Buffalo Hunt

The difference between theory and practice

BBY THE TIME I took my first step in search of an old dagha bo y on a game farm in Limpopo, I knew everything a man could learn about buffalo hunting from textbooks, old scriptures and the internet. I had scoured all the resources, compared sh ot placements of experts and had already forme d my o wn idea of what to do if things should go wrong. At that moment I was the ultimate textbook buffalo hunter.

I was comfortable with my rifle, a Blaser in .375H&H, paired with a case full of handloaded 300gr Barnes X-bullets – carefully developed with the expert help of Craig Rosser of Lekana Gun Shop in Polokwane. I was as ready as a plains game biltong hunter of many years could be for this ultimate challenge.

‘My’ bull was a specific individual in a group of fifteen old bulls destined for the international hunting market. One of his horn-tips was missing and this is what made it possible for me to stomp this hallowed ground where buffalo roam. The farmer, a friend, insisted that a PH, Johan (Blackie) Swart, accompany me with his expert tracker, Brighton. I could take my son Tiaan along as photographer.

We reasoned that with a bit of luck everything would be over by 10am, allowing Blackie to help other hunters in our party to bag whatever plains game they were after. However, things were to turn out very differently. I realised that Blackie’s main task was to ensure that I did not mistakenly shoot the wrong bull, something that would be a costly mistake.

Blackie’s main task was to ensure that I did not mistakenly shoot the wrong bull, something that would be a costly mistake

AT SUNRISE WE were in the area of the farm where the buffalo were known to graze and soon encountered the herd. They were huge beasts with massive horns, ears in tatters and showing many old battle scars. They had not survived this long by being dumb and although we came within shooting range on three occasions, we were unable to find ‘my’ specific bull. It almost seemed as if the other bulls were shielding him from us with their bodies.

ABOVE LEFT: At dawn, (L-R) PH Blackie Swart, author and his son Tiaan Nel ready for the hunt. ABOVE RIGHT: (L-R) Blackie Swart, the tracker Brighton and the author with his buffalo.