Day 7
Today, we decided to hunt the blind we sat on the very first day of our hunt. We had a trailcam picture of a massive bushbuck hitting the waterhole with a few other bucks. On the way there, Doug decided to try some spot and stalk in a different area—a gut feeling that would completely alter that morning's hunt. Since I love spot and stalk hunting, no arm-twisting was needed this morning.
We worked our way around a towering mountain littered with giant boulders. It was a beautiful location, and so different from the other areas I’ve hunted over the years. It reminded me of the scene in The Ghost and the Darkness where they head into the mountains after the male lions. They located largest lion lair in history with over 100 estimated human remains. The area we were hunting was incredibly dense and covered in thorns, making it a perfect spot for a wary bushbuck.
As we were creeping through the brush and thorns, I saw a flicker through the tangled branches off to my right. Quickly determining it was a bushbuck, I hastily tapped on Doug’s right shoulder, and he stopped dead in his tracks. I pointed to the animal's location, and he raised his binoculars to spot the elusive prey. He whispered to me, "It’s a shooter."
Doug stayed behind as I started my slow stalk toward a boulder located between me and the bushbuck. The last I had seen the buck, he was walking in my direction, so my hope was to get to the boulder and let him walk past to give me a great broadside shot. Once I reached the boulder, I patiently waited for him to emerge, but after a few minutes, I realized he should have passed me by now.
I quietly peeked around the boulder, but still saw no buck. Deciding to check the other side, I finally caught a glimpse of him hidden in the thickest part of the brush, which was as dense as a bird's nest in the early spring. I took a few more careful steps to look for an opening until I found a single window, about 6 inches wide, sitting right over his vitals. He was now staring straight at me.
Being only 35 yards away, I drew back my bow and took careful aim. After I released my arrow, I watched it disappear into the thicket, heard a solid thud, and watched him bolt off. A few minutes later, I heard a loud crash followed by thrashing. I wasn’t entirely confident in what I heard but I felt like I had placed a good shot on him. I looked back at Doug, wanting some reassurance on the shot placement, he threw his hands up in the air with pure excitement. I walked toward the spot where I last heard movement, and lo and behold, there lay my beautiful Nile Bushbuck.
I was so excited that we had harvested a Nile Bushbuck by spot and stalk. I hope I never forget that feeling, as it was one of my greatest bowhunting accomplishments. I decided to sit down beside the bushbuck and take in the spectacular landscape and my trophy. For a brief moment, I realized what the hunters of the early 1800s must have felt like in such an amazing, untamed land. Oh, how I wish I could have been hunting africa during those golden years. I cherish these moments, and I pray these memories will never fade or dim in my old age