BLACK WILDEBEEST
White tailed gnu for the freezer
WE WERE climbing the large hill just outside the lodge for the second time in two days. It was the penultimate weekend of August and our last hunt of the 2019 season. My brother, our mutual friend Christo, and I, normally hunt in the bushveld of Limpopo but, for a change of pace, we had booked our second hunt for the year in the hills just south of Fochville. Considering that our destination for this hunt was barely 90 minutes away from Johannesburg, it was the ideal opportunity to take our respective households with us. We also extended an invitation to our parents, and so it evolved into a family weekend hunt.
My brother and I had decided earlier in the year that it was time to hunt black wildebeest again. Christo still had to decide what game he was going to hunt. After a stiff climb to get to the crest of the flat-topped hill, we spotted a herd of about 25 black wildebeest. They were peacefully grazing on the hill’s summit about 700m away from where we had made our ascent. It was still very early in the morning but it was the last day of our hunt. I was hopeful that, for the first time since 2013, I would get another chance at one of these animals using my CZ550 in .270 Win. The wind was in our favour and at that point, the wildebeest were still blissfully unaware of our presence. Cover, however, was very sparse, and only consisted of uneven ground and some scattered common suikerbos.
The previous afternoon, we had stalked a herd of blesbuck in the exact
same spot. Using a new rifle, I unfortunately missed completely. I had been a bit too optimistic with a long shot taken from a suikerbos branch. This sent the herd hurtling down the hill and onto the plain where, about two hours later, I redeemed myself and managed to take a really old blesbuck ewe. This time I made sure of doing my bit.
My freezer was almost empty and I looked forward to getting in some wildebeest meat. The wildebeest all kept to the mountainous area and I knew they were going to make me work hard to take one home. Given what had happened with my blesbuck hunt, I decided to drop the new rifle and rather use my trusty .270.
The .270 Winchester was introduced in 1925 in the form of the Winchester Model 54. The .30-06 Springfield case was necked down to .277" and the .270 Winchester was born. This calibre has the advantage of having a flat trajectory and today, bullets from 90gr to 160gr are available. For hunting, bullets in the 150gr class work well for me.
Being late in August, we experienced quite strong gusts of wind up on the hill which did help to mask our approach over the loose rocks which were scattered across the landscape. Our line was taking us through a deep gully and this, together with the wind, enabled us to close in a bit faster. However, the animals were walking away from us and it seemed as if every time we expected them to be just over the next ridge, they had once again moved on. Despite the typically harsh late winter conditions, I noticed there were still quite a few nice sized bulls in the herd, thanks to late rainfall. It was one of these representative individuals that I was after.
I was expecting the animals to depart downhill into the open but, even if they did, there would be no guarantee that I’d bag one. As these thoughts flashed through my mind, Petrus, our guide for the day, spotted the herd just over the next ridge, about 60m in front of us.
This sent adrenaline rushing through my body. We crept up to the ridge but just before I could make my selection, the wind turned and the herd fled towards the furthest edge of the hill. Disappointed, we got up but then spotted four eland in the direction the wildebeest had made their escape. As eland was on the menu for Christo, we decided to keep going the same way and try our chances on one of them. Unfortunately, they were still about 400m away and, thanks to the fleeing wildebeest, the eland were fully aware of our presence although they stood looking straight at us.
Our aim now was to find a way to approach the eland when all of a sudden the black wildebeest re-appeared from below the ridge, less than 100m away. They froze the instant they saw us. I immediately swung my rifle from my shoulder and took aim over the sticks, which were already up. I knew the herd would not stand still for long and I didn’t have time to be very selective about which animal to go for.
Luckily the one I had in my sights was a decent-sized young bull who was looking almost straight at me from a quartering position. As there were no other animals standing behind him, I disengaged the safety and aimed halfway between his shoulder and midline on his chest. The 150gr Nosler Accubond bullet found its mark and the bull was out of the starting blocks like a race horse. For a second I thought that I had wounded him and quickly chambered another round, but he only made about 40m before going down.
After we took some photos, Petrus phoned the camp to send the tractor up the hill for the recovery. We stayed a few more minutes while I admired the result of the morning’s work. The horns were still soft and smooth but came down to his eye level with the tips ending above the boss. Not one for the books, but a perfect representative wildebeest bull. I had the skull mounted as a reminder of a memorable experience.