I stared this thread in "The Dark Continent" and am bringing it over to Pow Wow.
This is a completely new experience for Linda and I - going to Africa. Perhaps some would enjoy reading a little from the perspective of fresh eyes in the Dark Continent.
Linda and I arrived South Africa on 8/25 and her suitcase never left Atlanta. My 64" Brackenbury 54# bow was in that suitcase. My suitcase contained my backup bow: a 64" Samick Journey 50#. It was shooting about 55# at my draw length and is very similar to the Brack.
Before a trip, I get very particular on details. I do know that, once in the field, all that detail planning can go to the devil. But, still, I like to be prepared ahead of time.
I found that the two bows shot slightly different, probably due to how my hand fit. And, I shot the Samick Journey better (??). On my "cold shot" with the Journey, my arrows were slightly low. With the Brack, they were slightly high. So, I practiced exclusively with the brack.
Arrows were another thing. I have not been a big fan of heavy arrows, which will get some eye brows raised here. But, with lots of testing, and lots of excel files, I settled on a Gold Tip Traditional 7595, 300 spine, 31" with 40 grains attached to the insert and a 150 grain two blade Magnus Stinger. Total weight is 564 grains.
I was wanting to bring a 463 grain arrow, but listened in the end to those who like them heavier. And, there was almost no difference in the point of impact between the two at 20 yards. Plus the Gold Tips flew very nicely and were well tuned.
Everything I read describes Kudu as narrow chested, not barrel chested like maybe a zebra. It would seem that any reasonable weight gear should kill a kudu from a reasonable distance. I am guessing the guides / state wants to put a number on it so folks don't show up with 35# and say that should do it, although it probably has.
If you will be shooting from a blind, be sure and practice from one. It is WAY different for me.
ChuckC
Willem at Matlabas Game Hunters had us fetched from the Joberg airport and put up in a nice B&B in Pretoria for the evening. As we were sipping coffee the next morning under powder blue skies out on the patio, our PH stopped in for our lift to Matlabas Game Hunters, a 4 hr. drive.
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This is a picture along the drive from Joburg to Limpopo province.
First thing at camp, Linda and I settled, got some lunch and were invited for an afternoon hunt. I still had jeans and sneakers, but no matter.
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First stop was at the range. Elgim marked a line in the sand, and said "20 yards." He stood back with the owner, Willem, to watch us shoot. As I nocked my arrow, I glanced back and saw they were both leaning against something with arms crossed waiting for the show. I have got to admit, I was a little intimidated. But I blocked that out.
First arrow with the Samick Journey was dead center in the 1" black circle. So, I act as if that is normal, not anything like luck. Next 4 or 5 arrows were all in a grate fruit size area. Linda's were about the same. More normal for us.... not bad, not great, and normal for me.
So, off we went: me with Elgim and Linda with Willem.
On the first afternoon hunt, I had two dikers and three waterbucks come into our waterhole. Nothing to shoot at. I made a few practice draws. I realized that these animals in a water hole are a lot more jumpy than the whitetail deer I'm accustomed to.
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Here, a small water buck watches the water hole standing motionless for over 20 minutes, something I've only once seen a whitetail deer do.
In the next two days, we saw less. There was still water in the Matlabas river from their Fall, the weather wasn't hot enough for the animals to want an abundance of water, and the wind was blowing. A much frustrated PH, Elgim, told me that, well, yes, there was game here. But, I didn't need convincing. Look at the ground anywhere and I saw more prints and more scat than I'd ever seen in America.
Finally, on Wednesday the 27, Elgim and I went on a Walk and Stalk. In short order we came on a small group of Eland bedded in the shadows. I didn't have any desire for an eland, but we put on a stalk for fun. As we got to about 70 yards, off to our left, we spotted zebra. Now things were more interesting.
We turned to stalk the zebra in earnest. Elgim thought he could get me behind a scrub bush at about 30 yards. Perhaps I could get a shot.
As we worked this stalk crosswind, we came more and more close to a bad wind sitution on the eland. And, sure enough, the wind took a slight shift. The eland were off taking the zebras with them.
But the zebras didn't go far. So, we started a new stalk. But that went south quickly. I'm guessing the spooked eland were too much for the zebra. Or, it could be that the zebra just like walking, ya know!
As we stood up and milled about over this ending, off to our left we spotted a 40" Kudu bull standing under an acacia tree just looking at us. ... Just amazing to me what goes on in Africa. Sure different for me. Of course, Elgim says he's too small for me. But, to me, he looks like a BIG animal. No matter anyway, as he exited also. And, as with whitetail or any other big game, once you're spotted, it's "no joy" for a successful stalk.
No pictures on or "walk and Stalk." But here is what the Bush looked like for us: semi-arid, semi open country. But, it seemed we could never see more than 200 yards.
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Well, I have some work to do, and other projects.
As I read back, I see a few "typos" which make reading a little difficult. So, I'll have to take my time with this. ... Maybe write on MS Word first, then transfer it over.
I suppose it's not much of a story for some guys that have lots of experience. But, this trip to Africa simply blew my mind. At the end of the day, I've never seen so many track, so much scat, and so much game. Not to mention, so many different species. I'm still amazed.
If I had traveled to Africa as a young man, I'd have not come back!
Anyway, I will continue this tomorrow, if you don't mind.
So far...so good. I'm enjoying the narrative, and will tune in tomorrow.
BTW, if you wish to edit an existing post of yours, just click on the paper and pencil symbol found at the top.
Also, pics would add lots to your story.
Hey bob it's Greg hahaha I was wondering if you where a tradganger
Wait till you guys get to see some pics look's like a hell of a trip and im excited to hear the story's now (pics are great but story's are better).
Thanks for the tips Blackhawk. I finally figured how to add a few pics to my previous post.
I'm terrible with pics, but, fortunately, my wife loves cameras.
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ChuckC, I practiced all summer shooting out of my upstairs loft. I even cut a piece of plywood with an opening of 6" wide by 24" high to simulate that which I would be facing on my trip.
Here is a view from our shooting window in Africa:
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Before I went, I was looking for taxidermists. That brought me to Turnbull Mfg. Co. in Bloomfield, NY just down route 5 & 20 a quarter mile from Bullseye Archery. Doug Turnbull had a shoulder mounted Bull Kudu. That induced me to take my equipment seriously, as it was a larger animal that I had thought. Surely, it's as large as a nice bull elk.
We were taken to a different "hide" each day for variety, for a different concentration of species in a different area, and because of wind direction. On Wednesday the 27th, Elgim and I were in a ground blind facing a waterhole that had been made for cattle. This farm, as probably all the farms in the area, raised cattle for the first part of the 20th century. Back then the antelope were a nuisance. That is, until sport hunting became popular. At that point, the farmers realized there was much more money in maintaining the wildlife and having hunters like us come over from Europe or America. I'm told that there are over 10,000 of these farms in South Africa supporting wildlife and hunting; the amount of wildlife supported on such farms is seven times that which can be found in the national parks where the photographers like getting their shots.
At any rate, we shortly had a single bull Blue Wildebeest come in and mill around for a long time. Elgim wouldn't let me shoot. He said it was 23" and for a Blue Wildebeest we needed 26" to be a trophy.
So, I did any number of practice draws when the right angles presented themselves. This guy reminded me of a young skike horn whitetail buck - pretty dumb.
Finally, he simply laid down and went to sleep at about 25 yards out.
At about 3:00, with our friend sleeping out front, two male warthogs came in from the left for water, one was very nice. As seems normal, the smaller one was blocking the larger animal at the water hole. But, finally I was presented with a shot.
Now, I know nothing about Warthogs. Plus, this waterhole was made of blocks about 18" high, with the water inside being somewhat low. The Warthog looked strange as he pulled himself over and stuck his snout down for water. The PH said to shoot forward (not wanting me to take a gut shot) and I saw a strange target image. At full draw, I didn't know where to shoot. I let down partially. Then shot forward.
The arrow was sticking half way out on each side. And, as he pulled away from the waterhole and assumed his normal position, I knew I'd hit him too far forward - forward of the front leg, not behind.
Still, I was hopeful I'd clipped the lungs.
We tracked for 100 yards and found my arrow. There was lots of blood (great!). None of the blood was pink (errrr!). But, we were hopeful.
After about an hour, we decided to leave him for the night. ... This is the feeling I never like about hunting.
Thursday, August 28, was Linda's birthday. She had reached an age with a zero at the end, so it was special for her, for us.
Ten years ago, she spent her "zero" birthday at a zoo as she loves wildlife.
That was before we had gotten together; before her introduction to hunting.
Me? I don't think I'd ever have gone to Africa. It simply wasn't within the scope of my vision. It was Linda that put this whole thing together. ... Impulsively...
We sat at the NYS Bowhunter's dinner in April just down the road at Inn on the Lake. It was our first time. And, they had an auction afterwards.
I don't do that stuff. But, if I did, I would have put in for, say, a Black Bear hunt in Ontario.
But, not Linda. First chance, she raises her card on an African Bow hunt.
So, here we were, on Thursday, going for another hunt. But, today, the staff had gotten together and asked if the two of us would like to hunt together with Elgim. We agreed.
First, we fetched up Shorty, an African tracker/skinner to see to the warthog. This man was nothing short of amazing. He tracked the animal walking at a determined pace, upright. Following was Elgim and then me.
At first I saw some blood. Then no blood. Then I began to wonder if Shorty was actually tracking something or putting on a show - I'd never seen anyone track like this: full upright walking along waving his hand at what he saw as the trial.
At about 600 yards we came across where he'd laid down, with a big area of blood. So, I had to believe the man knew what he was doing. Seemed like magic to me.
He said that, not long after I shot the warthog, a jackal picked up his trail and kept pushing him. Had it not been for the jackal, he likely would have laid down for the night and died. As it was, we tracked him about another 600 to 800 yards to the neighbors and had to give it up.
Along the way, we saw a nice herd of Blue Wildebeests grazing. They walked along pretty fast as they grazed, all going in the same direction. And, while we attempted to put on a stalk, it was not to be. They caught our wind and stampeded. They left us with a dust cloud and the sound of the thunder of their hooves on the sandy bushveld.
No animals yet, but, my goodness!! So far this hunting trip was worth every penny we'd spent. It was beyond any expectations I'd had. It was a different world I'd only read about. Again, I was amazed at it all.
Linda and I spent her birthday in a Hide named Quagga after an extinct subspecies of zebra.
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We spent the day bird watching, actually.
Here is a "go-away-bird" bird. If you heard his sound, you'd want him to go away too. In fact, Elgim was wanting to shoot them with a rifle.
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Linda took lots of bird photos, and Willem lent us a book to take afield to help identify them. On a different day, she caught this picture of a fellow hunter, a Goshawk, using talons rather than arrows on a quail.
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Here we are on Linda's birthday, relaxing, waiting on game, going crazy over the birds.... Oops, Linda napping.
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These guys came in for water. Nothing to shoot. The females don't have the large wart like growths by the eyes as do the males.
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And, this small Impala was a lurker, perhaps a little too skiddish to come in.
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Bob, Really enjoying your posts, keep them coming, nice experience to share with your lady.
I know I mentioned birds at Quagga. Well, it wasn't just Quagga, and frankly, we were getting a little frustrated.
A flock of Quinea Foul, which had been at 50 or 60 yards all day, decided to come in for water, this guy amoung them.
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This is the result - dinner for Shorty. An inauspicious beginning to my African take, but greatly satisfying. Finally got something. South African Turkey!
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Elgim was setting up for video on this, but snap shooting was faster....
When we got back to camp, we learned that Linda's suitcase came in on her birthday. Willem had to drive 60 miles to Lephalale to pick it up.
What a relief. We had cross packed some clothes just in case, but she was sadly deficient in clothes. In fact, she had been out in the bush with socks and sandals all week. And, she'd been using some of my hunting clothes. But, we did manage okay.
Needless to say, she was overjoyed at the arrival.
And, she asked if I wanted to put my Brack together. I declined. This cheap charlie Samick Journey was just okay for me. I'd gone 4 days so far with it. It was growing on me like an old hunting coat.
Greg, if you were on this hunt, you'd have cleaned up being the hunter you are ... Then again, we may never have seen you again, because you'd have stayed behind...
If you go, go at the end of their winter. That was good advise I got on TradGang. You want the weather warm.
Unfortunately for us, there was open water with easy access in the Matlabas River. They say that was unusual, as they had enormous rain fall in March.
One fellow from North Dakota said he was there last year and shot 11 arrows. This year he only shot 1 - but that was also, in part, because he already had certain trophies and passed on a couple shots this year.
So, Greg, you've got to put this on your list!!!!
Great stuff! Nice to see what the region looks like with the vegetation browned out and the leaves down. We were around there in early July of this year and everything was still lush and green. The heavy rains hampered our efforts as well and made for some empty sits over waterholes.
Excellent pics!
Well, I have to (attempt) to get some work done. If I had any brains, I'd retire, buy a one way ticket to Africa, and hunt until my wife comes to fetch me up. I'm sure my tongue would be dragging on the ground by then, the way it did when I took to the hills in the Finger Lakes back in my teens.
Hopefully, I can finish this up tomorrow.
Excellent read! sounds like a great time. On a side note, I was born and raised not far from you, Panama NY, down in Chautauqua County on the Chautauqua lake.
Looks like a great adventure! Looking forward to the rest of it!
Bob:::Great story and pictures.Cant wait to here more :campfire:
Sunday, August 31 began like so many days now. Up at 5:30; Breakfast in the lodge with terrific conversation; hit the road at 6:30 just past pink light. As we get to the blind, the weather is the same: sun, blue skies, breezy. Perfect blue bird skies every day. We heard a helicopter early on, but for days now had not seen or heard an aircraft, nor did we see vapor trails. South Africa had a way of making time stand still.
Linda and I were together again with Elgim today at the far corner of the property, a full 11 kilometers from the lodge. Because of wind, we went on, what I felt was a half hearted walk and stalk. We put up a diker and steenbok to make our walk about interesting. Mostly, we just enjoyed our walk about.
The wind eased as the afternoon came around. And at a little after noon, we spotted several Red Hartebeests at our 12 O'Clock about 250 yards out. It just seemed they wanted water as the lead cow was continuously facing us as they worked their way closer. It was difficult to tell how many animals there were, but I put it at either five or six. Elgim finally spotted what he thought was a nice bull with his binos.
The follow on animals would dart around, move off to the right or move off to the left. At times it appeared some of the others wanted to go back the way they came. But, mostly, they spent lots and lots of time simply standing, facing odd directions. But, the lead cow, eyes trained our way, walked slowly, stopped, walked. Finally, without breaking eye contact, she laid down in the trail facing us. She was about 100 yards out or so. They were clearly on alert.
Linda worked hard to get good photos of the Hartebeests, but they were determined to keep some of the bush between us. So, she got few good pictures.
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Here's another:
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This went on for three hours. The cow looked at us for at least an hour as she lay there in the trail when two warthogs came rushing to the water from our left. They drank quickly, then began wallowing, making all kinds of noise. They simply had a high old time of it.
Now that the Warthogs had insured the water hole was safe, the lead cow Hartebeest stood and began walking to water at a determined pace. I grabbed my bow. The other Hartebeests followed. It was happening quickly. And, as if by magic, not five, not six, but eighteen Hartebeests appeared out of the bush and came to water. It was the magic of Africa once again.
The big bull came in on the right, opposite myself, and began watering behind three cows. None of these animals stay at water long. And you've got to take the shot there if possible, as that's when they're most relaxed. So it didn't seem like a good chance for a shot. But, then as surely as day follows night, the first cow left, then the second, and third leaving me with a broadside shot, I drew. My elbow hit the side of the blind because of the angle. I tried again; no good. He picked his head up and turned quartering away. I moved forward to improve my angle. Still, I couldn't draw.
This was Linda's first hunt. It was her shot from that side, but she didn't pick up her bow. She had a blast watching so many animals come from nowhere. It truly was a terrific sight.
But as quickly as they came in, they walked away and the water hole was empty again.
We were getting long in our hunt, our remaining days few, and my frustration came to the surface. I forced it back as best I could. It's bad when one creates expectations when it comes to nature, because nature doesn't much care.
Later three cow Kudu came and milled around until pushed out by a Jackal as August came to a close.
Awesome stories so far!
Africa is a special place, no doubt! I will going on my 3rd trip over there next summer. And the first time I went, I was asking the PH how much it would cost to live there, and telling my wife she should get a job over there! I could live there easily!!!!
Congrats on the Guinnea Fowl. I got mine mounted and it is one of the best looking bird mounts I have!
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Bisch
Oops, double post!
Bisch
Monday, September 1, was the first day of spring in South Africa, so said Flippie. Today, I had a new PH as Linda and I split up. Flippie and I were back at Quagga. It was feeling like home. South Africa was feeling like home.
As was the pattern, things were slow in the morning. Flippie and I took turns napping. Finally, I had learned something – I could rest while the PH kept a look out. (About time I learned something).
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Sometime after lunch, a nice male Impala came into water presenting me with a perfect broadside shot. As I drew all I could think was that I had not turned my hat around. All I could focus on was that moment when the string touched the beak of my hat. It never did. Maybe the angle of my hat was sufficient that this didn't happen.
At any rate, I had too may thoughts that were not anywhere near those that I should have had. I shot anyway. I was over the top by a mile. Flippie looked at me like I had gone crazy. I thought I had gone crazy. He asked what happened. I shrugged in order to prevent actually having to verbalize an excuse. Any excuse would have been just that. I refused to talk, hoping I could relax my thoughts. (hint: I was not happy. This is not what I came to Africa to do).
An hour later, I had an identical opportunity; a chance to redeem myself. The arrow skimmed just under his brisket, the broadhead destroyed on a rock. How dreadful! I over compensated for the last shot and went low. I should have simply forgotten the last shot altogether. My confidence was shattered. Again, I willed myself to relax. That was becoming more and more difficult.
Unknown to me, Linda did similar from her hide. She shot three arrows at the same Impala, the first two of which he sniffed. I'm told he finally looked into the air to see where these strange birds were coming from as her third arrow came whizzing past. None of her three drew blood; none of mine drew blood.
With Linda, it was understandable. This was her first ever hunt. And, even though I worked with her daily for months, when the first flesh and blood animal stood in front of her, she learned that this wasn't our back yard, and this wasn't practice. We weren't in Kansas anymore. Nobody can prepare for that first shot ever. It's strickly a "learn by experience" deal. Welcome Linda to the brotherhood and sisterhood of hunting.
Back in my hide, I did what I could to calm down. I know I shouldn't, but I was feeling intimidated. Feeling intimidated seems like a natural first instinct for me. But, I know that's not all there is. I've come too far to let momentary feelings rule. Still, I felt I needed a good explanation, and I had none.
To myself, I knew I needed 100% focus at the shot. All else needs to be erased from my mind. And, that's not what I was giving. To Flippie I said I had lost my confidence, to which he related a story of a fellow archer who took months to get his mojo back. Great, I thought.
A half hour later, I asked to pick up my two arrows. When Flippie agreed, I asked to shoot a practice arrow. He thought the idea good. I picked out a two and a half inch rock under where the Impala had stood, drew slowly, aimed and ... Swack!!! I hit the thing on the front third sending it like a tiddle wink for 30 feet, well beyond the water hole.
I put down my bow shook my head and laughed out loud! We retrieved the three arrows and proceeded to wait for dark when we'd be able to bring the first of spring to an end, as we had so many other days in the bush.
As with other days, the sun got lower and lower; the time ticked past 6:00; past 6:10. The sun was gone. Blue skies were a memory. Gray was turning to dark. Elgim liked to quit at 6:20. But, the days were getting longer. It looked like the hundreds of other days that have ended for me. You don't want to give it up, but you must. I guess Flippie liked staying to the bitter, bitter end, unlike Elgim who hunted to the bitter end. Just then, Flippie, looking through his binos, said in an excited, yet controlled whisper "Bull Wildebeest .... Big .... get ready!!" I looked and couldn't see. He said something about the legs, in the bush, outside the water hole. I tried to see, thought I saw, but don't know for sure.
I looked at my watch. The radium dials reported 6:25. I reached for my bow in my left hand and an arrow in my right. I tried nocking the arrow without noise, but I couldn't see the side plate or the arrow rest. I put the arrow down and picked it up from a different angle and tried again. I only was able to put the nock to the string from feel. Flippie had asked if it was too dark for me, but I never heard him. With arrow nocked, I looked out the window. There was more light outside the hide than in, and I saw this huge sillowette. I looked for horns, couldn't make them out, and was about to say that it was maybe too dark to shoot. Just then Flippie said "shoot." As commanded, I drew, aimed for the place I know from so much experience was the spot, gave an extra half inch and perfect back tension... and the arrow was gone.
Flippie thought he saw the flash of the arrow through his binos and that he shot was good. I didn't see any arrow at all, though the shot felt great. I did see the biggest animal I'd ever shot at take one great leap out of the water hole and hunch his back as he left. Now, that was a good sign; an excellent sign. But, still, I never saw the arrow go. It could have been anywhere. All I knew is that, when Flippie said shoot, everything in me was focused on the shot.
Flippie brought the Land Rover around, and we stowed our gear. He left it running with the lights on so we would have a frame of reference as we went after the Wildebeest.
We found half an arrow where he first landed after his lunge. It was covered in pink blood. We tracked and tracked and tracked. As is normal, we lost the trail then picked it up again. At last, we came across two pieces of congieled blood, big around as a pencil and a couple inches long. Flippie put the light to it and said, "Pink - that's good." I picked up a piece to make it more real to me. He was right. It sure looked like lung blood to me. But, I stood up and looked back toward the Land Rover. It seemed to me as if it were over 200 yards away. My experience has taught me this was a problem, pink blood or not. So, I said to Flippie, "Are you sure. I've never seen an animal go two hundred yards on a lung shot." To which he simply said "Wildebeests are tough animals."
We tracked a little more as he said the blood trail was light due to my two blade broadhead. I asked if I should have used a 4 blade, but he said, "No. The two blade will kill them just as dead, but the blood trail is somewhat reduced."
We gave it up for the morning and Shorty. I like Shorty okay, but know it's not good when we have to have him.
Elgim was right on me at camp. Ever the hunter, he knew we were late to dinner for a reason and he wanted the whole story and his excitement made him demand every detail. I really enjoyed that in Elgim. He wasn't just a PH. He was a hunter in love with the sport. Reminds me of my friend Mark in Virginia who does an autopsy on every deer – after 200 or more. Crazy dedication.
Linda asked. She wanted to know what tomorrow will bring. She was more subdued. I told her it would be either a really good day or a really bad day. For some reason, I was at peace with both. Gone was the frustration of the Hartebeest. Gone was the intimidation of the Impala. In its place was just acceptance. What is, is. At last, Africa had me in its clutches completely.
This is the entrance to the lodge:
(http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a74/rhallifax1/DSCN0674_zps438167df.jpg) (http://s9.photobucket.com/user/rhallifax1/media/DSCN0674_zps438167df.jpg.html)
Here's a look at the lodge from where we sat for breakfast and dinners to the opposite end of it.
(http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a74/rhallifax1/DSCN0455_zps9f136da4.jpg) (http://s9.photobucket.com/user/rhallifax1/media/DSCN0455_zps9f136da4.jpg.html)
And another:
(http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a74/rhallifax1/DSCN0749_zps1f2e6c25.jpg) (http://s9.photobucket.com/user/rhallifax1/media/DSCN0749_zps1f2e6c25.jpg.html)
Tuesday, September 2 started like the others. Except, after breakfast, we went to fetch up Shorty the tracker. I was familiar with the drill by now. We went to his house that was on the farm. I'm sure they heard the Land Rover coming. His wife and daughter came out to chat in Afrikaans. Then Shorty appeared, pulling his belt tight, hearing the story, and off we went.
Flippie had dragged his heel in the sand to mark the end of our work the night before. We found that with little effort. Then around the next tree, there he was – he was where he lay all night. Fortunately the Hyenas and Jackals didn't find him yet. He was in perfect shape except for the broadhead sticking out four inches from his side.
The arrow was far back, almost to the liver on the liver side. We pulled it out and rolled him over. The entrance wound was still girggling pink bubbles just behind the nub of his elbow. It would have been a perfect shot had he been broadside. I thought he was broadside the evening before. But, the low light deceived me. From his wounds I now knew he was quartering toward me at a slight angle. As it was, the shot still took out both lungs. So, it was certainly good enough. Flippie estimated the horns at 26 inches. He said it was a trophy. I believed him. This is the largest animal I've ever shot. I was happy.
(http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a74/rhallifax1/image0001_zpscdc0ad4b.jpg) (http://s9.photobucket.com/user/rhallifax1/media/image0001_zpscdc0ad4b.jpg.html)
(http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a74/rhallifax1/image0013_zpsd83b9e36.jpg) (http://s9.photobucket.com/user/rhallifax1/media/image0013_zpsd83b9e36.jpg.html)
That evening in camp, Elgim insisted on taking me to the cooler where the skinned and gutted carcass hung so we could inspect the animal together. This was a big, tough animal as Flippie had said. There was no pass through as I broke a couple ribs.
What started this thread on "The Dark Continent" was a desire to have sufficient bow and arrow for the job. Well, this was sufficient. But, I must say, I know I didn't have "over-kill." And, I wouldn't use less than I did.
Upon request, we had tenderloins grilled over a Camel Thorn fire the next evening. Those darn things are too rich for me, and can bind me up awful. No matter. I ate with abandon.
We did see four more Bull Kudu, two shooters, after. But my Africa bowhunt was complete.
My Kudu is still in Africa ... waiting. The Gray Ghost, he's called. He's standing completely still in the shadows of an Acacia Tree as I write – too dark, too still for the American, but easily seen by Flippie and Elgim.
Though Linda didn't get any game, this trip was everything she could have wanted.
For myself .... I don't know .... humm .... Africa has grasped me in her clutches... As they say, "I think this here thing is gonna cost me some money."
Sir, a very fine read! You make a poor boy wish to travel to the dark continent :pray:
John, I hope you can make it some day. I never thought I could afford it. By the grace of God, I'm healthy at age 64 and still working. That's how I've managed it. We also got quite a discount because of the NY Bowhunters auction. Linda was the only bidder at $ 500 for a $ 6,250 value.
Of all the impressions, the abundance and variety of game impressed me most. It was astounding. The guys that live there and can hunt there don't know how lucky they are. Where I live, the only big game to hunt is the Whitetail deer. Not that I don't enjoy hunting them, just that I didn't know what I was missing until I hunted Africa.
:thumbsup:
Great bid for a great trip! Glad it worked out for you and Linda.