ABORTED LION HUNTS

Don’t try to be the hero

IN the late 1970s there were hardly any safari operators in South Africa and I managed to acquire some hunting rights on farms in the Hoedspruit/timbavati area, adjoining Kruger Park. It was a little ‘tame’ compared to the huge, wide open concessions where I had been operating in Rhodesia and Botswana. However, there were some lion, buffalo, leopard, large and small antelope to be found, and the area became quite popular. In those days, lion and leopard were considered vermin and they could be shot without a licence, any time, day or night.

Not all lion hunts end in success, and some are memorable or interesting, and occasionally amusing. I don’t normally make fun of, or criticise, my paying clients, but the following two stories are worth relating.

I was on a lion hunt with two Californian clients on a farm near Timbavati. Joe hunted with me, and Charlie was guided by my friend, Jeff Rann. We had been hunting for a few days and had shot some antelope; the clients seemed to be enjoying themselves. Then, one day, we spotted the tracks of a large

pride of lions. I built a blind in a likely spot on a big termite hill, and then we looked for a bait to put out. Joe shot a zebra and we dragged it to near the termite hill. Then we tied it to a stump which was in easy view of the blind, which was about thirty paces away. The next day we checked the bait and found that the lions had devoured most of the carcass so I shot a wildebeest to add to the meat. I also reinforced the walls of the blind with thorn bushes because the clients were somewhat alarmed about being on the ground within thirty paces of a large pride of lions! Jeff and I decided to bring both clients to the blind because with such a large pride, it was likely that there would be two or more shootable males hanging around.

At about four in the afternoon, we quietly approached the blind and settled down to wait. As the sun started sinking we heard some jackals and the call of a distant hyena. Just after the sun disappeared I heard the low calls and grunts of a large number of lions approaching from the nearby dry riverbed. I motioned to everyone to keep still and quiet, and we waited expectantly for the lions to start feeding. I noticed that both clients were looking nervous, particularly Charlie. He was quite pale, kept swallowing and was sweating profusely. I thought it was just a nervous reaction and I kept reassuring him.

After a while I saw the shadowy forms of lions approaching the bait but could not see any big males. I hoped that a couple of big lions would finally pitch up to feed. It was quiet for a while, then the sound of chomping and breaking bones started, accompanied by loud growls and grunts from the animals competing for the meat. There must have been about fifteen or twenty lions and they were making a fearsome racket! The clients were getting very nervous when suddenly Charlie let out a cough. Some of the lionesses looked up and fastened their eyes on the blind. Then one charged straight at us, emitting furious grunts, stopping only about two paces away. I really thought she would come through the wall of thorn bushes and I was ready to shoot. She glared at us for a few seconds and then walked back to the meat, only to spin around and repeat the charge. This happened three or four times, a performance both frightening and impressive for the inexperienced clients. Charlie got so scared that I had to physically restrain him from running away. At that I decided to call it a day, as I had not seen any big lions and there was a chance that I may have to shoot one of the aggressive lionesses so, I fired a shot in the air, causing the lions to take off.

Shortly afterwards Jeff came and told me that Charlie was having difficulty breathing and bad chest pains. I had a look at Charlie and realised he was having a heart attack. I ran over to

Some of the lionesses looked up and fastened their eyes on the blind. Then one charged straight at us, emitting furious grunts

the farm owner, Jan Cronje, and asked him to urgently get hold of the nearest doctor. He managed to contact the doctor at the Hoedspruit Air Force Base and when the doctor arrived, he confirmed that Charlie was indeed having a heart attack. He managed to stabilise Charlie and told him that he would have to go into hospital immediately. Charlie was horrified and refused to even consider it. “No way am I going into a hospital in Africa,” replied Charlie. “Get me on the first plane to Los Angeles.” The doctor replied, “You will die if you don’t have medical supervision on the flight.” “Well, come with me; I will pay your expenses,” said Charlie. The doctor’s commanding officer agreed to give him two weeks leave and off they went.

The doctor stayed with Charlie right to his home and actually did save his life. Afterwards, as he was leaving to come back to South Africa, Charlie handed him a cheque for $25 000 and said, “Take this as a small token of my gratitude.” The doctor reluctantly accepted the gift and on his return, delightedly told us about his trip.

Another lion hunt that didn’t work out well involved Mel, who arrived armed with photo albums of himself in all sorts of heroic situations, including him as a decorated fighter pilot and him posing with bears and other fearsome trophies he had shot in the USA. He insisted on showing these pictures to anyone who would tolerate it and kept boasting about how rugged, fearless and intrepid he was. Of course, the local farmer and his wife gave him the nickname ‘Rambo’.

We hunted for a few days and Mel bagged some of the local animals, including a kudu, wildebeest, waterbuck, impala, warthog and a zebra. He kept saying he was keen to get a good lion and I knew there was a big one in the area. I had seen the spoor a number of times before – and again the previous day. When I told him my plans he readily agreed.

I used Mel’s zebra carcass for bait and, after dragging it around, tied it to a small tree near the path where I had seen the spoor of the big lion. This was in quite an open area and there was a little patch of thick bushes where we could make a ground blind. It had a good view and was across wind from the path I thought the lion would likely use. I didn’t think Mel would mind being on the ground but when he saw what I was doing, he looked somewhat alarmed. “Isn’t it dangerous to be down on the ground and not up in a tree blind?” he asked. “Don’t worry; the lion will be intent on eating the bait and anyway, I’m sure a guy like you can handle most situations,” I said.

Early the next morning we went to check the bait. We parked a good distance away and cautiously approached the spot in case the lion was there. Sure enough, the lion had found the bait and fed, but then walked off down the path. It had left some long, black mane-hairs on the carcass, so I knew it would have a good mane. I wanted to follow the tracks because it was likely that the animal would not have gone far after his big meal but Mel was not at all keen, and said that he didn’t feel like walking too far because he was tired. I told him we would come back to sit in the blind in the late afternoon as the lion was almost sure to return.

At about 4pm we got into the blind and settled down to wait. Mel kept swatting at flies and mopane bees and clearing his throat. I told him to be still and keep quiet. He was sweating and decidedly nervous, looking around continuously. Then he lay down and appeared to go to sleep! The sun went down but there was a full moon and it was easy to see the bait. A hyena started its woo-wee calls in the distance and Mel started up in fright. I explained it was just a hyena and, after peering nervously around, he settled down again.

I was just starting to doze off when I heard something. The moon was so bright that it lit up the area almost like daylight, and I could see clearly all around the blind. Again I heard a low rumble and the huge lion appeared, walking past us towards the bait, about ten yards away. Carefully I put my hand on Mel’s arm and pointed. “Look, there he is: shoot,” I whispered. Mel took one look, stiffened out, let out a thunderous fart and started quivering with terror. The lion must have thought it was a bigger lion about to attack and took off, never to be seen again!

When Mel had recovered, we packed up and drove back to camp in silence. After dinner that night he finally said, “I don’t think I want to shoot a lion; let’s hunt other game.” After that I couldn’t persuade him to go anywhere near a lion. So much for the All-american hero – from then on he stopped telling everyone what an intrepid guy he was!