Apr 24, 2019 | News
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Mozambique Búfalo! By Vance Squires
In October 2017, I got an offer for an all-inclusive hunt for free-range Cape buffalo in Mozambique. The old-fashioned, one-on-one, track, stalk and hunt in the bush.
I had originally met Roche and his wife Ansu in 2017 at an outdoor show in Harrisburg, and had booked a September 2018 plains and buffalo hunt and photo safari with Roche Safaris in South Africa for my wife and I. I hoped to hunt kudu, gemsbok, impala and nyala, followed by a photo safari through the Kruger National Park. Then out of the blue, Roche offered me an end-of-the-year, 2017, all-inclusive hunt in Mozambique with all permits! I had just enough time for him to apply, and I could still make a 10-day hunt before the season closed on 30 November. I was already on vacation for the deer season, and everything just fell into place. We had all kinds of plans and relatives coming in for Thanksgiving, but my wife said that I couldn’t pass up this opportunity, and to go…
Am I lucky or what! She knew that Cape buffalo was on my bucket list, but I never expected a free-range hunt was in my future. All I had to do was get from Pittsburgh to JFK airport in New York.
Fast forward to Mozambique: We started hunting at daybreak, but didn’t see any bull tracks that we could follow. The next couple of days we jumped buffalo in the thick thorny bush two mornings in a row, and walked up on a herd just before dark on the second evening, but could not get on a good bull before dark. Talk about excitement! We paralleled those buffalo in the bush at 50 yards for 30 minutes and set up for a shot several times. It was almost dark, before a huge cow decided to spook the herd. That old adage that a buffalo looks at you like you owe it money is the truth.
I got my buffalo on the third evening (the day before Thanksgiving) using a Ruger guide gun in .375 Ruger, shooting hand loads using 300-grain Swift A Frame bullets and Hornady factory solids. The first shot at 36 yards put him down, and we ran up and I put two more in him to make sure he stayed down. My PH said that the bull would probably be close to 1.2 ton in weight. What a monster! His horns taped 44½ inches across and he had 14½ inch-wide bosses. The next day Roche told me that with him I had killed the biggest buffalo in 10 years, and his wife said it was the highlight of his career. In the three days that I hunted we tracked and hiked a total of 24 miles in 90+F degree heat. (32+C)
All the meat was donated to a couple of villages, the camp staff, and the guards and village at the Mozambique border. No meat is allowed to be exported, and my Cape buffalo hide and horns would only be exported after a few months of quarantine, a process they call dip and ship, to be sure all possible diseases were eradicated.
We stayed in Mozambique and explored the countryside for another three days, visited several villages, and saw a zebra that thought he was a donkey! The day after I shot the buffalo, Roche had wanted to explore some new territory for leopard and crocodiles. We drove for about two hours through the back country to another farm along a river. We found a caretaker, and as our trackers were translating the Portuguese conversation, a zebra came out of the bush about 100 meters from us. Roche asked if we would be allowed to take it. The caretaker said no, that the owner liked this zebra which had started hanging around his donkeys. Suddenly three donkeys appeared, and started in our direction. In just a few minutes the donkeys and zebra were within 20 meters of the truck, completely unafraid, and I got some great pictures. Zebra was not on my list, but I was glad for the opportunity just to see one.
After our Mozambique visit we returned to Roche’s lodge in South Africa where he has a great staff that wait on you hand and foot and are always eager to please. Roche took me to Kruger National park on a photo safari. It’s got to be the world’s best natural zoo, and we saw almost everything, from rhino to warthogs right next to the vehicle, but no big cats.
Other than some squirrel hunting, I gave up my deer season that year, but it was worth it. How can you compare a deer hunt with a buffalo?
Vance grew up in the farm country of western Pennsylvania about 35 miles northwest of Pittsburgh. He was taught how to hunt, trap and fish by his father, Harwood Squires who grew up on farms in central West Virginia. Vance actually started hunting when he was 12 years old, and shot his first whitetail buck when at 16. He and his wife of 42 years now live in Chester, West Virginia. Vance has hunted and fished in Quebec and Ontario, Canada, hunted in Newfoundland Canada for woodland caribou and moose, and in some of the western states for deer, elk, and pronghorn antelope.He has a life membership in the NRA as well as belonging to other sportsmen organizations, and is the leading instructor for Hunter Education for his county.[/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”chino” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fapr-may-june-2019%2F%23africa-hunting-gazette%2F58-59||target:%20_blank|”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_masonry_media_grid grid_id=”vc_gid:1556113031145-19fb1411-ba87-2″ include=”21245,21248″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
Apr 24, 2019 | News
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Tanzanian Chui By T.J. Schwanky
The plan was perfect; we’d slipped into the blind during the pre-dawn darkness with minimal fuss and now all we had to do was wait for the sun to rise. The big male leopard had been showing up on the trail camera just before dawn and feeding well into the morning. It all seemed pretty easy. Perhaps too easy. Chui has a way of changing plans.
It was still an hour before legal light when we heard a thump on the ground in front of the blind. I looked over to Vanessa, and even in the near pitch-black, I could see her eyes get wide. It sounded like the leopard had just jumped out of the tree. Night hunting for leopards is illegal in Tanzania, so it really changes the game. We were filming the hunt for our television series, Outdoor Quest TV, and I was in the role of hunter and Vanessa was running camera. Capturing a leopard kill in broad daylight seemed a tall order, but our PHs Stephan Stamm and Paddy Curtis were confident we could get it done. They average around 90% success on leopards, and getting a daylight kill on film was going to be no problem according to them.
It was eerily quiet in the blind. The doves had yet to begin their morning serenade, and even with my gunshot ears, I could hear the soft sounds of an animal padding over the ground as it walked past us. We were right on a hippo trail, but this definitely wasn’t a hippo. I looked back at Paddy but his ears were worse than mine, and he sat blissfully unaware. Vanessa, however, was at full alert. The animal walked down the hippo trail toward the Rufiji River, and soon the sound was gone. Both Vanessa and I took a first breath in what seemed like several minutes. Had the leopard sensed our presence and vacated the tree? Was it just going down to the river for a drink? There were so many possibilities, and only when the sun peeked over the eastern horizon would we get our answers; or so we thought.
It was about 30 minutes later when we heard the raspy breathing. Vanessa was in the side of the blind closest to the trail, and through the thatched wall, I could see the broken outline of an animal. It was quite literally inches away from Vanessa, with only the branches and leaves of the crudely constructed blind separating them. I had no doubt it was chui. The next move was his. Each movement of the second hand on my watch seemed to take minutes. We were all frozen still, and no one even took a breath. I’m not sure who we thought we were fooling. The leopard knew exactly what we were, but all we could do was remain still and silent and pray.
We never heard the leopard move off, but a minute or so later he let out a number of guttural grunts a few yards in front of the blind. He continued to grunt as he moved up the dry wash, away from the tree. The leopard had let us know he was in control, and as the sun began to rise and the doves welcomed the morning, none of us were surprised that the tree was empty.
We were on a two-week safari with Heritage Safaris Tanzania in the famed Selous Game Reserve, and had hippo, buff, leopard and some plains game on our list. Buffalo was definitely at the top, but after walking about 20 miles the first couple of days and being outsmarted several times by big bulls, we ran into a good hippo bull in a postage-stamp-sized puddle, miles from the river. While hippo was on my list, I had reservations about how I’d feel taking one in the deep water, so when this one presented itself, basically on dry land, I wasn’t about to look a gift hippo in the mouth. We were able to stalk to within about 80 yards, but ran out of cover, so I had a decision to make. I set the .375 H&H up on the sticks and managed to lean my body against an adjacent tree. The crosshairs on the scope were rock-steady. I found the sweet spot just behind the big bull’s eye and, as the rifle recoiled I quickly regained my sight picture, but there was nothing there. Stephan urged me to shoot him again, and after seeing the bull had fallen right in his track, I put a second round into his spine for insurance. There was no need for it, but insurance on dangerous game is never a bad idea.
It was pretty amazing taking a hippo so far inland, and it was truly amazing seeing the impact they had on the habitat. I had no idea that hippos were such voracious grazers on land and how much they competed with other grazers like buffalo and plains game. Along most of the river, the grass was grazed right down to the dirt for several miles inland, entirely by the hippos. The Rufiji is home to thousands of hippos, and from what we saw, their management is critical to the long-term survival of all the grazers in the area. We saw dozens of hippo skeletons up on the plains during our hunt. Most had starved to death during a drought two years previously. We now had some camp meat and leopard bait as well. We’d been in short supply of both.
Vanessa was next up, and she had buffalo in her sights. While buffalo were plentiful, as were good-quality bulls, opportunity was not. We spent the bulk of our time in some dried-up river channels where the buffalo would come to lie in the cool sand in the afternoons, but they would spend the remainder of the day in the thick adjacent cover. We tracked numerous bulls and got to within 20 yards several times, but a shot opportunity just never presented itself. In the 100-degree heat and high humidity, it was hard to keep hydrated, but we kept up the pace, covering 15-20 miles a day.
It was on our fifth day that preparation and opportunity finally came together. We’d done yet another morning march through the thick cover and tall elephant grass, and got so close once that we could hear several bulls chewing – but again no opportunity for a shot was presented. It was as we were walking back to the Cruiser that we ran into three bulls in the riverbed. Our tracker, Karlos, quickly evaluated the bulls and got Vanessa on the sticks. She wasted no time sending a 250-grain bullet on its way, and the big bull reeled at the impact but spun hard and ran before Vanessa could get another shot into him. Karlos tapped his side and gave Vanessa a thumbs up. The shot had been good.
Blood was sparse but the trail was easy enough to follow, and of course it led into the thick stuff almost immediately. We could hear the bulls and see movement, but there was no way to tell which bull Vanessa’s was. Paddy suggested we wait a bit and let things settle down before following the blood trail any further. It was sage advice from a veteran PH who had followed up many bulls in the long grass.
Sweat stung our eyes as we inched through the heavy thorn brush. Paddy, Stephan and Vanessa all had their rifles at the ready. We had no doubt the big bull would not go far, but we also knew he would position himself to take on anything following his trail. About 20 minutes into the trail the blood stopped. Paddy took one of the trackers and headed right, and Vanessa and Stephan went left. The buff was running out of cover and we knew he was close. Whatever was going to happen, was going to happen soon. Then a shot rang out about 20 yards to our right. And a second. Then all was quiet. A million scenarios rushed through our minds until Paddy called out. They’d found the bull down in his bed and put a couple of insurance shots in him. Vanessa had her very hard-earned bull, and he was magnificent.
We spent the next four days searching for a bull for me. I came close many times, but either the bull just wasn’t what I was looking for or I just couldn’t seal the deal. And then, when Lady Luck did decide to grace us with her presence, it was in a most interesting way. We’d just stopped for mid-morning coffee under the shade of a big sausage tree when our game scout came running over, pointing to the south. We peeked around the tree and saw a herd of about 200 buffalo moving our way across an open plain. It was an amazing sight as they plodded along, a dust plume rising behind them. They were undoubtedly headed to the river to water, and Stephan urged us to grab our gear, so we could try to cut them off.
We worked through the heavy cover along a side channel of the river, but as we’d learned by now, the wind was anything but consistent, and as I felt a breeze caress the back of my neck, I knew the gig was up. We never heard them run off, but as we looked south, there was a huge dust cloud on the horizon. The buffalo had wasted no time getting out of Dodge. We returned to finish our coffee.
Before we could pack up after coffee, one of the trackers came running and indicated the buffalo were back, so we grabbed our rifles and headed off in their direction. The wind was swirling madly as it did every afternoon, but we had nothing to lose and soon we had managed to sneak right into the middle of the herd. We were surrounded by buffalo, but had only seen two good bulls in the group, and finding them in the heavy cover was going to be nearly impossible. My heart raced as buffalo moved all around us, many less than 15 yards away. It was exhilarating, but it was dangerous, too. If any of the buff took a dislike to us so close, someone was going to get hurt. Dangerous-game hunting is the ultimate adrenaline rush, and it makes otherwise rational people do irrational things. And, being right in the middle of 200 agitated buffalo was about as irrational as it gets.
Suddenly, the wind swirled hard and the buffalo bolted for the open. We followed. It was a mass of black bodies all moving as one, and I struggled to locate one of the bulls but then, as if on cue, the mass separated and a big bull emerged to challenge us. He stood facing us, his head held high in defiance. I asked Vanessa if she had him in the video camera. She did. I slipped the safety forward on the .375 and found the bull’s chest in the crosshairs. It literally felt like time stood still and that I was the only one in motion. I’m sure it was only a second or two, but it seemed to take minutes for the crosshairs to settle. If time did indeed stand still, the report of the .375 put it back in motion. The big bull humped up at the impact of the bullet and ran off with the herd. With so many buffalo running over its track, it was going to be difficult to follow up.
Much to my relief, we found blood in the first 20 yards, a sure sign the bull was badly injured and unable to keep up with the rest. The blood trail was heavy, and within 90 yards we found him down in the trees. A little insurance, and I too had my buffalo.
Time was growing short, and while we had plenty of leopards on bait, there were no big males coming during daylight hours. Stephan suggested we hunt some plains game for more bait for some new areas. I’d had my eye on a Nyassa wildebeest since we’d arrived, and after several botched attempts, I managed to take a nice bull. We wasted no time setting up four new baits, and by the next day three of them had been hit, including one by a nice male leopard, well after sunrise. With only two days remaining in the hunt, we decided to sit the next morning.
This time, however, we made plenty of noise as we approached the blind in the darkness. If the leopard was in the tree, we planned to scare it off, with the hopes it would return later after the Cruiser had left. Sneaking in definitely hadn’t worked earlier in the hunt. We still had about two hours before legal shooting time, but we wanted to be well settled and ready in case the leopard returned in the dark.
The doves had already begun their morning serenade when we heard a bushbuck bark in the riverbed below. It left little doubt in our minds the leopard was near, but as the sun continued to rise in the east, there was no sign of Mr. Spots. It looked as though it was going to be a no-show. Then, like an apparition, he jumped up on the trunk of the tree. I nudged Vanessa to push the record button on the camera. The leopard just stood there still, looking directly at the blind. None of us dared move. I had the rifle barrel supported by a rope but still needed to bring the stock to my shoulder. The leopard leapt up into the tree closer to the bait, but still showed no interest in it. He remained focused on our blind. It was as though he was looking directly into my eyes. Then he turned his head, and I slowly began to raise the rifle to my shoulder. But the leopard looked back, and I stopped. Sweat dripped into my eyes, but I dared not wipe them.
It was nearly five minutes before the leopard turned his head again. I was matching his patience, but my arm was now shaking from being frozen in one position so long. I lifted the rifle up, and found the familiar spot on my shoulder. I’d heard so many tales of missed and wounded leopards that I began to question my ability, despite the crosshairs being locked solidly on the leopard. There was no way I could screw this up, I thought to myself. But then I remembered that chui has a way of making his own rules. My finger tightened on the trigger. The crosshairs never wavered. At the shot, the leopard leaped high in the air and then hit the ground hard on his back. There was no way he was running off after taking that hit with the .375… but he did.
Paddy put his hand on my shoulder but we all knew this wasn’t over until it was over. Stephan radioed the trackers and they quickly showed up, shotguns in hand. There was no celebrating, no congratulations offered. They were all business. They’d all been on wounded leopard tracks and knew the gravity of the situation. I slipped another round in the .375 and we took up the track. The blood trail was massive, and within 20 yards we found the leopard… very dead!
Seasoned African hunters look at you differently when you tell them you’ve hunted Tanzania. Many say that you’ve got to experience real Africa. The truth is, all of Africa is real, it’s just in different states of development or political chaos. Tanzania, however, is raw Africa. While much has changed, much hasn’t. This is a place where things can and often do go wrong. It’s a place where insurance shots are a way of life…preserving life that is. I consider myself blessed to have experienced the Selous. With talk of hydro dams on the Rufiji River and settlements to go with them, it likely won’t be this raw forever. Hunting anywhere in Africa changes you, but hunting Tanzania lets you experience Africa in its most raw and untamed form. I suppose it’s a bit like experiencing old Africa – or at least as old as it can be in the 21st century.
TJ Schwanky is host of Canada’s longest-running television hunting series, Outdoor Quest TV and an award-winning author. He’s hunted on six continents and has been to Africa for 11 safaris, and will be returning again in 2019.[/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=” View article in E-ZINE” color=”chino” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fapr-may-june-2019%2F%23africa-hunting-gazette%2F50-51||target:%20_blank|”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_masonry_media_grid grid_id=”vc_gid:1556111314034-4da9493d-6d70-2″ include=”21238,21239,21240″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
Apr 24, 2019 | News
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Sharp Eyes: Springbok, Impala – and a Bushman! by Archie Landals
I am sitting at my computer on a cold Canadian winter’s day trying to recall every minute of our first African hunt. I am inspired by the pictures of our African adventures that adorn the walls, and refer to details from the journal and photo book from our first hunting adventure. That was six years ago…
My wife Carole and I had been on photo safari in Namibia with Louw van Zyl, owner of Track a Trail Safaris as our tour guide. Springbok and impala were the most common animals we saw, and the beautiful markings of these small antelope really inspired us to have them as our first trophies in our living room. Because they were so abundant we assumed we could find a hunting package that included both, and we wanted to hunt with Louw as our PH.
Impala, kudu, gemsbok and warthog were included in Louw’s standard package, but not springbok. Springbok had not been available on the property for several years previously as cheetah were getting under the game fence and had decimated the population. However,
Stephan Jacobs, PH and owner of Aandster Farm where my brother Duane and I would hunt, told Louw we could take a couple of springbok rams for the trophy price or exchange one of the animals in the package. The problem was remedied!
After being close to many fine springbok and impala rams in Etosha National Park we assumed it would be easy to bag trophies of both. We were in for a surprise! Unlike the animals in Etosha that are undisturbed along the roads and at the waterholes, springbok and impala are extremely wary in areas where they are hunted. It took a lot of spotting and careful stalking to get within range, because both species favour open grassland habitats and depend on their exceptional eyesight to avoid predators. Pronghorn in the southern part of Alberta, Canada are reputed to have eyesight equivalent to a person with ten power binoculars. After spending a week trying to get close to springbok and impala, I am convinced that their eyesight is as good!
Aandster Farm in northeastern Namibia is an area of ancient, low-relief sand dunes that have been stabilised for centuries. Much of the land is forested with small trees and dense, thorny scrub. A few old cultivated fields have reverted to open grassland savanna which is maintained in places by periodic burning.
Hunting at Aandster was a thrill. Whether it was spot and stalk in the hunt for springbok and impala, or following Joseph, our gifted Bushman tracker looking for kudu and gemsbok in the thick bush, it was always a challenge.
Much time was spent following Joseph as we hunted kudu in the thick bush. I glassed the open areas with my Bushnell Custom Compact binoculars, and mostly saw springbok and impala. Often their eyes were upon us as we looked at them! But the slightest movement from us had them on the move. Both species, particularly the older rams stayed well away from cover, and wind direction was a problem – on our first attempts we either ran out of cover or were betrayed by a shifting breeze.
Then our luck improved. A small group of springbok with one good ram grazed some distance from the main herd. They looked close enough to the edge of the field to attempt a shot if we were successful with a stalk. We drove about four miles, parked a mile downwind, and began a stalk through the bush. Keeping to the thick cover we got within about 500 yards. From there it was a cautious sneak from one clump of brush to the next every time the herd faced away. At 280 yards, cover was running out, so Louw got me on the shooting sticks.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“It’s a very small target at that distance,” I said.
Gambling on one final sneak we managed to get behind the last shrub, but were still 240 yards away. It was either try a shot or forget it. Back on the sticks I peered through the scope of the .300 Winchester Magnum, following the ram, watching for an open shot. He was always surrounded by ewes and smaller animals. At one point he lay down behind a tree with only his rump showing. I was on the sticks for about twenty minutes, but it seemed like an eternity.
While the ram was behind the tree I started shaking so badly that I could not keep the crosshairs on him. I raised my head and took a few deep breaths. Whether I had buck fever or simply could not hold the rifle steady for that long, I do not know. (Almost 60 years ago when I shot my first Canada Goose I definitely had buck fever, but not until after the shooting was over! I still remember hunkering back in the blind with my goose by my side. I was happy but shaking so badly that if another flock had come within range I would have had trouble holding my shotgun. Some memories of magical moments last forever.)
Finally, the ram stood up. With my PH, tracker and my brother for an audience, the pressure was on.
“Make sure the ram is clear of the ewes before you shoot,” Louw kept saying. “Allow an inch for the distance and an inch to the right for wind,” he advised. “The kill zone of a springbok is the size of a saucer.”
At 240 yards I was not convinced I could hit that, let alone by adjusting an inch. You cannot believe the relief I felt when I squeezed the trigger and heard the bullet hit. The ram tried to run with the others, but dropped after eighty yards. With the grassland savanna and a clear Namibian sky as a backdrop I happily posed with my trophy.
A few days later as we casually watched giraffe and a herd of eland from a tree stand, springbok appeared in a burned area a long way off. On the chance that there might be a good ram, my brother and Louw started a long stalk, and I followed far behind. Duane dropped a nice ram with one shot. The springbok has a patch of long white hairs concealed in the brown hair along the back, and when they are alarmed, the white hairs stand erect. Sometimes these hairs lift for a few minutes after an animal dies, and we captured that on photos.
Hunting two on one with Louw, it was my brother’s turn to carry the rifle when we spotted a herd of impala with a good ram. Once more, a long drive got us downwind, and our stalk through open woodland had fair visibility but still plenty of cover. Out of nowhere, impala were suddenly bounding though the bush. We dropped to the ground hoping to be less conspicuous, but I thought the impala had scented us and that was the end of this stalk. But soon the herd was bounding back the other way, only to turn around and repeat the performance. It was just the youngsters playing – what a thrilling sight. Then Louw pointed out a good ram walking toward us, and Duane made a great kneeling shot as it angled away.
It was day six before I got a chance at an impala. Tracking kudu through thick Kalahari Apple-leaf trees we came to the edge of an open field. As the afternoon shadows lengthened we spotted impala grazing with a herd of blue wildebeest far across the field, and Joseph’s sharp eyes picked out a good ram that I could not see!
A long circular stalk of more than a mile got us downwind on the other side of the field. Carefully peeking through the last cover, Louw pointed out the fine ram in the middle of the wildebeest. It was walking slowly, grazing, and with its head down only the top of its back was visible over the low shrub.
I was on the sticks following the impala through the scope and hoping for a shot where I would avoid hitting a wildebeest. After a few minutes, there were no animals behind, but the two in front prevented a shot. Finally, one of the wildebeest moved enough so I could see the spine of the impala just behind the front shoulder. I squeezed the trigger and he dropped on the spot. Louw radioed for the truck and we set up my trophy impala for a few quick photos as the light faded.
Aandster is a great place for those wishing to experience rural life in a remote part of Namibia. Grootfontein, the nearest town is about a two-hour drive. The farm and lodge are totally off grid. Hot water is provided by wood-fired boilers. Lights and freezers run on solar power. Seven native families live and work on the game farm and tend livestock on the adjoining Aandster properties. The native staff from the skinning shed also worked in the machine shop helping to maintain and repair heavy equipment – self-sufficiency is essential when you live that far from services, and everyone learns to be a jack of all trades. Home schooling is the norm for younger children. Those in the upper grades spend the week in Grootfontein and come home for the weekend.
Carole and I had our own private cabin with all the amenities, and evening routine was sipping a glass of Amarula and ice while Louw cooked steaks on the open fire. It was a treat to eat what we shot, blue wildebeest being our favorite.
And now, Africa beckons once more. Carole and I are planning our fifth trip.
Retired after 40 years in parks and conservation, the author has hunted for as long as he can remember. He has hunted across his native Alberta, Canada as well as New Zealand, Namibia, South Africa, the western United States and the Canadian Arctic. In 2013 he was awarded the Queen Elizabeth II Diamond Jubilee Medal for his work in conservation. Along with his wife Carole he spends a lot of time in their rustic cabin enjoying the solitude of the Boreal Forest[/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”chino” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fapr-may-june-2019%2F%23africa-hunting-gazette%2F44-45||target:%20_blank|”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_masonry_media_grid grid_id=”vc_gid:1556109927975-c40b019d-c988-5″ include=”21233,21231,21232″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
Apr 24, 2019 | News
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“Did you hear the Oxpecker?” by Brian Gallup
We were in the bush with good men tracking the most dangerous animal in the world to hunt – the Cape buffalo. Though Sandy and I were soaked with sweat, we loved every minute of it.
Our plan was to hunt an old Cape buffalo cow in the Lowveld. We would sneak up close enough to get a good shoulder shot, I would do the shooting, my wife Sandy would do the videoing, and Pieter Kriel of Mkulu Safaris would do all the work. It was a good plan!
North of the Olifants River near Phalaborwa there is a lot of mopani bushveld, plus some nice big, rolling open areas, with kopjes surrounded by glacier-strewn boulders. The buffalo were in the mopani bush and you have to go in and find them.
The trees were widely spaced and we could see in any direction for about 100 yards – but so could the buffalo. The dry ground was covered with noisy leaves that were blown into serpentine piles. It was mostly flat land, with some ancient dry river channels. Mopane bushveld is exciting to hunt in. The tricky part is that the moody spring winds move through the trees from every direction.
We couldn’t have asked for a better safari crew. The two trackers, Samuel and Peter were good-spirited and on the ball. The outfitter and PH, Pieter Kriel and the back-up PH, Johan were real professionals, focused, able, and considerate. What’s more they loved the bush. And our cook, Michael, was awesome.
We would ride in the back of the hunting vehicle checking for spoor and watching for a herd. Johan was good with spoor, and he kept his eyes on the sandy ground as we drove slowly along, while Samuel checked deep into the bush for a glimpse of a herd. When one of them spotted something promising, we’d leave the truck. We wanted a herd with many cows.
If the spoor was good with lots of cow sign, we would start tracking. We repeated this several times a day for three days and never got close enough to a herd for a good shot at an old cow. It was hard work and the buffalo were easily spooked in the shifting wind.
Late morning of the fourth day we stopped for a break.
“We have been following two herds,” Pieter said. “One was mostly bulls and they moved east through here early this morning. Another herd with a good cow population grazed through recently. Maybe an hour ago. They are moving towards water.”
“The easiest spoor to read is the droppings. Cow droppings pile up like this,” Johan pointed with his rifle barrel. “Bull droppings splatter out. For the last half hour we have been following a smaller herd than before, and there is much less bull manure. This spoor shows plenty of yearlings and cow tracks.”
“You get the time line from the tracks and the dung,” Pieter added. “In this heat the dung dries hard pretty fast, and the wind quickly rubs the edges off the tracks in the dry sandy ground. A while ago some of the spoor we were following was a half-day old. Now all this spoor is very fresh. Two herds.”
At one point, Johan and Samuel were about 14 yards ahead of us, working the tracks and kneeling down to look through the trees for black buffalo legs. Pieter was with Sandy and me when he whispered.
“Did you hear that?”
“What?”
“Did you hear the oxpecker? There it is again. Look, you can see it now.” He pointed to something flickering in the treetops to the north of us more than 100 meters away.
“It’s a Red-Billed Oxpecker,” he said. “Where there is an oxpecker there is usually a buffalo. They eat the ticks and bugs off the buffalo. If I were following a wounded buffalo right now, I would mark this place with some stones, take a deep breath, and follow that oxpecker, because that’s probably where my wounded buffalo would be – circling around to get me!”
Johan and Samuel were still up ahead. When Samuel looked back, Pieter pointed to the oxpecker. The two grinned and nodded in agreement. The decision was to follow the bird.
We were back in the game. Sandy winked at me. No tracks, no droppings. Just an oxpecker in a tree. We began to see more of them fluttering along as we went, while Johan who was in the front would sometimes crouch down and use his binoculars to look under the branches for those buffalo legs.
The bush seemed to be getting denser, then at a waterhole in an open place about 65 yards ahead, even I could clearly hear the oxpeckers. We nudged forward through the branches until I could see our herd of bulls and cows drinking. And red-billed oxpeckers!
We had some good cover and a light breeze in our faces. I could smell the buffalo. The gentle noise from the drinking herd helped cover any noise we made. We reached some good cover within 40 yards of the water. I waited with my rifle on the sticks for Pieter to pick out a perfect old cow.
You know how it feels. Three days of stalking, sometimes frantically trying to get a shot off in time, but mostly just walking, creeping, crouching, and crawling. Now I was resting purposefully on the shooting sticks waiting for Pieter to say,”Are you happy? Take the shot!”
My single shot, break-open rifle, was a .577 NE loaded with the 700-grain Peregrine, Bush Master bullet over 116 grains of N550 powder. I was watching a big old cow through my 1-5 Weaver scope, when Pieter whispered, “Yes, that’s the one! If you’re happy, take the shot.”
The cow was standing at 32 yards with her left side to me and her head up. A bull stood beside her, and when he lowered his head to drink I had just enough room to slip the big slug over the bull’s neck and into the center of the cow’s shoulder. It was five inches above her heart, but it was still a good shoulder shot.
When a buffalo is hit in the shoulder it usually lurches, turns and runs for about 30 yards. But this old cow hardly moved. I saw the bullet hit, I saw the oxpeckers fly off her neck and I saw the bull jump away. For an instant the cow just stood there. As I opened my rifle and reached for another cartridge, she tried to lift her left front leg to take a step and she fell flat on the ground.
The Peregrine Bush Master bullet shattered her shoulder and plowed through her chest. The bullet showed a perfect balance of controlled expansion and penetration.
When we walked up to inspect her, Johan kept his rifle ready and watched the herd that was still close by. “A perfect cow to take out of the herd.” Pieter said, “An old cow, thin and worn out. Just as we planned.”
And above our heads, in the mopani trees we heard the oxpeckers.
Retired in BC, Canada, Brian recalls that his first formal hunting trip was with his father in 1958, for pronghorn antelope in southern Alberta, Canada. He and his wife Sandy have lived and hunted in some pretty remote places, including the MacKenzie River Valley in Northern Canada. They now spend more time in South Africa. “We keep going back to hunt and explore with our family and grandchildren. I mostly hunt Cape buffalo now.” [/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”chino” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fapr-may-june-2019%2F%23africa-hunting-gazette%2F34-35||target:%20_blank|”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_masonry_media_grid grid_id=”vc_gid:1556107577097-06cb2df8-61ea-1″ include=”21226″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
Apr 24, 2019 | News
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]The zebra is Africa’s most recognizable animal, requiring no description. Although related to both horses and asses and of the same Equus genera, the zebra is found only on the African continent, and evidence that it existed elsewhere in prehistory is unclear. In Africa the zebra is not found continent-wide, nor even close, but it occupies an extremely broad range across East and Southern Africa. There are actually three species of zebra: Plains, mountain, and the Grevy’s zebra; there are, or were, seven races or subspecies of plains zebra and two of mountain zebra; the distinct Grevy’s zebra stands alone.
All zebras are primarily grazers, social animals that form into herds. Typically, these are harems with a dominant male and his mares. With both mountain and plains zebras these are permanent bonds, but Grevy’s zebra groups are temporary, with the males wandering off on their own after a few months. With all zebras, surplus males form bachelor groups. Size of the herds depends on population density and available grass and water; mountain zebras, usually in harsh habitat, are found in smaller groups—twenty is a lot—while plains zebras can form into large herds.
All visitors to Africa want to see this signature animal, and indeed they’re marvels to observe…it doesn’t take long before the seemingly nonsensical stripes make perfect sense: In shadows the zebra’s camouflage is amazing. Even in sunlight the stripes merge and blend…and imagine what a predator, absent color vision, is observing in black-and-white.
I am not a casual visitor in Africa. I love to observe her wildlife, but I make no secret that I am a hunter, always looking with a hunter’s eye. So, with zebras, I am studying the striping patterns and trying to locate the stallion in the group. This is fascinating…and often difficult! I must also make no secret that I enjoy hunting zebras! Sorting the correct animal from the herd is an interesting and sometimes frustrating puzzle. When successful the meat is unusually marbled and fully utilized…and a zebra rug seems almost an essential safari memento!
I do understand that, accepting their resemblance to the horses we love, anti-hunters, many non-hunters, and all too many hunters are shocked by the concept of hunting a zebra. The best answer I have to the question, “How could you possibly kill a zebra?” comes easy: “Only with great difficulty!” We will discuss this, but first we need to get back to this matter of stripes.
BLACK AND WHITE?
The three species and several races of zebras vary in striping patterns, but universally have vertical stripes on the body and horizontal stripes rump and legs. The several plains zebras have stripes all the way to the belly, while the mountain and Grevy’s zebras have a white belly, their vertical stripes stopping short. It’s commonly believed the zebra is a white animal with black stripes, but recent research suggests the opposite: The zebra is a black animal, with white added during development. While some varieties have distinct striping, all are pretty much black and white…except: The mountain zebras have undertones of brown as youngsters that remain on the face in maturity. And several races of plains zebra have noticeable “shadow stripes” between the black and white bands that can be brown, gray, or muted.
So, which zebra are we looking at? There are hybrid zones, and today there are differences between historic native ranges and current distribution. The three species remain pure: At least in the wild, plains zebras, mountain zebras, and Grevy’s zebra do not interbreed! But some of the subspecies, and exactly where they range today, are a bit messy. Relatively little precise DNA work has been done because, after all, a plains zebra is not a mountain zebra…and the endangered Grevy’s zebra is very distinctive. Here’s a rough guide:
PLAINS ZEBRA: The plains zebra is Equus quagga. The type specimen, the quagga, E. q. quagga, became extinct in 1878. Once numerous, the quagga lay squarely in the path of South Africa’s settlement; the last wild quaggas were in Orange Free State. A few skins and photographs of one zoo specimen survive, so we know the quagga had vertical stripes on neck and shoulder and a dark body, perhaps with muted stripes. There are six extant plains zebra races, though not all authorities are in complete agreement.
Most widespread and numerous is the Burchell’s or “common zebra,” E. q. burchelli. This is the zebra most prevalent in South Africa, the southern three-fourths of Namibia, and most of Zimbabwe and Botswana. This zebra has the most prominent shadow striping, although zebra stripes are like fingerprints, no two are exactly alike!
Farther north is the Grant’s zebra, E. q. boehmi, found from Zambia’s Kafue (west of Luangwa) north through western Tanzania and on up into Kenya. This is the zebra I hunted in western Zambia, central Tanzania and Masailand, and southern Kenya. Grant’s zebra is a bit bigger than Burchell’s zebra, with mature stallions weighing up to 700 pounds. The big difference: This zebra lacks shadow stripes and has an extremely beautiful black-and-white skin.
The Selous zebra, E. q. selousi was once widespread in central Mozambique, but we almost lost this one. When hunting resumed after the long civil war there may have been as few as 20 Selous zebras in the Marromeu complex. Today there are more than 500, increasing nicely, with a small hunting quota. This is a smaller zebra, but pure black-and-white. Interestingly, the Selous zebra always has a white spot near the backbone, which is said to be where the striping pattern starts!
The Sudan maneless zebra, E. q. borensis. is the northernmost race of plains zebra. Described as late as 1954 by Tony Henley, then a game ranger and later a famous professional hunter, the maneless zebra does in fact have a very short mane! This zebra occupies a limited range in northwestern Kenya, Uganda’s Karamoja District, and southeastern Sudan. The few photos I have seen suggest a thin, muted shadow stripe, but the maneless zebras I saw in Uganda were in too bright light to confirm or deny this!
Chapman’s zebra, E. q. chapmani, is the zebra of Caprivi, adjacent Botswana and Zimbabwe, and southern Angola. Chapman’s zebra is a large zebra, up to 800 pounds, with shadow stripes much like the Burchell’s zebra. A major difference is younger animals are more brownish than black, and some Chapman’s zebras maintain the brownish tint into maturity.
In northeastern Zambia and on up through Malawi and into southeastern Tanzania the zebras are Crawshay’s zebra, E. q. crawshayi. This is the zebra of the Selous Reserve and adjacent areas. My experience is this a big zebra, generally a black-and-white skin with narrower stripes than other plains zebras…but slight shadow stripes are seen on some individuals.
MOUNTAIN ZEBRA: There are two, the Cape mountain zebra, E. zebra zebra; and Hartmann’s mountain zebra, E. z. hartmannae. The two are geographically separated, with Cape Mountain zebra occupying the smallest range of any zebra, isolated mountain habitats in the Eastern and Western Cape. They are visually indistinguishable, except the Cape mountain zebra is the smallest of all zebras, with big stallions weighing less than 600 pounds. Both varieties have white bellies and vertical body stripes, with brownish tints that usually darken with maturity, except on the face. Mature males of both races have a prominent dewlap, which can be a valuable hint when trying to determine sex. Perhaps the most defining visual characteristic of the mountain zebra is a triangular “Christmas tree” marking above the tail, where short vertical stripes meet horizontal stripes on the rump.
The Cape mountain zebra, is considered endangered and is not importable into the United States, but thanks to game ranching has been brought back from the brink and is increasing. Hartmann’s mountain zebra is naturally found in isolated mountain ranges from central Namibia north to southwestern Angola. Thanks to the game ranching industry Hartmann’s zebra is now widespread throughout much of Namibia, and has been introduced into some properties in South Africa. This could prove a problem; Hartmann’s zebra is much larger than the Cape mountain zebra, and the two subspecies will interbreed.
GREVY’S ZEBRA: To my thinking Grevy’s zebra, E. grevyi (unique species with no subspecies) is the most beautiful of all zebras, sort of a pin-striped zebra, found in northern Kenya, Somalia, and up through Ethiopia to the Danakil Depression. Grevy’s zebra is the largest of all zebras, weighing up to 900 pounds with big ears, more like a wild ass, while the other zebras are more horse-like in appearance. Regrettably, the gorgeous Grevy’s zebra lives in bad neighborhoods and is seriously threatened; as few as 3000 remain in the wild.
CURRENT OPPORTUNITIES
Well, it took me 40 years, but, except for the long-gone quagga, I’ve actually seen all the races of zebra! The only time I’ve seen Grevy’s zebra in the wild was in Ethiopia’s Danakil in 1993; even then they were completely protected. The tide seems to be turning, with the remnant population stable, but it is highly unlikely Grevy’s zebra will ever return to huntable numbers. In March 2017, in Uganda’s Karamoja District, hunting along the boundary of Kidepo National Park, we saw a couple of herds of Sudan maneless zebras. The manes are not quite absent, but clearly not the long, luxurious manes of other zebras. This zebra, too, is protected and has not been hunted since 1983, when hunting in Sudan ground to a halt. The population is stable and probably not endangered, but this zebra’s range is limited so it is definitely vulnerable.
All the other zebras are huntable today, depending primarily on where you are. Burchell’s zebra is, of course, widespread and numerous. Grant’s zebra is the zebra you will hunt in western Zambia, and central and northern Tanzania. You’ll love the black-and-white skin without shadow stripes! In Mozambique’s Marromeu complex the Selous zebra has been brought back from the brink and is hunted. The annual quota is just a handful; you need to speak up well in advance if you want this set of stripes.
Among the zebras, it is probably least clear exactly where Burchell’s zebra stops and Chapman’s zebra takes over. Without question Namibia’s Caprivi (now Zambezi Region) is the best place, and these are pure Chapman’s zebra…but, as with the Selous zebra, the quota is small, so you have to speak up.
In Zambia the Luangwa River is said to be the boundary between Grant’s and Crawshay’s zebra, so this one is fairly simple: You will be hunting Crawshay’s zebra in the Luangwa Valley, and in the Selous and adjacent areas…but Grant’s zebra lies to the west and north.
Thanks to game ranching, permits are available for the small and totally gorgeous Cape mountain zebra…but they cannot be imported into the U.S. The larger Hartmann’s mountain zebra is readily available throughout much of Namibia, also thanks to game ranching. A huge boon to ranchers, mountain zebra and plains zebra don’t interbreed, so today many areas offer both Hartmann’s and plains zebra. I’ve never known anyone who wanted to make a collection of all the zebras. It would be impossible, and also silly: Several are visually indistinguishable. But wherever you are, the “local zebra” offers a good hunt…and a lovely set of stripes!
IT AIN’T THAT EASY
Like I said, you will often obtain that zebra rug only with great difficulty! If you’re a “horse person” or you’ve ever done any horseback hunting you know that equines have all senses tuned and are amazingly aware of their surroundings (if only we could instantly understand what they’re telling us!). Zebras have all this, and more…they are among the wariest of animals in the African bush or, as our PHs like to say, “the most switched on.”
Zebras are extremely difficult to approach and difficult to fool. Unlike some animals, their eyesight is sharp…and their ears and noses are keen. All of this is compounded and conflicted by a simple physiological fact: Zebras are uniquely difficult to sex! It isn’t just that they are absent characteristics like horns or antlers! The stallion’s, er, junk, is very tight between the hind legs. In open ground you might get a glimpse, but in long grass or thornbush habitat, never.
The absolute mandate to shoot only males depends largely on the local population and herd dynamics. There is no shame in taking an older female. Stallions fight viciously, and mares usually have skins that are much less scarred. However, all things equal, in most areas we try to take only stallions. But not always. There is evidence, especially with mountain zebras, that, depending on local population, it can take a long time for a stallion to come into the herd. So, it’s not cut-and-dried, but typically a major hurdle in any zebra hunt is to identify the stallion.
There are many clues. The zebra stallion is generally larger and has a thicker neck; mountain zebra stallions have defined dewlaps. More important is behavior: The stallion can be the leader and will frequently bring up the rear, tending his mares…but he is rarely in the middle.
You have to keep looking, waiting for that glimpse, and take in all the clues. My first Hartmann’s zebra, in then-South West Africa 40 years ago, was in a little valley straight below us…no way to see anything from that angle. We watched for three eternities, and finally took the shot based entirely on behavior. Correct, we took the stallion. Last year, in the Eastern Cape, we had a small herd of Burchell’s zebra feeding and milling below us, it wasn’t straight down, but the brush was up to their bellies, nothing to be seen. We watched and waited; there had to be a stallion, and we thought we knew which one. After a tense hour the most likely candidate turned away…and for just an instant I saw testicles under the tail.
TOUGH STUFF
Legend has it that “all” African game is extremely tough. This is not true…but zebras are very tough! Hit a zebra poorly and you will be in for a long day…with unknown chances for recovery! The books say, depending on the subspecies, mature zebra stallions range from 550 to 900 pounds. Having shot quite a few but properly weighed none, I have no idea, but I figure 700 to 800 pounds is about right. Whatever, it’s a big animal and very strong!
The target area is large, and there is often an upside-down “V” chevron of stripes on the shoulder offering an inviting aiming point. With or without that guide, the middle of the shoulder is the right place, one-third up from the brisket. Center the shoulder with a good bullet that gets in and does its work, and there will be no problems. Flub the shot, and chances for recovery depend only upon the exact location of the hit and good tracking. Over 40-odd years I’ve only seen a couple of zebras lost…but I’ve been on some very long tracking jobs!
Zebras are often taken for lion or leopard bait, which means you need a zebra down now. The best-case scenario is to whack a zebra on the shoulder with a .375, game over. However, I have seen zebras taken very cleanly with mild 6.5mms, 7mms, and .270s; and the great old .30-06 is awesome. But what really matters on zebra is shot placement. You gotta do it right. If you don’t, a lot of extra foot-pounds may not matter. These animals are tough.
Both of my daughters, despite teenage girls’ affinity for horses, put a zebra at the top of their wish lists on their first safaris. (Knock me over with a feather!) When questioned, one said, “Well, my Mom tells me zebras are really tough and hard to hunt, so it sounds interesting.” Unsolicited, both copped to the real reason: “Well, I’d really like a zebra rug for my room.” Fair enough, who doesn’t?
Only partly joking, wife Donna has often said, “No girl has too many zebras.” This has created a monster. She has nine nieces…and each one now wants a zebra skin, whether as a wedding or graduation present. We’ve covered some of them, but not all. At least I have an excuse to keep hunting!
THE BEST HUNT
Difficulty always depends on terrain, vegetation, numbers of animals, the wind…and blind luck! Once in while a zebra rug comes easy with a quick shot…but not very often. Usually a few blown stalks and serious scrambling are needed. Honest, it’s all good…but the most enjoyable zebra hunting I’ve done has been Hartmann’s zebra in native habitat in Namibia’s rocky ridges, truly a magic hunt.
Like I said, the first time was 40 years ago, in a time when game ranching was in its infancy and mountain zebras at their nadir. Ben Nolte and I climbed to the top of the Erongo Mountains, following intermittent tracks and hearing their whistles. We got right on top of them among knife-edge ridges, a magic experience.
Since then I’ve done it many more times, certainly not all with me as shooter (after all, how many rugs do I need?). The mountain zebra in native terrain offers a real hunt, and a real mountain hunt! I may never fire another shot, but I’m sure I’ll make the climb a few more times![/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”chino” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fapr-may-june-2019%2F%23africa-hunting-gazette%2F22-23||target:%20_blank|”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_masonry_media_grid grid_id=”vc_gid:1604652011966-33116a0c-f5c1-8″ include=”21219,21218,21220″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
Apr 23, 2019 | News
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Bergzicht Game Lodge: Trophy meat gets utilized in every sense of the word.
Here are a few facts to keep in mind when trophy hunters visit Bergzicht Game Lodge. We also like to invite outsiders to enlighten them and learn about our day-to-day management. This article specifically focuses on the meat consumption of the trophies taken.
Right from the start it was part of our mission to make productive use of our resources, and it is vitally important to us to contribute to the social wellbeing of our local community. Therefore, almost every safari is part of a meat donation program to the local school.
As the pulling of the trigger is only a very small part of hunting itself, there are various other components accompanying a hunting safari which we regard as “part of the creating of a memory” experience. Not only do we have the opportunity to allow clients to interact with nature on a daily basis, we help them to understand our environment, our fauna and flora.
The hunters can do what they love to do, while they assist us in uplifting our community. The meat harvested will be donated on a regular basis to the local primary school in Dordabis. Dordabis is a rural village about 20 minutes’ drive from our lodge. This specific village is very dependent on donations and financial support from the surrounding ranchers.
The school has 255 full-time students. For many of these children this meat donation from farmers in the community is the only source of protein they get. We offer the opportunity to our clients to be part of this donation, handing over of meat should they wish to do so during their time with us.
To those who are against hunting – trophy hunting to be exact – perhaps it is time for you to realize that the meat from a large animal provides more protein and nutrients to each and every pupil which they may not have had otherwise.
Also, when our hunters bring along their own children we encourage the clients to take their children to the school. This allows the clients’ children to see how poor some communities are, and to teach them to be thankful for their own fortunate circumstances. In this way these children can, from a young age, see what a big role trophy hunting plays and the positive contribution it can make to someone else’s life. The smiles and happiness of those
village kids will leave an unforgettable impression.
When privileged children experience this first hand, it also creates the opportunity for them to return home with a better understanding of hunting, and perhaps be able to explain and defend ethical trophy hunting to their school friends who do not understand the situation. We are very keen to get youngsters involved in such programs, to get the message out there about trophy meat being utilized. Nothing goes to waste. This way a young hunter / huntress can feel as though they are part of the story.
At Bergzicht we normally use the prime cuts for the lodge. In this way the clients can enjoy the meat they harvested, and we have 20 full-time employees who also benefit from the meat hunted.
In Windhoek, the capital of Namibia our focus is more on the old-age homes. Here we again donate meat to the elderly. In this way they are sure to get top-quality organic meat without any hormones.
Be sure to get your next couple of African Hunting Gazette editions to get a better understanding of yet another important phase in the Bergzicht Game Lodge operation.[/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”chino” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fapr-may-june-2019%2F%23africa-hunting-gazette%2F100-101||target:%20_blank|”][vc_masonry_media_grid grid_id=”vc_gid:1556028035582-2ccf197c-7a79-3″ include=”21208,21207,21206″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][/vc_column][/vc_row]
