Jan 17, 2019 | News
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”orange” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fspring-2019%2F%23spring-2019%2F116-117||target:%20_blank|”][vc_column_text]New Huntress, Old Hunter
Two people go on a hunt together – one a seasoned hunter, the other a new huntress. Both have the same experience, but each extracts a different take on that experience…
The New Huntress
When Randy first asked me if I would be interested in going hunting in Africa, of course my first response was, yes, yes, yes. Later, doubt started seeping into my excitement. I had never hunted before, so I did not know if I could do it. I figured I would try my best, enjoy the experience, and at the very least, I could be Randy’s official photographer.
I grew up in a time and place where hunting was for the men and the girls were left home. My father only went hunting a few times when I was growing up, but the trips never included daughters. Thanks to Randy, I would finally have the opportunity. He has been a hunter his whole life and I admire the fact that he included his daughter.
Before our trip, I had the chance to meet our professional hunter, Stephan Joubert, at the Western Hunting and Conservation Expo in Salt Lake City, Utah in the United States. Randy also took the time to prepare me for our hunt. We went target shooting to see how comfortable I was with guns—and probably to see what he was up against. The next thing was actually hunting, because no matter how good of a shot a person is, it does not mean they will be able to pull the trigger when their gun barrel is pointed at an animal. Randy took me turkey hunting and I dropped a nice jake with my first shot. After all the preparation, I hoped I could at least get three animals in Africa. I couldn’t wait!
After a long flight from the U.S to Namibia, with a layover in Amsterdam, Hannes picked us up at Windhoek airport. The lodge itself was like a mirage, an oasis of thatch structures with green lawns, beautiful gardens, and an aviary filled with colorful song birds. We met Hannes’ wife, Geraldine, who had a beautiful table set and lunch in the making. Our PH Stephan Joubert, was there to greet us along with his Rhodesian Ridgeback, Ridgy, and Jackie, the lodge’s Jack Russell Terrier. We were the only guests. Bergzicht Hunting Lodge only takes one group at a time so they can offer a personalized experience.
After lunch, Steph took us to sight in the guns. I was surprised and relieved that, because of the suppressor on the end of the barrel, there was practically no recoil. I also learned that, in Africa, you shoot the animals in the shoulder in what Steph called the diamond of death because that is where their heart and lungs are.
Then Steph and our trackers, Fessie and Obed, took us for a drive. I was amazed at the abundance of wildlife. It almost felt like we were on a movie set and someone cued a herd of zebra on the hillside to come down and, in a giant cloud of dust, cross the road right in front of us. We also saw warthog, wildebeest, steenbok, hartebeest, and a large herd of springbok.
Our first day hunting in Africa turned out to be ladies first. We spent the morning getting a blue wildebeest for me—after I completely missed a springbok at 250 yards. We came upon a blue wildebeest and I took my shot. It bucked, then bounded off into the brush, so we had to track it. It was amazing to watch how Fessie and Obed could track an animal –they could find blood on a single blade of grass. We found our wildebeest, and took it down with another shot. It wasn’t perfect, but I got my first animal, earning myself a Bergzicht Hunting Lodge cap.
The day ended up being ladies last also. After our lunch break, we came across a gemsbok (oryx). I didn’t expect to hunt that afternoon, so I felt a bit more apprehensive. We stalked it, stopping in a copse of trees. I made a perfect shot, right in the diamond of death, but unfortunately, it turned just as I began squeezing the trigger, and the bullet went in at an angle. I shouldn’t have taken the shot since it was moving, but my reactions were not quite fast enough to stop. It didn’t go very far and I took another shot for my second animal that day. It was a magnificent gold medal bull.
I had successfully completed my first day hunting in Africa, ending with two beautiful animals. I felt relieved. Even if I didn’t get another animal, I did it.
Our second day was Randy’s, as we came across animals on his list – a steenbok, black wildebeest, and a hartebeest. The experience was phenomenal. I learned that mountain zebras have longer ears and faded stripes on their forehead, making them look more like a donkey than a horse to me. Regular zebras have shorter ears and dark stripes on their foreheads.
Each day we woke to a delicious breakfast, hunted until mid-day, with time to rest after a big lunch. I usually sat by the pool writing, listening to the birds in the aviary, and watching butterflies flutter around Geraldine’s beautiful gardens. We hunted again in the late afternoon until sunset, then returned to a cozy fire at the lodge and a great dinner.
On our third day of hunting, I did it! I got an impala in one quick and perfect shot, right in the diamond of death. The wildebeest wasn’t perfect. The oryx was better. But this time, I did it just right and it was another gold medal bull.
I ended up with eight animals and Randy got ten. For a lady hoping to get three animals, I far surpassed my expectations. I will have six head mounts and two European mounts for my wall—along with a traditional Namibian oryx tail flyswatter. We hunted in perfect weather and wind. Cold mornings and perfect afternoons. We stalked animals in the brush, on rocky outcrops, and across the savanna. We waited by waterholes for warthogs. I learned to use binoculars and spot animals. I learned to drop an animal in one shot and how to track a wounded one. I made a perfect heart shot on a springbok.
All in all, I dropped four of my eight animals with one shot and hit my warthog on the run. I finally got my tiny steenbok after missing three others. I learned that I can shoot spot-on at 150 yards, but to the left at 200. I learned about all the wildlife management that goes into running a lodge, and that Namibia is much more progressive in sustainable trophy hunting than we are in the United States, in wildlife conservation, and in banning the use of hormones in livestock. I also had the unbelievable opportunity to see some of Africa’s amazing animals in the wild. I will never forget the experience of hunting in Africa and meeting some of the amazing and gracious people of Namibia.
My dad may not have taken me hunting when I was young, but thanks to Randy, I finally got to go. Hunting is still predominantly a male sport, but many men are taking their wives, daughters, and girlfriends. More and more women are becoming successful huntresses. Even though I grew up in a time and place where daughters did not hunt, things have changed. If my father were still here, I know that he would be proud of me.
The Old Hunter
I first met Hannes and Geraldine at a Portland, Oregon sportsman show many years ago. They are very nice people with a beautiful lodge, hunting area, and great animals.
Having hunted Zimbabwe a couple of other times, I was ready for a change in scenery and an opportunity for different animals. An added experience would be taking my girlfriend, Kelly, on the hunt with me, not only as a spectator, but as a hunter. Kelly had never been to Africa, so I knew that it would be quite an experience, regardless of the outcome.
We were welcomed at the Windhoek airport by Hannes. It was nice to see a friendly and known face waiting for us. It was an hour’s trip to the lodge, and I made good use of it with lots of questions for Hannes. The lodge and grounds were beautiful, and the lodge was filled with impressive game heads. We were the only guests, so the focus was on our hunt.
We were tired from our travels, but we went to sight in the rifles that evening. I had decided not to bring my personal rifles with me. It isn’t easy traveling with rifles anymore, and the headache and hassle just wasn’t worth it. Being left handed, it didn’t bother me to use their right-handed guns. They used suppressors on all their guns and I was very surprised, not only with the sound suppression, but the minimal recoil that they also produced. Shooting a 7mm mag and .270 with no recoil made me a believer. I plan on buying myself a suppressor one day. It was nice, especially for Kelly. She shot well at the range, so we were ready for the morning hunt. Our PH was Stephan Joubert, a very knowledgeable and adept young man who has acquired the “Dangerous Game” accreditation.
That night, I was amazed to learn that Hannes has twenty-five different species of animals. He even does DNA testing for wildlife management and uses solar and up-to-date technology. No wonder that he was awarded Game Rancher of the Year Namibia (2017) and Game Rancher of the Year, Green Economy, in Southern Africa. Quite an honor and very well deserved.
So, how did Kelly do? In one word—Great! She was in awe. She truly didn’t care about taking animals as much as taking in the whole experience. Men seem to have more of an “I have to harvest “ approach in order to have a great hunt. Believe me, I understand that, but at sixty-four years of age, I understand that there is so much more to the hunt. For me, it was to see Kelly have a great experience as well as the opportunity to hunt. My plan was for her to take four or five animals. Well, she went on to take eight fantastic animals. I ended up taking ten that were all gold medal, I believe. From what I heard, my lechwe will be # 1 in the NAPHA top ten record book, the roan, possibly #12 and a 45-inch fantastic sable. I also took a black wildebeest, hartebeest, mountain zebra stallion, springbok, blesbok, and a steenbok.
To say the least, it was a memorable hunt with great variety of animals. The spotters and trackers, the care of the animals after harvest, the lodge—as well as the generosity, integrity, and friendship of Hannes and Geraldine were second to none. Kelly and I both came away as lifelong friends. It was the memory of a lifetime for us. That is one of the reasons I have booked to go back in 2020 for some of the species I don’t have. I will take my daughter with me next time in order to create some more memories with her.[/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”orange” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fspring-2019%2F%23spring-2019%2F116-117||target:%20_blank|”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_gallery type=”image_grid” images=”19654,19655,19656,19657,19658″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
Jan 15, 2019 | Bowhunting, News
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”orange” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fspring-2019%2F%23spring-2019%2F52-53||target:%20_blank|”][vc_column_text]Up Close and Personal in the Limpopo
By Joe Gray Taylor, Jr.
The morning had begun like many hunts for Cape buffalo anywhere. Our hunting team cruised traces cut through the thick jesse in the early morning cold looking for fresh tracks that may have crossed during the night or early morning. Our sharp-eyed tracker, Josias, naturally saw them first, and immediately my PH and outfitter Phillip Bronkhorst, and the rest of us – assistant PH Pieter Taylor, and a young videographer, Rickey – bailed off the cruiser to study them in detail.
The extremely fresh sign indicated a small group had just crossed, no doubt drifting into the very thick thorn brush for a rest, or to find their way to water. A particularly large set of prints indicated the likely presence of at least one mature bull. We carefully trailed the group for no more than a kilometre, when a breath of the fickle morning wind touched the back of my neck. As dust rose above the brush, large animals could be heard running off in the distance.
We had all started to relax and consider our next move when Josias suddenly knelt to one side pointing into the bush. Looking up, I could see just bits of an approaching black mass coming directly up our scent line. Josias moved behind us and, leveling rifles, we began to back up, hoping the bull would eventually break away. As we backed across a very small open patch in the jesse, a young, but mature buffalo, burst forth on the far side perhaps 35 metres away. He halted, head up, belligerently staring at us. With a lot of shouting, we slowly backed away, eventually breaking contact. On his first DG hunt, our young videographer provided a marvelously rich and descriptive commentary as we made our way back to the Land Cruiser.
It was something of an accident that I was hunting buffalo at all in South Africa. Previously, I had the privilege to hunt them in the Caprivi and twice in Mozambique. I had expected my next buffalo hunt would have been in Zimbabwe or Zambia. However, two years previously I was sitting at a banquet table at the annual Central Texas Wildlife Legacy gala in Austin. My table mate was Phillip Bronkhorst, and he had donated a cow buffalo hunt to our organization for the evening auction. As it came up, I happened to ask Phillip if the hunt could be upgraded to a bull at the usual trophy rate. It could. He also said that these were managed herds, not purchased and released animals. I have rarely bid on an auctioned hunt, much preferring the comfort of some research. However, on this evening, the hunt had no bidders, and rather than let a generous donation to our organization go wanting, I raised my hand. We sealed the deal with a handshake, and late June found me departing Austin, Texas to link up with the SAA flight to Johannesburg at Washington, Dulles.
Sited on his own property, Phillip’s lovely and very comfortable camp is in the Northern Limpopo some five hours from the Johannesburg airport. It offers easy access to a number of ranches in the area offering a wide variety of game and covering a huge range of biodiversity from sandveld, through bushveld, to the Waterberg. We would be hunting on Rudy Heinlein’s vast “Circle N” property in the heart of the bushveld near the Limpopo River.
I had hunted high-fenced property with Jamy Traut when he was with Eden in Namibia almost a decade before. Therefore, I knew large properties with self-sustaining herds could offer an outstanding hunting experience. However, my only buffalo hunting had been in wilderness areas. I was curious about hunting the big black bulls on one of the Limpopo’s huge fenced concessions, but after the first abortive effort and the belligerent youngster, any concerns were quickly fading.
Late morning found us many kilometres away, the morning coolness having given away to the dry warmth of a typical southern African late fall day. We had found additional tracks crossing the roads and around waterholes, but nothing quite fresh enough to take up pursuit. Suddenly Josias tapped my forearm and the top of the cruiser – an electric moment everyone recognizes who has experienced an African Safari. As we halted we could pick up several dark shapes moving slowly but steadily through the thick thorn bush. In moments they had disappeared.
A quick look at the tracks indicated a couple of large bulls in a small group of animals. We immediately took up the spoor. Phillip was convinced they were heading to water, and we possibly might catch them in the open ground around the pan. Like all ethical outfits, Phillip would not allow us to attempt a shot there, but with a bit of luck we would have the opportunity to clearly evaluate the animals.
We followed at a forced march over the next four to five kilometres. A walking buffalo can set a blistering pace compared with humans, particularly those constantly monitoring wind and thorns, As the sweat worked into my eyes, I noted that two or three miles sprinting after buffalo felt pretty much the same whether along the Zambezi, the Kwando, or Limpopo Rivers.
The breeze had settled for a bit, and we were able to carefully maneuver around one side of the group of bulls. We could see eight animals ranging from three or four years of age to a couple of large bulls clearly pushing eleven or twelve. One of these was very wide (40+) with fairly flat curls and bosses, while the other was a bit narrower but with the massive helmet that some older bulls develop. Either was a very respectable candidate to take back to Texas. I should note that we had no limitations on the size of the bull that we could take. However, the goal was at least an eleven- or twelve-year-old animal.
We backed out and found a shady tree where we could unpack the cooler for some lunch and water – we would take up the track again once the animals had left the waterhole. I said to Phillip that both bulls were fabulous, but given a choice, the wider flatter one looked awfully good. Little did I know at the time, another might have a vote in that decision.
Around 2 p.m. we were again on their track, and by 3:30 we had closed to where we could see the animals bunched in a large group in the thickest brush. They had apparently joined another group, bringing the total number now to 15 or 20. Sorting out “my bull” was going to be tricky. The late fall light was also telling us we only had so much time.
We had just begun to probe the brush, when again we felt the light breeze touching the backs of our necks. Immediately the main herd began to move off, and in a replay of the morning, a large shape detached itself and began moving purposefully up our scent line. We carefully tried to back away, but our options were limited. Getting into brush so thick that we could only see a few feet would be asking for real trouble.
Fortunately, at about 50 yards, Phillip could see it was the old bull with the huge boss. With our backs to thick thorn we would not be given a choice. He finally set the sticks and whispered “Joe, this is your bull!” At 25 – 30 metres the buffalo’s head and chest cleared for an instant. The Blaser R8 was steady as I hit him with a 300-gr Swift A-Frame, loaded by my friend Lance Hendershot with his “Extreme” line of custom ammunition. The bull staggered off approximately 60 metres, giving me a rear quartering shot which put him down. Although sad, it was a relief to hear the mournful bellow. It seemed as though the big-bossed bull had, in fact, chosen me.
However, we were not quite done. As Pieter headed out for the truck, the death bellow caused the original bachelor group to break off from the larger herd and return. Phillip and I backed carefully away while Josias and Rickey scrambled up a nearby tree. For the next half hour or so, we watched the incredible sight of half a dozen bulls violently hooking their fallen comrade. It was a behavior about which I had read, but never seen. Then the arrival of the truck scared off the other animals, so we were able to take a few pictures in the late afternoon light, and load our massive old prize for the drive back to camp.
On the way back, I relived the long day and mused about both my preconceptions and the actual hunting experience. I shall always love the wild places and I hope I can again pursue the truly wild buffalo herds that inhabit them. However, I had just taken part in an incredibly exciting buffalo hunt in the Limpopo, far and away the most adrenalin-packed in my experience. Although the animals we had pursued had been born on the vast property we hunted, their behavior showed that they were still the big, truculent beasts they are by nature – we could have been in any wild place in Africa. I have no hesitation recommending the experience to anyone.
With the big bull down early in the hunt, the remainder of my time in the Limpopo passed almost lazily. We hunted the beautiful Porini Ranch in the foothills of the Waterberg trying to better a pair of 55-inch kudu I had taken in Namibia several years before. Despite the arrival of extremely cold and blustery weather, and a nearly full moon, we saw wonderful bulls every day.
At least a half-dozen mature animals were easily over 50 inches; magnificent choices at any other time. On the third day we glimpsed a huge bull from the Cruiser that we felt would have surpassed our self-imposed minimum, but were unable to regain sight of it once we entered the thick brush where most seemed to be hiding from the cold wind.
Another day, we decided to ease down a thickly wooded, spring-fed stream with towering ridges on either side. A pair of klipspringers eyed us suspiciously from less than 50 metres away, their beautifully marked ears flared in our direction. Leopard tracks covered the ground, and although one particularly large set looked like they could have had been left by a lioness, they would have been from one of the huge male leopards often found in the Limpopo. Scattered bones all along the streambed bore mute witness to the richness of their hunting area.
As noon approached, a dry rustling and the sour pungent odor of pig alerted us to the presence of a bushpig sounder somewhere in the brush immediately ahead of us. We carefully maneuvered around and through the green tangle trying to get a glimpse of the rooting animals. Suddenly, Phillip paused and pointed ahead and to the side. On the opposite bank of the stream, quartering sharply away stood the largest boar that I had ever seen. In this instance, speed was far more important than pinpoint accuracy, and we made no attempt to set the sticks. The Blaser barked and the animal collapsed where he stood.
A wise bit of guidance about safari, says to take what Africa gives. We had not found the kudu we sought, but we had been given at high noon a giant of a bushpig, a far rarer, and to me at least, desirable achievement.
In the ensuing days, we successfully stalked an impala and a beautiful zebra. We capped our last morning with South Africa’s iconic black wildebeest. A careful stalk on a typically nervous herd gained us a 150-metre shot at a truly magnificent old bull. I have no doubt that he would score very highly in either SCI or Rowland and Ward’s system.
All too soon, the hunt was over. On the long flight home, I replayed the extraordinary experience time and again. I look forward to continuing to relive those adventures in the years to come. Phillip is a fine a gentleman, a passionate a hunter and a great conservationist. Whether a general mixed plains-game hunt, a buffalo hunt without the usual logistics drama of Zimbabwe or Mozambique, or a specialty hunt for night creatures, this outfitter should be on anyone’s shortlist of potential destinations. It certainly will remain on mine.[/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”orange” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fspring-2019%2F%23spring-2019%2F52-53||target:%20_blank|”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_gallery type=”image_grid” images=”19621,19622,19623,19624,19625,19626,19627,19628,19629,19630,19631,19632,19633,19634,19635″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
Jan 15, 2019 | News
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”orange” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fspring-2019%2F%23spring-2019%2F136-137||target:%20_blank|”][vc_column_text]A HUNTER’S RIFLE
Johan van Wyk
If ever there was a hall of fame for famous African hunters, the first entry would no doubt be the name of Frederick Courteney Selous. Selous was born in London in 1851, and first arrived on African shores as a 19-year-old, in South Africa, intent on making a name for himself as a hunter of big game. At the time, muzzle-loading rifles were still the primary weapon of choice for the hunter in search of dangerous game, and Selous used various muzzle-loading big-bore rifles on beasts big and small, although he complained bitterly about their excessive recoil and claimed that they made him recoil-shy for the rest of his life.
The 1870s saw the start of the breech-loading era, however, and Selous was quick to grasp the advantage offered by the newer technology firearms then being developed by various British makers. He quickly built up a good relationship with George Gibbs of Bristol, one of the premier riflemakers in Britain at the time, especially renowned for their accurate match rifles. The Gibbs-Farquharson falling-block single-shot action (a joint development by Gibbs and Scottish gamekeeper John Farquharson) was initially developed for military and target shooting purposes, but it didn’t take long for the sporting potential of the action to be recognised, and it was quickly made up in sporting rifles and later chambered as well for a host of Nitro cartridges such as the .303 British and .256 Gibbs Flanged (or 6,5x53R, if you prefer). Selous, however, ordered his Gibbs-Farquharsons in a proprietary Gibbs chambering: the .461 Gibbs No 2.
Both the No 1 and No 2 versions of the .461 Gibbs cartridge were initially developed for target shooting, and used heavy, paper-patched bullets that gave good accuracy from the Metford rifling in the bores of the Gibbs-Farquharson rifles. The .461 No 1 fired a 540-grain bullet at 1 300 fps with the help of 75 grains of black powder. The slightly later No 2 version of the .461 was introduced in the late 1870s and was created by lengthening the neck of the cartridge to make space for a heavier 570-grain bullet and 90 grains of black powder. Bullet diameter for both versions of the .461 was identical. The ballistic performance of both was broadly similar to the .577/450 Martini-Henry cartridge, the British military cartridge of the day.
Gibbs no doubt derived great publicity and enjoyed increased sales as a result of Selous’ writings. For some reason Selous referred to his beloved falling-block hunting rifles as a “.450” on several occasions, notably in A Hunter’s Wanderings in Africa which was published in 1882. The Gibbs rifle plays such a central part in the recounting of Selous’ adventures, however, that the reader is left in no doubt that a Gibbs falling-block rifle was the weapon of choice for anybody wishing to indulge in a bit of sport in Africa. Selous used a number of Gibbs .461 rifles throughout his travels in what is today Zimbabwe, and the effectiveness of both rifle and cartridge no doubt played a big part in his hunting success.
With the advent of the Nitro era and a host of more efficient and powerful cartridges, the .461 slowly disappeared from the scene to be replaced by more modern contenders. Likewise was the case with the great old British falling-block single-shot rifles; they were effectively killed off by the readily available and reasonably priced M98 Mauser bolt-action. Selous himself also eventually discarded the single-shot rifle for the bolt-action, and towards the end of his hunting days used cartridges such as the .425 Westley Richards and .275 Holland&Holland Magnum. The much-lamented falling-blocks were to a large extent relegated to the safes of collectors and die-hards.
Probably as a result of the writings of Selous (and in spite of the fact that less than a thousand Gibbs-Farquharson rifles were ever made), the odd Gibbs-Farquharson .461 pops up here in Africa from time to time. If memory serves, I have seen half a dozen or so, including a very rare double on a Gibbs & Pitt action. Some were engraved, others not. One was even a very early example with an external cocking arm which resembles a hammer. Another example was fitted with what is known as Selous sideplates. Selous sideplates are often attributed to Selous himself, and certainly his own Gibbs-Farquharsons were fitted with them, but whether he actually had a hand in designing them is unknown. The sideplates themselves are made from sheet steel and are a skin-tight fit on both sides of the grip, extending all the way from the action body, contoured to the wrist and pistol grip of the stock. They are held in place by means of dozens of small screws, and on the example I have seen, these little screws were neatly aligned. The amount of work that must have gone into shaping and fitting a pair of Selous sideplates is truly staggering.
A friend of mine who also happens to be a keen collector of vintage British guns and rifles is the lucky owner of a near-mint Gibbs-Farquharson chambered for the .461 No 2 cartridge. The rifle itself spent many years on display in a gunshop here in South Africa, unfired and unmolested as a result of the fact that .461 ammunition has for long been but a distant memory. When the gunshop changed hands the new owners decided to sell the old Gibbs, and my friend did what was necessary to put the rifle in his collection, where it now resides in the company of a number of pristine examples of some of the finest firearms ever made. Another Gibbs .461 spent many years on display in the public library of a small town in South Africa, simply gathering dust as it hung from the wall on a set of rusty nails. When the powers-that-be decided to demolish the library, the rifle was destined to be destroyed until a gunsmith who recognised it for what it was saved it. It is fitted with Selous side-plates and is a treasure by any yardstick.
Being a practical sort of fellow, however, my friend soon turned his attention to getting the old Gibbs shooting again, and thus kicked off a practical doctorate thesis in handloading. The first order of business was to determine the exact bore diameter, and for this purpose a soft copper plug was gently squeezed through the barrel from the breech end. Next up was a set of reloading dies from the United States, and here Hunting Die Specialties were glad to oblige. Cases for the .461 No 2 are made by Bertram in Australia, and Bruce Bertram had a package in the mail in no time.
As the original ammunition was loaded with paper-patched bullets, the next step was not as simple as just having a mold made that would turn out .461” diameter lead bullets. The reason for this is that a lot of further research revealed the fact that Gibbs preferred the bullets to be slightly undersized in order to allow them to “bump up” to the bore diameter to ensure a snug fit. This was done for the sake of better accuracy, and is a perfectly safe and acceptable way to go about things with a soft lead bullet. Thus, a mold that turned out a round-nosed 570-grain lead slug of .458” diameter was ordered from a South African mold maker. Next step was paper-patching the bullets to ensure a tight fit in the mouth of the case and the shallow Metford rifling. This is a time-consuming process calling for more than just a little bit of skill by the patcher, but my friend eventually mastered the art, and the first batch of paper-patched, lubed bullets were, apart for a few last details, at long last ready for Bruce Bertram’s cases.
With a case capacity slightly greater than that of the .458 Winchester Magnum, it was logical to use a Magnum primer to load the .461 No 2, and as black powder can sometimes be a pain to obtain here in South Africa, a Nitro-for-black load was the obvious way forward, but this route presented challenges of its own as well. Those of us who reload here at the southern tip of the African continent sometimes have to do with what we can get, so the only sensible choice left was a South African propellant called S265, a close copy of the US-made IMR-4227, a fast-burning propellant normally used for loading handgun cartridges but usable for loads with cast bullets in some rifle cartridges as well. With the propellant selected, a prodigious amount of experimentation ensued to arrive at a load, but with this done, along with a handful of Dacron filler to ensure that the air gap between the base of the bullet and the powder charge was tightly filled, the old Gibbs and its owner set off to the shooting range with an air of nervous expectation.
To make a long story short, it wasn’t long before the Gibbs-Farquharson shot the way it was supposed to. What was also apparent was that Gibbs itself certainly deserved their reputation as a maker of fine rifles. The old rifle with its newly constituted loads shot right on the sights, and getting nice and tight groups with the wide-V backsight and the tiny bead up-front was a relatively simple matter.
A great many hunters over the years cut their hunting teeth on the .577/450 Martini-Henry rifle in Africa and, with its virtually similar ballistics, the .461 was in the same league – certainly a useful starting point from a ballistic point of view. Due to cost, however, the Gibbs would probably have been the choice of the better-heeled sportsmen of the day who could afford something slightly more upmarket than a military-surplus Martini-Henry carbine. Whereas the Gibbs rifle and cartridge is synonymous with Selous, another interesting character who also used one was Dr Leander Starr Jameson, leader of the ill-fated Jameson Raid into the Transvaal in 1896 and confidant of Cecil John Rhodes. During the course of an expedition down the Pungwe River in Mozambique in 1890, accompanied by his co-explorer and friend Frank Johnson, Jameson, managed to set fire to a grass hut they were sleeping in.
As the dry grass caught alight, in a frenzy they had to grab what they could and run for their lives. Ahead of them lay a very treacherous journey through some of the wildest country Africa had to offer, to reach a rendezvous with a ship called the Lady May that would wait for them at anchor at the mouth of the Pungwe River. They made it with mere minutes to spare and scrambled aboard as the ship was about to cast off. Interestingly enough, Johnson later recalled that among the possessions salvaged from the fire were a rifle and bandolier and 26 Gibbs-Metford .450 cartridges. It was undoubtedly a Gibbs-Farquharson .461 rifle of sorts. As Selous himself was active in Rhodesia at the time, it is probably a fair assumption that he was consulted on the question of suitable armament by Jameson and Johnson before the onset of their trip.
After going through the immense trouble of getting his own .461 No 2 shooting again, my friend decided that a hunting trip with the Gibbs in hand was a fitting finale to the saga. With a number of carefully assembled cartridges, he traveled to a remote farm in South Africa’s Limpopo Province. He set off with the old rifle balanced over his shoulder, in much the same fashion as Selous would have done more than a century ago in the untamed country to the north of where my friend was hunting. Soon, a suitable quarry in the form of a blue wildebeest bull showed itself, and with the bead of the foresight low on the animal’s shoulder, 570 grains of what used to be wheel weights were sent on its way.
At the shot, something strange happened. The bull he had aimed at was down in its tracks, pole-axed. Behind him, though, lay another hitherto unseen wildebeest, also down and out for the count! The solid lead bullet had killed two of the toughest antelope Africa has to offer, cleanly, with one shot, and the bullet was found under the skin on the far side of the second wildebeest. It was slightly deformed, but with that type of performance, even if wholly unintentional, any doubts about a lack of penetration was certainly laid to rest in a clearing in the bush by the accidental death of a wildebeest.
I suspect that it was this same quality that endeared the Gibbs-Farquharson and the .461 No 2 cartridge to Selous as well. The rifles were very well made, shot straight, and got the job done with a minimum of fuss: essential qualities for a hunter’s rifle.[/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”orange” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fspring-2019%2F%23spring-2019%2F136-137||target:%20_blank|”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_gallery type=”image_grid” images=”19722,19723,19724,19725,19726″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
Jan 12, 2019 | Bowhunting, News
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”orange” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fspring-2019%2F%23spring-2019%2F98-99||target:%20_blank|”][vc_column_text]Bow, Arrow, and a Rooiribbok
By Frank Berbuir
It is end of August and I am lucky to be back again in South Africa to hunt with bow and arrow with my PH Izak Vos from Vos Safaris. After several successful previous hunts there on a variety of species, this time a mountain and a common reedbuck are on the bucket list.
We are on a nice farm, managed by a lovely couple, on the border of the North West Province close to the Limpopo Province. We are familiar with our small hunting camp – our jagkamp – from a former trip. The landscape and scenery along the Crocodile River is stunning. There are some challenging and very rocky mountains as well as dense bush and open plains, and we try our luck on stalking in these mountains. However, because of the sharp rocks and high grass everywhere, it is not only difficult and noisy, but also risky – falling on these sharp-edged stones or twisting one´s ankle is not what we need.
In Africa everything is defending itself! Every bush and tree has thorns, the stones are jagged and sharp, and even the grass sometimes has barbs. So we have decided to sit in a pop-up blind close to a natural waterhole and salt lick block. Izak, an experienced PH, chose this location because of the many mountain reedbuck tracks found there.
Our day starts with a morning walk to the blind. Mountain reedbuck roam during the day, so we need not start while it is still dark. Although August is the South African winter, the temperature is comfortable and the rising sun is always a magnificent spectacle and a nice warm up. As the pop-up blind is a very tiny one, there is no chance to put two chairs into it.
I sit on a small cooler box so that I am able to maneuver my bow into different shooting positions. Our blind gradually warms up as the sun shines on it. For about three hours nothing happens, except for some doves and francolins flying around. Then during the heat of the day, an ugly old baboon creeps out of the bushes, walks slowly to the salt lick, looking in our direction. Now we have to be quiet and motionless, otherwise the day is done if he realizes we are there and starts to bark an alarm. He stares at our blind, but after a minute he sits down beside the salt lick, looking away. He picks up salt which he seems to be enjoying, and nibbles on some grass. A couple of minutes later he changes his position, in the process displaying his unpleasant rear end before he sits down again, his back to us. He seems unconcerned and relaxed. But while he is sitting there, not even doves or francolins show up anymore. Finally, after half an hour he leaves, walking just five meters from our blind without noticing that we are there – unbelievable.
Then it went quiet again for a long afternoon. At about five o´clock we crawl out of the tent and walk back to our camp with the delightful expectation of an ice-cold beer and a tasty braai.
On day two it is more or less the same set-up, except the baboon does not show up. Where are the reedbucks and other animals, we ask ourselves. We see the tracks of eland, kudu, blue wildebeest, klipspringer and mountain reedbuck around the waterhole and salt lick, but are they coming before sunrise or very shortly before dark? However, the barbecue and a brandy-and-Coke this evening around the campfire is a reward after for a long day.
It is day three when we are sitting in the blind quite early, directly after sunrise, and it is a bit crisp from the wind blowing down from the mountains. Probably that is why the game is not moving, and it is dead quiet the whole morning. Around noon the wind drops, the day heats up again, and two kudu females sneak in to the salt lick. Later, a small warthog strolls by past the waterhole. It livens the scene to see them unperturbed, especially when they don’t realize that we are so close, only 20 meters away. But we are a little disappointed – we keep wondering where the mountain reedbucks are, particularly as they are dependent on water and also like the salt.
It is early afternoon and I have my head in the clouds, when Izak nudges me and points to the right of our blind. A group of six mountain reedbuck approach! Three females, two adolescents and a big ram are coming closer. The adrenaline rush is back, and the heart beat increases. The reedbuck walk slowly, continually checking the area to the salt lick. The ram stands apart behind a bush, concealed and cautious. He does not move, does not come closer – not at all – and there is no chance for a shot, not even with a rifle. About 15 minutes later the other reedbuck are finished at the water and salt lick, and walk slowly back to him before they all leave, running up the mountain. Smart buck, but a pity for us. With a deep-drawn sigh we decide to finish for the day.
On day four it is more of the same: We sit in our tiny blind with a lot of hope. It is rather like an unvaried daily routine, but you need to think positively, and sometimes you need to continue doing what you are doing to finally be successful. No pain, no gain.
Finally the goddess of hunting favors us when, at half past three, this time a group of four mountain reedbuck approach with three females and a good ram. Time to beard the lion in his den! The ram comes to the salt lick with the others. It’s now or never. To say I am excited is an understatement. Slowly I pull the bow, and slowly I maneuver to the shooting window. The reedbuck is standing to my left, licking on the salt. The pin of the sight is focused on the vitals of the ram, but a female is still standing behind him.
“Stay calm and focused,” I mumble to myself. Finally, after seconds that felt like eternity, she moves and he is standing clear. With a slight tap on the trigger of my release, the arrow is on its deadly mission, and within a split second flies into and through the antelope, and lands on the ground. The ram flinches and falls. What an extraordinary performance again of bow and arrow.
Overwhelmed and more than happy with this awesome trophy animal, Izak and I kneel next to him, and after a few minutes of silence in respect, we arrange the ram for some pictures. Back at our camp the “Happy Hour” beer tastes excellent. Fortunately, three days later we also take a common reedbuck, but that is a different story.
Once again I had a tremendously good hunt with unforgettable impressions and memories, with my friend and PH Izak Vos from Vos Safaris in South Africa.
Shoot straight, take care, and always good hunting – “Waidmannsheil” and “Alles van die beste.”
[/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”orange” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fspring-2019%2F%23spring-2019%2F98-99||target:%20_blank|”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_gallery type=”image_grid” images=”19611,19612,19614,19615″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
Jan 12, 2019 | News
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”orange” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fspring-2019%2F%23spring-2019%2F128-129||target:%20_blank|”][vc_column_text]PH Stephan Joubert UK’s loss – Namibia’s gain!
African Hunting Gazette: Tell us when and where you were born and about your family.
Stephan Joubert: I was born in Bethlehem, in the Free State, South Africa, in 1990. I am one of four children – I have three sisters. As a family we moved to the UK, in 1999, and lived in The Royal County of Berkshire. I finished my education at Hartpury College UWE, where I studied Conservation Countryside Management / Game. Then I returned to my African roots here in Namibia in 2012.
AHG: What made you want to become a PH?
SJ: Growing up in the UK, my dreams of becoming an African PH, initially dwindled. However, I was fortunate enough to have plenty of family in Namibia whom I could visit, and that very much kept my dream alive! Thanks to numerous visits to Namibia, to my uncle and cousins in the Kalahari, I have had ample exposure to hunt in Africa.
AHG: Which countries have you hunted and where are you hunting these days?
SJ: I have had the opportunity to hunt in South Africa, England, New Zealand, USA, Canada, and of course the wonderful Namibia! It is here that I am now pursuing my professional hunting career!
AHG: If you could return to any time or place in Africa, where would it be?
SJ: The early 1900s, when a 21-day safari was not uncommon. I could only imagine how much one could see, learn and experience on such a safari in Tanzania or Zambia.
AHG: Which guns and ammo are you using to back-up on dangerous game?
SJ: I would use my .375 H&H CZ 550 Safari Classic with 300-gr Barns TSX for dangerous game, whereas for plains game I normally use a .300 Win.Mag. coupled with 180-gr Sierra Game King bullets. This is a very suitable round for our area as it is a hard-hitting, flat-shooting round!
AHG: What are you recommendations on guns and ammo for dangerous game and plains game?
SJ: For dangerous game, I would say a .375 H&H with 300-gr bullets, because with the low recoil, the client can put the bullet where it needs to be – or anything of this caliber and bigger that the client is comfortable with. My recommendation for plains game would be any of the .30 calibers with a 180-gr bullet.
AHG: What was you closest brush with death?
SJ: I would say that if anything, my closest encounter was the day a Black Mamba and I crossed paths. However, I have a great respect for snakes, and I let him be. So we separated with no harm done – just my heart beating a lot faster!
AHG: Looking back, is there anything you would have done differently?
SJ: I wouldn’t say I would do anything differently, otherwise I wouldn’t have done it in the first place!
Just keep your wits about you and expect the unexpected!
AHG: How has the hunting industry and its clients changed over the years?
SJ: I wouldn’t say the hunting industry has changed too much since I have been a part of it. Perhaps the only thing that I have noticed is that clients have less time to commit to hunting safaris. In the world we live in everyone has such busy lives with little free time to spend how they wish. In general, safaris have become shorter.
AHG: Which qualities go into making a successful PH and/or hunting company?
SJ: In order to be a successful hunting company you need a good team, from your trackers to skinners to kitchen staff. They all play an essential role to ensure the whole safari runs smoothly. A PH should be an open-minded, friendly character, a real people person who is able to connect with clients. As well as that, having an excellent knowledge of his or her surroundings is an absolute must. He also needs to be honest with his clients, passionate about what he does, and enjoy himself!
AHG: And which qualities go into making a good safari client?
SJ: A good safari client would be a person willing to experience new things, willing to listen and learn from his or her PH. It’s also great if they have practiced shooting from sticks at home, and know their shot placement. And finally, as they say, “You don’t guide a guide and you don’t coach a coach!”
AHG: If you could offer a suggestion to a hunting client to improve the quality of their safari, what would it be?
SJ: You must be willing to listen and learn from your PH/ Outfitter to trust their opinion. By building a relationship with them you will gain knowledge and enjoy the overall experience a lot more than if you don’t. It’s also great to come to Africa with an open mind and enjoy every moment. It’s also really helpful to get yourself ready before the hunt by practicing shooting from the sticks, and have some knowledge of the animals you’d be after.
AHG: What can the hunting industry do to contribute to the long-term conservation of Africa’s wildlife?
SJ: I think we regularly hear about this. Trophy hunting truly has helped and will continue doing so for many years because of the funding it generates for conservation. We as trophy hunters are, in fact, more conservationists – without trophy hunting, our wildlife would be worthless and the numbers would drop rapidly! For example look at countries that have banned hunting, and compare their wildlife populations with Namibia or South Africa! Adding value to the wild animals has really help to conserve them!
AHG: Anyone you would want to thank who has played a major role in your lie?
SJ: There are many people I would like to thank for many different reasons. I would like to thank my mother and father for supporting me with my decision to go into the industry, and also those that believed in me and for all their encouragement. Also, the people I have met along the way who pointed me in the right direction and helped with many different aspects, and who gave me the opportunity to learn from them. I would very much like to thank our clients, for without them we wouldn’t be able to do what we love! I am grateful to our dear Lord for the incredible nature surrounding us, and for giving me the opportunity to do what I am passionate about and enjoy doing.
AHG: Any last words of wisdom?
SJ: Enjoy doing what you love. Be safe!
AHG: Would you write a story for us one day?
SJ: I would love to write a hunting story in the not too distant future, I’m still collecting memories which I would one day love to share!
AHG: We are waiting!
Stephan Joubert
22.03.1990[/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”orange” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fspring-2019%2F%23spring-2019%2F128-129||target:%20_blank|”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_gallery type=”image_grid” images=”19714,19715,19716,19717,19718″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
Jan 12, 2019 | News
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”orange” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fspring-2019%2F%23spring-2019%2F144-145||target:%20_blank|”][vc_column_text]Wayne van Zwoll
2610 Highland Drive
Bridgeport WA 98813
File name: AHGnewton18
Newton in Africa
Brilliance couldn’t trump his bad luck. But a century later Newton’s rifle excelled on safari!
On his first safari, he carried a Remington 30S and a Winchester 1895. Springbok and warthog, kudu and wildebeest collapsed to the sting of that .30-06 and .405.
Roosevelt comes to mind; but T.R.’s 1909 safari predated the Remington 30S. He paired his .405 Winchester ‘95 with a Springfield in .30-06. More than a century later, Barry Fisher had picked his rifles because … well, because he likes old rifles.
Me too. So last year I asked his Namibia-bound daughter Tamar if she’d use Barry’s .256 Newton on safari. I’d be in Jamy Traut’s Panorama camp then as well, and was keen to see it afield. Besides her Kimbers in .308 and .270, Tamar had a new Sako, a .270 scoped with a Zeiss 4-16x Conquest. “I won’t really need two rifles,” she said. “And Dad has only a few .256 factory rounds.”
“That’s precious ammo,” I agreed. “But I once had a .256 in the shop and loaded for it. Happy to share data if you can find brass. You can also make cases.”
“Oh, we have .256 empties…”
Lickety-split, I sent the data, followed by new, unlabeled ammo boxes. With her brother’s help, Tamar was soon pumping cases through dies at Barry’s bench. Cleverly, she duplicated the graphics on his one box of Western cartridges. Applied to fresh cardboard, her labels looked almost original!
The .256 was just one of Charles Newton’s developments. Based on black-powder and smokeless rounds, his WW I-era cartridges ranged from fast-stepping .22s to big-bores for the heaviest game. One shared feature: They were all ahead of their time.
Born in Delavan, New York, 8 January, 1870, Newton worked on the family farm until finishing school at age 16. After a couple of years teaching school, he studied law and joined the state bar. Then he left the practice of law. Six years in New York’s National Guard whetted his appetite to design cartridges using new smokeless powder. Gunmaker Fred Adolph would help with his early efforts to engineer rifles.
Smallest, but perhaps best known of Newton’s high-octane small-bores, was the .22 High-Power. A 1905 wildcat on the .25-35 case, it shoved 70-grain .228 bullets at 2,800 fps. The “Imp” was hailed for killing animals as formidable as tigers! Realistically, it inspired hunters to ponder shooting deer beyond the range limits imposed by iron sights and big blunt bullets.
In 1912 Newton necked the .30-06 to .257, forming the .25 Newton Special. While the .25-06 is commonly credited to Neidner, it could well have appeared on Newton’s bench first. His 7mm Special foreshadowed the .280 Remington by half a century – as did the 7×64 Brenneke developed in Germany. Also in 1912, Newton fashioned for Savage a short rimless .250 for the 1899 lever rifle. His 100-grain softpoint at 2,820 fps would live long in factory loads, but Savage promoted an 87-grain bullet at 3,000 fps, and called the cartridge the .250/3000. This fast .25 later became raw material for J.B. Smith, John Sweaney, Harvey Donaldson, Grosvenor Wotkyns and J.E. Gebby, all of whom necked it to .22. A 1937 version by Gebby and Smith became the .22-250. Remington began loading it in 1965.
Newton fashioned what may be one of the best .30 magnum ever. It was of clean rimless design, the 2.52-inch hull and 3.35 loaded length matching dimensions of short belted magnums that RoyWeatherby, then Winchester and Remington, would develop beginning in the 1940s. A powerhouse in 1913, the .30 Newton drove bullets as fast as the longer .300 H&H Magnum Western Cartridge would start loading in 1925. Likely it was inspired by the .404 Jeffery. A .35 Newton on the same case made its debut in 1915. Charles Newton played a role in introducing the .300 Savage, in 1920. A single-shot enthusiast, he also experimented with rimmed cases, from the Sharps 3¼” to the .405 Winchester.
“Dad urged me to take the Newton, so I’m packing two rifles.” Tamar’s e-mail included a photo of her new Sako with its 4-16x Zeiss. “That .270 will surely see most of the action, but I’ll bring enough .256 ammo for a few pokes at paper.” I salivated.
Tamar’s flight schedule took her to Windhoek, then Jamy Traut’s camp a few days early. She met me with a grin.
“I initiated the Newton on springbok!” She’d sneaked within iron-sight range of a ram and steadied the .256 on Jamy’s sticks. Centering the bead in the Williams aperture sight (the rifle’s only non-original feature), she’d sent a Hornady Spire Point through the shoulders, dropping the animal neatly.
Other hunters who had arrived with me were eager to get afield. So next morning after checking zeros, we jumped onto the Land Cruisers. My tryst with the Newton would have to wait.
“I got a wildebeest with the Newton!” We weren’t two days into the hunt before she gave me that update. “A lung shot. The bullet passed through!” Impressed with her shooting and with the performance of that small-bore round, I could tell the odds of her relinquishing the rifle, even briefly, were slipping. A rifle case on each shoulder next morning, she set out again.
Having shot her way through several safaris since her first with me several years earlier, Tamar had killed fine specimens of most common plains game, plus an outstanding waterbuck. So for the next couple of days she watched others in her Cruiser stalk and shoot. But eventually she got another chance to use the .256. “I bagged an impala with the Newton!” she gushed as my party, after hunting another sector, slunk in. We’d been beaten by gemsbok that stayed beyond scoped-rifle range!
The .256 Newton is an anomaly, in that it’s not a 25-caliber round as the numbers suggest (.250 bore, .257 groove diameter). Instead, it uses 6.5mm (.264) bullets. Its inventor was no doubt influenced by the popularity of 6.5mm rifles in both arsenals and game fields at that time.
Explorer Frederick Courteney Selous and the celebrated hunter W.D.M. Bell reportedly used the 6.5×54 Mannlicher-Schoenauer on Africa’s biggest animals. Its long solid bullets penetrated elephant skulls. Charles Sheldon also liked the 6.5×54. In Alaska he found it adequate for brown bears, sheep and moose. The flat arcs of mid-weight spitzer bullets – and trim, fetching Mannlicher-Schoenauer carbines so chambered – were a hit in open country.
Oddly enough, in Newton’s U.S. homeland, no 6.5mm hunting cartridge would enjoy the favor lavished on .30s or the .270. That drought would last until the 2009 debut of the 6.5 Creedmoor.
Developed at Hornady in Dave Emary’s shop, the 6.5 Creedmoor was named after Creed’s Farm in New York, birthplace of long-range rifle matches in the U.S. Rather than use Winchester’s .308 case, Dave chose the shorter .30 T/C, whose neck kept long pointed bullets within the limits imposed by short magazines. Mild recoil endears this 6.5 to hunters and long-range target shooters alike. Sales have jetted past those of popular magnums.
But ballistically, the Creedmoor has nothing on the .256 Newton when it’s blessed with modern powders and bullets. My turn with Barry’s rifle came the final evening of our safari, as Tamar shoved it into my hands and Jamy said the larder could use a wildebeest cow. A red-planked sunset and a south wind sent me through low bush, scooting along the hem of a herd moving briskly north. I tried to stay up with the leaders. Alas, the animals were stringing out in grass that offered scant cover.
Wind or movement? I couldn’t tell which had alerted them. But the bull’s snort told me this frolic would soon end. I bellied into thorn whose branches hid me but also prevented a shot. Through the tight lattice, I saw other wildebeest stop feeding. Several eased forward to follow the bull’s stare. I crabbed to the side by inches, the Newton’s barrel bobbing gently.
There. A slot. The muzzle slid forward, the bead quivered just inside the shoulder of a cow quartering to. “Crrrack!” An audible strike followed, but I lay still until dust settled in the herd’s wake. The trail was short and bright; the cow had died quickly. I knelt and gave thanks, as is my habit.
Newton had long dreamed of building his own rifles when in 1914 he formed the Newton Arms Company in Buffalo, New York. With a factory under construction, he traveled to Germany to secure a supply of rifle actions from Mauser and J.P. Sauer & Sohn. Alas, his timing could not have been worse! The first two dozen Mauser rifles were to arrive 15 August, 1914 – Germany went to war on the 14th. He turned to Marlin Firearms for barrels bored to .256 Newton and threaded for Springfield actions. Then, with famed barrel-maker Harry Pope in his shop, he designed his own action. It appeared 1 January, 1917.
But again Newton’s timing was off. The U.S. entered the war in April, and the government took control of all cartridge production. While the Newton Arms Company loaded its own ammunition, it bought cases from Remington, which now couldn’t supply them. Without cartridges, Newton rifles lost their market.
The dogged Newton started other enterprises. Despite his brilliant rifle and cartridge designs, all failed. In ’29 the Buffalo Newton Rifle Corporation folded. Later that year Wall Street collapsed, dashing the dreams of a nation. Newton died in New Haven, Connecticut, 9 March, 1932. He was 62.
Surely, Charles Newton’s high-performance cartridges paved the path for the post-WW II debut of short belted magnums. A generation before Roy Weatherby, Newton loaded long-range game bullets to over 3,100 fps. His rifles’ interrupted-thread lock-up predated Weatherby’s Mark V rifle by 30 years. His three-position safety appeared 20 years before Winchester installed one on a Model 70. He developed a partitioned hunting bullet in 1915, when John Nosler was two years old.
Charles Newton’s rifles and cartridges heralded trends that would evolve over decades. Hunting with the .256 put me in touch with his spirit and genius. Tamar probably felt the same, because first thing every morning on her Namibian safari, she picked up “the Newton.”
That scoped Sako could wait.
Newton: First wildcatter?
Stateside, the term dates back over a century. “Wildcat” can be noun or verb, ditto “wildcatting.” Following the U.S. Civil War, whale oil had become so costly, the government subsidized men looking for petroleum. Its price rose from 35 cents a barrel in 1862 to nearly $14 within the decade! Wildcatters drilled where oil hadn’t been found. By 1867 John D. Rockefeller had entered the industry. No wildcatter, conservative J.D. focused on refining and transporting oil. Standard Oil Company, founded in 1870, soon controlled most of the nation’s refineries and rails! At its zenith, Rockefeller’s net worth would amount to 2% of the country’s GDP!
The industrial age that had secured the future of petroleum also brought labor unions. Collective bargaining followed. So did strikes. Those outside the purview of unions were wildcat strikes.
The first cartridge called a wildcat probably dated to that era. Adoption of the .30-40 Krag by the U.S. Army in 1892 introduced shooters to small-bore smokeless rounds that begged “customizing.” The .30-06 encouraged further experiments. So did development of stronger rifle actions with improved steel. Handloaders re-barreled Springfields, Mausers and other infantry arms, cheap after the Great War.
Wildcatting cartridges, riflemen tested performance ceilings much as automobile buffs do when hiking the horsepower in hotrods. Then there’s the appeal of designing a cartridge (or “wheels”) uniquely yours.[/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”orange” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fspring-2019%2F%23spring-2019%2F144-145||target:%20_blank|”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_gallery type=”image_grid” images=”19739,19740,19741,19742,19743,19744,19745,19746,19747,19748,19749″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
