The previous day, Peter out scouting with his lead tracker, had seen fresh hoof prints of Cape buffalo, Snycerus caffer, close to a known watering hole, where they had set up base camp.
Once there and settled into their assigned tent, Joyce joked, “Well, not the Ritz, but It’s not bad. Where’s the shower?”
Erwin and the PH with his head tracker headed out later that afternoon to check if the herd was still there, approximately nine kilometers north and west of camp. On the drive back, as they crested a small hill, they spotted a group of cheetahs watching the grasslands, searching the horizon for prey.
Over a late meal with drinks, discussing the next day’s plan under a star-studded sky, Peter pointed out the constellation often seen in the Southern Hemisphere, known as the Southern Cross.
At 6:30 after onbyt (breakfast in Afrikaans), Peter and the Wilsons climbed into the Rover and, following the old Toyota truck with two of Peter’s trackers, drove several kilometers, scouting different sets of tracks before they located where the herd of buffalo had moved the previous evening. By the time they spotted them it was close to the day’s heat, so they let the herd bed down in some shade for a mid-day siesta.
Peter suggested they should not push the herd, but just find some shade themselves, and wait for the day’s heat to pass. They had located a herd, and, as Erwin had noted, “A meaningful male may well be amongst it.” It’s all about the size of the buffalo’s lethal horns and its age that is relevant. A herd of that size should have a couple of Dagga Boys peripheral to its location.
It was a beautiful time of day, the expansive views highlighting cirrus clouds over the surrounding savanna; a rolling grassland interspersed with the occasional baobab tree; elephant grass, and Acacia trees whose leaves are favored by giraffes, along with jackalberry, a large dioecious evergreen tree that frequently grows on termite mounds. After a three-hour break that included lunch and a nap for the hunters, the temperature started dropping and, more importantly, the wind was still in their faces, a necessity if their stalk was to be successful. After a short trek, they again spotted the herd. The animals had arisen and started moving.
Joyce, Erwin, Peter and the head tracker were downwind about 400 yards in some cover, but they needed to close the distance for a reliable shot. Finally, after what seemed like a long hour of painstaking, silent movement to check the wind and placement of the lumbering herd, Peter got Joyce and Erwin within 120 yards after spotting two old mature bulls with several tick birds on their rumps.
Peter had chosen a tiny patch where the grasses had parted so the five-foot-two Joyce could get a shot off the shooting sticks he had quickly put in place.
