3’ from the gnu.
In three days of hunting I had harvested all five of my contracted animals. Now what? That afternoon Nico put the four of us in his tourist bakkie, and we drove around taking pictures of animals. Not the kind of shooting I liked, but it was OK.
While searching we found a male warthog that Nico had tried to put down since March of this year. A previous hunter had shot him with a 168 Barnes .308WIN from 600 yards. The bullet was still in the hog’s shoulder, preventing him from feeding adequately. Since a human caused the problem, Nico wanted a human to stop his suffering. We spotted him limping into brush. Nico drove the truck around to the opposite side and TJ and I dismounted. As we pushed through the thorns, the pig tried to squirt back up a creek he had scurried through. He was running away from right to left at about a 75 degree angle. I picked him up in the scope, but waited until he ran across a break in the brush, and then fired. I screwed up and forgot to put the red dot out in front of him. Having the dot on his chest, the round entered his left rear hip and exited through his right chest and he dropped about 50 yards from me. I don’t count him as a trophy, as I was just happy to end his suffering. His hips looked like he had had a stay at Bergen-Belsen.
That afternoon, TJ took me out on a stalk. Nico’s orders were that if anything we saw ate meat, it was to die. Calving season was just around the corner and he didn’t want any jackal or genet taking newborns. TJ and I still hunted through the bush for over a mile. About ½ way through I had to stop and stretch the L4/L5 back issue as my left leg was shutting down. Only time it really bothered me on the entire trip. I whispered to TJ “Boy, I really wish I had another 4” of barrel for my H&H to snag on thorns, brush and rocks. I could use some more weight to carry!” We both chuckled. He had begun referring to my Alaskan as “Stubby”, but he could see it slew animals, so he respected the carbine.
Eventually, the still hunting took us to Nico’s 3 mile x 2 mile plain. Herds of wildebeest, impala, and blesbok flowed across this open area. As we approached through the trees and therefore, shadow, first a wildebeest herd, and then impala, saw our shapes. They watched intently, but were far enough away to not spook. We were able to move to about 20 yards from the grass’ beginning. TJ found a single blesbok ram, indicating he was over the hill and had been forced out of the herd. We tried a tree branch to fire from, but it was masked by a dead branch hanging in front of me. TJ set the sticks up 5 yards to the left. If we moved any closer the impala and wildebeest herds would break and we would need to start all over. TJ lased the blesbok – 253 yards. I ran the turret on the scope to 250 and tried very hard to settle the oscillation of the dot on the blesbok’s chest. He was facing us at about a 4:30 or 5 O’clock angle. I squeezed gently and the shot broke. The blesbok dropped in his tracks, the bullet taking a path just inside the right shoulder and exiting behind the left shoulder.
Not the world record by any means, but an animal I am proud to bring home! I never imagined I would take a 253 yard shot with a .375 Ruger. The Leupold custom dial system works.
Another view of the blesbok coupled with the sunset.
Back to the skinning shed. At camp, TJ told me that Drom had offered me a VERY good price to pursue a buffalo. It was nearing the end of the season, I had a legal rifle to shoot with, I was already there in RSA – it was a very attractive offer. The amount of money was still enough that I felt I better consult House Hold 6 before taking it. She was out of camp on her overnight stay at the horse ranch. So, I called Natalie with TJ’s cell and Natalie got HH6 on the phone. It turns out, she was going to say yes, but I could hear in her voice – she would spend the rest of the time in Africa stewing about how we would pay for the buffalo. This would ruin her trip. I passed on the buff and took the consolation prize. For ¼ the cost, TJ & I would pursue a bigger animal in the morning – a giraffe bull.
19SEP21
The next morning, TJ and I set out to find this hoodlum bull that Nico wanted removed. He had made it a weekly habit to walk through the ranch’s fences to find bulls on the adjacent properties to fight with. The cows in the herd all had calves, and they were all expecting again. Nico said that if we could get this bull, he wouldn’t be missed. We found him in a corner of the property we had not hunted in yet. TJ and I dismounted and “walked” toward the herd – one does not stalk an animal that has his eyes 20’ off the ground. By the time we hit the 100 yard mark, he was about done with our irritating movement towards him.
His coat was very nicely dark on the top half, and very light on the bottom half. Generally, mature bulls are dark everywhere, but not this guy. I split the joining of his neck to the body, and the “adam’s apple” of his shoulder bump, then went 15” to the right, as he was facing 9 o’clock. I squeezed (with a round in the chamber this time!) and the shot broke. I ran the bolt and prepared to fire again. My reading research had taught me to not let the adrenaline kick in, or we would chase this giraffe for 4 counties and 8-10 more rounds. He started to run. I fired again, striking his left shoulder. Before I could run the bolt again he had already moved 50 yards and his head dropped, the four hooves went over the top, and his complete somersault placed him squarely on a bakkie road.
While I was in recoil from the first shot, TJ had seen him lunge his head and neck forward, indicative of a heart shot. TJ knew he was dead on the hoof, but I didn’t. Hence, the second round. I caught TJ off guard again. We found the first bullet on the far side of the heart. One of the two missing petals was about 1” back behind the bullet, still in the heart. The 2nd round in the shoulder never made it to bone or the chest cavity. We found it when skinning him in the shed. I administered a finishing round through the chest from 2 yards and that was found under the skin of his left shoulder.
