By Zeke
Vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows. The black silhouettes of the acacia trees and giraffes. Perfect Lion King sunsets. One of the best experiences of my life was on my first trip to South Africa.
It all started a few years ago, when my dad suddenly became obsessed with cape buffalo. A few months of research, a connection with Dave Freeburn of Dave Freeburn Safaris and all of a sudden, there was a trip to Africa on the calendar for June of 2025. It didn’t even seem real to me when he told me. And then – he invited me! As long as I took care of half of the trophy fee of any animal(s) I hunted, he would take care of the rest. I decided to try for a gemsbok, with red hartebeest as first alternate. Uncle Mike and his son (Gabe) and step-son (Ethan) would also be coming.
As we settled into “camp” (using the term loosely; our accommodations were amazing), we spent some time to ensure we all passed the rifles test. Our hired rifle for plains game was a nice Berretta BRX1 straight-pull in .308 Win., shooting Sako 180gr Arrow tip II bullets. It was set up with a Sako suppressor and a Vortex 3×15 scope. Other than the straight-pull action, the rifle was very similar to what we were all used to with our rifles back home. After the Berretta test, Dad took on the test for the 500 Nitro. Dave was extremely generous and allowed Dad to hire his custom Verney Carron 500 Nitro for the buffalo hunt which was paired with Norma 570 grain solids and softs. Dad has always loved side by side shotguns for bird hunting back home and he fell in love with the gun instantly.
We woke up at 6:30 the next morning to eggs and bacon and packed our gear into the land cruiser. I could feel the cold crisp of the morning air in my face as we rode around checking the trail cameras and the water pans for signs of buffalo. We found some relatively fresh sign early on, but didn’t locate any tracks that made sense to follow just yet. There were some great animals on the trail cameras, though, and everyone was starting to get excited about what the coming days would bring.
As we were checking the last of the cameras in the afternoon, we saw some zebra pop out of the bush. Dave took Gabe to stalk them, but the stallion only provided a frontal shot at a bit farther than Gabe was comfortable taking. A bit later, we spotted a blesbok, which Ethan elected to try for. Ethan executed a great shot at the end of a nice stalk and got us on the board to wrap up our first day.
The next morning, as we were looking for fresh buffalo tracks and replacing trail cameras we came across a herd of red hartebeest. We tried three or four times, but there were a lot of animals in the herd and I just couldn’t get settled for a shot. This was my first try and turned out to be a good warmup on how to follow Dave on a stalk, but I was still a bit disappointed.
On the way to the next water pan – I couldn’t believe my luck to see gemsbok!!! I was determined to make up for not having success on the hartebeest, and off we went for a stalk. I could hear my heartbeat pounding as I anticipated making the shot. Dave set me up on the sticks and I awaited his instructions. While I was settling in on the herd, Dave spotted one off to the side so I shifted the gun and fired. I reloaded the rifle as I saw the herd running away. Dave caught a glimpse of it and saw it was not a fatal hit. After some failed attempts at tracking the wounded gemsbok we went to a nearby water hole hoping it would come in to drink, but we only saw a few warthogs.
With a few hours of daylight left, we tried to locate some buffalo that were spotted a few kilometers away. While searching, we were treated to our first sighting of giraffes of the trip. It felt so cool to see creatures with legs taller than me in the wild. And then on our way back to camp, we saw our first buffalo. It was a herd of young bulls, so we just watched in amazement at the sheer size of them.
By the time we got back to camp, I was feeling pretty low, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep hunting. This was such a horrible way to start the trip. But Dad talked to me, and so did Dave, and after that we had some of Ethan’s blesbok for dinner. I went to bed after our wonderful dinner to try to sleep it off and I vowed to let the next day start fresh.
For the next day, Uncle Mike declared that this was the day we needed to get Dad his buffalo and that “he had a plan”. “His” plan was for us to sit at the water hole that the buffalo were hitting in the day time (the “Secret Pan”) and just wait for one. We’d actually been talking about this plan the whole prior day, though, so there really wasn’t any debate. With the plan sorted, off we went to the Secret Pan. We set up with a breeze in our faces and waited. Not very long into our sit, however, both the wind shifted and the silence was broken (Uncle Mike sneezed). Even the birds went quiet… everyone seemed at once to silently acknowledge that we were busted.
As we looked around the waterhole, we saw some fresh leopard tracks. By the way of the tracks, Dave suspected that the leopard was on the way into water and either heard or smelled us as we were sitting there. Thinking about that was both scary and exciting, as we’d seen a nice tom on one of the trail cameras the first day, and it reminded me of hunting among cougars back home.
Dave then suggested we take a walk into the block, since it was still pretty early in the morning. We were quite the troop – Dave and the five of us. Both luckily and unluckily, the grass was very thick this year. The Limpopo had just come off record rainfall and everything was still very thick. So, while we indeed made some noise, visually, we were pretty well masked.
As we were starting our loop back, Dave suddenly dropped, and we did the same. Looking up, there they were, a bachelor herd of buffalo! I was suddenly a bit nervous being so close to such massive animals. The nearest bull was young and only half-tried to figure out what we were. As he sleepily moved to the back of the herd, Dave looked over the bulls. He suddenly became quite animated; he’d found one with a hard boss!! It was impossible to tell how wide he was in the thick grass, but with the binoculars at 30m, he was able to make out the bosses. Dad’s request for the hunt was a hard-bossed bull to be taken with the double rifle, and this looked like the opportunity he wanted.
Dave directed Dad to crawl forward into position for a shot. They stood up as the buffalo looked away and Dad took his time to get sorted. BOOM!!! The buffalo wheeled and BOOM! Dad reloaded as the bulls trotted by at 20m… BOOM! BOOM! Dad and Dave each put in an extra shot to ensure they turned the other way. When the grass settled, we collected ourselves from the excitement. And then – we heard it – the death bellow. Dave and Dad smiled and started tracking.
After what seemed like a forever but wasn’t very long at all, we spotted Dave walking towards us. We collected our things and followed Dave to Dad and the buffalo, half in disbelief of what just happened in front of us.
It was huge! After we got him into position Dave took some fantastic pictures, ensuring to get all of the right angles. When we got to the skinning shed, Dave measured the buffalo’s outside spread and he was roughly 45 ½ inches wide. Dad’s jaw about hit the ground when he heard the number – it was quite a bull.
With the buffalo in the salt and four more days to target plains game, we transitioned to a newly-renovated camp that Dave was excited about.
In no time at all upon our arrival, we spotted a herd of zebra. Dave took Gabe on a stalk and not long after we lost sight of them – POP!! A few zebra ran off but they kept looking back… After a few minutes, we heard a whistle signaling success. When we finally got the zebra out of the bush, two black rhinos came out of the bush in front of us at about 150m. It was so cool to see them on the ground and without a fence!!
After a short break at camp, we headed out to hunt some more. It wasn’t long before we located a group of impala rams. Dad told me to take one to help me recover from the rough day I had on Day 2, so we tried a stalk on the impala. Admittedly, I was nervous… I got set up and POP! I reloaded the rifle and got ready to follow-up, but there was no sign of a hit. Confused, I looked around desperately in search of an answer. In discussing it with Dad, we figured out that I had rested the barrel on the sticks, likely making my shot bounce the rifle high.
Frustrated, I resolved that I would get things sorted on the next opportunity. We found another herd of impala quickly and were able to try again, while my resolve was fresh. We stalked in as quiet as possible and I set up on the sticks. This time, I made sure the rifle was set correctly and that I was stable. I found the shoulder. I squeezed the trigger. POP!! WHOP!! I heard the bullet hit the ram. It ran off, but it was clear he was injured.
Doubt crept in instantly, though, and I started to think the worst had happened again… but as it ran behind a bush and didn’t come out, I started to allow myself to hope. As we approached, there he was, on the ground taking his final breath. He expired before I could finish him. I knelt over him and said a short prayer in appreciation. He was an average-sized impala, but he was old, and I am so very proud of him. I’ll be forever grateful to him for his role in helping me to overcome my initial adversity.
After lunch we headed back out, and Dad confirmed to me that we were still looking for a redemption gemsbok, in addition to a blue wildebeest for each Uncle Mike and Dad. Not far from camp, something was spotted off in the distance. After some time I realized it was a lone gemsbok. I couldn’t believe it!! So, off we went to try a stalk on it. We moved into the bush and would peek out from the edges to keep an eye on it. As we were stalking, I felt ready and nervous at the same time. When we got close enough, we set up on the sticks, just barely poking out of the edge of the brush. The old gemsbok caught sight of us, but wasn’t very alarmed. After the past couple of days of ups and downs, I tried really hard to take my time to settle in. I found the shoulder. I squeezed the trigger. POP! WHOP!!! The shot felt really good! It sounded really good! The gemsbok wheeled and ran into the bush. I was hoping it was a good hit… praying it was a good hit, but this time, the doubt didn’t creep in… I was confident. We walked to the point where it ran into the bush and then Dave, Dad, and the game scout (Bussman) went in to track it, due to the density of the bush.
Not even a minute after they disappeared into the bush, we heard Dave calling us over. And as I stepped around a bush, I saw it there. My gemsbok. I was overwhelmed with joy that I had done it – I had successfully taken a gemsbok. I knelt down next to it and said a prayer. It is hard to put into words how happy I was to be able to accomplish my goal, especially considering what had happened earlier that trip. It was such a feeling of both joy and relief.
With a third animal on the day, we thanked Bussman and put the rifles away. For the rest of the afternoon, we were treated to viewing multiple groups of elephants and giraffes, as well as a few white rhino (including a calf estimated to be 10-14 days old). Such an amazing day.
Uncle Mike was up next and all eyes were looking for wildebeest now. Fairly early in the morning, we saw a nice bull and off Dave and Uncle Mike went. A few moments after they rounded a tree, POP! WHOP!! Success! He was a nice, old bull.
After Uncle Mike’s wildebeest, only Dad was still hunting. Over the course of the trip, Dave’s passion for finding exceptional impala and warthogs rubbed off on Dad, and we finished up the hunt looking for both while in search of a wildebeest to beat Uncle Mike’s. Dad connected on a great impala later that day, but was unlucky on warthog. That night, over dinner, we heard a leopard territorial call coming from the water hole behind camp which was really cool.
For the final day, Dad pulled me aside and told me we should spend some time looking for my wounded gemsbok, to make sure we gave it a final effort to find it. We looked and looked, but ultimately, we weren’t able to turn it up. We returned to camp with a few hours of daylight left, and Dave and Dad went back out on a last hunt, on which Dad was able to connect on a dandy blue wildebeest. A great end to a great hunt.
The next day, we left for home. I was sad to leave, but since Dad was already talking about a return trip, I let myself hope I’d be back and was able to leave with a smile, excited to return someday.
