Feb 17, 2018 | News, On Shooting
“THE DEADLIEST THING IN CAPTIVITY!”
Johan van Wyk
The key to success is a bit of basic knowledge of ballistics and, of course, practice, practice, practice!
I have a good friend who is a mechanical engineer by trade, but happens to be a gun dealer by vocation, specialising in rare and collectable firearms. Much of his time is spent reloading for obscure, old black powder cartridges, or regulating double rifles. Often, after one of his marathon sessions at the shooting bench or in the reloading room, I would hear my cell phone ping, and be confronted with an image of a target with two neat bullet holes through it as proof positive of another successful project. Without fail, the caption added by my satisfied friend would be: “The deadliest thing in captivity!”
Well, as nice as the old double rifles are, the real deadliest thing in captivity is actually the man (or woman, to be fair) that is really familiar with his or her rifle and can use it the way it was intended. Just about every professional hunter out there has a few horror stories to tell of clients who arrive for a hunt in Africa, but who are unable to hit the proverbial barn door from the inside. Poor marksmanship is one thing, but I must admit that I’ve seen some people that are beyond hope insofar as shooting is concerned. I pity the PH that has to guide such a hunter on a hunt for even the most benign creature!
In my humble opinion, many hunters underestimate the value of regular practice, and even competitive shooting, as far as skill with a hunting rifle is concerned. As a rule, most of us don’t shoot at animals at extended ranges (meaning past the 300-metre mark in my own case) but with a bit of practice it is usually not too difficult to get consistent results at longer ranges. I’m fortunate in that I belong to a shooting club where we take part in shooting competitions from as little as 25 metres up to 200 metres and more on a monthly basis, using life-sized animal targets with the vital areas indicated as scoring areas. I readily admit to being an average rifleman at the best of times, but the monthly practice sessions certainly do make a difference by the time hunting season rolls along.
In a similar vein, a bit of thought regarding equipment is in order as well. Far too often I have had to help out fellow shooters who arrived at the shooting range with a jumble of ammunition in different brands and bullet weights for their rifles. There is simply no way to shoot straight with such a mess of ammunition. At other times, I have seen guys struggling to sight in rifles with guard screws that hadn’t been tightened for years, and on one memorable occasion a guy was surprised to find himself holding his riflescope in his hands when trying to make adjustments after he’d fired a few shots, so loose were the rings!
The hunter who understands and has confidence in his equipment, and can shoot really well, is “the deadliest thing in captivity”, while the guy who pitches up totally unprepared with untried or poorly maintained equipment is exactly the opposite. I reckon we owe it to the game animals as well as our hunting companions and guides to do a bit of preparation and practice for the sake of success.
Some hunters handle their firearms with such precision and confidence, though, that it is a joy to behold. I recently accompanied two Australian friends on a hunt in South Africa, and it was clear that not only were both very capable marksmen, but very confident and familiar with their rifles as well. The first quarry to go down was a nice nyala bull. The first shot with a .30-06 from about a hundred and thirty metres across a gully was textbook perfect, and the bull went down in his tracks. It was a good start, but the next day two old giraffe bulls were even better examples of field marksmanship. They were hunted with an open-sighted .500 NE double, and even though the shooting distances were typically modest to accommodate the double, shot placement on both of the big animals was once again impeccable: the bullet holes in both (an initial shot with a follow-up shot, the good old left-and-right from the double rifle) could be covered by the palm of one’s hand – right through the heart on both of the big animals. On the last day a wildebeest bull made the mistake of pausing for a few seconds at long range when he shouldn’t have. It was a tricky shot with the bull standing at a strange angle, but again, the .30-06 spoke but once, and the result was a quick, clean kill.
It is a real pleasure to hunt with such people. They not only had a thorough knowledge of their rifle’s ballistics, but of basic animal anatomy as well. More importantly, they were both extremely confident shots who spent many hours back home on the shooting range honing their skills with a rifle.
And believe me, it showed in the field!
Feb 15, 2018 | News, Optic Guide
Optic Guide Special
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One scope to rule them all: The new Nightforce NX8™ 1-8 x 24 F1
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Feb 11, 2018 | Hunter Proud Foundation, News
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Hunter Proud Foundation: Duplicity and Deceit: How Rural Livelihoods Were Compromised in Botswana.
By Zig Mackintosh
An interesting paper was published in the South African Geographical Journal in March, 2017. “The effects of the safari hunting tourism ban on rural livelihoods and wildlife conservation in Northern Botswana” was written by Joseph E. Mbaiwa from the Okavango Research Institute, University of Botswana.
This paper examines the effects of the safari hunting ban of 2014 on rural livelihoods and wildlife conservation in Northern Botswana, using the social exchange theory (SET). Basically,
SET follows the premise that humans strive for a positive outcome, maximizing benefits and minimizing costs, when engaging in a transaction. To calculate the value of a relationship, costs are subtracted from benefits. If benefits outweigh costs, it’s a positive relationship. Conversely, when the costs are greater than the benefits, it’s a negative result. When SET is applied to conservation and livelihoods, net benefits will foster positive attitudes towards tourism. If local people are actively involved in wildlife management and benefit economically from participation, then wildlife will be conserved as community welfare improves. Remove or reduce the benefits, and the outcomes will turn negative.
An aerial wildlife census was completed in 2011 by the NGO, Elephants Without Borders. The researchers concluded that wildlife populations in Botswana had been decimated by hunting, poaching, human encroachment, habitat fragmentation, drought, and veld fires. They reported that 11 species numbers had declined by an average of 61% since a 1996 survey. This included ostrich: a 95% decline; wildebeest: 90%; tsessebe: 84%; warthog and kudu: 81%, and giraffe 66%. The Botswana Government cited the census results as the key factor that led to the safari hunting ban across the country in January 2014. Plains-game hunting on private land was still permitted.
Prior to implementing the ban, the Government consulted with stakeholders such as local communities in wildlife areas, tourism operators, researchers, academics, conservationists, scientists and the Botswana hunters’ association through workshops and public meetings. NGOs such as the Kalahari Conservation Society and Ngamiland Council of Non-Governmental Organizations were also included in the consultations. There was significant opposition to a hunting ban at these meetings. Academics criticized the Elephant Without Borders findings as being flawed. They argued that the study was just a snapshot, and that knowledge of long-term wildlife trends or time series data on wildlife populations in Botswana were a prerequisite before a decision on a ban could be made. The ban was, nevertheless, imposed.
In his paper Mbaiwa goes on to quantify the loss of revenue and jobs to local communities after the ban was effected. It was calculated that safari hunting generated 15% of tourism revenues from only 1% of tourist arrivals, making it one of the lowest impact forms of tourism in Botswana. At its peak, hunting in Botswana generated more than US $20 million annually, more than US $6 million of which was hunting license revenue that went directly to the Department of Wildlife and National Parks. Between 2006–2009, safari hunting generated US $ 3 120 000 for rural communities, while photographic tourism generated only US $ 415 000. Of this, 49.5% of revenue from the safari hunting industry is used in the local district, 25.7% at the national level and only 24.8% was being paid overseas mainly in the form of agents’ commissions and profits. Conversely, only 27% of photographic tourism revenue is being retained within Botswana, while the rest is leaked outside the country. Over 600 jobs were lost and 4 800 livelihoods affected. Photographic operations have not picked up the slack in marginal areas because these areas are not suited to photo-tourism. Community projects such as the construction of houses for the needy, funeral insurance, scholarships and household dividends have dried up.
The loss of protein in the form of meat from the hunted animals is substantial. In the last 5 years prior to the hunting ban each community was allocated a total of 22 elephants or 154 tonnes of meat per annum, this in addition to the meat from other animals hunted such as buffalo. The communities were permitted to sell any excess meat and in one area alone, Sankoyo, $600,000 was realized from meat sales in 2010.
So, as per social exchange theory, it follows that when the costs are greater than the benefits, the outcomes turn negative. Human-wildlife conflict has increased appreciably, and the nationwide reports rose from 4 361 in 2012 to 6 770 in 2014. Poaching is on the rise and is having a significant impact on wildlife populations.
There is no scientific study that has so far proved that safari hunting in Botswana was carried out on an unsustainable basis to warrant a ban in 2014. On the contrary, there is evidence that safari hunting in Botswana was regulated, particularly through the quota system, to promote sustainability.
The safari hunting ban represents a retrogressive step and a top-down imposition that contradicts the goals of conservation and rural development which the Community-based natural resource management (CBNRM) program was established to achieve. The ban is reducing huge benefits generated by communities from safari hunting.
Lessons need to be learned from past experiences. Kenya banned hunting in 1977. Between 1977 and 1996, Kenya experienced a 40% decline in wildlife populations, both within and outside of its national parks, due primarily to poaching. Kenya’s wildlife numbers have continued to fall, with wildlife numbers today being less than half of that which existed before the ban. Similarly, the 2001–2003 ban on safari hunting in Zambia resulted in an upsurge in poaching due to the removal of incentives for conservation.
Why do we have to keep re-inventing the wheel? As shown in this paper, sustainable consumptive utilization works. The keyboard conservationists spouting their shrill alarmism should be ignored and left to themselves in their social media cesspool groups. Wildlife management must be left to the wildlife managers on the ground in Africa.
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Feb 9, 2018 | News
Dear Richard,
I always look forward to receiving my copy of the African Hunting Gazette which I have regarded as one of the best magazines that I subscribe to and was shocked to read your editorial in the Spring, 2018 edition. As a result, I am writing this to you as a response to, and a criticism of, your editorial. I have issues with many of your arguments and I also think your conclusion that ALL hunters must stick together is dead wrong and here’s why.
First off I am a passionate hunter living in Canada where just recently, in our game rich Province of British Colombia the hunting of one of our iconic game species, the grizzly bear, has been banned by the provincial govt. This was as a result of an emotion based outcry against what was termed “an outdated and barbarous practice” according to an alleged opinion survey that supposedly was performed by the authorities. In my, maybe cynical opinion, this was something that was fuelled by the anti-hunting fraternity. This ban happened in spite of and in the face of, a recent exhaustive and scientific study by the province’s environmental experts which found that the grizzly population of some 16,000 to 17,000 bears was thriving and increasing and that the grizzly bear hunts were being well managed on a sustainable quota basis. Public perceptions matter, whether it’s in Canada, Europe or in Africa and we better get that straight right off the bat if we hunters, who unquestionably are under attack, wish to survive. Living in a large city and being a “social animal” I am well plugged into public opinions of hunting in general and hunters in particular. Our image is rapidly eroding and the anti- hunting organizations all over the world are beginning to win the war of public opinion. We live in democracies and public opinion matters and not all non-hunters are anti- hunters as your editorial implies. People vote. Fuel for the anti- hunting bonfire is not hard to find and some of our fraternity provide this fuel.
Your editorial fails to acknowledge the precarious situation that hunters, not only in Africa, but all over the world are currently facing – something the breakaway group from PHASA obviously has.
As with grizzly bears, there is a universal and often emotionally charged regard for the African lion, an animal central to your editorial. “A huge swell of public emotion” is a characteristic both these iconic big game species have in common. Beware, because without any tangible reason, and without the above mentioned “fuel”, this British Columbia hunt for an impeccably managed species was banned . This action provides a good example of what can happen when alleged negative public opinion is harnessed and this could easily happen, and obviously has happened in South Africa where there are some real and controversial, issues surrounding lion hunting. I do a fair amount of African hunting and I have invoked the ire of some African PH’s when it comes to the issue of “canned lion hunting”, a practice I have challenged. This is ironic because this is something I am also confronted with by anti- hunting “groupies “– some of whom seem to make a living by moving from protest venue to protest venue. I do not buy the theory put to me by some PH’s that for every captive bred lion (CBL) hunted, a wild lion’s life is spared. Properly regulated, sustainable “wild lion” hunting should not constitute a problem to the species and should not be an issue. Unlike you, I personally find the hunting of a CBL in a limited fenced enclosure repulsive and not defensible. 500 acres is ostensibly a large chunk of real estate, but the operator generally know where the lions like to hang out -usually where they are fed donkeys.Yes, through lion “farming” the numbers of these magnificent felines have soared, but I believe the motives behind these programs are not altruistic and have nothing to do with conservation, but have everything to do with making money- lots of it. This, after all is perhaps the top ranked, and most expensive species to hunt of all the African big game.
If hunting CBL was banned, I would not feel sorry for those businessmen who have seen the hunting of this iconic species as a route to riches. If they see this as a business they have to take the risk all businesses have to take. Tough.From what I have heard most of these operators are either wealthy businessmen or ranchers so I am not shedding too many tears for them.
So what does one do do with the thousands of farm raised lions.?? I don’t rightly know the answer, but there are areas, former lion ranges in Africa which conceivably might benefit from the reintroduction of these animals. Somehow I doubt this as the indigenous people probably have moved in with their domestic animals. This relocation would cost a lot of money and maybe this is a time when the genuine animal rights, animal lover, etc. organizations would step up to the plate with the cash or an alternative solution and this might be doable -but my gut feel says “dream on”. Sadly human greed has resulted in too many lions and a huge problem.
In the meantime I believe that if “wild lions” are to be hunted in established habitats as they should be, this must only be permitted on the basis of a sound scientific evaluation, taking such important factors into account such as sustainability and the benefit to the local communities. If the price for such a hunt goes up, so be it. Only a small and select group of hunters would be able to afford the privilege of such a hunt for what is unquestionably a magnificent animal. I will not dignify the practices to do with ‘turbocharged” horn growth and colour variations with any observations other than once again it’s all about money and makes a mockery of nature with which mankind seems hell bent on interfering.
The schism in the hunting community in South Africa I think has everything to do with the above factors which in the end boil down to the “business” of hunting and money vs. ethics. My parents brought me up to believe that in life one is often judged by the company one keeps. I believe this to be true. As a hunter I do not want to be judged and lumped in with those individuals in the hunting community with whose practices I totally disagree. Individuals whose approach to something I hold to be precious seem to be based on factors such as greed, results,awards, boasting rights, killing genetic aberrations, quantity not quality. And the list goes on. Their actions could lead to the ending of all hunting on this planet. This, after all, is the goal of the anti hunting groups. The word “slob” is usually applied to some drivers -it can also be applied to some hunters -and they give us all a bad name.
I do not buy in to the arguments, either, about the “law permits the status quo.”(with regard to CBL hunting) which, somehow, makes it “alright. I say this because laws change and politicians can be lobbied towards many different decisions as they have in British Columbia. At the end of the day the things that count should be obvious to any ethical hunter and they should conduct themselves accordingly. In addition, I do not think any compassionate hunter that I know of would decry the right of a handicapped person or a wounded war veteran to their right to hunt with the assistance of some sort of mechanical device be it a wheelchair, a vehicle or any other means of conveyance. There are always sensible exceptions to be made to any rule.
The saying, “words are what we live by” is a fact of life, but lets not play word games with words such as “ethical”, “fair chase” etc. I think my nine year old grand daughter understands what is implied by these words given the context in which they are used – without the need to resort to a dictionary
In this modern world few people need to hunt to feed themselves as mankind as hunter gatherers had to in the past. We live in an era where, for example, thanks to all the technical advances that have occurred, “ hunting” (killing) from the back of a vehicle with a heavy calibre machine gun is certainly possible and has, indeed, occurred in some of Africa’s many wars. What about hunting with drones in the future?? Long ago and anticipating similar practices with the emerging modern world, organizations such as the Boone and Crockett Club in North America and the East African Professional Hunters Association, as two examples, laid down what they regarded as rules for “fair chase” and “ethical” recreational hunting. In my book these efforts were and are admirable and still valid.
“ United we stand, divided we fall” is an often heard clarion call. It sounds good on the surface but one has to have a clear understanding of the issues that one is “standing up for” Based on the fractured state of the of sport hunting industry I don’t see that a “united front” holds true at this time. If a thorough house cleaning is required and I think it is, only then can we stand united with a set of common ethical values.
At the end of the day, I believe, that if the hunting industry promotes acceptable hunting ethics and conservation models that the non-hunting public can understand, this segment of our society might just appreciate what hunters have contributed to wildlife on this planet. Lets not turn non-hunters into anti-hunters. They need us and we need them. As already stated – they vote.
Sooner rather than later, editors such as yourself will have to take a position on these crucial issues if hunting is going to survive. Your editorial endeavours to be” all things to all people.”I understand that the publication that you edit is a business and, given the vehemently opposing positions in the hunting world I can only guess at the fallout that inevitably will occur whatever position you take, but that is the hard reality of life. With reference to the last line of your editorial in which you declare “I am not sure – you have to be the judge” I see this as” passing the buck “-I can only suggest that you make up your mind about these crucial issues before it is too late.
Tony Marsh. Toronto, Jan. 2018
Feb 9, 2018 | News, Uncategorized
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Mountain, Bush, and Little Blue.
By Ken Bailey
Blue duiker is not a species most hunters consider when creating their African wish list. They don’t have the immense size of an eland or a Cape buffalo, or the regal bearing of a kudu or sable. And in a beauty contest, an impala or lechwe would certainly put them to shame.
No, by most standards, the blue duiker simply does not match up. But rather than focus on what a blue duiker is not, hunters should focus on what they are, because if you’ve not hunted them, you’re missing out on an exceptionally challenging and enjoyable experience.
Blue duikers are among the smallest antelopes in Africa, and the smallest in South Africa, roughly the size of a large jackrabbit, about 15 inches high at the shoulder. Their coat color is variable, but is often the bluish-grey that gives the species its name. Both sexes have horns up to two inches long, making it very difficult to distinguish males from females, especially given that you seldom see them standing still. They’re secretive and cautious by nature, nearly always confined to dense forested cover where they feed on leaves and fruits.
I recently hunted blue duiker in South Africa’s Eastern Cape, a province I’d not previously hunted, and it completely exceeded my expectations. Leading the mission was long-time friend and PH, Eldre Hattingh, owner/operator of Lucca African Safaris. I’d last hunted with Eldre in Limpopo a few years previously and had quickly said yes when he invited me to explore the Eastern Cape with him. To fully appreciate the diversity of the region, we planned to hunt from the thick coastal thorn bush along the Indian Ocean coastline up to the very peaks of the inland snow mountains. Our quarry would be the iconic species that characterize the Eastern Cape – blue duiker and Cape bushbuck along the coast, mountain reedbuck and, if the opportunity presented itself, Vaal rhebok at the highest altitude.
We hunted near Port Alfred, a small coastal town settled by the English in the 1820s and named in honor of Queen Victoria’s son, Alfred. The area is dominated by mixed farming, but is also the widely acknowledged blue duiker capital of South Africa.
In the thickly-forested slopes that we hunted, every plant seemed to have thorns. We duck-walked and crawled, invariably snagging our shirts every few steps, often having to back up to get free. Stepping into this dense thorn bush is like entering another dimension – there’s no transition. In one step you literally cross from the light into the dark, and your first impression is ominous and foreboding.
Blue duiker forage under the canopy along well-defined trails. They’re territorial, so it’s unusual to find more than a pair in any one bush. The trick is to find a small clearing adjacent to one or more of their active pathways where you can sit and wait. Once you’re settled, the handler turns his dogs loose to find and pursue a duiker. Our handler uses braces of beagles and Jack Russell terriers, allowing one to spell off the other when they tire. By the frequency and volume of their baying or barking you can tell when they’re on a hot scent. You wait in expectation, hoping the duiker will run near you in its efforts to shake off the dogs.
You don’t really see the first blue duiker. Or the second. It’s more that you sense them or, if you’re really lucky, you catch a blur of movement out of the corner of your eye. No matter how much warning your PH gives, it’s never enough in the beginning.
They say some blue duikers are runners while others are sneakers – the sneakers seem to be pretty rare in my experience! We set up in four locations the first day, and at each saw a blue duiker – or at least a flash of movement I was told was a duiker! In any case, I didn’t get so much as a shot off at any of them. They were too quick, or I’d see them too late, or they emerged from a direction opposite to where I was watching. Still, I was having great fun, and Eldre assured me my experience was pretty typical for a first-timer, and that persistence would pay off.
Day two, on just our second setup, things started to change. Remarkably, as I crouched among a tangle of thorns listening to the baying of the beagles, a duiker ran straight up the trail towards me, stopping only 30 yards away. I raised my shotgun as quickly as I could and took the shot. A shower of earth revealed that I had missed low. There was no second shot, as the tiny antelope wasn’t about to stick around to see what all the fuss was about. It was frustrating, as in reflection I probably had time to aim more carefully. But considering the previous day’s episodes, snap-shooting seemed like the best option. All we could do was laugh at my ineptitude and keep hunting, so I settled back, listening to the familiar sound of dogs on the trail.
Only 20 minutes later at nearly the same spot, I picked up a flash of movement darting from left to right. Pure instinct took over, and I swung the smoothbore just as I do dozens of times each fall on crossing bluebills at my favorite duck lake. Just that quickly, our blue duiker hunt was over.
From there we set our sights on Cape bushbuck, heading southwest along the coast towards Jeffrey’s Bay, a town revered in the international surfing community. Bushbuck are one of my favorite antelope to hunt. Elegant and compact, they’re also maddeningly elusive. They’re also exceptionally pugnacious and have a well-documented reputation for being dangerous when wounded – no other antelope is as likely to attempt to separate you from your bowels as is a bushbuck. The smallest of the spiral horns, perhaps they have “little man’s syndrome”, such is their predisposition to aggression at any perceived injustice.
I’d hunted Limpopo bushbuck successfully with Eldre, and was especially excited to pursue the Cape subspecies, mid-sized in the bushbuck family and noted for its dark, almost black, coat. We’d be hunting on a large dairy farm and, like much of the Eastern Cape, it would be completely free-range hunting – fences designed to confine cattle and sheep mean little to game animals. Pulling in before first light, we hiked to the back of a secluded irrigated hay field, sitting inside the treeline for bushbuck that, as it turned out, would never arrive. Two bushbuck ewes feeding three-quarters of a mile away at least provided hope and entertainment while we sat. With late morning the wind picked up, which has a tendency to discourage notoriously nervous rams, so we opted to regroup and headed back to the truck for a snack.
Early afternoon we hiked towards the same field, and had not gone far when we spotted movement. Through our binos we could make out 11 bushbuck grazing at the end of the hay flat, nearly a mile distant. Closer inspection revealed a ram with eight ewes and a separate pair of rams. From our vantage point, both appeared to have pretty good horns. So, from within the cover of the thorn bush we slowly picked our way towards them, pausing occasionally to peek out and confirm they were still feeding. Chacma baboons frequent the area, so we remained well hidden to help avoid the inevitable alarm barks if one saw us.
Eventually we ran out of cover and huddled behind the last available tree, about 275 yards from the grazing rams. One was clearly the elder statesman, with thick black horns, one noticeably broomed, his swollen neck a sure sign the rut was in full swing. Despite a good rest, my initial shot was a couple of inches low; a second anchored him before he could escape into the adjacent stream valley. Had he made it, we’d have been challenged to root him out of the thick stuff. As we walked up to where he lay in the tall grass, his magnificence became apparent. This was a true “Dagga Boy” of a ram, well-muscled with thick horns, and bearing a wound in his side undoubtedly suffered fighting a rival for dominance. Eldre estimated him at nine years or more.
The ecological variability of the Eastern Cape is second to none in South Africa, and while best known for its beautiful coastal region, it also boasts the highest mountains in the country apart from the Drakensberg. It was to those mountains we headed, arriving at a secluded lodge high in the Sneeuberge, an Afrikaans word meaning “Snow Mountains”. This is not an easy place to hunt – the steep terrain makes every stalk a lung-scorcher, and vast properties with few fences ensure truly free-range pursuit.
The diverse habitats of the Eastern Cape support a wide array of species. Glassing from the lodge our first evening revealed no shortage of game on the surrounding hillsides. Without leaving the comfort of a deck chair, I identified kudu, red lechwe, impala, bontebok, waterbuck, steenbok, giraffe, zebra, eland, gemsbok and black wildebeest. And I knew, somewhere high on the open grassy slopes, was the mountain reedbuck I was seeking.
Mountain reedbuck are the smaller, prettier cousins of the common reedbuck. Standing 30 inches or less at the shoulder, a mature ram weighs about 60 lbs., with a woolly reddish-grey coat and forward-curving horns. As the name implies, they live on mountain slopes, descending into the valleys each evening to graze and water, climbing back early in the morning. There they take refuge in the highest, open slopes, intermittently grazing and bedding in sheltered nooks among the rocks.
I quickly discovered that, while calm when undisturbed, mountain reedbuck become extremely skittish at the first sign of anything unusual. With little cover beyond the natural swales of the open slopes to conceal one’s movement, closing the distance on them is difficult. If they do spot you, they quickly flee with their distinctive “rocking horse” gait, rarely stopping until they’ve covered several hundred yards.
Over a few days, Eldre and I made several half-hearted stalks on reedbucks, mostly to familiarize me with the species and to learn to differentiate rams from ewes, and good rams from average. That’s a much more difficult task than it sounds, complicated by the relatively short horns of even the largest rams and their long, slim ears.
At some point we had to get serious, however, so decided to make a concerted effort one afternoon. We slowly walked the grassy tops of the highest peak, pausing regularly to glass the surrounding slopes. It wasn’t long before we spotted a lone male that looked promising, about three-quarters of a mile away, so we ducked behind cover and began to work our way over. We hadn’t gone more than 100 yards, however, when a ram and ewe scrambled out of a rock pile and galloped towards the edge of nearby ravine.
“He’s a good one. Get ready in case he stops,” Eldre whispered excitedly, simultaneously setting up the shooting sticks. Instantly I nestled into the “V”, trying to follow the up and down motion of the escaping ram.
We all need a little luck now and then, and good fortune smiled on me that afternoon. Rather than follow his mate over the crest and out of our lives, that ram, for reasons known only to him, stopped on the precipice for one look back. I didn’t waste the opportunity, and the largest mountain reedbuck a client of Eldre’s has taken was down.
My hunt ended the following day. As it turned out I didn’t get to hunt Vaal rhebok before leaving, but I wasn’t the least bit disappointed. There will be another time, another hunt. For if I learned only one thing while hunting the Eastern Cape from top to bottom, it’s that there is no shortage of reasons to return.
Ken Bailey is an avid hunter and fly-fisherman from Canada who has pursued sporting opportunities across four continents. A wildlife conservation consultant by trade, he has been writing about his outdoor experiences for more than 25 years. He has served as the Hunting Editor for “Outdoor Canada” magazine since 1994.
Note: Hunting the Eastern Cape or the nearby Karoo with Eldre Hattingh and Lucca African Safaris begins in Port Elizabeth, which is serviced by air from major cities in South Africa and elsewhere. To learn more about the many hunting opportunities offered, check out their website at www.luccasafaris.com or call Eldre at (011 27) 82 879 5966.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_gallery type=”image_grid” images=”14099,14100,14102,14104,14105,14106,14107,14101″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
Feb 3, 2018 | Bowhunting, News
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]America and South Africa: 1980s
Buffalo with a Bow … seven species. Part 1
By Dr Adrian de Villiers
It was the early 1980s, and it was time for something different. I decided to focus on wild oxen of the world, starting with a bison – ‘Red Indians’ had shot thousands with longbows off horses. I booked a hunt with Paul Mooney in Marathon, Texas.
Paul wanted to make a video, and nearly got me killed by a cantankerous old bison. There were a few salient facts that he had not mentioned before we set out… Lone bison bulls are chased out of the main herd, and their eyesight is not that good in thick bush. When herd bulls bump into lone bulls, a huge fight ensues, so when you startle a lone bull, he just attacks to defend himself as he thinks he’s been seen by the herd bull.
Early one morning we spotted a large lone bull. Paul said it was not big enough for a trophy, that I should do a “mock stalk” for the video to be used later. It was hot, so I took off my white T-shirt and stuffed it in my pocket. Wearing my soft moccasin shoes, full camo overalls, gloves and a face mask, and staying in the shadows, I stalked the bull up to 25 yards. Paul, all six-foot-six of him in blue jeans, cowboy boots with noisy leather soles, a huge camera and a white Stetson, lumbered noisily ten yards behind me. Of course, the bison saw him and charged us. As I ran, I was terrified it would get me. In Marathon the cedar trees grow up to 12 feet and give good cover, but they are NOT climbable! There is also cholla, yucca, and cat-claw, all very unfriendly to humans.
I slipped in between the trees zigging and zagging, but the bison kept after me. Fortunately, a cat claw bush pulled the white T-shirt out my pocket, and the bison attacked it with a vengeance. After that I kept two T-shirts to throw out behind me if I was charged again!
A few days later I found a nice bull grazing towards me with the wind right, and I had great cover. The bison was walking towards a strong, five-strand barbed wire cattle fence that would protect me if he saw me and charged. He couldn’t see me from behind a cactus plant, so I drew my bow, very quietly sneaked right up to the fence, and sent a perfect shot from twenty yards as he was quartering away. He bolted off, then stopped and looked back. I was motionless in the dense shadow of a cedar tree. I watched, shaking from adrenalin. The bull swayed, lay down, and within less than a minute it was all over. I was thrilled – my homemade bow had worked flawlessly.
I next booked a hunt with my friend Luchs for an Asian (Indian) water buffalo as it was a step up in size and not quite as aggressive as the Cape buffalo. Water buffalo are similar in size, behaviour, and characteristics, but the Indian/Argentinian version has deep, swept-back horns as distinct from the very wide, straightish horns of the Asian/Australian species.
By now I had replaced my American Archery limbs with Pearson Spoiler limbs which shot incredibly well. My handmade bow was shooting like a dream. I sighted it in up to 80 yards. I sighted it at such long distances, not just to hunt, but to get in a second arrow on a wounded animal. We didn’t work out the kinetic energy or momentum in those days; I just used the heaviest bows and arrows that shot well. My guess is I was using about 120 foot pounds, and 1000-gr arrows.
A large herd was grazing in a swamp very close to a deep riverbed which afforded secure cover to get in really close. The snag was that the banks of the river were so steep, and the grass on the top of the bank was so short that it would be impossible to shoot from either, as they would surely see us and take off. I clambered up the bank and peeked over. Twenty yards away was a depression surrounded by high grass, and there was a huge willow tree making dense shade underneath it, a good place to hide as the noonday sun burnt down on us. As soon as the herd moved behind the thick cover, we sneaked into the thicket and made preparations. The best bull was at 50 yards, which was too far for me for a first shot in those days, and the wind was blowing hard, which made a long shot difficult.
“We’re going to just have to sit and wait and see what happens and take it from there,” I said.
I was hoping the heat would make the herd head for the thicket, but they seemed to be immune to it. We waited for four hours before they started grazing along the river bank towards us.
“Here they come!” I nocked an arrow. The river was only 25 yards away and the wind was blowing obliquely towards it – they would only smell us when they were farther past. We stayed hidden as the herd slowly passed close by, the biggest bull at the back. Then the lead cow picked up our scent and sounded the alarm. They started to stampede. I drew my bow – the shot would be difficult. I knew I should lead the buffalo by a full body length not to hit it too far back or even miss it… even at 20 yards.
I hate aiming in front of an animal, it just doesn’t feel right, but the huge, two-bladed Thunderhead did its job. Too far back or not, at sixty yards the buffalo stopped and fell over. My Asian water buffalo would be #1 SCI for a long time.
I now knew my bow and arrow combination was adequate for buffalo, and set my sights on a Cape buffalo hunt which I organised in Hoedspruit, South Africa. I also knew I needed to be ultra-careful with the beast known as “Black Death.” It would have been easy to shoot one from a tree stand along the river, or at a regular drinking hole, or buy a truckload of animal feed, dump it and come back a few days later and sit in a hide. But I wanted the walk and stalk method, on foot, up close and personal.
It was very dry and cold that September. Although the hunting season had officially ended, farms with a “P3 Exemption certificate” may hunt all year round, and as I was shooting only old bulls it would not affect the breeding program. The bush was desolate, not a leaf on a branch and very little grass away from the river. The animals could spot me from a mile away. I slowed down to a snail’s pace and stayed in the shadows. The whole morning passed with no result, not even a glimpse of a buffalo. Then I came to a dry riverbed and stalked along the edge opposite to the wind, hoping to catch one at a pool in the river. Just as I was giving up hope, I saw a large dust cloud behind me with red-billed oxpeckers rising out of it.
“Buffalo. They’re coming, think and fast.” Jogging along to keep ahead of them I suddenly saw an opportunity – a huge, dry tree on the river bank with a horizontal branch sticking out about six feet from the base of the tree. An easy climb. Fully camouflaged, I sat on the branch over the riverbed. My plan was to spot a big bull at the back of the herd and shoot as it passed under me. I estimated the distance to where I thought they would walk at 30 yards – perfect. I set my sights and waited. Where I sat was an old hippo slide, a good spot to exit the deep riverbed. As the buffalo started getting nearer, the herd trailing behind the leader by thirty yards, I scanned them with my binoculars to look for a nice bull. I was expecting to take a thirty-yard shot on a moving animal, when the leaders suddenly veered up the hippo slide right in front of me, passing me just ten yards away. I was totally safe, only two yards above them, out on a limb, literally, when a really nice bull stretched out his front legs to get out over the top of the bank. My arrow took him right in the heart. He jumped, ran thirty-five yards and went down hard. The herd bunched up behind him in turmoil, not knowing what had happened or what to do. Then another nice bull, not as big as the first, was straddled over the edge right in front of me, trying to push his way into the herd.
“When am I ever going to get another chance like this?” I asked myself. Ignoring the fact that I would now be in for double the cost, I sent another perfect shot. The second one died almost touching the first.
I was elated – my first of the Big Five. I was on my way.
BIO
Adrian is a retired radiologist, game breeder and professional hunter and bowhunter. He is desperately trying to get the next species of buffalo, the fearsome gaur. They have been protected in India and Indonesia for years. If anyone knows where he can legally bowhunt one, please email him @ sarc@icon.co.za
I had moved from being a handgun hunter to trying out a bow and arrow, and wanted to be the first person in Africa to shoot the Big Five and a hippo, legally, with a bow and arrow. In those days the local archery establishments knew very little about the sport – they were usually gun shops with a few bows in the corner somewhere, so I contacted many famous bowhunters and American Archery manufactures. “What arrow weight and what poundage should I use to shoot a Cape buffalo and elephant?” I asked. No one really knew.
I wrote to Fred Bear and I have a copy of that letter dated 1986! He replied that one could NOT kill an elephant with a bow and arrow, no matter how heavy the arrow or how strong the bow. To cut a long story short, by 1992 I had shot the Big Five and a hippo – with bow and arrows.
I had been shooting a PSE Mach 1 on 80 # but wanted more poundage. However, as I increased the poundage by getting American Archery to make me 105# limbs, the cast magnesium risers started to break regularly. (Not something you want to happen when you are drawing down on dangerous game!) So I decided to make my own bow riser out of T4 aircraft aluminium. It shot beautifully and weighed a staggering nine pounds, but it was as steady as a rock at full draw. I could not find a stiff enough arrow off the shelf, so I inserted a 2419 arrow into a 2512 aluminium arrow, and used one of Andy Simo’s (New Archery Products’ president) 273 gr stainless steel African Broadheads.
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