Can anyone recommend a good outfit to hunt MuskOx in the spring? Thanks.

Too many elephants!!!

I am very pleased to be able to say that a story I wrote [My First African Trophy] has been published in the fall edition of "Game Trails" the hunting journal of the Dallas Safari Club on page 54. Hope you like it.

The old bull of the Gwai River Bridge

One afternoon we decided to head up to the Gwai river bridge crossing to see if there was any elephant activity. The river had a thin trickle of water flowing throught it with a few pools dotted around. It was an extremely hot day perfect for elephant hunting! On enquiry a local native informed us that we had come to the right place and a very old bull elephant with a younger askari bull was drinking daily at the river. He went on to tell us that they would drink every evening around 6pm and then feed along the banks till the early morning where the children from the local village would see them everyday as they went to school. What wonderful sights for a child to see everyday!

Since it was already around 2pm, we decided to hang around and check out the bull ourselves. In time other local villagers came by and they all had the same story to tell! This is always a good sign as local natives exaggerate and often tell you what you want to hear. So we sent the trackers to look for tracks! They came back to confirm that indeed there were tracks from the night before of two bulls drinking at the water, one track in particular was that of a very old bull, his feet were worn with deep cracks, the tracks were not large but sometimes elephants can have small feet and big teeth! Scott the PH was also excited at the sight of the very old tracks.

Around 5ish we loaded up and headed down to set up on a path which the bull would have to come down towards the river. 6 o clock came and went and the village cattle passed us by, the shadows lengthened and day slowly gave way to night, it was the day before full moon, so the moon came up early bathing the dry river bed and surrounding forest in its soft but bright glow. We waited sweating under the sausage tree, the mosquitoes came out to feast on us, but still no sign of the bulls! At 8:30 we decided to call it a night and quitely withdrew. We were back on the bridge at 530am, now using binoculars to look into every shadow along the river bank expecting to see the old bull in the early morning. Still no sign!

The trackers were despatched to see where they had drunk and we decided to drive the boundary road which ran parallel to the river but a mile away. The road was our area's boundary and we could not follow the bull across the other side. The boundary was all too close for our liking but rules are rules. Halfway down the boundary road we picked up his fresh tracks from the night before, he had come from the river and crossed the road heading into the other hunting block! Dissapointed we returned to collect the trackers and they confirmed what we already knew that the bull had drunk at the river but at another pool lower down!

The next morning we returned again, this time a light drizzle had washed out the tracks from the night before and all we could tell was that a herd of cows had passed by! Had we lost the chance of finding this old bull, an animal that had walked under the African sun for close to 50 years, perhaps carrying ivory well into the 60s and 70lb range. One tall villager described the tusks as being taller than him, surely a 100lb and every elephant hunter's dream! This was a quiet hidden away little place, a place where an old clever bull could easily hideout and spend his old age. We wondered whether his sixth sense which had kept him safe all these years told him that he was now being hunted and whether he had packed up and left with his younger friend! The daily tracks and foreign smell of our hunting vehicle would have been enough sign to warn him.

The sight of that old foot haunted us and we knew we had to go back at least one more time. Back again we made the early morning drive to the Gwai. We dropped off a couple of trackers to check the pools in the river and started our drive down the two mile boundary road. A mile later still no sign, perhaps he had moved off, at the end of the road, we stopped waiting for the trackers who were walking the length of that stretch of river to join us. Scott, decided to stretch his legs and walked down to the river, he was back in a few minutes to say that he had just found very fresh tracks of the two bulls and they were heading towards the river. The chase was on. We waited patiently for the trackers to return, they came at a run to say they had also seen the fresh tracks where the elephants had drunk, but were now heading into the one mile band along the river. We loaded up and followed them going as fast as we could in the dry river sand, up the river bank into the thorn bush, up and down the rough terrain following them, hoping that we would catch them before they got to the boundary road which was somewhere ahead of us! We lost the tracks twice in the grass and leaves, Luxon and Ben found them and off we went again. The elephants were heading as we suspected towards the boundary and to safety. There was no way we could catch them now, the boundary was only about 150 yards away still invisible in the thick bush! Suddenly the tracks turned sharply, as we followed I realized that we were heading back towards the river and deeper into our hunting area. Perhaps the elephants were planning to cross the river and head into the hills.

The big green accacia trees that only grow along the river came into view, we were not far now from the river and getting into the real thick stuff. Suddenly a loud cracking sound came from infront, no doubt elephant. A few more careful steps and they came into view. The old bull feeding on the left and the younger one on the right, we had him! Checking the wind we closed the distance one step at a time. Trying desperately to get a look at the ivory. This was it, the elephant I had come to shoot. At 25 yards a long yellow tusk swam into view, too thin and really not long enough. Scott cursed for both of us. The expression on his face did not need words. It was the old bull of the Gwai alright but not what we were looking for. We watched the old elephant as he fed quietly, got some good video footage of him and slowly withdrew.

We made our way back to the boundary road and sent for the vehicle. As a new day broke and the sun came up, we sat in the dust laughing at our misfortune. That old bull could have been that once in a life time elephant, he could have had pillars of white gold, but his small yellow ivory had kept him safe all these years. All hunting is about the experience and not just the final outcome. But more so when hunting for a trophy bull elephant I have come to realize it is the journey that is to be savoured as much as it is to get there.

Long may the old bull live in his little honey hole at the river Gwai and amuse the local villagers and children.

A poor man's buffalo. Not Really!!!

By day three we had scoured the whole area of Plum Tree which borders Botswana and Tscholotscho South in the hope some elephants would be crossing over to drink at the couple of water pans in our hunting area. We had earlier found the tracks of a small herd of cows with some young bulls and decided to check them out anyway. We caught up to them with a quick two hour walk. The general plan being to cut fresh tracks from the night before and then follow them. Seemingly, elephants seem to know where they want to go and walk steadily to the place they have in mind, once there, they seem to slow down start feeding and generally find a good napping spot.

We caught them under a tree in the hot afternoon sun, their grey bodies standing well over the thick thorn bush. Checking the wind we crept in closer and closer till we were finally within 25 yards. Our contact lasted about 10 minutes and we disengaged when a cow started checking us over quite closely. Withdrawing slowly we made our way back, marching along in the hot afternoon sun.

The previous day Scott the PH had told me that Wildebeest love the fresh grass that sprout up after an area has been burnt. He mentioned that there were not many in the area, since it was heavily poached being a communual area (i.e. open to native habitation), but there was a very old bull in a small herd which he had seen before.

We had decided to check the pans one last time before leaving Plum Tree, driving along in the still cool morning the trackers spotted the herd of Blue Wildebeest feeding way out in the open plain! I was not so keen to shoot one as I had decided to be very focused for a change and concentrate on the elephant. Excitement got the better of me and we made a short stalk to the edge of the tree line from where we could go no further. Scott by this time had decided the bull was a definite shooter and was the same old bull he had seen before. We made up a few more yards to a clump of grass belly crawling in the burnt ashes, I rested the 375 H&H on a small clump of burnt grass but the muzzle of the rifle was too low. All we had was our hats and binoculars, which offered a little bit more height, from not too steady a rest. The cloud of ash kicked up from the muzzle blast threw me off for a second as I thought I had hit the ground in front of me, Scott was on his feet shouting good shot, he is going down....

The bull had other plans he took off bucking and kicking and the herd joined him as they ran to reach the safety of the opposite side of the vast plains, now 400 yards away they entered the trees on the other side and that was it! All I could think of at the moment was that Blue Wildebeest are known for being amongst Africa's toughest animals and I was glad once again that I was using a 375H&H.

We started tracking as soon as the trackers caught up to us with the water bag (you do not go anywhere without that!), we found the tracks and blood straightaway (another good reason for using a bigger caliber), and followed. The minutes passed as we pushed our way through the thorns and high scrub bush. The blood trail was steady and we noticed that the bull was now on his own, the herd having left him to his fate. Half an hour later we spotted him going very slowly ahead of us through the trees. There was no time for a rest and a quick offhand shot at 100 yards anchored him. A final shot concluded things, Scott was elated and I was thankful that we had got him and had ourselves a really good old Blue Wildebeest. Around his neck we found claw marks that were healing, no doubt an encounter from a big cat! His big bosses and broken tip indicated that he was a really old bull. For those who are interested in such things, the width of the horns measured 29" across.

The skinning process revealed the story! The first shot taken at just over 250 yards had hit the slightly quartering towards us animal in the right front shoulder and had broken the whole leg bone but had not penetrated into the chest cavity, eventhough the angle was right. This was a bit surprising as I was using the 300 grain Swift A frame bullets which are superb bullets. The second shot in the right rump had also broken the thick leg bone but had not penetrated further. The bullets had retained quite a bit of weight but had not retained the typical Swift bullet mushroom profile. I strongly feel that if I was using any of the 30 or 7mm calibers with such a shot and bullet performance, we possibly may not have recovered this animal! I have hunted extensively with a 375H&H and have taken it each time to Africa and once again it has proven that it is undoubtedly the finest all round caliber one can use. It might be a little bit stiff off the bench but once you get hunting the recoil is forgotten and its a very easy gun to shoot well.

Going back to the heading of this blog, Wildebeest are known as a poor man's buffalo as they have the tenacity of a cape buffalo but are obviously much cheaper to hunt than a buff! Not so in my case :(. As it was the only trophy to be taken on my elephant hunt, it cost me way more than a buffalo hunt in the best hunting area in Africa! Such is life and the experiences of hunting.

Hi All,

I returned from Africa (Zimbabwe) on the 10th morning. Unfortunately my rifles have not made it back as yet so as you can imagine I am a bit concerned! If there is anyone out there with connections in Joburg and can help please let me know.

Unfortunately I did not get an elephant which was my main quest. I was hoping for a bull in the 60lb ivory per side range and would have settled for a 50lb+, but we never saw one over 40lbs so opted not to shoot. It was however a fantastic trip and hunting elephant is a wonderful experience. Being in the very close proximity of these huge beasts is simple awsome and I think unmatchable when compared to hunting most other game.

There were several highlights on the safari which I will blog about over the next few days, but will start with this first one!

The first evening in camp, as I sat with a nice cold beer, I enquired if there were any snakes about and was informed that a Cobra had been killed outside my chalet that morning. A few moments later as if on cue, we heard a rustling sound in the dead leaves and by the light of the flashlight saw a Mozambique spitting cobra. I don't like killing snakes for the sake of it and stopped the camp staff from throwing rocks at it and we watched it as it slithered down a hole amongst some leaves.

The following evening I again enquired about our friend the Cobra, and the local staff told me "Saar please do not think about him, for he will surely come to visit us again........"