RSA - Daddys turn - Wildebeest
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RSA - Daddys turn - Wildebeest
Wildebeest, from the Dutch words for wild cattle. Today I was going to hunt one a blue wildebeest that is really somewhat grey in color and no the black wildebeest.
The animal doesn’t appear to be very smart on the first glance, they graze and are parts of herds that intermingle with zebras, impalas and the plentiful blesbuck. A lot of eyeballs to sneak up to. I was surprised at their size, they looked a lot bigger that what I had imagined, like a small cow. Contrary to experience this was going to be my toughest hunt in Africa. And yes, them wildebeest, appearances are deceiving, they are plenty smart.
We came upon a herd of wildebeest and zebra, they paid the distant truck no attention till we alighted. Amazing sense of sight, we needed binocs to get a clear picture, it seemed they knew what we were up to and wanted no part of it, the wildebeest took off as a group, the zebras a bit later as the zebras kept turning around to look at us. Zebras make a weird sound, you would expect them to bray or neigh but they sound like a cross between a donkey and a dog
http://www.junglewalk.com/popup.asp?typ ... dioID=6064
We saw them move over two hills away and decided we would take a look around for something else so we went downhill in the truck, suddenly Clayton slammed on the brakes, in the distance, further down the valley were two massive warthogs high tailing it across us into a donga (what we call a nala), come on he whispered, I grabbed my rifle and followed quickly, Clayton asked me to load urgently, I chambered a round, Clayton asked me if it was on safe, once that was confirmed off we went. While there isn’t a lot of brush on this part of the ranch it is still not easy as there are small clumps of grass and a bunch of tennis ball and football sized rocks that make walking difficult and I sure was thankful for the fact that I had worn hunting boots as I would have busted an ankle, we came over the ridge to see the two warthogs, afterburners still on, accelerating out of danger. We knew there was no way we could catch up so we just stopped gasping, Clayton told me that to have tusks that large the animal must be 15 or more years older. Obviously to survive this pair were not exactly dummies and had learnt well from experience. In a way I was glad to see them live to another day. Oh well, I ejected the round and put it back in the magazine, pushed it further down in the magazine well and slowly slid the bolt over it while holding the trigger, in the Brno you can have an empty chamber and the bolt closed without the firing pin cocked by doing this.
Across the hill from us were some female impalas and then on the next another large group of zebras and wildebeest. We glassed them for a while, was no way we could get to them as they were below us and we had no cover. We went back up the ridge, in the distance, high above us we could see the wildebeest we had spooked, they were without the zebras and were peacefully grazing. Clayton told me to duck and we retreated bellow the ridgeline. Okay this is what we are going to do, do you see that donga, yes I whispered, okay we are going to go down, all the way down this hill and then we will climb up in that donga and see if we can get close. I gulped, the animals, were way, way above us, this was going to be tough going.
Anyways too late to back out now so off we went. All the guides and trackers would go into this exaggerated, bent forward , quick walk, close to each other and would not look up at the animals, avoiding eye contact with animals that were a mile or more away, I followed him, my back started screaming at me after 50 yards of this, Clayton would stop to glance back over his shoulder to see where the wildebeest were way, way above us and then would go down further into the valley towards the thick tangle of brush, trees and grass of the ravine. I was hoping we would change direction and start climbing up because what went down would then have to climb all the way up. Damn.
Finally we got to the ravine or donga, stopping to let some warthogs and impala leave while praying that they would climb the opposite hill and move away from the wildebeest, luck and the wind favored us, they wanted to put the brush and ravine between us and keep the advantage of the wind that was flowing from us to them. As it had rained the donga had a small stream in it. Now we started climbing, right down in the donga, and the brush, slick mud, low lying branches took their toll on me. Clayton seemed like he was strolling on 5th Avenue.
Up we walked, light was fading so Clayton never slowed down, I was having a very tough time keeping up, needed both hands to grass at tussocks of grass and steady myself on the banks so slung my gun with it lying horizontal so that the barrel did not catch the low lying branches, there was no one behind us or I would never have done that. All of a sudden a huge partridge took off from one of the trees, alarming both Clayton and myself, that’s a Shelly’s Partridge Clayton whispered to me, I swear to god it was the single biggest partridge I have ever seen and made more noise that a black hawk helicopter.
http://ibc.lynxeds.com/video/shelley039 ... nting-heat
After a couple of chuckles about being frightened by a bird and much to my dismay we were off climbing again, up and on we went, my lungs were on fire, thighs felt like a truck had gone over them, then to top things off, Clayton decides that he liked the opposite bank better, he jumps across and I look at it going, “oh crap’ if I fall into the firkin water my so called water proof boots will get soaked, I have another pair but they were only ankle level boots left that have a crape sole with no tread, why did I not pack another pair of boots? “ anyways here goes and I jumped and made it across, whew. Clayton did not even look back, he was steadily climbing so I had to do it again. After 15 odd meters the banks were too steep, time to double back and jump back over, yikes. Down we went, suddenly Clayton stops and points to the ground “spoor, big leopard” right between my clumsy footprints was a huge paw print of a leopard. Male said Clayton, I forgot to ask him how he knew, I quickly took out my BlackBerry, yes it did work there, and took a picture. My limbs ached, lungs were on fire and to top it off we were in a leopards lair, nice, I could see the headlines, version 1 – Hunter from California gets mauled by leopard, doc’s say he is lucky to be alive, unlikely to have any more children but otherwise will recover, version 2 – California hunter dies of exhaustion, and this was supposed to be my holiday.
Damn, where is Clayton, crap he is climbing up again, okay off we go, now my rifle was in my hands, I was debating chambering a round, decided against it, still kept it in my hands, 15 more paces and a big jack rabbit jumps up and scuttles off in the brush, damn jack ass, scared the crap out of me, no wonder they call them a jack rabbit. Clayton told me it was a hare, I did not care, if it showed up again it was going to get an enema with a 30-06. Nearly gave me a heart attack. We keep climbing, a large buddle of boulders mark the origin of the spring that fed the stream, we sneak up, there is nothing that we can see. I am just glad it is over and I am trying in my mind to figure out where the nearest road is so I can get back to the truck and lounge in its ample interior. Clayton has a single track mind though, in his own words “sometimes when I hunt I get very focused” , he gestures me to keep down and keep climbing, we keep going.
Suddenly he stops and gestures me to lie down, man mother earth feels good, rocks and all, Clayton motions to me, there is a wildebeest just over the ridge, Clayton can see his horns, all of this via sign language, he is looking our ways. Later on I realized that the so called dumb looking animals had bedded down on the lower end of a ridge away from us, the wind was blowing from them to us, they had a clear line of sight to everything below them and also they could smell it at night, the sentry that was watching the ridgeline seem to be on duty with the purpose of insuring that nothing attacked them from above and down wind. Suddenly they had IQ’s much higher than me though my wife tells me I do look better than them. We lay in the grass for a while, my lungs settled, I could now smell the fresh grass and the faint fragrance off all the flowers around us. Clayton gestured that we would wait and maybe the geniuses would move and maybe we idiots would get a shot, no such luck. The sun was setting, I had no intentions of walking at night in leopard country, I gestured to Clayton and pointed diagonally up the hill, maybe we could out flank them or maybe I would get lucky and we would stumble back on the road, either way it was win, win. Clayton gestured to chamber one, if this was going to happen it would happen fast.
We very carefully crawled or scurried like crabs sideways, I swear I could just see the top of its horns, there was no way its eyes could see over the crest of the hill but suddenly it quickly moved up and it was there looking right at us. Clayton gestured at a ant hill, I flopped down behind that, prone, never had time to adjust my scope, it was still at 4 X, the sun would set in a few more minutes, I waited for Clayton who was on his knees, binocs on his eyes, looking to see if this one was what we wanted, he crouched down and whispered, this is not big enough, let’s see if the others join it, there is on whose horns I can see, seems to be a good one. I nodded, he has amazing ability to see game that I have to struggle to find and he can size them up, to me they all look like trophies, so I wait. Look through the scope at the one that is looking at us, thankful I had spent the money on the Leopold, in the low light it stood out bright and crisp. I wasn’t focused on anything else, the world was still. Would the animals lose their patience and come up to see what their brethren was looking at.
Suddenly they were all there, 4 or 5 of them, Clayton tells me, it is the third one, he is big, when you have a clear shot take him. They were all milling around but I thought I was onto the right one, I swung the gun as I found him in my scope, they were 100 odd yards away and I could see its complete body in my scope, wait, wait, Clayton whispers, let it be broadside and wait that there is nothing behind it, let the one in the front move. Everything was crystal clear, it was going to happen, I was sure in my mind. Always have this 6 th sense before I kill an animal, not sure why, suddenly everything parted, I had a clear picture, I aimed and slowly removed the safety, squeeze and use the Zen sense of where you want your bullet to go. The rifle jolts back in recoil, the wildebeest falls down, it is down. Despite taking my time I forgot that the vitals of African game are different than American game and my shot which would have pierced heart and lung on American game had still done its job by severing the spine. The 165 grain TSX had done its job, I chambered another round, we walked up on it, the rest had run off and were looking at us from around 250 yards away, they were milling around. An insurance round was then used to dispatch the game and there was my wildebeest. I knelt down next to it, relived that the hunting gods had allowed me to harvest such a magnificent animal, sorry that I had ended its wanderings, wondered if it had ever seen the leopard, wondering what gave me the right to end its life.
After congratulations we saw the truck slowly transversing the hillside, my kids jumped out all excited and full of admiration, I hugged them. We hurried to take pictures in the fading light, not sure how the two trackers, Clayton and me in a very secondary capacity loaded it into the back of the truck. I got Zulu handshakes from the Zulu trackers, one of them kept putting his fingers up on the side of his heads like horns, I could make out he meant it was a big one.
A couple of nights later Clayton cooked some of its fillets, they were delicious, like succulent angus steak, very flavorful. He also told me it was going to make the SCI and Rowland and Ward very easily, we both raised out bottles of beer in a silent toast to a magnificent animal that is a lot smarter than what it appears.
The animal doesn’t appear to be very smart on the first glance, they graze and are parts of herds that intermingle with zebras, impalas and the plentiful blesbuck. A lot of eyeballs to sneak up to. I was surprised at their size, they looked a lot bigger that what I had imagined, like a small cow. Contrary to experience this was going to be my toughest hunt in Africa. And yes, them wildebeest, appearances are deceiving, they are plenty smart.
We came upon a herd of wildebeest and zebra, they paid the distant truck no attention till we alighted. Amazing sense of sight, we needed binocs to get a clear picture, it seemed they knew what we were up to and wanted no part of it, the wildebeest took off as a group, the zebras a bit later as the zebras kept turning around to look at us. Zebras make a weird sound, you would expect them to bray or neigh but they sound like a cross between a donkey and a dog
http://www.junglewalk.com/popup.asp?typ ... dioID=6064
We saw them move over two hills away and decided we would take a look around for something else so we went downhill in the truck, suddenly Clayton slammed on the brakes, in the distance, further down the valley were two massive warthogs high tailing it across us into a donga (what we call a nala), come on he whispered, I grabbed my rifle and followed quickly, Clayton asked me to load urgently, I chambered a round, Clayton asked me if it was on safe, once that was confirmed off we went. While there isn’t a lot of brush on this part of the ranch it is still not easy as there are small clumps of grass and a bunch of tennis ball and football sized rocks that make walking difficult and I sure was thankful for the fact that I had worn hunting boots as I would have busted an ankle, we came over the ridge to see the two warthogs, afterburners still on, accelerating out of danger. We knew there was no way we could catch up so we just stopped gasping, Clayton told me that to have tusks that large the animal must be 15 or more years older. Obviously to survive this pair were not exactly dummies and had learnt well from experience. In a way I was glad to see them live to another day. Oh well, I ejected the round and put it back in the magazine, pushed it further down in the magazine well and slowly slid the bolt over it while holding the trigger, in the Brno you can have an empty chamber and the bolt closed without the firing pin cocked by doing this.
Across the hill from us were some female impalas and then on the next another large group of zebras and wildebeest. We glassed them for a while, was no way we could get to them as they were below us and we had no cover. We went back up the ridge, in the distance, high above us we could see the wildebeest we had spooked, they were without the zebras and were peacefully grazing. Clayton told me to duck and we retreated bellow the ridgeline. Okay this is what we are going to do, do you see that donga, yes I whispered, okay we are going to go down, all the way down this hill and then we will climb up in that donga and see if we can get close. I gulped, the animals, were way, way above us, this was going to be tough going.
Anyways too late to back out now so off we went. All the guides and trackers would go into this exaggerated, bent forward , quick walk, close to each other and would not look up at the animals, avoiding eye contact with animals that were a mile or more away, I followed him, my back started screaming at me after 50 yards of this, Clayton would stop to glance back over his shoulder to see where the wildebeest were way, way above us and then would go down further into the valley towards the thick tangle of brush, trees and grass of the ravine. I was hoping we would change direction and start climbing up because what went down would then have to climb all the way up. Damn.
Finally we got to the ravine or donga, stopping to let some warthogs and impala leave while praying that they would climb the opposite hill and move away from the wildebeest, luck and the wind favored us, they wanted to put the brush and ravine between us and keep the advantage of the wind that was flowing from us to them. As it had rained the donga had a small stream in it. Now we started climbing, right down in the donga, and the brush, slick mud, low lying branches took their toll on me. Clayton seemed like he was strolling on 5th Avenue.
Up we walked, light was fading so Clayton never slowed down, I was having a very tough time keeping up, needed both hands to grass at tussocks of grass and steady myself on the banks so slung my gun with it lying horizontal so that the barrel did not catch the low lying branches, there was no one behind us or I would never have done that. All of a sudden a huge partridge took off from one of the trees, alarming both Clayton and myself, that’s a Shelly’s Partridge Clayton whispered to me, I swear to god it was the single biggest partridge I have ever seen and made more noise that a black hawk helicopter.
http://ibc.lynxeds.com/video/shelley039 ... nting-heat
After a couple of chuckles about being frightened by a bird and much to my dismay we were off climbing again, up and on we went, my lungs were on fire, thighs felt like a truck had gone over them, then to top things off, Clayton decides that he liked the opposite bank better, he jumps across and I look at it going, “oh crap’ if I fall into the firkin water my so called water proof boots will get soaked, I have another pair but they were only ankle level boots left that have a crape sole with no tread, why did I not pack another pair of boots? “ anyways here goes and I jumped and made it across, whew. Clayton did not even look back, he was steadily climbing so I had to do it again. After 15 odd meters the banks were too steep, time to double back and jump back over, yikes. Down we went, suddenly Clayton stops and points to the ground “spoor, big leopard” right between my clumsy footprints was a huge paw print of a leopard. Male said Clayton, I forgot to ask him how he knew, I quickly took out my BlackBerry, yes it did work there, and took a picture. My limbs ached, lungs were on fire and to top it off we were in a leopards lair, nice, I could see the headlines, version 1 – Hunter from California gets mauled by leopard, doc’s say he is lucky to be alive, unlikely to have any more children but otherwise will recover, version 2 – California hunter dies of exhaustion, and this was supposed to be my holiday.
Damn, where is Clayton, crap he is climbing up again, okay off we go, now my rifle was in my hands, I was debating chambering a round, decided against it, still kept it in my hands, 15 more paces and a big jack rabbit jumps up and scuttles off in the brush, damn jack ass, scared the crap out of me, no wonder they call them a jack rabbit. Clayton told me it was a hare, I did not care, if it showed up again it was going to get an enema with a 30-06. Nearly gave me a heart attack. We keep climbing, a large buddle of boulders mark the origin of the spring that fed the stream, we sneak up, there is nothing that we can see. I am just glad it is over and I am trying in my mind to figure out where the nearest road is so I can get back to the truck and lounge in its ample interior. Clayton has a single track mind though, in his own words “sometimes when I hunt I get very focused” , he gestures me to keep down and keep climbing, we keep going.
Suddenly he stops and gestures me to lie down, man mother earth feels good, rocks and all, Clayton motions to me, there is a wildebeest just over the ridge, Clayton can see his horns, all of this via sign language, he is looking our ways. Later on I realized that the so called dumb looking animals had bedded down on the lower end of a ridge away from us, the wind was blowing from them to us, they had a clear line of sight to everything below them and also they could smell it at night, the sentry that was watching the ridgeline seem to be on duty with the purpose of insuring that nothing attacked them from above and down wind. Suddenly they had IQ’s much higher than me though my wife tells me I do look better than them. We lay in the grass for a while, my lungs settled, I could now smell the fresh grass and the faint fragrance off all the flowers around us. Clayton gestured that we would wait and maybe the geniuses would move and maybe we idiots would get a shot, no such luck. The sun was setting, I had no intentions of walking at night in leopard country, I gestured to Clayton and pointed diagonally up the hill, maybe we could out flank them or maybe I would get lucky and we would stumble back on the road, either way it was win, win. Clayton gestured to chamber one, if this was going to happen it would happen fast.
We very carefully crawled or scurried like crabs sideways, I swear I could just see the top of its horns, there was no way its eyes could see over the crest of the hill but suddenly it quickly moved up and it was there looking right at us. Clayton gestured at a ant hill, I flopped down behind that, prone, never had time to adjust my scope, it was still at 4 X, the sun would set in a few more minutes, I waited for Clayton who was on his knees, binocs on his eyes, looking to see if this one was what we wanted, he crouched down and whispered, this is not big enough, let’s see if the others join it, there is on whose horns I can see, seems to be a good one. I nodded, he has amazing ability to see game that I have to struggle to find and he can size them up, to me they all look like trophies, so I wait. Look through the scope at the one that is looking at us, thankful I had spent the money on the Leopold, in the low light it stood out bright and crisp. I wasn’t focused on anything else, the world was still. Would the animals lose their patience and come up to see what their brethren was looking at.
Suddenly they were all there, 4 or 5 of them, Clayton tells me, it is the third one, he is big, when you have a clear shot take him. They were all milling around but I thought I was onto the right one, I swung the gun as I found him in my scope, they were 100 odd yards away and I could see its complete body in my scope, wait, wait, Clayton whispers, let it be broadside and wait that there is nothing behind it, let the one in the front move. Everything was crystal clear, it was going to happen, I was sure in my mind. Always have this 6 th sense before I kill an animal, not sure why, suddenly everything parted, I had a clear picture, I aimed and slowly removed the safety, squeeze and use the Zen sense of where you want your bullet to go. The rifle jolts back in recoil, the wildebeest falls down, it is down. Despite taking my time I forgot that the vitals of African game are different than American game and my shot which would have pierced heart and lung on American game had still done its job by severing the spine. The 165 grain TSX had done its job, I chambered another round, we walked up on it, the rest had run off and were looking at us from around 250 yards away, they were milling around. An insurance round was then used to dispatch the game and there was my wildebeest. I knelt down next to it, relived that the hunting gods had allowed me to harvest such a magnificent animal, sorry that I had ended its wanderings, wondered if it had ever seen the leopard, wondering what gave me the right to end its life.
After congratulations we saw the truck slowly transversing the hillside, my kids jumped out all excited and full of admiration, I hugged them. We hurried to take pictures in the fading light, not sure how the two trackers, Clayton and me in a very secondary capacity loaded it into the back of the truck. I got Zulu handshakes from the Zulu trackers, one of them kept putting his fingers up on the side of his heads like horns, I could make out he meant it was a big one.
A couple of nights later Clayton cooked some of its fillets, they were delicious, like succulent angus steak, very flavorful. He also told me it was going to make the SCI and Rowland and Ward very easily, we both raised out bottles of beer in a silent toast to a magnificent animal that is a lot smarter than what it appears.
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Re: RSA - Daddys turn - Wildebeest
Kragiesardar, that was a good read! Thanks for sharing your experiences and pics!
Regards,
Yaj.
Regards,
Yaj.
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Re: RSA - Daddys turn - Wildebeest
That , sir, was an excellent read. I felt that I was right there with you on the stalk and the kill.
Polish up the typewriter, you should be selling this story to a magazine.
Your sentiments at the end of the hunt are very well articulated and appreciated.
Thanks again.
Polish up the typewriter, you should be selling this story to a magazine.
Your sentiments at the end of the hunt are very well articulated and appreciated.
Thanks again.
“Never give in, never give in, never; never; never; never – in nothing, great or small, large or petty – never give in except to convictions of honor and good sense” — Winston Churchill, Oct 29, 1941
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Re: RSA - Daddys turn - Wildebeest
The best read series ever, Sir u r a great hunter hats off to you.................
Mr S.M.Nawab
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I live to Shoot.
I work to live,
I live to Shoot.
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Re: RSA - Daddys turn - Wildebeest
Lovely man, i get totally engrossed in your write ups, have you ever though of taking up writting as profession . Lovely
The pics was welcome back to the world pic .
The pics was welcome back to the world pic .
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Re: RSA - Daddys turn - Wildebeest
Thanks for sharing,really nice pictures
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"The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him."
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Re: RSA - Daddys turn - Wildebeest
Thanks for sharing such lovely experiences and educating us about africa and the game with your lovely write up...
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Re: RSA - Daddys turn - Wildebeest
good one, as usual.
man, you are giving me sleepless nights already.
man, you are giving me sleepless nights already.
You want more gun control? Use both hands!
God made man and God made woman, but Samuel Colt made them equal.
One does not hunt in order to kill; on the contrary, one kills in order to have hunted. by Jose Gasset.
God made man and God made woman, but Samuel Colt made them equal.
One does not hunt in order to kill; on the contrary, one kills in order to have hunted. by Jose Gasset.
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Re: RSA - Daddys turn - Wildebeest
Another fantastic trophy .
Wilderbeests are also called the Jokers of the savana. Cause quite a stampede when they take of in big herds. One moment you see them running one way and suddenly they turn and go the other way.
Wilderbeests are also called the Jokers of the savana. Cause quite a stampede when they take of in big herds. One moment you see them running one way and suddenly they turn and go the other way.