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Warning - This is for those who are interested in African hunting, interested in sharing experiences, have been there and enjoy reliving the unique experiences vicariously or for those who dream of someday going. All of the Never-been-there,/Never-done-it and Have ZERO desire do anything but troll because you have a lonely miserable existence,, just GFY right now as you exit this thread. Those of you that love Africa and or desire to go one day, I write of my experiences for you/us to enjoy. Bring a sense of humor, leave any Woke sensitivies or overblown delusions of self importantce at the door. Thank you.


I want to share some of my adventures just had on a month long safari in Zambia an RSA. In Zambia, (July 17-Aug 12) I hunted a concession of 1300 sq/km in south Luangwa with Johnny DuPlooy. In RSA I hunted the Karoo and Eastern Cape with John X Safaris. I've hunted with with both numerous times. Every safari has a story, a highlight, some funny some tragic. I've been detained at gunpoint by people in Kenneth Kuanda's old regime, I've had cape buffalo walk up to me so close that when I mounted my double I poked it the nose and got snot on the barrels. I've seen fishermen killed by hippos, poachers beaten with sticks by government scouts. I've barfed in passport control, and stitched up trackers gored by buffalo. None of that tops this next story!



As told to my best friends:

“You are not going to believe this one!

I’m in Zambia on safari.

We are out for the morning hunt. Kudu and tuskless elephant only things left. We hit the trail. Stalk and glass a number of herds. All have tusks or the wind is wrong and they detect us and clear out. See only kudu females. The males aren’t running with them. Not time for amorè I guess.

We see impala, puku, giraffe, buffalo etc, but nothing on our menu.

I mentioned this 1300 sq km is privately owned by muslim Indians and leased. It’s a big area.

About 10:00 a vehicle comes up behind us honking. It’s loaded with people. Black local dude who’s one of the foremen on the ranch, and a dozen “Mohammedans” as Robert Ruark wrote about. Literally 12 hombres with beards, funky muslim head gear and that long flowing stuff they wear complete with ugly ass sandals.

It seems half were of the family that owned the property and 6 “guests” from India. They explained they wanted a feast for lunch with the friends, impala specifically. They had the Imam there with a big knife to to do the halal. Critical!

Their problem was, they couldn’t shoot for [bleep]! They had been hunting since sunup, missing an unknown number of shots, or wounded game that ran off. See, it’s no good if it runs and dies before the coup de grace.

They most humbly asked if Bwana Makumbwa (Me) would do them the honor of plugging a maleimpala for them. Not a nice puku or waterbuck or female, it must be a ram impala.

Sure.
I tell my son to do the honors. We drive around and find one in the flats. Johnny takes my son on the stalk, all dozen Mohammedans follow. I’m not kidding. Must have thought that hideous garb they wore had stealth properties. They don’t. They wanted to be close to pounce and cut. The Impala naturally runs off as the hoard approached.

My son sees that huge entourage and big phoucing knife and pleads “Dad, YOU need to take care of this! “

Ok, dad will deal with it.

We drive, find two rams in thick bush off to my left. I can’t see them. The True Believers are all excited thinking lunch is coming. I’m frustrated. We move and see them. Two lined up. One shot gets two, but I wasn’t sure how the Zambian Game Dept would view that. Let one clear and boom! DRT.

There is and explosion of Allah’s children tripping over themselves to get to the animal. SOB gets his big MFing knife and goes ear to ear. They pray over the dearly departed and then are all smiles. I am instantly the hailed greatest Infidel on planet earth, invited to the party as honored guest and all that.

Immediately they ask me where I’m from, what religion I am and do I know Mohammed.

Oh [bleep]! Talk about being cornered! I admit I’m Christian but quickly start spouting off the 5 pillars of Islam and how I’m sure that Mohammed and Jesus were coming in the last days to kick ass and take names.😳

That brought smiles, as they were happy to know I wasn’t an ignorant Infidel, and they would take the opportunity at lunch to finish my conversion to the One True Religion. WTF???

Johnny saved us by telling them we had a date with an elephant, so they blessed me, my rifle, my family, and all those that dwell within my realm.

This is a note a joke. Really happened. 🤕😳

The Iman is the dude in the blue. The Chubby dud on the right with the glasses was the one so concerned about my spiriual wellbeing. He has divergent eyes. One looks east and one looks west. Do you know how disconcerting it is to attempt to make eye contact and speak with somebody that has exotropia? Unnerving!

I'll continue to post as I upload photos.

I'll never make it to Africa but I enjoy hearing the stories. I look forward to the continuing saga.

Ummmm, well $hit. That's not a hunting experience I would enjoy but hunting on private property has its challenges and surprises.

Hope your hunt was less.... exciting I suppose?

vicariously...until my next trip!

Great story, Africa trips are always interesting. Something always happens!

This is a great concession, and a fantastic conservation story. So by my calculations, 1300 square kilometers is 500 square miles, or a tract of land 22 miles by 23 miles. It was considered "Depleted" of game 20+ years ago. The owners bought and with severe anti-poaching efforts, the game has come back. LOTS of game. Saw lions, saw leopard tracts all over and heard the baboons raising hell with the after dark. Buffalo by the hundreds. More roan than I've ever seen on any tri. Puku, impala, etc.

They employ up 60 anti poaching "guards, that are armed, live in camps on the concession, and work with the Game Department. It borders a national park on one side so is protecting the NP from poaching.

This is a success.

Hatari, thanks for the picture and narrative. Interesting story. Glad the Iman did not decide to make a "good" infidel out of you.

L.W.

More, more, more, more.....

Great story! I've been around plenty of Muslims in Africa and you paint the picture well.

Awesome...

Now let's get right into elephant hunting. I've hunted trophy tusked elephant before. Exciting, thrilling, anxiety producing, all terms that don't scratch the surface of the experience. There is no way to be casual about it.

There is no turret dialing, Chris Kyle/ Carlo Hathcock 1/2 mile sniping with elephant. There is no diesel stalking or shooting from the back of a vehicle. There is no building a hide and waiting over bait. You gotta earn your elephant using patience and shoe leather.

You must find them and stalk them. They move while casually feeding faster than you can trot. They have an incredible sense of smell, and acute hearing. Fortunately, they are myopic. Judging the ever shifting wind is vital to success of the hunt, and keeping your own carcass in tact.

Since bringing the ivory back to the US is such a hassle with CITIES and USFW regulations as well as international regulations, I get the bright idea to hunt tuskless elephant. It offers the full experience, costs are less, no import issues, and it helps will herd management.

Hunting tusked can be straight forward. Find a small bachelor group of 3-4, track them until midday when they stand in the shade for a siesta, sneak up and pop them. Hopefully, you brain the target and the others bugger off.

I get with Johnny DuPlooy and set it up, and he tells me "I'll do it for you, but this will be my last tuskless hunt...EVER!

What the hell? "Tuskless hunts get hairy. They are almost always in herds, more eyes and ears, the herds are full of females with young, they are all bitchy and cheeky. They are highly protective, defensive, and have no inhibitions about charging."

"Oh!". Hadn't considered all that.

Finding elephant isn't necessarily difficult. Drive along the river to find where they've watered, get out, start walking.

Finding a tuskless is not so simple. We picked over herd after herd, everything had ivory. You can follow a herd of 30-40 for an hour before you can get a good look at all the adults as they move through the bush. The wind must be right, you can't just walk around willy-nilly because you can find yourself outflanked when the wind shifts. When that happens, the SHTF, the trumpeting starts the herd runs around, they round up the babies, and the big females come out front to form an impressive defense, ready to stomp intruders. When you are close enough to throw a stone at them, you realize that the .450 #2 double in your hands is not enough if things go sideways.

Toward the end of the hunt, we find a herd of about 50 with a suitable target. Of course, the one we want is on the far side. The herd is spread out over 100 yards in groups of 5 and 10s feeding, snorting, branch breaking, stomachs grumbling.

In attempt to stay down wind, stay with or ahead of the target, and to work our way into a shooting position becomes a chess game. Actually, it's more like a WW II submarine stalking a Japanese task force trying to get in position to shoot at the carrier. You have to work inside the destroyer screen, must stay ahead of the carrier, get close enough for a sure kill, and remain undetected.

Once the planets aligned, Johnny, Alpha the tracker and I moved down a slick slope to a narrow stream not 40 yards from the elephants. Mud is slick and Johnny slips and falls on his butt on this side of stream. We all stood bug eyed wondering if the elephants heard or witnessed this comedy, but thankfully johnny's butt is padded and the herd never noticed.

Regaining his indignity, we reworked our position to within 40 yards of our target. Since our target was moving, he insisted on a heart shot. We had talked this over before hand. Brain shot if the elephant was standing and we had a clear side on, heart if it's walking.

I raised the big double, and as it stretched out the front leg I slammed a 500 grain Woodleigh solid right in that crease and the elephant took it hard, almost falling to one knee. It spun to face me, and I cut loose with the other barrel in the chest. The herd turned tail and thundered up and over the hill, mine at the rear. No parting shot was available as it disappeared over the hill.

Handshakes and back slaps all around, knowing we had a dead elephant over the hill. We waited 30 minutes for the game scout and rest of entourage to catch up, alert the recovery team to get the meat truck ready.

This area was hilly and rocky. Hard to believe but elephants are not simple to track over rocky ground. Their bean bag like feet don't dig into the earth like hooves do. A big herd makes picking out on individual to track impossible.

Wasn't unusual not to find blood from a heart shot. The thick skin covers up a .450 hole easily. We go over the hill and....no elephant!

See the herd off in the distance, no wounded elephant. We scoured the area and no track can be found breaking off from the herd. We track the herd on foot until darkness stops us..no dead elephant. Everybody is perplexed. I'm despondent fearing I wounded one that is running around. How is that possible? We dunno.

Sleep on it. Set off next day break to spot where herd overnighted in the riverine brush, thick and noisy. All healthy elephants. Late morning, my Mohammedan friends drive up. Seems the saw vultures in the area in which I shot, investigated, and got chased off by a pride of lions feasting on my dead elephant. It appears it did go over the hill, broke from the herd, ran down a ravine and keeled over dead.

We never got close enough to take hero pictures, the lions ran US off too! I'm not posting a photo of the tuskless hors de combat, as there just isn't any dignity left in them. I will post a pic of meat drunk lions.

Great story, Jeffand look at it this way; you made the lions happy...and fat!

Glossina morsitans

The hated tsetse fly! Those biting bastards don't just suck blood but take a chunk of flesh when they fly off.

Though in some areas they transmit parasites that cause trypanosomiasis and sleeping sickness in humans, they also infect domestic livestock keeping ranching out of game areas infested with the fly.

They bite like horse flies and slapping them does not smush them. You must crush them or else they will fly off with your blood and your integument.

A couple of things that work for me. Long shelves, long pants, both treated with permethrin, Skin So Soft with Picaridin on exposed skin. I had only one significant bite in 2weeks in tsetse country.
Another trick new to me is a smudge pot burning dry elephant dung on a pole on the rear of the vehicle really keeps the numbers down. Tsetse follow movement and will fly along biting the crap out of everybody on the vehicle.

Ugh - Can't imagine how bad the tsetses were back before chemical warfare.

hatari, That is a beautiful table too!

I love that old colonial teak and mahogany stuff. Our kitchen table is one of those made with old teak railroad sleepers

Great stuff, Hat.

Congratulations…….you’re living the fantasy that many of us dream of! Thanks for sharing! memtb

Great hunt, what happens to the elephant meat if recovered? Imagine the property owners would not want it with no halal ceremony.

Fantastic adventure Jeff, and great pics. That first pic with the tribe of turbans is awesome! Congrats on a tremendous experience.