By Alessandro Cabella
Hunting near Hoedspruit, deep in the greater Kruger area of South Africa, offers something that few places on Earth can match: untamed wilderness, raw unpredictability, and adrenaline-charged encounters with some of the world’s most elusive predators. After landing in Johannesburg, I was greeted by my longtime friend and professional hunter, Ryan Beattie, owner of Dubula Hunting Safaris. We loaded the gear, packed the rifles, and began the drive northeast—leaving behind the highways and entering the African lowveld where baobabs tower, the mopani trees stretch wide, and the wild begins to speak. The road to Hoedspruit isn’t just a drive—it’s a slow descent into another world. A world where time slows down, senses sharpen, and the unknown always seems just one rustle away.
Camp, Bait, and the Stillness of the Bush
Our arrival at camp was greeted with warm hospitality, cold drinks, and a sense of readiness. The staff knew why we were there. And more importantly, so did the land. The baits had already been hung. The trail cams had shown promising activity—leopard, hyena, even a large crocodile crossing near one of the waterholes. The night shift of Africa was active. We planned to hunt from a blind, positioned near a bait site where hyena activity had been frequent. Hunting hyena is not for everyone—it requires patience, nerves of steel, and often takes place under cover of darkness, when the bush becomes a theater of shadows. That first
Gear & Hunt Details
Rifle: .300 Winchester Magnum
Ammunition: 180-grain soft point
Optics: Night vision-compatible scope with IR assist
Outfitter: Dubula Hunting Safaris
PH: Ryan Beattie
Location: Hoedspruit, Greater Kruger, South Africa
Species: Spotted Hyena (Crocuta crocuta)
Distance of Shot: Approx. 85 yards
Time: 11:30 p.m.
Conditions: Moonlit, dry season, high predator activity
Trophy Status: Largest hyena harvested in recent years; full-body mount commissioned
Display: Trophy donated to Dubula Hunting Safaris Lodge for display and conservation education
night, we settled into the blind at dusk. The air was still and heavy, but the bush was anything but quiet. Movement was constant. A leopard moved silently near the bait—unseen, but heard. Later, the unmistakable glide of a crocodile slipping into the shallows. Every creak of the branches or crack of grass heightened the tension. We sat in near-total darkness, rifles ready, eyes scanning, hearts pounding. No shot was fired that night, but the experience was unforgettable. It was a reminder that in Africa, success isn’t always measured in trigger pulls—but in proximity to the untouchable.
The Night It All Came Together
The second night was different. The air carried a strange electric stillness. Ryan and I climbed back into the blind just before nightfall. The bait was refreshed, and game trails were promising. Still, nothing in Africa is guaranteed—especially when it comes to predators. Hours passed in silence. Then, at 11:30 p.m., I caught subtle movement in the shadows near the waterhole. It wasn’t the silent glide of a leopard this time—it was the low, slinking movement of a clan of hyenas, drawn by the scent of impala. Their arrival was fast and focused. These were no scavengers simply passing through—they were hunting, and they knew exactly what they wanted. In the darkness, with only the dim light of the moon and infrared assistance, I steadied my rifle — my trusted .300 Winchester Magnum. The moment came fast. A large hyena stepped into the clearing, eyes scanning, powerful jaws visible even in the low light. I had only a fraction of a second to act. Breathing steady, rifle locked in place, I squeezed the trigger. The sound cracked across the night air—and in an instant, it was done. The hyena dropped, clean and final. All around, the bush held its breath.
Predators in the Dark
But the night was far from over. Just as the adrenaline from the shot began to subside, we heard the low growl of a leopard, still nearby. The crocodile had not moved far either. The hyenas that remained scattered into the brush, but the predators that had been watching never left. We sat in silence, processing what had just happened. Not just the shot—but the presence of three apex predators, all within yards of one another. This was pure Africa—not staged, not arranged, not controlled. Just raw nature, as it has always been. The moment was humbling. Not just for the trophy I had earned, but for the environment I had shared it with. Few hunters will ever take a shot under the eyes of a leopard and crocodile.
A Trophy Worthy of Legacy
The following day, I received news that made the hunt even more extraordinary. I was informed—no later than yesterday—that the hyena I had harvested was the largest taken in the region in years, a true outlier in both size and age. A rare, once-in-a-generation trophy. Out of respect for such a remarkable animal, I made the decision to have it mounted in full body, so that its presence—and the story of this hunt—can be preserved in a way that honors it.
The mount has been donated to Ryan Beattie and Dubula Hunting Safaris, where it will be displayed at the lodge for all hunters to see. Not as a boast—but as a tribute to the bush, the animal, and the powerful connection that ethical hunting can create.
Final Thoughts
Some hunts you remember. Others become part of who you are. This was one of those hunts. A powerful, unpredictable, deeply humbling experience—now immortalized not just in memory, but in legacy. Unforgettable.
