News Archives - Page 13 of 85

Hunting for “Blackie”

Apr 6, 2022 | Hunting Stories, News, News

By Ernest Dyason

Cameroon: 2022

Back in March of 2019, I was hunting in northern Cameroon with Mark Schroder from Houston, Texas, when on our last hunting day, while still on the hunting truck, we spotted a large herd of Lord Derby eland.

Standing about 150 yards away was this tremendous bull, black around the neck and shoulders, much taller than the others around him. For some reason, Mark just could not pick out the right one from where we were standing, ready on the shooting sticks, a short distance away from the truck. The eland left, and the rest of that story is documented in another issue of the African Hunting Gazette.

That image remained in my mind and I will never forget it. At night back at camp, I told Reinhardt, the owner of the Block we were hunting on, about the bull, and he named it Blackie. As I fell asleep I wondered if I would ever see it again. Probably not. Eland are wanderers and can cover lots of territory at a time.

In 2022 after Coronavirus finally began to ease travel restrictions, I found myself back in eland territory, deep in Northern Cameroon, with Brent Kitten, also an avid hunter and adventure seeker from Lubbock Texas, USA. Brent and I hunted together in South Africa and formed a lasting friendship.

Because of airline schedule complications, I ended up in Yaoundé two full days, before Brent could arrive. Yaoundé, is not my favorite African city, so you could imagine my frustration at being stuck in a hotel room. It is a noisy, congested city with smells that range from burning plastic to wood smoke to gas and diesel fumes. Very little English is spoken. When Brent finally arrived we set off on a nearly five-hour drive south to the Garoua area, the starting point of the hunt. We arrived just in time to meet Reinhardt and enjoy lunch and have an afternoon siesta.

During lunch, Reinhardt briefed me about the hunting zone. The year was exceptionally dry and cool. Normally in late February the day temperatures could easily soar way above the 100-degree mark. But instead, our mornings were cool, rarely reaching the 95 degrees at midday. I was definitely not complaining, but generally any unusual weather creates different hunting conditions as well as outcomes.

I was told about a small group of eland frequenting the “usual eland area,” and with them was a really nice old bull. “Maybe it’s Blackie,” suggested Reinhardt. That instantly brought back those memories from 2019, like yesterday.

After our lunch and siesta, we checked the zero on our borrowed .338 and went for a short stalk along the dry river bed behind camp, searching for whatever.

As expected from the German-made rifle and optics, the zero was spot on, and off we went.

About 500 yards into our stalk, our lead tracker whispered to me, “Cephalo rouge” (Red-flanked duiker). How he spotted this little guy, at least 150 yards away in the long grass, I will never know, but through my binoculars I could clearly see his horns, and the hunt was on.

The duiker kept feeding away from us, although we managed to close the distance to about 80 yards, set up the stable sticks and Brent got into position, in case a shot presented. I decided to give a short “lamb in distress call”, through my nose, to see if I could get him to stop.

The ram turned in his tracks and charged straight towards us until he got to maybe 15 yards away, where he stopped dead in his tracks, obviously noticing us. Brent made a great shot right in his chest and the trophy was ours. What a start! First afternoon, and an amazing red-flanked duiker with horns that would bring tears to any record-book-seeking hunter.

A few beers that night and some more discussion about the hunt for Blackie, was followed by a sound sleep under air conditioning driven for a while by the camp generator.

At 5 a.m. the next morning the noise of the generator starting up again, was the wake-up call. An hour later we were on the road, with the same hunting crew as in 2019. Gabrillo the head tracker, Osmano No 2 tracker, and brother to No 1, “Fat” our spotter. The was the fellow who carried enough water for the day, and my French translator, who was not really needed once we were on tracks and hunting lingo took over.

We saw where the tracks of a small group of eland had crossed the road ahead of us. It looked promising, so we were soon well on our way following on foot. The tracks took us into hilly country, crisscrossing all sorts of rough and uneven terrain. Although the tracks were fresh, we followed for hours, and then it e became evident that the herd had smelt us – the wind had started changing back and forth and the tracks were not just meandering anymore, but had a determined direction, straight uphill. Any signs of feeding had also stopped. It was really early in the hunt so I was not too worried, but I have also learnt that no opportunity at giant eland should ever be wasted, so on and on we went. Shortly before noon, and fairly high up on a mountain, we noticed where the eland had slowed to browse a little.

We slowed to a crawl, all our senses on high alert. The wind was terrible, swirling back and forth, left and right. Then my trackers hit the deck. One of them had spotted a tail swishing not 75 yards away in some thickets. It took me quite a while to see the butt end of a young eland bull, and the wait began. We could just barely make out the shape of the animal and the legs of another, presumably a cow. The younger one fed slowly into a clearing where we could watch him, but the rest of the herd was totally out of view. It was hard to image such large animals could hide so well behind so little scrub. At that stage I was still under the impression that we were following six or seven individuals, although the trackers said there were more than 50 in the herd.

The whole setup was too good to be true and soon I could hear them moving away from us through a gully, where they were totally obscured and where there would be no opportunity at a shot. I did however notice a massive set of testicles on one of the lead animals as they disappeared over the crest of the mountain! They did not appear to have been aware of us and were just walking away, so we cautiously followed, expecting to find a huge bull standing side on, just over the crest. No such Luck. The tracks went down on the opposite side, with no eland in sight.

The going was not easy. Loose pebbles and a steep slope made walking hard. Brent took a pretty impressive tumble and just in time saved damage to the rifle. The noise was tremendous and I was no longer hopeful.

At the base of the hill we found their running tracks crossing a road, and this, combined with the rising midday heat and our rumbling stomachs decided us to let them be until dusk, when most animals relax their guard and graze on into the night.

A whole roasted red-flanked duiker was available for lunch back at camp – very tasty. After a short siesta we went to where we had left the tracks.

Following the trail was easy as the herd had made a speedy retreat, and it was apparent that there were many more than six individuals. After a few miles of tracking I spotted an animal in the distance that I thought was a bushbuck, and a quick “Shush” got everyone hitting the deck. It turned out to be an eland calf staring back at us. Luckily it was a very young animal, and did not give any alarm. Brent and I peered through our binoculars, trying to make out the other animals. I did see a very impressive set of horns belonging to a bull that appeared to be lying in long grass. Brent and I crawled into a position to shoot in case it stood up or presented a safe shot.

The sun was now very hot on our backs and the wait was awful, but there was just nothing else we could do. Sooner or later they had to start moving as late afternoon approached. The set of horns did move eventually, but not as we expected. The animal was not lying down, but standing in extremely long grass, obscuring the entire bull with only his horns visible.

Time went by and I predicted that the herd would be slowly feeding along the edge of a dry creek, and that was where we found them. The whole team of trackers, spotters, water bearers and translator was instructed to stay put, or at least very far behind us. Brent and I crept forward slowly up a slight rise and over a small open meadow where we spotted the swishing tail of one of the herd animals.

Between us and the herd was a small outcrop of rocks, the perfect hideout to view the slowly feeding herd. As we reached the outcrop I heard different noises coming from our left side – a troop of olive baboons were making their way to the same viewpoint! I could not believe our bad luck. But when one of the baboons spotted us, instead of sounding the alarm, he turned tail and bounded off in an opposite direction, taking his mates with him. Maybe the hunting gods were in our favor after all.

From this vantage point we could view many of the herd animals, now numbering around 20 or 25 individuals. The sticks were up, and Brent had the rifle securely balanced and ready for a shot. From my left, I could see the impressive set of horns moving above the grass towards a clearing. My heart was beating double time!

“Get ready Brent,” I whispered, “he’s going to walk into that clearing.”

Then I had a full view of his neck and chest, but instead of the swollen neck and chest of an old mature bull, I realized it was a young one. It was our first day, and I was very tempted to give the command, “shoot” but just could not. My disappointment was obvious, but Brent had been quite clear in his wishes before we started the hunt – “I really hope I get one of those black old bulls, and if I do, it’s the only animal I’ll take and I’ll be very happy.”

The opportunity was gone and so was most of the herd by now. A lone young cow at the back of the herd stared at us and then stormed off into some low ground where we lost sight of them, giving us the opportunity to run closer in order to view the herd one last time. They were very relaxed, with the sun sinking behind us, dulled behind the dense cover of the dust screen or “hamsin,” so typical of the Cameroon savannah and especially at that time of the year.

In front of us was a spectacular scene, the whole herd, spread out in a small, low-lying burnt meadow, with “Blackie” sniffing at a cow right in the middle of the herd. I did not even have to look twice. All I said to Brent was, “Shoot the black one, do you see him?”

I blocked my ears, the shot rang out and “Blackie” went down 60 yards further on while the rest of the herd just looked on. We waited briefly, and our team sneaked up behind us to appreciate the scene.

Some minutes later, Brent asked if I minded him approaching the bull first. Words spoken by a true hunter.

If it was the same black one as that from 2019 we will never know, but was he the eland of Mr Brent Kitten’s dreams? YES!

Classic and Contemporary African Hunting Literature

Apr 6, 2022 | News, News

The Man-Eaters of Tsavo and Other East African Adventures

Written by Lieut. Colonel J. H. Patterson (Macmillan and Co., 1907, 352 pages.)

Reviewed by Ken Bailey

This is quite likely the most well-known story of African hunting and adventure. And rightfully so, as it has all the elements of every classic tale – tragedy and horror coupled with heroism and redemption. I’m mean, who doesn’t enjoy a good train wreck, literally and figuratively, especially one that stars man-eating lions and a decorated military figure?

Patterson relates much more here, however, than just the 1898 story of the two man-eating lions that, in what is now Kenya, terrorized workers constructing a Uganda Railway bridge over the Tsavo River. Still, it’s the six chapters detailing his efforts in dispatching these marauding lions that have made Patterson’s name so well-known more than a century later, and have been the inspiration for at least three feature films.

As might be expected from an Edwardian-era British army officer, the writing is somewhat dry and to-the-point; it’s not the writing but rather the tale itself that makes this such a compelling read. For those not familiar with the plot, Patterson was commissioned to oversee the rail bridge’s construction. Not long after getting started, railway workers, predominantly Sihk “coolies”, began disappearing from their tents at night, with evidence revealing they’d been carried off by lions. Thus began a several-month- long effort by Patterson to dispatch the two lions responsible. The attacks, and the deaths, became so frequent that at one point, bridge construction came to an absolute halt for three weeks. But in true British fashion, while concurrently dealing with disastrous floods and workers threatening to walk away, Patterson kept a stiff upper lip and (spoiler alert!) eliminated both of the lions, although not without some harrowing escapades along the way. How many people these lions eventually killed is up for debate (time has a habit of embellishment) but depending on the source, it’s anywhere from 30 to 130 individuals, a remarkable total in any case.

What’s been forgotten or ignored by many is that in The Man-Eaters of Tsavo and Other East African Adventures Pattersonalso describes numerous other of his hunting experiences, including close encounters with rhinos, hippos and even more lions, along with his interactions with, and descriptions of, the local indigenous tribes. Perhaps the most important of these stories is his tale of hunting and being the first to describe the subspecies of eland that bears his name to this day – Taurotragus oryx pattersonianus – the Patterson’s, or East African, eland found in Tanzania, Uganda, Ethiopia and other parts of eastern Africa.

If you’re reading this, there’s a good chance you already know the story of Patterson and the lions of Tsavo, but you may not have read the book. If you haven’t, I would encourage you to do so; this true tale has attained legendary status, and you owe it to yourself to hear a first-hand account from the man who was at the center of it all.

AHG Monthly March 2022

Mar 18, 2022 | Archive, News, News

March into Africa – The season is dawning

Back in January 2009, we hosted the first African Hunting Expo. It was a small group of African outfitters in Toronto, Canada. These boutique shows grew across Canada – also in Atlanta, GA.

Today, the model of outfitters promoting themselves, and for you booking your hunts, is changing. It has had to for so many reasons.

News from Namibia – The GOSCARs

Mar 11, 2022 | Archive, News, News

Wildlife conservation in Namibia is probably the best-managed in Africa, with a very strong NGO movement, community programmes and unwavering support from the government for a policy than includes sustainable use and hunting. One of the latest initiatives sees the establishment of the GOSCARS, which will reward those who have performed beyond their line of duty in community conservation activities.

The first annual Grassroots Owen-Smith Community Rangers awards (GOSCARs) will be presented on the morning of Thursday, 7 April this year at Wererldsend Environmental Center where Garth Owen-Smith and Dr Margie Jacobsohn lived and where Garth was buried two years ago on 9 April. Conservancy leaders, MEFT and NGO staff are invited to attend to celebrate Garth’s life and work through the recognition of the award winners – all of whom work on the front-line of community conservation for conservancies – and who have excelled at their jobs. This inaugural ceremony will be attended by Garth’s family, none of whom were able to attend his funeral due to Covid travel restrictions.

The awards recognise the men and women who work and walk in the field. These are the people the late Garth Owen-Smith would want to be honoured in his name. They represent the original concept with which Namibia’s internationally recognised community-based natural resource management programme started.

The annual GOSCAR awards will serve to remind us all that this is the front line of community-based conservation. Without community fieldworkers there would be no community-based conservation in Namibia; no communal conservancies; no communal forests; no communal fish reserves; and a lot less wildlife. The winners’ conservancies, and if appropriate their traditional authorities, will also get a small award, recognising that it is the people that live with wildlife and other valuable natural resources who hold the future of conservation in their hands.

Namibian community-based conservation started with the appointment of community game guards by a few traditional leaders in Kunene, and then later in what was the Caprivi, now Zambezi. This early work, pioneered by Garth Owen-Smith, was enabled by a small grant from the Endangered Wildlife Trust that covered community game guard rations and small salaries. These men were the foot-soldiers who stopped rampant illegal hunting in the early 1980s and who, with their far-sighted leaders and supportive community members, laid the foundation for hat is today a vigorous national programme, supported by government and various NGOs.

Those nearly-forgotten days were difficult on two fronts; community-based conservation went against the apartheid policies in place at the time, as well as against conventional conservation thinking. Communities were seen as conservation’s problem, not the solution. Those promoting community-empowerment were seen as subversive and a threat to the government of the day. With community support, pioneers such as Garth Owen-Smith, Chris Eyre, Lukas Mbomboro and others prevailed. After Namibia’s independence in 1990, the new government’s early realism resonated with the community-based approach that recognised valuable wildlife- and other natural resources as community-owned, and that linked rights to responsibilities.

The GOSCAR awards thus aim to promote community-based natural resource management by going back to its roots – recognising the men and women at the front line as well as acknowledging responsible conservancies and related community-based organisation which are accountable to their members and fulfil their purpose. Nominations for the GOSCARs have been called for and the process is being co-ordinated by the Namibia Chamber of Environment. A small committee chaired by Dr Margaret Jacobsohn will select finalists from nominations. Beavan Munali, former assistant director of the IRDNC, and former chair of the Zambezi Regional Council, is also a judge, along with two others. The information provided about the finalists will be checked in the field.

The winning men and women will receive a cash prize and framed certificate. The inaugural ceremony will also commemorate Garth’s life. These awards have been made possible by the generosity of hundreds of people in Namibia and internationally, who contributed to the Garth Owen-Smith Memorial Fund. The funds are lodged with the Namibian Chamber of Environment, which is doing the administration at no cost and will assist the judging panel with rising funds for the annual ceremony and other costs.

Website: https://n-c-e.org/

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. John.Ledger@wol.co.za

Warthog Fillet with Red Peppers and Onions

Mar 8, 2022 | Archive, News, News

By Leslie van der Merwe

The ugliest pig you will ever see is a warthog. Bushpigs are not glamorous, and giant forest hogs must have myopic lovers. But a long forehead, wide mouth and jaw, facial warts and a grey leathery skin with spiky hair is not exactly Miss Piggy’s greatest dream. Thick callouses on their front legs, where their wrists would be, and a hard snout caked with dirt from all the rooting. And then those triangular-shaped bottom tusks, rapier sharp, that have been the death of so many dogs. And leopards. And cheetah.

But warthogs have beautiful ivory. Those massive tusks curling up have every hunter’s heart skip a beat. And the bigger, the better. They did not get big by chance. These old boars are a challenge to hunt, because they are not stupid. At the first whiff of danger they are off, tails straight up in the air.

***The author with the Spuddy, the Ruger and a young warthog***

I have hunted and shot the old boars, including those with one tusk half the size of the other.

Many years ago I bought a Ruger Super Blackhawk revolver in 44 Magnum, and carried it as a backup on buffalo and countless bushveld hunts.

I shot a warthog, at 15 paces, in a maize field. He was happily chomping on a corn cob when the 240-grain lead bullet ended his life. The farmer was happy. So was I. No one asked the warthog.

Spuddy, my son’s Maltese-cross Jack-Russell (plus who knows what) always helps on a rifle hunt, his nose close to the ground, following a blood trail, absolutely fearless.

I have shot many warthog, and have my share of trophies. They say you can’t eat a trophy. I say you can eat a young, corn-fed warthog. Juicy, tender and delicious.

A signed copy of the book is available from www.gamechef.co.za

Warthog Fillet with Onions and Red Peppers

This is a simple, one-pan recipe that brings out the sweetness of the onion, tomatoes and the peppers. Adding the garlic towards the end of the cooking process gives the dish a kick.

Ingredients

2 warthog fillets (backstrap can be substituted)

1 large onion sliced

1 red pepper sliced

1 yellow pepper sliced

4 cherry tomatoes sliced in half

2 cloves garlic chopped fine

2 knobs butter

olive oil

1 pinch oregano

salt and black pepper

Method

Slice the warthog fillets into medallions, and season with salt and pepper. Using a skillet or heavy frying pan, add the butter and when hot fry the medallions, until they colour. Remove from the skillet and set aside. Add a slug of olive oil, and when hot add the onion and peppers, and sauté. Return the meat to the pan, add the oregano and garlic, and reduce the heat. Cook through, adjusting the seasoning.

Serving Suggestion

Serve with a starch of your choice.

The Twofer

Mar 8, 2022 | Archive, Hunting Stories, News, News

By Ricardo Leone

After another great Zambian Safari in 2016, we set out to try a new African country to hunt in 2017 with news species to chase after. Our friend, Richard Louw, who had recommended Hunter’s Namibia years prior suggested another Farm, this time in his backyard – a Farm named Ratelfontein in the Greater Karoo. The Farm is owned by Jan Pickard – a prominent South African businessman. Mac, my youngest son was my hunting partner for the third straight year; however, this year was going to very special with my two older children and their partners travelling to South Africa during the same week Mac and I were hunting. My eldest son and his wife were going to Phinda on a photo Safari while my daughter and her then fiancé, were going straight to Cape Town for R&R and to scout the restaurant scene. After our Hunt, all six of us planned to meet in Cape Town to celebrate my daughter’s birthday and then travel to the wine country together – a truly memorable family trip.

My other hunting partner, Manno, had been to South Africa many times and had hunted several Farms. Once at Ratelfontein, it was clear that Manno, Richard, and Jan Pickard had a common network of business contacts – this made for a very comfortable personal setting. Of course, Ratelfontein was a very welcoming place itself with a beautiful old Homestead where we all gathered for breakfast and lunch daily – Mac’s room was in the Homestead. There was a modern guest house where Manno and I stayed. There was also a dedicated stand-alone bar where we would meet each evening for Negronis and a posh barn where we ate our dinners and then would retire to the adjoining living room and sit by the fire to share stories and finish our fine South African wines. Everything was very comfortable.

Jan Westdyk (L) and Jan Pickard (R) – good times!

Jan Pickard was the perfect host. While I would normally “just” beat him to morning coffee, my bad for not being able to sleep, he would join me and ensure all was going well for us. Our downtime was filled with great cigars, cocktails, and amazing hunting history; all provided by Jan. Jan was an accomplished hunter and world traveler and while I was no longer an African Safari newbie and well-traveled myself, I learned a lot from Jan – clearly, he was the expert on the Karoo and would be involved in our daily plans. Our two PH’s knew the Farm well – one of them Manno and I knew from Hunter’s Namibia – supports the theory that the more you travel, the smaller the world gets. We had met Jan Westdyk in Namibia where he was Manno’s PH. Jan W had a long history with Ratelfontein and the Pickard’s – family of sorts. Jan W had his Smooth Fox Terrier with him, named Smirre – the dog was a hoot. His keen nose was most valuable. After the client shot, he could track any game. Once located, Smirre would immediately lie next to the trophy and proceed to nap – the type of deep nap that I was envious of. Mac and I had Mynhard Herholdt as our PH. Mynhard was a real character – he had his own Farm and ran a PH school. He had a young apprentice with him, great kid, who worked his tail off. At times we felt Mynhard thought Mac and I were his appreciates too – while we were the clients, he was not bashful about telling us what to do – which we appreciated. I always like folks like Mynhard who carry a few extra pounds like me; however, don’t be fooled by old Mynhard – he was a Billy Goat who could scramble up any hill without a breather.

One species that the Farm raised was Red Lechwe – while not indigenous to South Africa, they prefer marsh like territory for both food and protection. The Lechwe is golden brown in color with a white belly and have long ribbed horns that make fantastic trophies. Ratelfontein had a marshy area that we decided to explore for the Lechwe. As I had never seen a Lechwe, it was a priority species on my list. What initially seemed a likely animal to find proved more challenging than we thought. Yes, we could spot Lechwe; however, large males were elusive. When we did locate a few together, I soon realized I was having one of those “bad” days – I had three clear shots, albeit at a couple hundred yards and missed. I knew when I missed without explanation – I needed to take a timeout and take a confidence shot. Mynhard set a plastic bottle at 100 yards, and I took three shots off the top of the Land Cruiser. I missed the first two shots by an inch or so each and hit the plastic bottle with my third shot. Ok, gun was fine, and confidence restored. Now we needed to find another large male Lechwe.

While exploring, Mynhard spotted a few male Lechwes in the distance. They were in some grass feeding in a very large rectangular shaped block of land – not in the marsh. When we spotted them, the wind was blowing hard on our backs – totally the wrong direction to make a direct stalk. Mynhard made a plan to drive a bit further out of the wind’s path and then to take a long walk around. We were along one of the long sides of the block and the Lechwe were feeding in the far corner. We drove a bit more down the long side and parked in a washed-out dirt area below where the Lechwe could see us. Mynhard, his apprentice, Mac and I jumped off the vehicle. We then walked to the near corner where we turned right and headed to the far corner facing into the wind. This was a long walk and had us walking up and down eroded ditches. At one point we even walked through a huge drainage pipe – it was at least six feet high. We made our way to the far corner – now the wind was blowing directly into our faces which was our hope. The set up was perfect – the far corner was much lower than the block’s surface, so we could literally crawl up to the edge of the land where the Lechwe were standing and lay on the slope to the surface with only our heads in view. Mynhard took his jacket off, rolled it up and set it down for me to rest my gun. The wind was really howling – the Lechwe had no idea we were lying in position. There were two large Lechwe; the closer one about 120 yards, the next closest Lechwe a few yards behind to the left. Mynhard told me to take the one on the right – it looked slightly bigger. I took my time and squeezed the trigger – one shot and down.

The other Lechwe never heard the shot nor noticed his comrade was down. I slid down the hill, reloaded the rifle, turned around and shoved my gun into Mac’s arms – I told Mac to get up onto the slope, there was another Lechwe waiting for him. At first Mynhard looked bewildered – then he totally got the plan and took no time taking Mac to where I was lying to have a go at the second Lechwe. Mac preferred his Griffin & Howe .270. He never loved my Griffin & Howe .300 Win Mag; however, he did not bring his .270 on the walk and had no choice but to use my gun. The second Lechwe was initially behind my Lechwe; however, he had moved away from us – Mac had a shot at about 250 yards. Mac took his shot and hit the Lechwe; however, the Lechwe ran out of the open block to our left behind some shrubs. Mac and Mynhard slide down the slope and we all huddled to make a new plan. Mynhard then lead the way towards the shrubs – we could see the Lechwe moving slowly, now more than 250 yards away with the wind ripping right to left. Mynhard took his sticks and set them for Mac; I could see the wind causing the gun to sway on the sticks. This was going to be a tough shot; the wind would have made this shot difficult for anyone. The shot now ranged at about 265 yards – Mynhard kept guiding Mac – the shot hit the Lechwe – Bravo Mac! However, the Lechwe ran off again having been hit for the second time.

The author’s Copper Springbok – a 340 yard shot off sticks

Thankfully the driver had been watching from a distance and had the presence of mind to start driving the Land Cruiser towards us – we signaled the driver to come collect us – we had a wounded animal and needed to finish the job. Now on the Land Cruiser, we could locate and follow the Lechwe. Further, Mac could switch guns and have his .270 at the ready. While the Lechwe was still on the move, we could keep track and easily spot his path given he had been hit twice. The Lechwe did tease Mac a couple of times stopping long enough for Mac to start jumping off the Land Cruiser; then the Lechwe would run off again. The Lechwe was starting to feel the prior shots and slowed considerably. Mynhard stopped the vehicle, picked up his sticks, grabbed Mac and only Mac from the Land Cruiser and walked towards the Lechwe. At about 125 yards, Mynhard set the sticks. Mac moved slowly and deliberately onto the sticks, took aim, and fired a single mercy shot – Mac finally had his trophy.

We loaded Mac’s Lechwe and drove back to the block to collect mine – this was not a short journey given the travels of Mac’s Lechwe plus we had the added difficulty of navigating our way back through some washed-out roads. We had the rare opportunity to lay two trophies side by side with both Mac and me in the picture – an incredible father and son moment. Mac and I have many pictures over the years with both of us celebrating one of our trophies; however, this was our only true “Twofer”. Once the two Lechwe’s were next to each other – we made another discovery – Mac’s Lechwe had longer horns than mine! I poked fun at Mynhard; he had told me to shoot the “bigger” one on the right. Mynhard looked at Mac and said – “Mac, you have a good Dad; not only did he have the presence of mind to present you with an excellent opportunity to shoot a Red Lechwe, but he left the bigger one for you”.

The author’s Copper Springbok – with his Griffin & Howe .300 Win Mag

Ratelfontein proved to be an extremely productive Farm. I fulfilled my objective to complete a Springbok Slam. My Copper Springbok is the most memorable – a single 340 yard shot off sticks with my G&H .300 Win Mag. Jan W PH’d for me that day. I will never forget him saying “I was not betting against you, just wasn’t betting a lot that you would make that shot”. Thankfully, Jan’s dog Smirre helped us find the Springbok. On that same morning, Mynhard took Manno to find a monster Aoudad that eluded me earlier in the week – they were successful and harvested a Gold Medal Aoudad in the kopjes. As we mixed up PH’s on the two last days, Jan P guided Mac to find a Steenbok. Jan P found Mac a Steenbok that hunters dream of – a 6 ½ inch Gold Medal specimen that Mac harvested. Our memories of Ratelfontein and Cape Town will remain timeless – full of incredible hunting and family time – nothing better.