As far as bolt-actions intended for dangerous game are concerned, the famed M98 Magnum Mauser is without doubt the most famous. It is most often associated with classy British rifles with the names and addresses of famous gunmakers engraved on the barrel. As such, they are often greatly coveted (whenever one becomes available, it has to be said) by serious collectors and riflemen alike.
The M98 Mauser action was originally designed for the German military cartridge of the day, the 8×57 JS, and the Gewehr 98 ticked all the right boxes. It was strong, easy to disassemble and maintain, could be reloaded under pressure by means of stripper clips, and, most importantly, it was reliable. These same qualities, of course, made the M98 eminently suitable for sporting use as well, and it wasn’t long before M98-actioned rifles were in use in the hunting fields of Africa and Asia.
In addition to actions dedicated for military use, the Mauserwerke also made excellent M98 actions for commercial use, and they even sold these in sparing quantities to other makers for their own use. Although military-surplus Mauser actions were available for relatively modest prices almost right from the start, several best-quality British rifles were made on commercial M98 actions, and the ones I have seen have generally been superb. These rifles were largely responsible for the death-knell of the superb Gibbs-Farquharson and other single-shot falling-block actions which had hitherto been the more affordable alternative to an expensive double rifle.
With the advent of the cordite era in the late 1890s, the gunmakers of the day were challenged to develop large-bore cartridges suitable for use on dangerous game, and that could be made to function reliably in the new repeating actions. Westley Richards developed their .425 which was a slightly odd-looking cartridge with a bottleneck case and a rebated rim, while Jeffery developed the .404, a fine cartridge with a gently sloping shoulder that was clearly developed with smooth feeding from a bolt action. Holland & Holland came up with their superb .375 H&H Magnum, to this day one of the most popular big-bore cartridges. All these cartridges could be made to work from a standard-length M98 action, but this course of action was potentially fraught with peril as well. The list of modifications to accomplish such a conversion effectively and safely was extensive: Open the bolt face and magazine rails, remove steel from behind the locking-lug recess to lengthen magazine space (potentially the biggest cause of trouble as it weakens the action in a very crucial area), and lengthen the bolt throw. Sometimes, a clearance notch had to be milled into the receiver ring to allow loaded cartridges to be ejected, and often a completely new trigger guard/magazine box assembly had to be fitted as well.
In their capacity as the Mauser agents in England, John Rigby & Co took a somewhat different approach. Way back in 1899, Mauser developed a special M98 action to accommodate Rigby’s .400/350 Nitro-Express cartridge. The .400/350 NE was a long, rimmed cartridge that fired a 310-grain bullet at moderate muzzle velocity, but it was a proven success on large game. So what Mauser did was to adapt their Siamese Mauser action by lengthening it by approximately a quarter of an inch and fit it with a specially developed sloping magazine box that allowed smooth feeding of the rimmed .400/350 cartridge. When Rigby started looking around for a suitable action for the newly developed .416 Rigby some years later, the Magnum Mauser action was born, and suddenly a host of new possibilities opened up.
The Magnum Mauser action was the inspiration behind such proprietary cartridges as the .416 Rigby and .505 Gibbs, and the long M98 action could be tuned to handle these cartridges without a hiccup. Magnum Mausers were usually fitted with straddle-type floorplates with push-button release levers, and the floorplates were also of different thicknesses accordingly to suit the proposed cartridge to be used in the action. Even bolt handles were proportioned according to the depth of the magazine boxes used. Although the .375 H&H Magnum and .404 Jeffery could be made to work perfectly acceptably from a standard-length M98, many high-grade .375’s and .404’s were nevertheless made on Magnum Mauser actions, as were Rigby’s later .350 Rimless Magnum. Mauser also used the Magnum Mauser extensively, and their factory rifles chambered for the .404, 8×75, and .280 Ross all made use of the longest Mauser action available.
The combination of German engineering and British tailoring (to steal a phrase from Mauser historian Jon Speed) was a winning combination, and in a well-made rifle a Magnum Mauser action was as reliable as anything. Across the Atlantic, makers such as Griffin & Howe and Hoffman Arms also made use of the Magnum Mauser action and some of the rifles produced by these icons of American gunmaking are extremely well made and highly sought-after as well.
When production of the Magnum was forcibly halted as a result of the outcome of World War II, it left a very big gap that took years to be filled. The French-made Brevex action was a good substitute, but was only made in limited numbers. When the Brno 602 came along in the 1960s, many were pressed into service to handle the big bolt-action cartridges of yesteryear, but people still fondly remembered the old Magnum Mauser.
It took more than half a century, but finally the Magnum Mauser was revived, and by none other than the reconstituted Mauser company itself. It is again in production, and again in use by the (new) Rigby in London, part of the same group of companies. Not to be outdone, Magnum Mauser actions are available from a small number of boutique makers as well. One thing is sure about the legendary Magnum Mauser, though: it was just too good to be left to die.[/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”chino” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fapr-may-june-2019%2F%23africa-hunting-gazette%2F114-115|||”][/vc_column][/vc_row]
The largest, the fastest running and arguably one of the most unique birds on the planet – the Ostrich – is a hardy, resilient, yet magnificent regal creature which stands nine feet tall.
Distinctly African, it is distinctly linked to mankind’s past. The Ostrich has inspired cultures and civilizations for centuries, dating back 5,000 years. The hunter-gatherers, the forefathers of the San Bushmen of the Kalahari used ostrich eggshells as water containers for centuries. Holes were drilled into the emptied eggs, used to store precious water and buried stashed in the ground. This ancient tribe of native Africans also produced jewelry from the creamy, textured, strong and elegant material.
Only the Ostrich feathers adorned the well-heeled people of Europe and America, but never ostrich shell jewelry for decades. Today, the Ostrich is the source of one of the most sustainable works of art – Ostrich Jewelry. Egg shells are collected after the birds have bred and raised their young, and artists in the southern tip of Africa use the discarded shells of the unusual birds to design, produce and offer a range of truly unique jewelry.
Now, we can offer a choice of classic Ostrich shell jewelry, from necklaces to earrings, cufflinks to pendants .The range is vast, the selection is wide. We invite you to browse through our array and choose a piece to complement your taste.
The world of cartridges has now reached a degree of madness that defies belief. Barely a month goes by that one company or another does not introduce a new “factory” round — most of them merely duplicating what already exists, and almost all eminently forgettable.
How many of these will still be around in five years — that is, chambered in a factory rifle with factory ammunition available — is anyone’s guess. I suspect not many. Most will have gone to their reward like the so-called “short magnums” that proliferated 15 or 20 years ago. A couple are still around, but not exactly robust; the others have wandered off into oblivion.
This would not matter, were it not for the fact that a few people bought the rifles and are now unable to obtain ammunition. For one or two, even brass for reloading sells at a stiff premium, if you can find it at all.
For the past 50 years, at least, everyone from gun writers to professional hunters have been warning prospective safari clients that it is very risky to go to Africa with a rifle chambered for a wildcat cartridge. Now, the same can be said for many of these new factory wunderkind.
There are several dangers. With a wildcat, where a cartridge is formed from another case with a different headstamp, your ammunition will not match your rifle. Some African countries have very specific regulations about the amount of ammunition you can take in, and a few stipulate that it must match your own firearm. This came about, I think, because clients used to bring in hard-to-get ammunition, like .416 Rigby or .4709 NE, for their PH, even if they did not have such a rifle themselves.
Whatever the reason, I have had customs officials examine every single round of ammunition, trying to match the headstamp to the caliber mark on the rifle barrel.
Another, and greater, danger is that your ammunition will get lost in transit, and you will have to try to obtain some locally, or else use a borrowed rifle on your very expensive African trip. There are very, very few cartridges that are readily available in African countries, especially those with a limited safari industry. The ‘A’ list includes .30-06, .303 British, .308 Winchester, and .458 Winchester Magnum; on the ‘B’ list are the 7mm Remington Magnum, .300 Winchester Magnum, and .270 Winchester.
Depending on the country, you might find some European calibers like the 8×57 or 7×57, but I wouldn’t count on it.
Finally, there is always the danger of running into some restriction regarding the importation of “military” calibers. This particular problem has been around for more than a century, beginning in (I believe) some British colonies, such as Sudan, where after 1905 you could not import anything in .450 or, later, in .303 British. Today, in countries where poaching is rampant and the rifles used are generally AK-47s or FN-FALs, there might be a prohibition on 7.62×39 or .308 Winchester — the latter because it is the same cartridge as the 7.62×51 NATO.
Obviously, the place to start in deciding what to bring on safari is to talk with your professional hunter right at the beginning, and stay in touch with him until your day of departure. Regulations change, often, seemingly, at the whim of some official who thinks he knows more than he does.
There is a final consideration which has nothing to do with legality and everything to do with taste and values. Twenty years ago, during the heyday of custom-rifle making, clients spending ten or twelve grand for a custom rifle almost always stipulated that it be a .30-06, .270 Winchester, or something similar. Today, when these rifles come up for sale at auction, anything in an unusual caliber, whether it is a wildcat, a short-lived wunderkind, or an oddball like the 7mm STW, brings considerably less money.
Classic rifles, which these are, demand classic cartridges. Fortunately, it is the classic cartridges (.30-06 et al) which are recognizable to customs officials, and which can be found in most parts of Africa.
Now, you may ask: Where does the 6.5 Creedmoor fit in? It is, right now, the hottest cartridge extant, billed as the finest round since the .30-06 for everything from long-range target shooting to hunting in thick brush. You might be able to find some, in some parts of Africa, but I wouldn’t depend on it. And anyway, practically speaking, what will it do that the .270 Winchester or .30-06 will not? The short answer is, little or nothing. It is still best to stick with the classics.[/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=” View article in E-ZINE” color=”chino” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fapr-may-june-2019%2F%23africa-hunting-gazette%2F118-119||target:%20_blank|”][/vc_column][/vc_row]
“You have just taken one of the Tiny Ten,” said Arnold.
“What is that?” I asked, somewhat disinterested. My PH Arnold Claasson and I were traveling back from our vaalie hunt in the mountains near the town of Graaf-Reinet in the South African Karoo. I had just achieved a many-decades’ goal of taking my dream animal, the vaalie (Vaal rhebok). Arnold explained that this category included members of Southern African pygmy antelope, and that not only had I collected the first of these, but the main Blaauwkrantz Safaris property we were speeding towards was an excellent place to get at least three more Tiny Tenners.
However, I was obsessed with the thought of my second-most desired trophy, a zebra, and a tiny ten candidate did not have much appeal.
Fast forward three days and hunting on the marvelous 100,000-plus acres near Port Elizabeth had already netted a Burchell’s zebra, a huge Eastern Cape kudu, a large mountain reedbuck, and a very nice red hartebeest. Sometime during the collection of these wonderful trophies, I had decided to change my aim at creatures that could run me over, rip me apart, stomp me into a puddle, or even give me a nasty scratch, and rather focus on the Tiny Ten.
Encouraged by the incessant remarks from the three PHs to take more Pygmy antelopes, I think that the final incentive was the thrill I experienced as I watched my first klipspringers, or (“klippies”) , seemingly dance across the slopes in the mountainous. I was mesmerized.
One of the highlights of my safari was driving about and walking around the mountains. More than once we were almost blown out of them by gale-force winds, and the weather, like in all mountainous areas around the world, could change in a heartbeat from pleasant to ugly and back again. But, I loved the harsh look of the mountains, so different from the thick, nasty chaparral-esque vegetation found lower down. So, as we headed back up the seriously rough road in Arnold’s 4×4 pick-up, I could feel my spirits lifting.
We had almost reached the highest ridge when we spotted the little antelope that had held me entranced earlier in the hunt – a group of klippies. One of the little animals was a beautiful male whose horns even I could see.
We stopped, jumped down, and Arnold quickly got me on the rest.
“Remember, BEHIND the shoulder or you’ll damage the skin!” he said quietly. I was shooting my 7mm Remington Magnum with 175-grain Nosler Partitions. I was expecting that by careful shot placement there would be little damage to the tiny animal. (Note to all who will hunt Pygmy antelope: Use solids only!). At my shot, the little form was lifted off the rock on which he was perched and tumbled down the rocky slope. We found him at once and examined his skin. Arnold turned to me, and said quietly, “Did I not say ‘behind the shoulder’?”
It seems the male had been quartering ever-so-slightly away and my ‘behind-the-shoulder’ only worked for the on-shoulder. The off-side, on the other hand, resembled the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. As I was starting to freak out at the mess I’d made, Arnold added, “Your whole mount of the klippie won’t be on a rotating stand, so just put the off-shoulder toward the wall.”
We took photos and enjoyed the Eastern Cape high country while our tracker Neville field-dressed the little animal. As we jostled back down to the rough track, I realized I was hooked.
The following morning we headed out, but this time keeping to the lowlands to look for duiker and grysbok. I pondered on what might keep these two at low elevations, while klippies and vaalies remained higher. Regardless, hunting them would be very different. Because of the impenetrable lowland vegetation, instead of spot-and-stalking, we would either “lamp” (spotlight) them at night, or call them in daylight. (Night hunting with a light source is wildly illegal in my home country, but lamping is accepted in many African countries, especially for collecting largely nocturnal species.)
We started off looking for grey duiker during daylight hours, with Arnold using an inexpensive varmint call to lure the animals into the open – a brilliant way to be able to check the gender, as well as the horn dimensions on the males. Though the morning and afternoon hunts saw Arnold successfully call in a number of duikers, none of the males reached his self-imposed minimum length of 4½ inches. A number of times I readied myself on the bipod rest, but, “We can do better,” Arnold would whisper.
I didn’t mind not collecting the beautiful little brown animal on that day, captivated as I was by my first hunting experience involving calling. Watching the duikers dashing across the landscape from one patch of vegetation to another, or crossing large open areas just to reach the source of the call was another highlight. Some of these pygmy antelope ventured several hundred yards to investigate the sound. Several came within bayonet range, while others stopped 30-ish yards away from our stands.
Arnold turned his attention to organizing a pre-dinner lamping expedition: the goal was to collect a trophy grysbok. I was excited at the thought of collecting a new species with a new hunting method. Arnold wanted at least 2½ inch horns with good bases, and I was reassured that we had still many nights to hunt and, most importantly, Arnold and our trackers, Jambo and Neville, were excellent.
Once night had fallen, we headed along the rough trail to an area of mixed lowland shrub bordered by open plains. Jambo held the spotlight, with Arnold and me on either side of him. The spotlight beam had to be kept even with the rifle’s action, otherwise the shooter would see only a bright glare from the light shining into the ocular end of their scope. As we went down the track with Jambo continually shifting the beam from left to right, a little form jogged into the beam and stayed just in front of us. It was a Cape grysbok female. We kept up the South African version of the “slow-chase” for about 100 yards, till the little animal finally trotted off into the vegetation.
Our light also caught a Cape fox and a grey duiker, but both were safe – the former needing a permit we did not possess, and the latter to be focused on in daylight. Because I was having such a wonderful time seeing the creatures and countryside in the lamp’s beam, I was almost sorry that it ended so quickly. But within 30 minutes Jambo quietly signaled for us to stop. He was holding the beam on a diminutive shape at the edge of a stand of trees and bushes.
Arnold raised his binoculars as they got me situated on the rest. The animal was turned sideways, necessary to be able to judge the horns. Grysbok’s ears are dark along the inner edge, which can give the impression of horns on females if they are facing you.
As I found the pygmy antelope in my field of view, my reticles were sharp in the lamplight. “That’s your animal,” whispered Arnold. I made certain that my crosshairs were behind the “on” shoulder. I lost him in the recoil and chambered another round as I readjusted my sight picture. He was not there, and I turned to Jambo and Arnold.
“He’s down,” Arnold said. I breathed a sigh of relief and a prayer of thanks.
However…
Yep, I’d done it again! Shooting behind the shoulder on what I saw as an animal standing at a 90o angle to my rifle barrel had resulted in a meat-grinder effect on the off-shoulder of the grysbok that was quartering away. Arnold’s encouraging, “Hey, at least this one was facing the opposite direction relative to the Klippie, so you can have them mounted gazing at one another,” fell on less than amused ears. He was right again. Only one side would be visible on the wall mount. Remember: use solids, use solids, use solids on pygmy antelope!”
Three of the four Tiny Tens were in the salt, and the next morning broke with a particularly bright halo. We headed back out to try and call in a mature trophy duiker. I had no idea what the SCI awards were before my hunt. I just wanted to experience Africa. I did not have ‘award-level’ goals but fortunately, Arnold knew what mature animals were, and that was what we hunted.
As we walked from the truck through the chaparral-like habitat and scrabbled across the slope, Arnold pointed down at a rusted horseshoe.
“That’s from the ‘English War’”. When queried, he clarified that that was what is generally known as ‘The Boer War’. I love historical artifacts, so with his permission I took it. We finally arrived at the target of our hike, an open hillside where we had a commanding view of a valley and the hillside opposite. Before the calling began, we spotted a nice nyala bull and a kudu bull and cow across the valley, browsing on the opposite slope.
Arnold blew only twice through his call, when we heard a crashing noise in the brush in the valley. Fortunately, I had already placed my rifle on the bipod before a duiker bolted from the underbrush.
“That’s your ram,” Arnold whispered.
“How far?” I asked as I aimed.
“He seen us, shoot!” At the shot, the little form collapsed.
“Let’s go collect him,” said my never-flustered PH. As the photos were posed, I sat cradling the little ram’s chin, and realized that Arnold, Jambo and Neville had accomplished a transformation: In the span of one safari they had changed a novice African hunter into a glassy-eyed fanatic, one intent on returning as many times as possible to succeed in collecting the remaining marvelous species making up the Tiny Ten.
Michael Arnold is a Distinguished Research Professor in the Department of Genetics, University of Georgia, USA. He is also a hunter, albeit with the occasional mishap! He is passionate about the shooting sports (especially hunting) and writing about said sports. [/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”chino” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fapr-may-june-2019%2F%23africa-hunting-gazette%2F74-75||target:%20_blank|”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_masonry_media_grid grid_id=”vc_gid:1556115038611-cb3f91f2-ac98-3″ include=”21260,21261,21262″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
Dangerous-game Hunting – not just for “Real Men” By Bill Head
Uninitiated Americans often see African adventure through images of fictionalized rough and dirty “Real Men” like John Wayne (Hatari) or Robert Redford (Out of Africa). I did. But frankly, guys do not go to Africa and find lonely heiresses or rope rhinos.
Merely an ordinary deer hunter, I made my first safari to the Karoo, hunting for kudu and oryx from a comfortable, cliff-based 5-Star chalet with a chef. I ignored warnings that once you go, Africa gets into your head. But beware – it does!
Upon arrival in Windhoek, I was told that “my” buffalo permit might not be available, but Jamy Traut thought he could convince a local chief to find an extra. I need not have worried.
My primary quest was to hunt Cape buffalo with a .416 Taylor. That wildcat was developed by Bob Chatfield-Taylor to get .416 Rigby performance out of standard-length brass. The escapades of the caliber were made famous by John Wootters, an adventurous outdoor writer best known for his Whitetail books. I met John and his wife Jeanie when introduced by former NRA Director Bob Bear. I saw the most magnificent buffalo trophy mounted above John’s stone fireplace. I followed John to his workshop where there were two more trophies, both even bigger. Almost drooling with admiration at their size, I said. “No matter what gun you used, the hole in the end of the barrel just would not be big enough.” John handed me a cartridge. “Yes, it is. It’s a .416 Taylor.” My .375 H&H now appeared smallish compared with the fat .400-grain cartridge I held.
Immediately I promised John I would take a .416 Taylor to Africa. MG Arms converted my 7 Mag, LH, Win CRF M70. John offered his original reamer and whatever else was needed. Kerry O’Day barreled the action, truing it, adding sights and barrel band, bedding the stock with extra epoxy here and there. I installed a mercury recoil reducer and a Weaver 30mm, 1-5 illuminated scope. When sighting from an unweighted Lead Sled, the Taylor produced better than half-inch groups with 350 Barnes TSX loads that Kerry recommended. In 2013 at the January 2013 Dallas Safari Club convention, I formally booked an October 2013 Caprivi hunt with Jamy Traut. Unfortunately, John died just three weeks later – he would share my adventure from a loftier location.
I first saw the Caprivi when trekking by Land Cruiser to a remote camp. We saw hundreds of elephants in Botswana, across the Chobe River. While there, chasing elephant, buffalo, croc, hippo and red lechwe, I became obsessed with getting a large croc, and spent many fruitless days hunting them. Then a week after I left, a 14-year-old girl with a 7-08 took a 14.5 foot croc from “my” blind!
While chasing rogue elephant we spotted a large buffalo herd on an island in the Chobe west of Kasane, claimed that day by active Botswana military in small gunboats. There were a couple of wide-horned hard-bossed Daggas there. Alas, the river was a boundary for nations, a national park, and ethical sportsmen. I hoped the herd would swim north as others had done to escape the overgrazed Chobe Park, but the island held enough forage to last longer than my hunt. I had a buff permit in hand, which was why I booked with Jamy in the first place, though a friend who went south for Namibian leopard leaving me his croc permit. So I was now in a dilemma – croc, or buff, or both.
Jamy suggested we scout buffalo in between the long time spent in two different blinds waiting for the “right” croc. At 115 degrees it was too hot anyway to read my new book about some “Horn” written by a gin-drinking New Yorker. Five days later we were onto a herd of about 150 free-range buffaloes. We walked after them for miles. The sandy, grassless soil on that island was blinding bright with reflective heat hot enough to cook a shoe with you still in it. Around mid-day, the herd lay down under some small bushes that still had a few brown leaves. We flanked the main body but came onto a fringe group resting in and among some other low brush we had not seen while making our approach. We were on a slight rise of an eroded sand dune. No wind. The fringe group, BB gun close, did not move or care. We could see on the very opposite edge of the herd, with sizable cows and young bulls, a rather nice, big, Dagga Boy. He knew we were there. Like a ghost, day in and out he knew, appearing then disappearing only to reappear always at the back of the main group.
That black, mudless, birdless, ghost of a herd bull kept at least one or two cows and a few calves between us. At the distance from me on the low dune to him, maybe only 80 to 100 yards, I set up a few times to take a shot, but nothing. He moved only when the cows moved. The cows moved only when the calves moved too far. Frustratingly, no clear shot could be made. This game went on for hot day after hot day as the herd kept moving, crossing water-filled channels seemingly in a grand circle. Terrain and cover varied on each island, or channel bank. Finally, one night a fisherman came to our tented camp to report that a large herd had moved to a nearby island. He was nervous about their proximity to his hut and those of his village.
Early arrival found us within sight of the back of a westward-moving column. It appeared to be the group we had spent the last several days following. My ghost bull would surely be there, but with 298 extra eyes. These buffalo were way out in the open with plenty of grass to eat, safe from the approach of lions. Worse, the fisherman’s island was pretty bare. Practically no trees, brush or cover existed away from the small village, except for that terrible short sword grass. About a flat as the Makgadikgadi Salt Pans, of Botswana, there was one low relief river meander that crossed about two-thirds of the distance to the buffalo. The minute I saw the setup I knew we would soon be crawling. Crawling is a skill that you need to hunt Africa if you leave your Land Cruiser. Being a masochist helps too. “PH Crawling” is a duck-walk then a butt-n-scoot, then a belly slither. None of it is fun or easy. In the heat I was running out of my most important advantage – attitude.
In Dallas I had told Jamy that I would carry my 10.5 lb Taylor the first 100 miles. On Day 11, at about mile 88, I gave in and handed the rifle to a 20-year-old skinner companion. Four hundred yards later he handed it back for my crawl with Jamy.
Off we went single file at a walk, then a bent-over sneak, then the duck, the butt, and finally the belly. Even though the morning sun was behind us, the blistering heat from the previous day was in that darn grass and in my face and hands. We crawled on and on. In the warm grass it was like standing over the slow heat of a Texas branding fire while waiting for the first spring calf. Jamy, sensing I was not having a great time, whispered jokes and stopped to calibrate the herd’s movement. We were on an intersect vector. Then a mild breeze and the little evaporating dew refreshed the grass – the sweet smell a devil’s lure to go on. We waited to measure wind from where to where. I lay there. “One whiff, and that ghost will know it’s me, and spook,” I thought.
Now, with a steady breeze in our faces, we crawled again. I swore a bit too much at myself. We got within 50 yards of the port stern of a westbound mass of indistinguishable black bodies with a sea of moving legs. Lying there, we whispered about seeing three or four shooters. Jamy commented that the big boy was again at the back. At this point, if I had two permits I would have been tempted to cheat and send a solid through a cow to get him. Of course, Jamy would never hunt with me again if I did. For just a second we would see a glimpse of the big boy’s shoulder or a hump. Cows would be grazing in front and behind. No real moving. Just ever so slow feeding with a lot of heads up and down, always looking. No alarm.
One of the shooters paraded over to check us out. A desirable #2, he was possibly demonstrating that he did not trust whatever was lying on the ground. Although the bull was pawing and snorting, Jamy ignored him, as did the ghost and most of the herd. “Is he worth taking,” I asked. “Do you owe him money?” Jamy laughed. “Wait, and we might get an opening on the bigger guy.”
Waiting seemed endless. Sword grass started to smell like dry, hot, dusty hay, and the herd began to walk a bit, tightening up, wary. The middle-aged, hard-bossed #2 was getting closer and closer. At about 25 yards, he picked up his tempo and lowered his head, bellowing.
Aware that the herd was about to move off and that my persistence was waning, (and not really wanting his client to get stomped), Jamy said that if the snort-and-head-bouncer got any closer, it was OK to shoot #2 before he got real determined. Oh, really?
Number two snorted convincingly. “OK, Now!” I heard Jamy’s whisper. Still prone, I placed a 350 Barnes TSX into the high heart, near the right inside shoulder, quartering upward back somewhere. I did not feel recoil. The buffalo ran in two tight circles then fell over. I elbowed up to send another, but Jamy stopped me. “Well done.” The ghost and his herd stampeded off, but only by about 300 yards, then went back to grazing. Our game scout ran over. “Sniper!” he congratulated me.
We cautiously approached the buffalo to give an insurance shot, but Jamy said it was not needed. I was just grateful I would not have to crawl any more. We stopped for the usual pictures while a small crew from the village came with a cart to collect some meat.
I had accomplished what I had promised John Wootters I would do – hunt Cape buffalo in Africa with a .416 Taylor, though I was sorry not to be able to tell him my version of the hunt. I am not disappointed in the horn size or boss, just that an incredible adventure was over. However, I would have liked to get a clear shot at the ghost. I will to go back, at a cooler time, with better mental stamina and, of course, with another rifle project.
Bill is a conservationist, scientist, and rancher/farmer. He started hunting as a teenager with a Sears 22. The rifle and the hunting process was always the attraction. Currently a contributing editor to World Oil Magazine, Bill works with his wife on education projects in Namibia. As a senior technologist, he has worked over 40 years in U.S. and international research, oil and gas exploration, and production. Bill has been instrumental in several new international ventures, coordinating local and global operations, and has managed one of the petroleum industry’s largest computer facilities.[/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=” View article in E-ZINE” color=”chino” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fapr-may-june-2019%2F%23africa-hunting-gazette%2F66-67||target:%20_blank|”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_masonry_media_grid grid_id=”vc_gid:1556113505406-cd14f4f8-2421-7″ include=”21253,21254,21255″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
In October 2017, I got an offer for an all-inclusive hunt for free-range Cape buffalo in Mozambique. The old-fashioned, one-on-one, track, stalk and hunt in the bush.
I had originally met Roche and his wife Ansu in 2017 at an outdoor show in Harrisburg, and had booked a September 2018 plains and buffalo hunt and photo safari with Roche Safaris in South Africa for my wife and I. I hoped to hunt kudu, gemsbok, impala and nyala, followed by a photo safari through the Kruger National Park. Then out of the blue, Roche offered me an end-of-the-year, 2017, all-inclusive hunt in Mozambique with all permits! I had just enough time for him to apply, and I could still make a 10-day hunt before the season closed on 30 November. I was already on vacation for the deer season, and everything just fell into place. We had all kinds of plans and relatives coming in for Thanksgiving, but my wife said that I couldn’t pass up this opportunity, and to go…
Am I lucky or what! She knew that Cape buffalo was on my bucket list, but I never expected a free-range hunt was in my future. All I had to do was get from Pittsburgh to JFK airport in New York.
Fast forward to Mozambique: We started hunting at daybreak, but didn’t see any bull tracks that we could follow. The next couple of days we jumped buffalo in the thick thorny bush two mornings in a row, and walked up on a herd just before dark on the second evening, but could not get on a good bull before dark. Talk about excitement! We paralleled those buffalo in the bush at 50 yards for 30 minutes and set up for a shot several times. It was almost dark, before a huge cow decided to spook the herd. That old adage that a buffalo looks at you like you owe it money is the truth.
I got my buffalo on the third evening (the day before Thanksgiving) using a Ruger guide gun in .375 Ruger, shooting hand loads using 300-grain Swift A Frame bullets and Hornady factory solids. The first shot at 36 yards put him down, and we ran up and I put two more in him to make sure he stayed down. My PH said that the bull would probably be close to 1.2 ton in weight. What a monster! His horns taped 44½ inches across and he had 14½ inch-wide bosses. The next day Roche told me that with him I had killed the biggest buffalo in 10 years, and his wife said it was the highlight of his career. In the three days that I hunted we tracked and hiked a total of 24 miles in 90+F degree heat. (32+C)
All the meat was donated to a couple of villages, the camp staff, and the guards and village at the Mozambique border. No meat is allowed to be exported, and my Cape buffalo hide and horns would only be exported after a few months of quarantine, a process they call dip and ship, to be sure all possible diseases were eradicated.
We stayed in Mozambique and explored the countryside for another three days, visited several villages, and saw a zebra that thought he was a donkey! The day after I shot the buffalo, Roche had wanted to explore some new territory for leopard and crocodiles. We drove for about two hours through the back country to another farm along a river. We found a caretaker, and as our trackers were translating the Portuguese conversation, a zebra came out of the bush about 100 meters from us. Roche asked if we would be allowed to take it. The caretaker said no, that the owner liked this zebra which had started hanging around his donkeys. Suddenly three donkeys appeared, and started in our direction. In just a few minutes the donkeys and zebra were within 20 meters of the truck, completely unafraid, and I got some great pictures. Zebra was not on my list, but I was glad for the opportunity just to see one.
After our Mozambique visit we returned to Roche’s lodge in South Africa where he has a great staff that wait on you hand and foot and are always eager to please. Roche took me to Kruger National park on a photo safari. It’s got to be the world’s best natural zoo, and we saw almost everything, from rhino to warthogs right next to the vehicle, but no big cats.
Other than some squirrel hunting, I gave up my deer season that year, but it was worth it. How can you compare a deer hunt with a buffalo?
Vance grew up in the farm country of western Pennsylvania about 35 miles northwest of Pittsburgh. He was taught how to hunt, trap and fish by his father, Harwood Squires who grew up on farms in central West Virginia. Vance actually started hunting when he was 12 years old, and shot his first whitetail buck when at 16. He and his wife of 42 years now live in Chester, West Virginia. Vance has hunted and fished in Quebec and Ontario, Canada, hunted in Newfoundland Canada for woodland caribou and moose, and in some of the western states for deer, elk, and pronghorn antelope.He has a life membership in the NRA as well as belonging to other sportsmen organizations, and is the leading instructor for Hunter Education for his county.[/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”chino” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fapr-may-june-2019%2F%23africa-hunting-gazette%2F58-59||target:%20_blank|”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_masonry_media_grid grid_id=”vc_gid:1556113031145-19fb1411-ba87-2″ include=”21245,21248″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
I am sitting at my computer on a cold Canadian winter’s day trying to recall every minute of our first African hunt. I am inspired by the pictures of our African adventures that adorn the walls, and refer to details from the journal and photo book from our first hunting adventure. That was six years ago…
My wife Carole and I had been on photo safari in Namibia with Louw van Zyl, owner of Track a Trail Safaris as our tour guide. Springbok and impala were the most common animals we saw, and the beautiful markings of these small antelope really inspired us to have them as our first trophies in our living room. Because they were so abundant we assumed we could find a hunting package that included both, and we wanted to hunt with Louw as our PH.
Impala, kudu, gemsbok and warthog were included in Louw’s standard package, but not springbok. Springbok had not been available on the property for several years previously as cheetah were getting under the game fence and had decimated the population. However,
Stephan Jacobs, PH and owner of Aandster Farm where my brother Duane and I would hunt, told Louw we could take a couple of springbok rams for the trophy price or exchange one of the animals in the package. The problem was remedied!
After being close to many fine springbok and impala rams in Etosha National Park we assumed it would be easy to bag trophies of both. We were in for a surprise! Unlike the animals in Etosha that are undisturbed along the roads and at the waterholes, springbok and impala are extremely wary in areas where they are hunted. It took a lot of spotting and careful stalking to get within range, because both species favour open grassland habitats and depend on their exceptional eyesight to avoid predators. Pronghorn in the southern part of Alberta, Canada are reputed to have eyesight equivalent to a person with ten power binoculars. After spending a week trying to get close to springbok and impala, I am convinced that their eyesight is as good!
Aandster Farm in northeastern Namibia is an area of ancient, low-relief sand dunes that have been stabilised for centuries. Much of the land is forested with small trees and dense, thorny scrub. A few old cultivated fields have reverted to open grassland savanna which is maintained in places by periodic burning.
Seven local families work on the game farm and tend livestock on the surrounding Aandster properties.
High fences serve to keep game animals from straying to adjacent livestock properties and help to keep predators and diseases out.
Hunting at Aandster was a thrill. Whether it was spot and stalk in the hunt for springbok and impala, or following Joseph, our gifted Bushman tracker looking for kudu and gemsbok in the thick bush, it was always a challenge.
Much time was spent following Joseph as we hunted kudu in the thick bush. I glassed the open areas with my Bushnell Custom Compact binoculars, and mostly saw springbok and impala. Often their eyes were upon us as we looked at them! But the slightest movement from us had them on the move. Both species, particularly the older rams stayed well away from cover, and wind direction was a problem – on our first attempts we either ran out of cover or were betrayed by a shifting breeze.
Then our luck improved. A small group of springbok with one good ram grazed some distance from the main herd. They looked close enough to the edge of the field to attempt a shot if we were successful with a stalk. We drove about four miles, parked a mile downwind, and began a stalk through the bush. Keeping to the thick cover we got within about 500 yards. From there it was a cautious sneak from one clump of brush to the next every time the herd faced away. At 280 yards, cover was running out, so Louw got me on the shooting sticks.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“It’s a very small target at that distance,” I said.
Gambling on one final sneak we managed to get behind the last shrub, but were still 240 yards away. It was either try a shot or forget it. Back on the sticks I peered through the scope of the .300 Winchester Magnum, following the ram, watching for an open shot. He was always surrounded by ewes and smaller animals. At one point he lay down behind a tree with only his rump showing. I was on the sticks for about twenty minutes, but it seemed like an eternity.
Relaxing in front of the lodge with guest cottages in the background. From the left Duane, Louw and Carole.
While the ram was behind the tree I started shaking so badly that I could not keep the crosshairs on him. I raised my head and took a few deep breaths. Whether I had buck fever or simply could not hold the rifle steady for that long, I do not know. (Almost 60 years ago when I shot my first Canada Goose I definitely had buck fever, but not until after the shooting was over! I still remember hunkering back in the blind with my goose by my side. I was happy but shaking so badly that if another flock had come within range I would have had trouble holding my shotgun. Some memories of magical moments last forever.)
Finally, the ram stood up. With my PH, tracker and my brother for an audience, the pressure was on.
“Make sure the ram is clear of the ewes before you shoot,” Louw kept saying. “Allow an inch for the distance and an inch to the right for wind,” he advised. “The kill zone of a springbok is the size of a saucer.”
At 240 yards I was not convinced I could hit that, let alone by adjusting an inch. You cannot believe the relief I felt when I squeezed the trigger and heard the bullet hit. The ram tried to run with the others, but dropped after eighty yards. With the grassland savanna and a clear Namibian sky as a backdrop I happily posed with my trophy.
A few days later as we casually watched giraffe and a herd of eland from a tree stand, springbok appeared in a burned area a long way off. On the chance that there might be a good ram, my brother and Louw started a long stalk, and I followed far behind. Duane dropped a nice ram with one shot. The springbok has a patch of long white hairs concealed in the brown hair along the back, and when they are alarmed, the white hairs stand erect. Sometimes these hairs lift for a few minutes after an animal dies, and we captured that on photos.
Hunting two on one with Louw, it was my brother’s turn to carry the rifle when we spotted a herd of impala with a good ram. Once more, a long drive got us downwind, and our stalk through open woodland had fair visibility but still plenty of cover. Out of nowhere, impala were suddenly bounding though the bush. We dropped to the ground hoping to be less conspicuous, but I thought the impala had scented us and that was the end of this stalk. But soon the herd was bounding back the other way, only to turn around and repeat the performance. It was just the youngsters playing – what a thrilling sight. Then Louw pointed out a good ram walking toward us, and Duane made a great kneeling shot as it angled away.
It was day six before I got a chance at an impala. Tracking kudu through thick Kalahari Apple-leaf trees we came to the edge of an open field. As the afternoon shadows lengthened we spotted impala grazing with a herd of blue wildebeest far across the field, and Joseph’s sharp eyes picked out a good ram that I could not see!
A long circular stalk of more than a mile got us downwind on the other side of the field. Carefully peeking through the last cover, Louw pointed out the fine ram in the middle of the wildebeest. It was walking slowly, grazing, and with its head down only the top of its back was visible over the low shrub.
I was on the sticks following the impala through the scope and hoping for a shot where I would avoid hitting a wildebeest. After a few minutes, there were no animals behind, but the two in front prevented a shot. Finally, one of the wildebeest moved enough so I could see the spine of the impala just behind the front shoulder. I squeezed the trigger and he dropped on the spot. Louw radioed for the truck and we set up my trophy impala for a few quick photos as the light faded.
The author with a springbok ram on the grassland savanna, Aandster 2012.
Aandster is a great place for those wishing to experience rural life in a remote part of Namibia. Grootfontein, the nearest town is about a two-hour drive. The farm and lodge are totally off grid. Hot water is provided by wood-fired boilers. Lights and freezers run on solar power. Seven native families live and work on the game farm and tend livestock on the adjoining Aandster properties. The native staff from the skinning shed also worked in the machine shop helping to maintain and repair heavy equipment – self-sufficiency is essential when you live that far from services, and everyone learns to be a jack of all trades. Home schooling is the norm for younger children. Those in the upper grades spend the week in Grootfontein and come home for the weekend.
Carole and I had our own private cabin with all the amenities, and evening routine was sipping a glass of Amarula and ice while Louw cooked steaks on the open fire. It was a treat to eat what we shot, blue wildebeest being our favorite.
And now, Africa beckons once more. Carole and I are planning our fifth trip.
Although Aandster is surrounded by a high fence, and some readers might comment that it is only 6,000 ha, I can assure anyone who has not hunted a high-fenced area that is every bit as challenging as hunting in the Canadian arctic where there is not a fence or road for a thousand miles. In 10 days of hunting we never saw an animal near the fence. It would have been impossible to drive an animal toward the fence with two hunters, a PH and tracker. Perhaps if 20 or more beaters were sent through the bush, a hunter could stand along the fence and wait for a shot, but unlikely as that would be, it would be as unethical as shooting from the vehicle, a practice totally taboo at Aandster.
Duane with his springbok displaying the long erect white hairs along its back, Aandster 2012.
Bio
Retired after 40 years in parks and conservation, Archie Landals has hunted for as long as he can remember. He has hunted across his native Alberta, Canada as well as New Zealand, Namibia, South Africa, the western United States and the Canadian Arctic. In 2013 he was awarded the Queen Elizabeth II Diamond Jubilee Medal for his work in conservation. Along with his wife Carole he spends a lot of time in their rustic cabin enjoying the solitude of the Boreal Forest.
We were in the bush with good men tracking the most dangerous animal in the world to hunt – the Cape buffalo. Though Sandy and I were soaked with sweat, we loved every minute of it.
Our plan was to hunt an old Cape buffalo cow in the Lowveld. We would sneak up close enough to get a good shoulder shot, I would do the shooting, my wife Sandy would do the videoing, and Pieter Kriel of Mkulu Safaris would do all the work. It was a good plan!
North of the Olifants River near Phalaborwa there is a lot of mopani bushveld, plus some nice big, rolling open areas, with kopjes surrounded by glacier-strewn boulders. The buffalo were in the mopani bush and you have to go in and find them.
The trees were widely spaced and we could see in any direction for about 100 yards – but so could the buffalo. The dry ground was covered with noisy leaves that were blown into serpentine piles. It was mostly flat land, with some ancient dry river channels. Mopane bushveld is exciting to hunt in. The tricky part is that the moody spring winds move through the trees from every direction.
We couldn’t have asked for a better safari crew. The two trackers, Samuel and Peter were good-spirited and on the ball. The outfitter and PH, Pieter Kriel and the back-up PH, Johan were real professionals, focused, able, and considerate. What’s more they loved the bush. And our cook, Michael, was awesome.
We would ride in the back of the hunting vehicle checking for spoor and watching for a herd. Johan was good with spoor, and he kept his eyes on the sandy ground as we drove slowly along, while Samuel checked deep into the bush for a glimpse of a herd. When one of them spotted something promising, we’d leave the truck. We wanted a herd with many cows.
If the spoor was good with lots of cow sign, we would start tracking. We repeated this several times a day for three days and never got close enough to a herd for a good shot at an old cow. It was hard work and the buffalo were easily spooked in the shifting wind.
Late morning of the fourth day we stopped for a break.
“We have been following two herds,” Pieter said. “One was mostly bulls and they moved east through here early this morning. Another herd with a good cow population grazed through recently. Maybe an hour ago. They are moving towards water.”
“The easiest spoor to read is the droppings. Cow droppings pile up like this,” Johan pointed with his rifle barrel. “Bull droppings splatter out. For the last half hour we have been following a smaller herd than before, and there is much less bull manure. This spoor shows plenty of yearlings and cow tracks.”
“You get the time line from the tracks and the dung,” Pieter added. “In this heat the dung dries hard pretty fast, and the wind quickly rubs the edges off the tracks in the dry sandy ground. A while ago some of the spoor we were following was a half-day old. Now all this spoor is very fresh. Two herds.”
At one point, Johan and Samuel were about 14 yards ahead of us, working the tracks and kneeling down to look through the trees for black buffalo legs. Pieter was with Sandy and me when he whispered.
“Did you hear that?”
“What?”
“Did you hear the oxpecker? There it is again. Look, you can see it now.” He pointed to something flickering in the treetops to the north of us more than 100 meters away.
“It’s a Red-Billed Oxpecker,” he said. “Where there is an oxpecker there is usually a buffalo. They eat the ticks and bugs off the buffalo. If I were following a wounded buffalo right now, I would mark this place with some stones, take a deep breath, and follow that oxpecker, because that’s probably where my wounded buffalo would be – circling around to get me!”
Johan and Samuel were still up ahead. When Samuel looked back, Pieter pointed to the oxpecker. The two grinned and nodded in agreement. The decision was to follow the bird.
We were back in the game. Sandy winked at me. No tracks, no droppings. Just an oxpecker in a tree. We began to see more of them fluttering along as we went, while Johan who was in the front would sometimes crouch down and use his binoculars to look under the branches for those buffalo legs.
The bush seemed to be getting denser, then at a waterhole in an open place about 65 yards ahead, even I could clearly hear the oxpeckers. We nudged forward through the branches until I could see our herd of bulls and cows drinking. And red-billed oxpeckers!
We had some good cover and a light breeze in our faces. I could smell the buffalo. The gentle noise from the drinking herd helped cover any noise we made. We reached some good cover within 40 yards of the water. I waited with my rifle on the sticks for Pieter to pick out a perfect old cow.
You know how it feels. Three days of stalking, sometimes frantically trying to get a shot off in time, but mostly just walking, creeping, crouching, and crawling. Now I was resting purposefully on the shooting sticks waiting for Pieter to say,”Are you happy? Take the shot!”
My single shot, break-open rifle, was a .577 NE loaded with the 700-grain Peregrine, Bush Master bullet over 116 grains of N550 powder. I was watching a big old cow through my 1-5 Weaver scope, when Pieter whispered, “Yes, that’s the one! If you’re happy, take the shot.”
The cow was standing at 32 yards with her left side to me and her head up. A bull stood beside her, and when he lowered his head to drink I had just enough room to slip the big slug over the bull’s neck and into the center of the cow’s shoulder. It was five inches above her heart, but it was still a good shoulder shot.
When a buffalo is hit in the shoulder it usually lurches, turns and runs for about 30 yards. But this old cow hardly moved. I saw the bullet hit, I saw the oxpeckers fly off her neck and I saw the bull jump away. For an instant the cow just stood there. As I opened my rifle and reached for another cartridge, she tried to lift her left front leg to take a step and she fell flat on the ground.
The Peregrine Bush Master bullet shattered her shoulder and plowed through her chest. The bullet showed a perfect balance of controlled expansion and penetration.
When we walked up to inspect her, Johan kept his rifle ready and watched the herd that was still close by. “A perfect cow to take out of the herd.” Pieter said, “An old cow, thin and worn out. Just as we planned.”
And above our heads, in the mopani trees we heard the oxpeckers.
Bio
Retired in BC, Canada, Brian recalls that his first formal hunting trip was with his father in 1958, for pronghorn antelope in southern Alberta, Canada. He and his wife Sandy have lived and hunted in some pretty remote places, including the MacKenzie River Valley in Northern Canada. They now spend more time in South Africa. “We keep going back to hunt and explore with our family and grandchildren. I mostly hunt Cape buffalo now.”
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]The zebra is Africa’s most recognizable animal, requiring no description. Although related to both horses and asses and of the same Equus genera, the zebra is found only on the African continent, and evidence that it existed elsewhere in prehistory is unclear. In Africa the zebra is not found continent-wide, nor even close, but it occupies an extremely broad range across East and Southern Africa. There are actually three species of zebra: Plains, mountain, and the Grevy’s zebra; there are, or were, seven races or subspecies of plains zebra and two of mountain zebra; the distinct Grevy’s zebra stands alone.
All zebras are primarily grazers, social animals that form into herds. Typically, these are harems with a dominant male and his mares. With both mountain and plains zebras these are permanent bonds, but Grevy’s zebra groups are temporary, with the males wandering off on their own after a few months. With all zebras, surplus males form bachelor groups. Size of the herds depends on population density and available grass and water; mountain zebras, usually in harsh habitat, are found in smaller groups—twenty is a lot—while plains zebras can form into large herds.
All visitors to Africa want to see this signature animal, and indeed they’re marvels to observe…it doesn’t take long before the seemingly nonsensical stripes make perfect sense: In shadows the zebra’s camouflage is amazing. Even in sunlight the stripes merge and blend…and imagine what a predator, absent color vision, is observing in black-and-white.
I am not a casual visitor in Africa. I love to observe her wildlife, but I make no secret that I am a hunter, always looking with a hunter’s eye. So, with zebras, I am studying the striping patterns and trying to locate the stallion in the group. This is fascinating…and often difficult! I must also make no secret that I enjoy hunting zebras! Sorting the correct animal from the herd is an interesting and sometimes frustrating puzzle. When successful the meat is unusually marbled and fully utilized…and a zebra rug seems almost an essential safari memento!
I do understand that, accepting their resemblance to the horses we love, anti-hunters, many non-hunters, and all too many hunters are shocked by the concept of hunting a zebra. The best answer I have to the question, “How could you possibly kill a zebra?” comes easy: “Only with great difficulty!” We will discuss this, but first we need to get back to this matter of stripes.
BLACK AND WHITE?
The three species and several races of zebras vary in striping patterns, but universally have vertical stripes on the body and horizontal stripes rump and legs. The several plains zebras have stripes all the way to the belly, while the mountain and Grevy’s zebras have a white belly, their vertical stripes stopping short. It’s commonly believed the zebra is a white animal with black stripes, but recent research suggests the opposite: The zebra is a black animal, with white added during development. While some varieties have distinct striping, all are pretty much black and white…except: The mountain zebras have undertones of brown as youngsters that remain on the face in maturity. And several races of plains zebra have noticeable “shadow stripes” between the black and white bands that can be brown, gray, or muted.
So, which zebra are we looking at? There are hybrid zones, and today there are differences between historic native ranges and current distribution. The three species remain pure: At least in the wild, plains zebras, mountain zebras, and Grevy’s zebra do not interbreed! But some of the subspecies, and exactly where they range today, are a bit messy. Relatively little precise DNA work has been done because, after all, a plains zebra is not a mountain zebra…and the endangered Grevy’s zebra is very distinctive. Here’s a rough guide:
PLAINS ZEBRA: The plains zebra is Equus quagga. The type specimen, the quagga, E. q. quagga, became extinct in 1878. Once numerous, the quagga lay squarely in the path of South Africa’s settlement; the last wild quaggas were in Orange Free State. A few skins and photographs of one zoo specimen survive, so we know the quagga had vertical stripes on neck and shoulder and a dark body, perhaps with muted stripes. There are six extant plains zebra races, though not all authorities are in complete agreement.
Most widespread and numerous is the Burchell’s or “common zebra,” E. q. burchelli. This is the zebra most prevalent in South Africa, the southern three-fourths of Namibia, and most of Zimbabwe and Botswana. This zebra has the most prominent shadow striping, although zebra stripes are like fingerprints, no two are exactly alike!
Farther north is the Grant’s zebra, E. q. boehmi, found from Zambia’s Kafue (west of Luangwa) north through western Tanzania and on up into Kenya. This is the zebra I hunted in western Zambia, central Tanzania and Masailand, and southern Kenya. Grant’s zebra is a bit bigger than Burchell’s zebra, with mature stallions weighing up to 700 pounds. The big difference: This zebra lacks shadow stripes and has an extremely beautiful black-and-white skin.
The Selous zebra, E. q. selousi was once widespread in central Mozambique, but we almost lost this one. When hunting resumed after the long civil war there may have been as few as 20 Selous zebras in the Marromeu complex. Today there are more than 500, increasing nicely, with a small hunting quota. This is a smaller zebra, but pure black-and-white. Interestingly, the Selous zebra always has a white spot near the backbone, which is said to be where the striping pattern starts!
The Sudan maneless zebra, E. q. borensis. is the northernmost race of plains zebra. Described as late as 1954 by Tony Henley, then a game ranger and later a famous professional hunter, the maneless zebra does in fact have a very short mane! This zebra occupies a limited range in northwestern Kenya, Uganda’s Karamoja District, and southeastern Sudan. The few photos I have seen suggest a thin, muted shadow stripe, but the maneless zebras I saw in Uganda were in too bright light to confirm or deny this!
Chapman’s zebra, E. q. chapmani, is the zebra of Caprivi, adjacent Botswana and Zimbabwe, and southern Angola. Chapman’s zebra is a large zebra, up to 800 pounds, with shadow stripes much like the Burchell’s zebra. A major difference is younger animals are more brownish than black, and some Chapman’s zebras maintain the brownish tint into maturity.
In northeastern Zambia and on up through Malawi and into southeastern Tanzania the zebras are Crawshay’s zebra, E. q. crawshayi. This is the zebra of the Selous Reserve and adjacent areas. My experience is this a big zebra, generally a black-and-white skin with narrower stripes than other plains zebras…but slight shadow stripes are seen on some individuals.
MOUNTAIN ZEBRA: There are two, the Cape mountain zebra, E. zebra zebra; and Hartmann’s mountain zebra, E. z. hartmannae. The two are geographically separated, with Cape Mountain zebra occupying the smallest range of any zebra, isolated mountain habitats in the Eastern and Western Cape. They are visually indistinguishable, except the Cape mountain zebra is the smallest of all zebras, with big stallions weighing less than 600 pounds. Both varieties have white bellies and vertical body stripes, with brownish tints that usually darken with maturity, except on the face. Mature males of both races have a prominent dewlap, which can be a valuable hint when trying to determine sex. Perhaps the most defining visual characteristic of the mountain zebra is a triangular “Christmas tree” marking above the tail, where short vertical stripes meet horizontal stripes on the rump.
The Cape mountain zebra, is considered endangered and is not importable into the United States, but thanks to game ranching has been brought back from the brink and is increasing. Hartmann’s mountain zebra is naturally found in isolated mountain ranges from central Namibia north to southwestern Angola. Thanks to the game ranching industry Hartmann’s zebra is now widespread throughout much of Namibia, and has been introduced into some properties in South Africa. This could prove a problem; Hartmann’s zebra is much larger than the Cape mountain zebra, and the two subspecies will interbreed.
GREVY’S ZEBRA: To my thinking Grevy’s zebra, E. grevyi (unique species with no subspecies) is the most beautiful of all zebras, sort of a pin-striped zebra, found in northern Kenya, Somalia, and up through Ethiopia to the Danakil Depression. Grevy’s zebra is the largest of all zebras, weighing up to 900 pounds with big ears, more like a wild ass, while the other zebras are more horse-like in appearance. Regrettably, the gorgeous Grevy’s zebra lives in bad neighborhoods and is seriously threatened; as few as 3000 remain in the wild.
CURRENT OPPORTUNITIES
Well, it took me 40 years, but, except for the long-gone quagga, I’ve actually seen all the races of zebra! The only time I’ve seen Grevy’s zebra in the wild was in Ethiopia’s Danakil in 1993; even then they were completely protected. The tide seems to be turning, with the remnant population stable, but it is highly unlikely Grevy’s zebra will ever return to huntable numbers. In March 2017, in Uganda’s Karamoja District, hunting along the boundary of Kidepo National Park, we saw a couple of herds of Sudan maneless zebras. The manes are not quite absent, but clearly not the long, luxurious manes of other zebras. This zebra, too, is protected and has not been hunted since 1983, when hunting in Sudan ground to a halt. The population is stable and probably not endangered, but this zebra’s range is limited so it is definitely vulnerable.
All the other zebras are huntable today, depending primarily on where you are. Burchell’s zebra is, of course, widespread and numerous. Grant’s zebra is the zebra you will hunt in western Zambia, and central and northern Tanzania. You’ll love the black-and-white skin without shadow stripes! In Mozambique’s Marromeu complex the Selous zebra has been brought back from the brink and is hunted. The annual quota is just a handful; you need to speak up well in advance if you want this set of stripes.
Among the zebras, it is probably least clear exactly where Burchell’s zebra stops and Chapman’s zebra takes over. Without question Namibia’s Caprivi (now Zambezi Region) is the best place, and these are pure Chapman’s zebra…but, as with the Selous zebra, the quota is small, so you have to speak up.
In Zambia the Luangwa River is said to be the boundary between Grant’s and Crawshay’s zebra, so this one is fairly simple: You will be hunting Crawshay’s zebra in the Luangwa Valley, and in the Selous and adjacent areas…but Grant’s zebra lies to the west and north.
Thanks to game ranching, permits are available for the small and totally gorgeous Cape mountain zebra…but they cannot be imported into the U.S. The larger Hartmann’s mountain zebra is readily available throughout much of Namibia, also thanks to game ranching. A huge boon to ranchers, mountain zebra and plains zebra don’t interbreed, so today many areas offer both Hartmann’s and plains zebra. I’ve never known anyone who wanted to make a collection of all the zebras. It would be impossible, and also silly: Several are visually indistinguishable. But wherever you are, the “local zebra” offers a good hunt…and a lovely set of stripes!
IT AIN’T THAT EASY
Like I said, you will often obtain that zebra rug only with great difficulty! If you’re a “horse person” or you’ve ever done any horseback hunting you know that equines have all senses tuned and are amazingly aware of their surroundings (if only we could instantly understand what they’re telling us!). Zebras have all this, and more…they are among the wariest of animals in the African bush or, as our PHs like to say, “the most switched on.”
Zebras are extremely difficult to approach and difficult to fool. Unlike some animals, their eyesight is sharp…and their ears and noses are keen. All of this is compounded and conflicted by a simple physiological fact: Zebras are uniquely difficult to sex! It isn’t just that they are absent characteristics like horns or antlers! The stallion’s, er, junk, is very tight between the hind legs. In open ground you might get a glimpse, but in long grass or thornbush habitat, never.
The absolute mandate to shoot only males depends largely on the local population and herd dynamics. There is no shame in taking an older female. Stallions fight viciously, and mares usually have skins that are much less scarred. However, all things equal, in most areas we try to take only stallions. But not always. There is evidence, especially with mountain zebras, that, depending on local population, it can take a long time for a stallion to come into the herd. So, it’s not cut-and-dried, but typically a major hurdle in any zebra hunt is to identify the stallion.
There are many clues. The zebra stallion is generally larger and has a thicker neck; mountain zebra stallions have defined dewlaps. More important is behavior: The stallion can be the leader and will frequently bring up the rear, tending his mares…but he is rarely in the middle.
You have to keep looking, waiting for that glimpse, and take in all the clues. My first Hartmann’s zebra, in then-South West Africa 40 years ago, was in a little valley straight below us…no way to see anything from that angle. We watched for three eternities, and finally took the shot based entirely on behavior. Correct, we took the stallion. Last year, in the Eastern Cape, we had a small herd of Burchell’s zebra feeding and milling below us, it wasn’t straight down, but the brush was up to their bellies, nothing to be seen. We watched and waited; there had to be a stallion, and we thought we knew which one. After a tense hour the most likely candidate turned away…and for just an instant I saw testicles under the tail.
TOUGH STUFF
Legend has it that “all” African game is extremely tough. This is not true…but zebras are very tough! Hit a zebra poorly and you will be in for a long day…with unknown chances for recovery! The books say, depending on the subspecies, mature zebra stallions range from 550 to 900 pounds. Having shot quite a few but properly weighed none, I have no idea, but I figure 700 to 800 pounds is about right. Whatever, it’s a big animal and very strong!
The target area is large, and there is often an upside-down “V” chevron of stripes on the shoulder offering an inviting aiming point. With or without that guide, the middle of the shoulder is the right place, one-third up from the brisket. Center the shoulder with a good bullet that gets in and does its work, and there will be no problems. Flub the shot, and chances for recovery depend only upon the exact location of the hit and good tracking. Over 40-odd years I’ve only seen a couple of zebras lost…but I’ve been on some very long tracking jobs!
Zebras are often taken for lion or leopard bait, which means you need a zebra down now. The best-case scenario is to whack a zebra on the shoulder with a .375, game over. However, I have seen zebras taken very cleanly with mild 6.5mms, 7mms, and .270s; and the great old .30-06 is awesome. But what really matters on zebra is shot placement. You gotta do it right. If you don’t, a lot of extra foot-pounds may not matter. These animals are tough.
Both of my daughters, despite teenage girls’ affinity for horses, put a zebra at the top of their wish lists on their first safaris. (Knock me over with a feather!) When questioned, one said, “Well, my Mom tells me zebras are really tough and hard to hunt, so it sounds interesting.” Unsolicited, both copped to the real reason: “Well, I’d really like a zebra rug for my room.” Fair enough, who doesn’t?
Only partly joking, wife Donna has often said, “No girl has too many zebras.” This has created a monster. She has nine nieces…and each one now wants a zebra skin, whether as a wedding or graduation present. We’ve covered some of them, but not all. At least I have an excuse to keep hunting!
THE BEST HUNT
Difficulty always depends on terrain, vegetation, numbers of animals, the wind…and blind luck! Once in while a zebra rug comes easy with a quick shot…but not very often. Usually a few blown stalks and serious scrambling are needed. Honest, it’s all good…but the most enjoyable zebra hunting I’ve done has been Hartmann’s zebra in native habitat in Namibia’s rocky ridges, truly a magic hunt.
Like I said, the first time was 40 years ago, in a time when game ranching was in its infancy and mountain zebras at their nadir. Ben Nolte and I climbed to the top of the Erongo Mountains, following intermittent tracks and hearing their whistles. We got right on top of them among knife-edge ridges, a magic experience.
Since then I’ve done it many more times, certainly not all with me as shooter (after all, how many rugs do I need?). The mountain zebra in native terrain offers a real hunt, and a real mountain hunt! I may never fire another shot, but I’m sure I’ll make the climb a few more times![/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”chino” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fapr-may-june-2019%2F%23africa-hunting-gazette%2F22-23||target:%20_blank|”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_masonry_media_grid grid_id=”vc_gid:1604652011966-33116a0c-f5c1-8″ include=”21219,21218,21220″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
Bergzicht Game Lodge: Trophy meat gets utilized in every sense of the word.
Here are a few facts to keep in mind when trophy hunters visit Bergzicht Game Lodge. We also like to invite outsiders to enlighten them and learn about our day-to-day management. This article specifically focuses on the meat consumption of the trophies taken.
Right from the start it was part of our mission to make productive use of our resources, and it is vitally important to us to contribute to the social wellbeing of our local community. Therefore, almost every safari is part of a meat donation program to the local school.
As the pulling of the trigger is only a very small part of hunting itself, there are various other components accompanying a hunting safari which we regard as “part of the creating of a memory” experience. Not only do we have the opportunity to allow clients to interact with nature on a daily basis, we help them to understand our environment, our fauna and flora.
The hunters can do what they love to do, while they assist us in uplifting our community. The meat harvested will be donated on a regular basis to the local primary school in Dordabis. Dordabis is a rural village about 20 minutes’ drive from our lodge. This specific village is very dependent on donations and financial support from the surrounding ranchers.
The school has 255 full-time students. For many of these children this meat donation from farmers in the community is the only source of protein they get. We offer the opportunity to our clients to be part of this donation, handing over of meat should they wish to do so during their time with us.
To those who are against hunting – trophy hunting to be exact – perhaps it is time for you to realize that the meat from a large animal provides more protein and nutrients to each and every pupil which they may not have had otherwise.
Also, when our hunters bring along their own children we encourage the clients to take their children to the school. This allows the clients’ children to see how poor some communities are, and to teach them to be thankful for their own fortunate circumstances. In this way these children can, from a young age, see what a big role trophy hunting plays and the positive contribution it can make to someone else’s life. The smiles and happiness of those
village kids will leave an unforgettable impression.
When privileged children experience this first hand, it also creates the opportunity for them to return home with a better understanding of hunting, and perhaps be able to explain and defend ethical trophy hunting to their school friends who do not understand the situation. We are very keen to get youngsters involved in such programs, to get the message out there about trophy meat being utilized. Nothing goes to waste. This way a young hunter / huntress can feel as though they are part of the story.
At Bergzicht we normally use the prime cuts for the lodge. In this way the clients can enjoy the meat they harvested, and we have 20 full-time employees who also benefit from the meat hunted.
In Windhoek, the capital of Namibia our focus is more on the old-age homes. Here we again donate meat to the elderly. In this way they are sure to get top-quality organic meat without any hormones.
Be sure to get your next couple of African Hunting Gazette editions to get a better understanding of yet another important phase in the Bergzicht Game Lodge operation.[/vc_column_text][vc_btn title=”View article in E-ZINE” color=”chino” align=”center” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fafricanhuntinggazette.com%2Fapr-may-june-2019%2F%23africa-hunting-gazette%2F100-101||target:%20_blank|”][vc_masonry_media_grid grid_id=”vc_gid:1556028035582-2ccf197c-7a79-3″ include=”21208,21207,21206″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][/vc_column][/vc_row]
