A Trophy Hunt
“A 28-inch nyala is BIG; if such a bull does not get your motor running, you shouldn’t be hunting.” – Peter Kennedy
IT WAS TIME for something new and diff . I normally hunt for meat only, and h friends, but I had decided tha once, I wanted to do a one-onone phy hunt’ guided by a professio nd for a species I would not or hunt. I wanted to experience
kin to what Ruark and Capstick described. I did not want to sleep in an air-conditioned room with the option of late night DSTV.
So, a few days before my 38th birthday, I found myself awaking wet with perspiration in our fly camp in the Valley of the Elephants, with the temperatures already in the high thirties. And, so far, it was looking good; the open-air shower I could use at the foot of a rock ledge just behind our tent certainly made me feel closer to nature and enhanced the experience (though conventional ablution facilities were available). Fanie Malan of Thembeka Safaris guided my hunts, while my wife mostly relaxed in camp.
My primary goal was a trophy nyala, and this 8 000 acres of pristine Lowveld savannah had plenty of these. I also wanted a Burchell’s zebra and impala with ‘rugby-pale’ horns. I wanted to hunt on foot, but being in March, the thick bush and the vastness of the hunting area forced us to drive quite a bit. Had we set off on foot from camp each day, we’d have had little chance of bagging all my trophies in four days. However, no shots would be taken from the vehicle.
have fewer ‘war-scars’. We stalked closer, but the herd kept moving away, though seemingly quite relaxed. A troop of baboons barked not far off, increasing the tension. I cursed them, as we were almost within shooting range, but the zebra seemed undisturbed. Fanie pointed out a female some 80m off, but she remained partially concealed. I looked ‘through’ the leaves and branches, and when that distinctive triangle on the shoulder appeared I sent a 220gr Hornady RN from my .30-06 on its way. Chaos broke out with branches breaking and dust rising all around as the herd took flight. One veered off to the left and the sound of her impact with the ground confirmed that my shot had been true. Less than 15m from where she’d initially been standing, I paid my respects.
When I had my first opportunity on a good impala, I missed the shot. Hours later, I had a second opportunity, but when I squeezed the trigger, heard only the dreaded “click”. With the ram standing just 40m away, looking straight at us and appearing equally astonished, I quickly loaded and placed a shot centrally in his chest. A mere 10m from where the ram had stood, Zeffer, the second tracker, found the carcass – my first ‘rugby-pale’ trophy measuring a respectable 21 inches. A day later, I shot a second, measuring 20 inches, but with more prominent ridges on the horns, making it a very special trophy nonetheless. This one fell where he stood – my confidence was restored!
PRIOR TO THIS trip I had read up on nyala, especially devouring Peter Flack’s book, Hunting the Spiral Horns – Bongo & Nyala. During our first three days we came across some ten nyala, but none worth any effort. Early on the fourth morning we stopped at a waterhole. Fanie and the trackers got out and scanned the fresh tracks for any signs of a large bull. I could see they felt somewhat despondent as they discussed areas known to have proved fruitful in the past. Not ten minutes after leaving the waterhole, Fanie climbed out of the vehicle again, using
his binoculars to assess the trophy quality of a bull in the thickets some 60m behind us. From his body language I could tell, this was it!
I CAN’T REMEMBER who grabbed the shooting sticks out the vehicle; everything was happening at such a pace. Fanie instructed Esu and Zeffer to remain with the vehicle while he and I rushed towards the bull. I rested my rifle on the sticks and Fanie whispered, “If you get a shot, take it!” The solitary bull which had been standing broadside, motionless, now began to walk off and the dense bush made it difficult to get a clear line of sight. I was not about to let this one slip away; we moved the sticks a few paces to our right and I rested the rifle again. The bull now angled away from us but fortunately I still had a clear shot. I placed the crosshair an inch to the right of his right hind leg to angle the shot forward through the abdomen in line with his heart and squeezed. Astounded that I’d taken the shot, Fanie asked where I’d aimed. I explained my shot and he seemed happy with my account. We confidently set off to find the bull. The crashing sound of branches confirmed that we would not have to look far. He was a beauty, a mature bull measuring 27 to 28 inches, displaying typically distinctive lyre-shaped horns.
I thoroughly enjoyed this hunting experience, and for the most part attribute this to the very professional and competent manner in which Fanie Malan and the staff of Thembeka Safaris conducted themselves. While the cost of such a trophy-hunt is somewhat higher than that of a ‘biltong-jag’ it is still within reason. The trophy does not have to be a buffalo or elephant to qualify as a great African hunt. I will probably remain a meat-hunter for the most part, but there is a lot to be said for an occasional one-on-one trophy-hunt.