We had booked another full bag safari for 2021 with Simon and Kate Rodger’s Safaris de Moçambique. This concession borders Lake Cahora Bassa in Mozambique. My 27-year-old daughter would be the shooter, and her PH would be Brian Ellement, son of the well-known elephant hunter Mark Ellement from Zimbabwe. My son and I had hunted elephant with Mark about 20 years previously on a very successful hunt – we took a 58 lb tusker. We had met Brian and his sister during that hunt when they were about 10 years old, and now Brian was pushing 30! Mark has since passed on and is deeply missed.
We started off driving relentlessly searching for fresh buff tracks. After countless miles of driving and following buffs on foot, we were looking for a big, hard-bossed bull. Day after day we followed tracks until we made contact with herds of Dagga Boy groups. We would carefully maneuver, keeping the wind in our faces, crawling, sneaking, and trying to stay out of sight. KK had borrowed a .375 H&H and I had a .416 Rigby for backup.
Our Cruiser sunk to the axle trying to cross a sand river
Darby Wright with .375 H&H that Kayleigh Wright used on safari, .416 Remington used by Darby Wright for backup & .500 Jeffries used by PH Brian Ellement
Finally, after looking over quite a few buffs, Brian whispered that there was a very nice bull in a group. We kept shifting constantly, trying to get into position for a clear shot. The buffs were on the move, feeding into the wind with heavy brush all around them. I stayed back a few yards as KK and Brian moved into position. I saw the sticks come up and it seemed like forever before the shot went off. I was trying to video with my phone camera, and at the shot I jerked the phone, not getting any of the action on video. KK said the shot felt good and that she had been aiming low on the shoulder. Soon we heard the death bellow coming from about 150 yards away. The trackers started smiling and laughing and everyone was elated! We found this magnificent bull and he was a beauty! That night there would be a ‘Dindine’ (local term for a party) which included a full-blown celebration with sundowners, hors d’oeuvres and buff-tail soup.
We had gotten word that an agitated bull hippo had been harrassing fisherman, and one man had been severely injured while tending his nets. We loaded our gear into the Land Cruiser and headed out early the next day across the million-acre concession to investigate the situation. PHs are often responsible for eliminating problem animals, and upon our arrival several local fisherman ran up to our truck and in their native tongue told our trackers what had happened. The injured fisherman had been taken to a clinic but they weren’t sure he was going to make it. Those tusks are capable of causing horrendous injuries. We were never able to locate this aggressive hippo, so we decided to hunt the huge vegetation-choked lagoon for a trophy hippo.
Kayleigh Wright with leopard
Enjoying a nice bush lunch while out hunting
Sunset at Main Camp
After much searching we were able to find two hippo bulls completely out of the water sunning on a small island. However, they saw us and entered the water, heads bobbing up and down. We were all sitting on the ground glassing, and Brian set up the short sticks and told KK which one to shoot when comfortable. The .375 barked. “Great shot!” said Brian. He had seen the 110 yard shot connect through his binos. A search party was sent out in a dugout canoe to tow in the hippo once it floated, and when near the shore, we used the Land Cruiser to pull the 6,000 lb beast from the water. All the meat was given to the fishing village, and the excited villagers were thankful for fresh protein.
KK had leopard on license, so we set out to shoot several impala rams for bait. At 350 dollars each, that’s some expensive cat food! We hung five baits in likely-looking areas and checked them every day. One bait site was within a mile of camp, and bait number three was heavily fed on with big paw prints around it. We needed a fresh impala bait. A blind was built, and KK and Brian entered it about 4:00 p.m. while I waited in camp.
At 8:30 the driver came to tell me he was sure they had got the leopard, so we headed straight to the blind. Brian and the trackers searched with flashlights. KK and I waied in the blind. Suddenly, “KK come see your leopard,” shouted Brian. WOW! Now everyone was fired up. This had been a fantastic leopard hunt! We had another ‘Dindine’, a cat celebration like none other.
Meantime, a buff ribcage, hide and hooves, a bunch of mummified impala carcasses from leftover recycled leopard baits, and a horrendously rank hippo leg left over from a previous lion safari, were all transformed into croc baits. It took a few days of wiring and chaining these baits in prime spots. The hippo leg was taken to a peninsula, and when we snuck in the following day to check for crocs, some dinosaur had broken the thick wiring and the chain which held the hippo leg! It was a windy day, so we decided to use our boat to search for a big croc.
We glassed a lot of shorelines and coves. At one point Brian got out of the boat and walked across a peninsula to take a look at the other side. He came running back to the boat, waving for us to grab the gun and sticks and make it quick! KK and Brian led, then they began belly-crawling for a closer shot. I could see the monster croc lying half in and half out of the water, quartering to the right. He was enormous with a huge head and wide body. Brian had KK on the short sticks and it didn’t take long for the .375 to go off. BOOM! The bullet entered forwards into the back of the skull, and after several insurance shots taken for good measure, it was over.
This was a huge old croc. The dindine celebration would last well into the night. Drinks and cold beers would be flowing! This Second Generation hunt was an especially memorable safari – hunting with Mark Ellement’s son Brian, and Kayleigh.
Those memories will last forever.
PH Brian Ellement with big vundu, CPR (Catch Photograph Release)
Darby Wright lives in New Braunfels, Texas. After 36 years of owning and running a Fire and Water Damage Restoration Company, he now enjoys his time off hunting and fishing in Costa Rica, Mexico, Australia, Argentina, Canada, Alaska, Zambia, Namibia, South Africa, Zimbabwe and Mozambique. He and his family are always ready for the next adventure.
The mountain zebra is white with black stripes and the legs are ring-striped to the hooves. The underparts are white and there is a distinctive “grid-iron” pattern of transverse black stripes on the rump above the tail. The muzzle tip is black blending into orange-brown. An erect mane runs from the top of the head to the withers and there is a dewlap on the throat. The Cape mountain zebra (E. z. zebra) is not a huntable species at this stage. The plains zebra, where their ranges overlap, has light brown shadow stripes on the white, stripes extending onto belly and comparatively shorter ears.
Distribution
Hartmann’s occurs naturally only along the escarpment of the Namib and adjacent flatland, but it has been introduced into South Africa outside this range. Namibia and South Africa are the countries offering this zebra as a trophy. Hartmann’s once had a more or less continuous distribution in the rugged, broken hill country from south-western Angola, right down western Namibia and into the north-west of South Africa’s Northern Cape province. It has expanded naturally again into the Richtersveld National Park and has been reintroduced into the Goegap Nature Reserve and Augrabies Falls National Park. The exact former range of the Cape Mountain Zebra is unclear, but it probably occurred along much of the South African Cape Folded Belt ranges and many of the adjacent inland mountains, within today’s Western and Eastern Cape provinces. Brought to the verge of extinction, it now occurs in several national parks and provincial nature reserves as well as several privately owned game reserves.
Hartmann’s Mountain Zebra
Conservation standing
Hartmann’s has lost both range and numbers in Namibia, having dropped from more than 16 000 in 1972 to an estimated 7 000 today. Approximately 250 Hartmann’s have been introduced in South Africa. Sometimes considered to be a problem in Namibia where they at times damage fences.
Habitats
Generally associated with rugged mountain terrain they frequently move onto plateaux and adjacent flatlands to feed.
Although not currently huntable the Cape mountain zebra may well become so in the near future
Behaviour
Hartmann’s Mountain Zebra
Small harem groups of mares, usually 3 to 5, and their young, are controlled by a stallion. Larger groupings of 40 and more individuals may be observed at feeding grounds or watering points, but each group retains its integrity. Stallions that do not hold harem herds form into bachelor groups, which may include young mares and weaned foals. Harem holding stallions are not territorial, but defend the mares against the attentions of other stallions, although submissive stallions are tolerated.
I am Lestie Cloete-Trollip, Co-Owner of Limpopo Taxidermy in Phalaborwa. My interest in Taxidermy art started in high school already. I did two beginner courses at the Transvaal Museum in Pretoria in a school holiday in my Grade 10 year. After Matric I got a job at Zululand Taxidermy (I feel honoured to have had Coenie Swanepoel as mentor and teacher in this trade) as an apprentice where I was taught the technical side of taxidermy and other tricks of the trade.
How many years have you been in the business?
In October 2004, my father Herman Cloete and I opened our taxidermy in Phalaborwa. We are still a small taxidermy operation so that we can be hands on with the quality of each trophy that our clients receive.
What are your favourite mounts & why?
I really enjoy doing the smaller full mounts like small cats and small antelope. So far my favourite is the Genet! I also enjoyed the times when I had the opportunity to do leopard, cheetah and lion and scarcer animals like Oribi and Pangolin. I like doing shoulder mounts and even a common antelope like Impala stays interesting to do when realising each individual is unique in colour, markings in the face, interesting horn shapes etc.
Current processes offered
Pick up & collect trophies: No. Trophies need to be delivered
A couple of months ago I was down in Graaff Reinet for a Greywing Partridge shoot with my good friend Tim Van Heerden from Karoo Wingshooting (which is a hunt anyone interested in wingshooting must go and do, but that is a story for another time) and we got to talking about Vaal Rhebuck while we were prowling the mountains in pursuit of those little grey missiles that would flush in front of the pointers noses. I had never hunted, let alone seen a Vaalie (the nickname that we give them) and was really keen on the possibility of hunting one of these small king’s of the mountains.
I got back to my home base in Limpopo, after our very successful wingshoot, and immediately started planning the next trip down for the Vaalie. I had recently purchased a custom built .308 on a Warrior chassis that I had done some load development for and was keen on stretching its legs on a real hunt and not just the range. A friend of mine offered to fly us down at the cost of the fuel and I immediately jumped at the opportunity, as it would make the trip a lot more comfortable. We set the dates and all that was left was to sit back and wait for the days to pass.
It was finally the week of the trip and we were due to fly early Thursday morning to be in Graaff Reinet by mid day to be able to still get in an afternoon hunt, as we knew we would need all the time we could get to have the best chance at success in the mountains. Wednesday afternoon came and the weather forecast for Thursday was not looking promising and I had to make the call to cancel the flight and opted to rather leave at 3am by car to be in Graaff Reinet at the scheduled time. I was very glad I did as the weather was not favorable anywhere along the 10 hour drive and it would have delayed us by at least a day if I had not left by car that morning. Not a great way to start the safari, but I was not discouraged.
I arrived at our accommodation, close to where the Eastern, Northern and Western Cape converge, at around 1pm and immediately unpacked and got ready to head out to the mountains. Tim was already there and had set up a great lunch for us to enjoy before heading out. After we finished eating we left for the farm we would be hunting at for the next couple of days and upon arriving we picked up Ronan, the farmer’s son, who would be our mountain guide for the hunt as he knew the farm inside out. Ronan and his family farm with cattle, sheep and goats. The farm has no high fences anywhere and all the game animals are free to roam wherever they like, making this hunt a truly 100% free range experience that would add to the challenge and allure of the Vaal Rhebuck.
That first afternoon we saw a lot of Vaalies and mountain reedbuck, but nothing worth shooting, at least not on the first afternoon. As we headed off the mountain some very cold weather started to move in and shrouded the mountain in a thick cloud as we reached the vehicle.
The next morning we got up at around 6am and had a quick breakfast, and as we looked outside we saw that the clouds from the previous day were still low in the mountains and there was a very gusty South East wind, which normally brings moisture to that area. Not discouraged by the weather we set off to pick up Ronan again, who wanted to look at a different mountain that he hadn’t been to for a while, but which held some good potential. We left the vehicle at the base of the mountain range and started our hike to the top. We immediately got into some Vaalies, but once again there was no ram worth shooting in the group. This trend went on for the rest of the morning, but I must say that I did not expect to see so many Vaalies in one area. It was truly spectacular to watch them through the binoculars and spotting scope.
As we headed back to the vehicle for lunch some more weather moved in and it started to sleet-rain on us. It all sounds miserable, but how can anyone be miserable when out in “big sky” country pursuing ones passion; the scenery was truly breathtaking. After lunch we decided to drive to another part of the farm where Ronan had seen some Vaalie, but never been able to hunt any. We did see some but they were out of the area long before we could even make a plan to stalk up to them. The Vaal Rhebuck has amazing eyesight and usually spotted us long before we ever saw them, and we usually only spotted their white tails as they ran up the mountain and over the other side. Vaalies don’t stick around for long and definitely don’t ask questions or wait around to find out the answer. Another day with many kilometers of rough terrain under our boots, and even though we still did not have our quarry we were not discouraged as we still had one full day left.
It was now Saturday morning and our final day in the mountains. Again, we got up at 6am and had breakfast. The weather at our accommodation was consistent with the previous day’s weather, but fortunately as we crested over the hills towards the mountains we would hunt, it cleared up and was a very pleasant morning. We decided to go back to the mountain we hunted the Thursday afternoon as we had seen a Vaalie that would probably measure about 7-7 1/2 inches, which is a very respectable trophy in anyone’s books. Having discussed a game plan with Ronan we set off and made our way up the mountain. As we peered over a ridge close to the top of the mountain we spooked a herd of 14 (!) mountain reedbuck, which hightailed it down the other side never to be seen again. We inched our way forward and to our surprise there were two Vaal Rhebuck rams still grazing down in the gully where the mountain reedbuck had come from. We got into a position where I could set up and see if it was a shooter. We judged the bigger of the two rams to be about 6 inches and I must say that I was very tempted to shoot. But after all the effort we had put in so far it did not seem right to shoot a sub-par and still-young animal just to be able to say I shot one. I would rather go home empty handed, but with the knowledge that I did everything I could to get one, than to go home with something I wasn’t happy with, so we let the two of them spot us and move off. We continued on and had reached the other end of the mountain before seeing anything again, and all we saw was the white tails of Vaalies that had spotted us long before we saw them (as usual), disappearing over the edge never to be seen again. We were now starting to worry and get discouraged, as there was no sign of the Vaalie we had seen two days before. Heading back on the other side of the mountain we came across the 6 inch ram and his younger companion, and had a serious look at him again. But it still did not feel right. As we watched them disappear off the mountain to our left Tim spotted something on the highest peak about 1km away.
It was the Vaalie that we had been after. He was laying right on the skyline overlooking his kingdom, and had clearly been watching us all morning knowing that we had not seen him and thus we were not a threat. We quickly made a plan for Tim and I to try and stalk him from the back side as Ronan headed to a vantage point where he would try and guide us to the location of the Vaalie. As we headed around and up the far side we unfortunately spooked some Vaalie females that we had not seen prior, and they ran up the mountain. Ronan let us know that our ram had gotten up to look at what was going on. We rushed to get up the mountain in the hope that we could spot the ram before he saw us, but as we crested the mountain he and his companions caught a glimpse of us and headed down the other side. We hurried to the edge of the mountain in the hopes that we could see them as they stopped to give us one last look before disappearing for good. They stopped at 500m and I picked out the one with the biggest horns and squeezed the trigger. A clean miss! I was devastated! There went my only chance so far and I had not taken enough wind drift into consideration. We were now not far from the vehicle and seeing as it was already half-past-one we decided to go down to the vehicle and grab some lunch. We called Ronan to come and meet us at the vehicle. We were only about half way down the mountain when Ronan, who was coming around the mountain from the bottom, contacted us and told us that he had spotted a large Vaalie, probably 8 inches plus, about 1 km away. This was a ram that we had not seen before and it got us excited. Ronan saw where the ram had bedded down; we could not spot him from our location, and he met us at the vehicle for a quick lunch.
Lunch was gobbled down quickly and we were ready to put a stalk on the bedded ram that Ronan had spotted. We proceeded around the base of the mountain hugging a small ledge that managed to conceal us well from the weary eyes of the Vaalie. Once we got to just below where Ronan believed he last saw it, we told him to go and peek over the ledge so it wasn’t too many people that could potentially spook the animal. He peered over the ledge. Nothing! My heart sank a bit but I was hopeful we were just in the wrong place, and we hadn’t heard or seen anything run away yet. Tim got up on the ledge and looked to the left with his binoculars and dropped to his knees whispering “big Vaalie to our left laying down!” and I leopard-crawled to a rock about 10m from our position to get a better view. Once I was set up I started to hear the Vaalie alarm bark and frantically started looking where it was coming from. These little creatures are so well adapted and camouflaged in their habitat that without movement they are invisible. Ronan helped guide me towards the direction of where the Vaalie was standing, as he was the only one who could see it at this point. I finally picked it up in my scope, it was facing me dead on and I remembered Tim saying that the frontal shot is a very difficult one as 4 inches left or right would be a miss on this small animal. He was starring right at me so there was no time to range him or even wait for him to turn, as he then would surely had disappeared up the mountain. I steadied the crosshairs high on his chest at the base of the neck and let the bullet fly. The sound of the bullet impacting was, at that point, one of the most amazing sounds to hear. The recoil took me off the animal and I lifted my head just in time to see the Vaalie go down after having run just a few meters up the mountain.
At that moment I felt Tim jump on me, congratulating and shaking me! I honestly was a bit in shock and couldn’t believe that we had finally done it. I never got a good look at his horns, however I did see that they were thick and passed the ears, because I was just focusing on getting steady and putting in a clean kill shot. Walking up that mountain for the last time was easier than I thought, and it must have been due to the adrenaline that was pumping through my veins. Getting up to a killed animal always holds a mix of sadness and happiness to me, and I am always thankful and filled with respect for the animal that has just given its life for me. Seeing the Vaalie for the first time up close I could not believe how small they actually are, and when I saw the horns on this one I knew he was something very special. I had never seen one up close before and thus didn’t want to have a go at judging the length but they were definitely above average. The fur is more like a rabbit’s fur than that of an antelope and that probably adds to the fact that they are so well camouflaged. Touching him and holding the horns for the first time felt surreal and only after we had set up for photos and started the walk back down the mountain to the vehicle did it really kick in what we had just accomplished. This is one of the trophies that I will cherish the most and definitely one that I have worked the hardest for. But after more than 40km of hiking in two-and-a-half days we had finally done it!
Tim was singing all the way to the vehicle, which lead me to believe there might still be something else he hasn’t told me yet. We got down the mountain, Ronan carrying the Vaalie on his shoulders, and Tim met us with the vehicles by the road. Tim, who also works for Karoo Taxidermy, wanted to get the innards out of the animal as quickly as possible to prevent hair slip as this trophy definitely deserved to be full mounted. Before we got to that it was time to finally measure our hard earned trophy. As Tim put the measuring tape on the horns and I saw the tape get longer and longer I waited in anticipation to see how long they were. 9 2/8th – 9 inches in length and 2 6/8th bases! We were all flabbergasted at what we had just achieved, and I say “we” because it truly was a team effort. Tim admitted to me that he was singing because when he saw the Vaalie laying there on the mountain he had a feeling it would be very close to 9 inches. To put 9 inches (which doesn’t sound like that much) into perspective, a 9 inch Vaalie is like shooting a 60 inch kudu bull! Adding the length and bases of the two horns together put it tied 24th in the SCI Record Book rankings.
After the entrails were removed and we made our way back to the farm house to skin it properly, I looked back at the mountains which were the Vaalie’s kingdom and I thought to myself how privileged I was to be able to pursue such an amazing creature completely free range in its natural environment. Nothing can beat that experience and it will stay with me for the rest of my life. The king of the mountain had fallen but would not be forgot and will be forever preserved to show him the respect that he deserves and allow everyone to revel in his glory.
Hitting the long road back home I couldn’t help but think back to those days spent in the mountains and as hard as it was, it was also satisfying and nourishment for the soul. There is just something about being out in wide-open country pursuing a quarry that has every advantage over you – eyesight, hearing, smell etc – which speaks to the primal nature in our soul. I believe every human needs to tap into this primal instinct every now and then for our souls to stay healthy and whole, and what better way to do this than to pursue the king of the Sneeuberg Mountains.
Tim van Heerden was born and has spent most of his life in the Eastern Cape of South Africa. Apart from being the marketing manager at Karoo Taxidermy in Graaff-Reinet, he offers bird hunting trips to clients from all over the world. He feels most at home in the highlands of the Karoo, especially behind a brace of English Pointers pursuing Greywing Francolin. He also offers Waterfowl hunts, as well as European-style driven Guineafowl hunts in South Africa to discerning clients.
Daybreak finds us sitting close to the camel thorn fire, for the morning air is chilly. Soon the kettle boils and coffee is brewed. Another day on the arid hunting grounds awaits. My hunting friend Lance and I have pursued many animals with some success, but it is the gemsbok, Namibia’s most formidable swordsman, which Lance so dearly longs to track, test his skills against, and hunt…
This particular gemsbok has grazed throughout the night to escape the heat of the desert’s scorched lands. It now stands in the direct sun, with burning sand under its hoofs, shifting its weight now and again. It hasn’t had water on its blackened tongue for weeks. It has maintained its diet by scenting out roots and bulbs, and digging them out of the sand with its strong, sharp, heavy hoofs, quenching its thirst by lucky finds of moisture. When Africa is conjured up in the mind, many see lush savannahs and jungles. But the Kalahari and Namib deserts are regions defined by drought, and they test survival on a daily basis, of both man and beast.
Lance and I have left camp early, grateful for the blessed coolness of morning with its refreshing dew. From years of a semi-sedentary life, he has been unable to cope with discomfort and irritation. We walk in a landscape that consists of vast level plains, haunted by mirages, sand dunes, with arid mountain ranges – usually mere piles of bare rock. Soon the sun sucks the last drop of moisture from the air and sands.
We push on. We see some bustards and snakes, and groups of springbok in the distance. We climb to the top of a small dune, lie down and carefully scan the plains from east to west. A faint breeze swirls over our perspiring bodies. While we lie there, a jackal shambles up the steep slope of loose sand and meets us, face to face. It regards us with bewilderment for a second and then dashes back with a yelp. Lance and I exchange glances as we wordlessly share this moment. The heat has now reached full force with temperatures must be around the 40s.
“Let’s push on and forget about the heat,” I try to motivate my friend. The sun beats down fiercely, and the sand over which we trudge burns through the soles of our shoes. On the right, a small thicket of black sticks becomes visible, standing at various angles. The rest of the gemsbok is out of sight, nothing visible but the long and straight horns. But as we near them, the thicket of “black sticks” becomes agitated. It breaks up, scatters and regroups in smaller thickets. Then the herd of gemsbok swings away at a gallop and speeds upwind, leaving a long trail of dust to mark its course and finally melting into the mirage.
Far off, ahead of the herd, the aristocrat of the desert, a lone bull is resting in the mid-day haze under the scant shade of a tree, surrounded by miniature pyramids of dry gemsbok droppings, where he has marked this area as his territory. He left the herd months ago, leaving the females to their fate. They have their own lethal set of horns to defend themselves and their young. He is old and tired, and the natural instinct to pass on his genes for future herds is long lost. He faces the slight breeze, pants, inhales and exhales rapidly through his nose, a nose lined with a network of small blood vessels that are cooled by the air pulled into the nose to ensure that blood enters his brain at a lower temperature.
Lance and I don’t escape our share of hardship. We carry our own water, but that previously cool refreshment has now warmed to a hot tea temperature. Even so, we drink it gratefully. The heat reflecting off the ground and stones is almost unbearable, but we are able to endure it while moving. But the stillness of the desert and the glare from the surroundings is weighing Lance down.
“Shade – coolness – where is it,” he asks. “Even darkness would be a relief.” I realize that something approaching desperation seizes him, and I feel close to calling it a day and turning back. But then I spot a tree in the distance towards the west. As Lance turns to face a slight breeze, he regains some enthusiasm and puts my thought into words: “Wind in your face, sun at your back.” With renewed hope we turn westward and head for the shady tree. Suddenly, and with our sights set on tree in the distance, three gemsbok calves rise at about sixty meters and stare at us.
About three to four months old, they are a most extraordinary sight. Their necks, chests and flanks are covered with long vivid red hair. They have shaggy red manes and big, black, muzzles; their ears are enormous. Lance mistakes them for lion and becomes terrified, until I tell him what they are. Once his adrenaline rush subsides, we are able to continue. The gemsbok calves gallop off in confusion, sweeping left and right, and finally speeding towards the direction where we last saw the big herd disappear. I admire their agile movements in the rocky terrain, which poses no obstacle for gemsbok – the divisions of their hooves, connected by a strong membrane of muscle, expand widely and stretch apart when they tread on a stone, the membrane serving as a supporting spring.
And then, as we look back to the lone tree with its inviting coolness, I spot the slight movement of a white underbelly beneath it, and whisper excitedly to Lance to look at it though his binoculars. Finally, with sweaty fingers slipping and sliding over the warm binoculars, Lance lays eyes on the striking beast. We gaze at the black and white patterns around its legs and underbelly, the iconic facial markings that deflect the heat and make the gemsbok so stunningly beautiful. It is the result of a long period of evolution to make him attractive in the eyes of the females of his species. He is a mere 200 meters away, still facing away from us.
Lance and I swiftly move closer, he crouched low, my head bent downwards, hoping that the gemsbok will not sense us closing in on him. But when, at 120 meters away from the gemsbok I raise my head to take a quick look, it is as if he had read my mind – the famous sixth sense of the gemsbok has already kicked in. He is facing us now. He stands statue-like, defying his enemy, his muscular shoulders and flanks, tense, his wiry hair erect and quivering. His trumpet-shaped red nostrils seem to exude defiance.
I look at his deadly weapon, the long, slim, pitch-black horns shimmering in the sun, and a quick thought plays with my sub-conscience… that the gemsbok, without breaking his stride, can sweep his formidable horns as quick as lightning and impale anything within a meter on either side of him. And suddenly, at this moment I am not eager for Lance to shoot. It is enough to simply gaze at the impassive face. I, the hunter, who with my friend, so much longed to take this formidable swordsman, now just want to revere him.
The hunter’s instinct is one which is most deeply rooted in the mind of man. As Lance slowly lifts his rifle to his shoulder – a second too late, a deliberate moment too long spent scrutinizing the beast before us. The gemsbok turns and trots off, as if challenging us to follow. Lance follows him only through his scope, lowering his the rifle as the gemsbok pauses on top of a dune It catches the evening breeze, and gazes down on us one last time. I realize that Lance had had the same fleeting emotion pass through him.
Day faded, and the dome of stars seemed to be drawn around us. How intensely still it was, how utterly peaceful, where Lance and I seemed to have reached Nirvana.
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The gemsbok has several interesting peculiarities. Namibians think so highly of the gemsbok Oryx gazella, that the national coat of arms depicts two of these magnificent animals representing courage, elegance and pride, on either side of a shield covered with the national flag. If you see these antelope in their desert surroundings you will immediately understand their prominent place in the hearts of Namibians.
A legal market in rhino horn continues to be stubbornly opposed by the South African Government, CITES, the animal rights movement and well-meaning but misguided people all around the world. But demand for rhino horns continues unabated, and the people who want this product have plenty of money. In the absence of a legal market, the horns are simply obtained illegally. And because money is involved, those tasked with protecting the rhino are sometimes themselves sufficiently corrupted to get involved in the illegal trade.
Such betrayal of trust by those who are employed to protect these magnificent creatures is the most nauseating behaviour imaginable on the part of the perpetrators. In September 2020 three SANParks employees were apprehended for rhino poaching in the Kruger National Park (KNP) on the eve of World Rhino Day. Two were caught in the act of dehorning the animal they had just killed. The third suspect is none other than the section ranger of Lower Sabie, who allegedly supplied his two accomplices with the rifle they had used to slaughter the animal. This was reported by Nicolene Smalman in The Lowvelder newspaper.
These fortuitous arrests happened because police and SANParks officials were in the right place at the right time. They were busy with routine operations in the park – visiting old poaching scenes in the Lower Sabie area – collecting DNA and other evidence, when they heard two shots being fired. They immediately went to investigate and made a gruesome discovery. A field guide and the gardener of the section ranger were allegedly busy dehorning a white rhino when the officials stumbled upon them.
They were immediately arrested and a hunting rifle, ammunition, vehicle and poaching equipment were seized. It later emerged that the rifle (a .458 calibre) apparently belonged to the section ranger, who was also arrested. The men were detained in the holding cells at Skukuza Police Station.
Mr Abe Sibiya, acting CEO of SANParks, congratulated the officials who effected the arrests “These send a strong message that officials alleged to be involved in poaching will be arrested and face the full might of the law,” he said. “It is unfortunate that those trusted with the well-being of these animals are alleged to have become the destroyers of the same heritage they have a mandate to protect.”
Even more concerning is that this betrayal of trust seems to extend to members of the South African Police Service (SAPS). Legal Brief Environmental of 4 November 2020 published the following report:
“A Mpumalanga police constable with links to a syndicate allegedly behind ‘massive trafficking’ of poached rhino horns was arrested last week. A News24 report notes that six other suspects, mostly current and former police officers, were arrested in Mpumalanga two days previously. Phenias Lubisi, a former station commander in Skukuza now working at Calcutta; Xolani Lubisi, a former officer at Calcutta; Constable Thembisile Mhlanga, from Skukuza SAPS; Clyde Mnisi, the alleged ‘right hand man’; Petrus Mabuza Mshengu, and former White River SAPS officer Joe Nyalunga, appeared in the White River Magistrate’s Court on charges of theft, conspiracy, illegal buying and selling of rhino horns, corruption and money laundering. The case was postponed.
“The officer arrested last, who works at the Acornhoek Stock Theft Unit, was expected to appear in the Hazyview Magistrate’s Court later in the day. She will face similar charges as her co-accused, Hawks spokesperson Brigadier Hangwani Mulaudzi said. Luxury vehicles, motorbikes, trucks, trailers, generators and equipment worth millions of Rands were seized during the multi-agency swoop. It is alleged that the syndicate operated with almost military precision around the Kruger National Park (KNP), as well as in private and state-owned reserves in KZN and Gauteng. Mulaudzi alleged: ‘These are the guys who organised the snipers. These are the guys who were making millions.’”
When park officials and police officers are themselves involved in the illegal trade in rhino horns, it seems clear that the efforts to prevent the extinction of these beleaguered animals are being completely undermined from within. When will we realise that this war is being lost, and that we need to implement a different strategy? When all the rhinos have been killed? Surely there must be another way to prevent this from happening!
Dr John Ledger is a past Director of the Endangered Wildlife Trust, now a consultant, writer and teacher on the environment, energy and wildlife; he is a columnist for the African Hunting Gazette. He lives in Johannesburg, South Africa.
