A Hunters Are Gracious Story

Mark Audino

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I have been blessed by others, and some of the greatest blessings have come from fellow hunters. I’d like to share a story of gracious gestures pertaining to one trip that I just cannot forget even though it occurred several years ago.

GRACIOUS GESTURE #1. Whomever coined the phrase “everything is relative” was a philosopher of note. Way back when, I took my first trip to Mongolia for Gobi Argali, Gobi Ibex and Maral Stag. Cost then? $12,000 for the 3 animals. Cost today? Well over $100,000 depending on the outfitter and area. But $12,000 was a big stretch financially for me then and it’s not spare change now either.

I had a global hunting mentor who was tight with Bert and Chris Klineberger, the famous taxidermists and hunting consultants, both of whom were genuine authorities based on the hunting territories they pioneered and opened up for others across Asian and Africa. I was on the phone with my mentor who liked to check in daily with me. I told him that I wanted to hunt Mongolia because at that time taking a 6X6 Maral stag was a safer bet there than elk in North America. But the big pull was the sheep and ibex. In that discussion with my mentor, he asked if I had booked the trip. I told my mentor that I was still saving money for the deposit that was needed. There was a brief pause and he patched Bert in on the call. Here’s how it went down. “Bert, Mark wants to hunt Mongolia but only has a thousand bucks for a deposit. Can you help him?” Bert didn’t even hesitate. “Sure” was his answer.

So, I sent the grand to Bert and I was booked. I then followed up with the remaining payments due over time, and in addition, sent an extra grand for him to hold in escrow in case I needed it while I was on the trip. I never forgot Bert’s support and applied that lesson to others who I in turn personally advised over the years later.

GRACIOUS GESTURE #2: Fast forward a few months, and I was walking down Gokey Street in Moscow heading to my hotel with my duffel bag and gun in tow. I had to overnight in Moscow before catching a flight the next day to Irkutsk before connecting to Ulaanbaatar. While at the hotel that night, my phone rang and it was a guy who said he took care of visiting hunters for the hunting consultants. We met for some touring that night. He was a real piece of work, but he was totally genuine and helpful. I sent most of my cash on some souvenirs and paying him, and saved the rest of my cash for tips in Mongolia.

Two days later and I was hunting the Gobi Argali and Gobi Ibex in the desert, and Maral Stag in the birch forest near the Siberian border. I was lucky to take all three animals and shot a particularly good ram. The pricing structure at that time called for a premium to be paid per inch if the ram exceeded the average threshold. Mine exceeded that. I once I got back to Ulaanbaatar, I was going to send a telex to Bert and have him wire the money to pay the trophy surcharge due from my escrow only to realize I didn’t have enough cash on hand to pay for hotel to send the wire. Guys, this was 1987. No cell phones. No credit cards accepted. It was either wire payments, cash, or AMEX Travelers Checks for everything in the country.

I retreated to the hotel’s dining hall and sat down over a cup of tea wondering how to get the money sent over. A gentleman approached my table and asked if he could join me. It was obvious that we were both Yanks who had been hunting. When he asked when I was leaving, I explained that was still to be determined based on needing to settle my bill first with the outfitting company for the trophy surcharge. He asked how much I needed, to which I said “around 500 bucks”. I think he was mid-bite on whatever he was eating and he told me to follow him. He didn’t know me from Adam, but we went to his room and he gave me $500 bucks. I was profusely thankful. The man was none other than Phil Dubeau, and I hope he doesn’t mind me sharing a picture of the Ovis Ammon Ammon that he took there. Klinebergers refunded Phil the $500 that he had lent me and we stayed in touch for a while after we both returned to USA.

Several years passed, I wrote to Phil thinking he was still working in Florida just to thank him again for what will always be one of the greatest hunter-to-hunter gestures I have ever experienced. After about 9 months, I received a letter with some African postage on the front, and it was from Phil. He was a PH operating in Africa! Small world. Incredible human being. Again, I took his trust and generosity forward in helping others because the hunting brotherhood is uniquely built on bedrock of trust and support for each other.

This is just one example of why I believe hunters are the must humanistic of our species.

What have you experienced?

Altai Argali.jpg
 
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This is an excellent thread @Mark Audino , thanks for sharing. I will share some of mine as well, but first need to write them out :)
 
I have been blessed by others, and some of the greatest blessings have come from fellow hunters. I’d like to share a story of gracious gestures pertaining to one trip that I just cannot forget even though it occurred several years ago.

GRACIOUS GESTURE #1. Whomever coined the phrase “everything is relative” was a philosopher of note. Way back when, I took my first trip to Mongolia for Gobi Argali, Gobi Ibex and Maral Stag. Cost then? $12,000 for the 3 animals. Cost today? Well over $100,000 depending on the outfitter and area. But $12,000 was a big stretch financially for me then and it’s not spare change now either.

I had a global hunting mentor who was tight with Bert and Chris Klineberger, the famous taxidermists and hunting consultants, both of whom were genuine authorities based on the hunting territories they pioneered and opened up for others across Asian and Africa. I was on the phone with my mentor who liked to check in daily with me. I told him that I wanted to hunt Mongolia because at that time taking a 6X6 Maral stag was a safer bet there than elk in North America. But the big pull was the sheep and ibex. In that discussion with my mentor, he asked if I had booked the trip. I told my mentor that I was still saving money for the deposit that was needed. There was a brief pause and he patched Bert in on the call. Here’s how it went down. “Bert, Mark wants to hunt Mongolia but only has a thousand bucks for a deposit. Can you help him?” Bert didn’t even hesitate. “Sure” was his answer.

So, I sent the grand to Bert and I was booked. I then followed up with the remaining payments due over time, and in addition, sent an extra grand for him to hold in escrow in case I needed it while I was on the trip. I never forgot Bert’s support and applied that lesson to others who I in turn personally advised over the years later.

GRACIOUS GESTURE #2: Fast forward a few months, and I was walking down Gokey Street in Moscow heading to my hotel with my duffel bag and gun in tow. I had to overnight in Moscow before catching a flight the next day to Irkutsk before connecting to Ulaanbaatar. While at the hotel that night, my phone rang and it was a guy who said he took care of visiting hunters for the hunting consultants. We met for some touring that night. He was a real piece of work, but he was totally genuine and helpful. I sent most of my cash on some souvenirs and paying him, and saved the rest of my cash for tips in Mongolia.

Two days later and I was hunting the Gobi Argali and Gobi Ibex in the desert, and Maral Stag in the birch forest near the Siberian border. I was lucky to take all three animals and shot a particularly good ram. The pricing structure at that time called for a premium to be paid per inch if the ram exceeded the average threshold. Mine exceeded that. I once I got back to Ulaanbaatar, I was going to send a telex to Bert and have him wire the money to pay the trophy surcharge due from my escrow only to realize I didn’t have enough cash on hand to pay for hotel to send the wire. Guys, this was 1987. No cell phones. No credit cards accepted. It was either wire payments, cash, or AMEX Travelers Checks for everything in the country.

I retreated to the hotel’s dining hall and sat down over a cup of tea wondering how to get the money sent over. A gentleman approached my table and asked if he could join me. It was obvious that we were both Yanks who had been hunting. When he asked when I was leaving, I explained that was still to be determined based on needing to settle my bill first with the outfitting company for the trophy surcharge. He asked how much I needed, to which I said “around 500 bucks”. I think he was mid-bite on whatever he was eating and he told me to follow him. He didn’t know me from Adam, but we went to his room and he gave me $500 bucks. I was profusely thankful. The man was none other than Phil Dubeau, and I hope he doesn’t mind me sharing a picture of the Ovis Ammon Ammon that he took there. Klinebergers refunded Phil the $500 that he had lent me and we stayed in touch for a while after we both returned to USA.

Several years passed, I wrote to Phil thinking he was still working in Florida just to thank him again for what will always be one of the greatest hunter-to-hunter gestures I have ever experienced. After about 9 months, I received a letter with some African postage on the front, and it was from Phil. He was a PH operating in Africa! Small world. Incredible human being. Again, I took his trust and generosity forward in helping others because the hunting brotherhood is uniquely built on bedrock of trust and support for each other.

This is just one example of why I believe hunters are the must humanistic of our species.

What have you experienced?

View attachment 547272
I remember my first hunt to Africa. I had only previously been to Canada and Mexico and never to another continent. I was by myself and truth be told was very nervous being just by myself. I remember getting to Jberg and needed to make my flight to Port Elizabeth when a wonderful man approached me when he saw I had on a DSC shirt asking if he could help me. He answered every one of my many questions and was just so very kind immediately relaxing me. On my other hunts I have tried to repay his kindness when I spot other hunters who I can tell are confused great thread
 
By the way, Rare Breed . . . I have had similar situations with people spotting the DSC logo somewhere pasted to my kit while traveling. I lived there during the 80s and our first conventions were located in the basement of the hotel airport located between the two in-out roads. I was on the trophy evaluation committee, and we asked the members to help us create some ambiance at the show by allowing their trophies to be displayed. We would use our trucks to pick up the trophies, if necessary. We had 35 booths for one show, and thought we were doing great. I think that has grown to 3500 booths today! I met guys like guide-author, Duncan Gilchrist, there. Some other tid bits . . . Abercrombie & Fitch had a store in Dallas back when A&F was the real A&F. Great guns could be found there. Safari shirts of cotton that didn't cause itching and lasted a lifetime. I attended their final auction of guns before they destroyed the brand that was Teddy Roosevelt's original safari equipment outfitter. On the wall at the A&F store were several mounts of sheep taken by the famous hunter-oilman, Herb Kline, author of Lucky Bwana. Those were days when Herb and Elgin Gates were very active. Take care.
 
#1
I come from a non-hunting family, no-one in my immediate vicinity hunted and my parents were vividly against guns. From a very young age I have had an inexplicable attraction and fascination with hunting, I could not get it out of my head. I was 25 or 26, once I started earning my first real paychecks, before I went off to do the hunting exam. My younger brother joined me.

But once I had done my hunting exam, there was a clear case of "Now what?". In Belgium, hunting and hunters are a quite discrete group, and as I had zero contacts through relatives or friends, I had no idea where to start. Luckily my parents found themselves on a reception where they did not know many people and struck a conversation with a couple who happened to be in the hunting world. They introduced me to a gentleman who would become my mentor in all things hunting related. Especially on ethics, customs, firearm knowledge and much more. Although he did not know my brother and I, he even undertook it to have us come over to his place to come hunt wild boar with him. I shot my first big game, a wild boar, together with him in the kansel and we had a coke as a celebration afterwards. He also aided us in the purchases of our first rifle, optic and shotgun. Without him I would probably never have gotten a good education as a hunter to begin with and perhaps been very frustrated that the activity did not live up to my expectations.

1 year later my father also did his hunting exam. We have even hunted Africa together and I now plan to go for a few days to SA, for my brother's first safari experience.

This older gentleman, expressing his interest in a two enthusiastic but complete novice hunters has had an impact on our lives far greater than could have been expected at the start.
 
#1
I come from a non-hunting family, no-one in my immediate vicinity hunted and my parents were vividly against guns. From a very young age I have had an inexplicable attraction and fascination with hunting, I could not get it out of my head. I was 25 or 26, once I started earning my first real paychecks, before I went off to do the hunting exam. My younger brother joined me.

But once I had done my hunting exam, there was a clear case of "Now what?". In Belgium, hunting and hunters are a quite discrete group, and as I had zero contacts through relatives or friends, I had no idea where to start. Luckily my parents found themselves on a reception where they did not know many people and struck a conversation with a couple who happened to be in the hunting world. They introduced me to a gentleman who would become my mentor in all things hunting related. Especially on ethics, customs, firearm knowledge and much more. Although he did not know my brother and I, he even undertook it to have us come over to his place to come hunt wild boar with him. I shot my first big game, a wild boar, together with him in the kansel and we had a coke as a celebration afterwards. He also aided us in the purchases of our first rifle, optic and shotgun. Without him I would probably never have gotten a good education as a hunter to begin with and perhaps been very frustrated that the activity did not live up to my expectations.

1 year later my father also did his hunting exam. We have even hunted Africa together and I now plan to go for a few days to SA, for my brother's first safari experience.

This older gentleman, expressing his interest in a two enthusiastic but complete novice hunters has had an impact on our lives far greater than could have been expected at the start.
Great story and the comprehensive guidance you received showed that they really cared. It's a great model to follow.
 
Great story and the comprehensive guidance you received showed that they really cared. It's a great model to follow.
As this gentleman is starting to have his age catch up on his physical abilities, it is my goal to one day take one of his sons with me on safari.

And of course, my daughter(s) will hopefully join me in my footsteps :)
 
On that note, yes, do take the girls. My oldest daughter was in her senior year of college when I had a free-range rhino hunt planned in the Mkuze CHA, Zululand and plains game in two other areas. I suggested that she ask her professors for permission to accompany me. To a one, they all agreed and told her that she would learn more on safari than she would in their classes. It still surprises me to this day that they not only agreed but that they knew I was a hunter. But I hardly think she would get the same answer from them if she asked today. The upshot is that there is no time like the present to go and to take them when you can.
 
I have been helped through the years by dozens of gracious hunters. And try to pay them back by doing the same.

I was selling a compound bow on a national forum and a young man PM’d me wanting to pay for the bow in payments. We talked on the phone and I could tell he was a good kid.

I told him he could have the bow for 1/2 the posted price and send me the money when he could earn it.
He raised the money quickly and paid me.

I told him to remember to pass it on.
 
I first began hunting in 1961 when I hunted jack snipe with my father in the rice fields behind our family home. In the last 62 years of my life as a hunter, I've witnessed countless acts of kindness from amongst our fellow outdoorsmen. Here are 5 of the highlights that immediately come to mind:

1) It was my Commanding Officer, Brigadier General Mahmudul Hassan who introduced me to hunting in Africa. During the war, it was soon discovered that he and I shared a strong mutual passion for hunting. During our conversations, I told him about how watching Stewart Granger films (King Solomons Mines, The Last Safari) had ignited a fascination in me to hunt in Africa someday. But that it was extremely unlikely that I would ever actually be able to go to Africa. The General (who had already hunted in Africa twice before) told me that nothing is impossible if you really want it badly enough and that I should keep an open mind. After the war, I never pursued any future career in the army and started working for the Department of Forests as the head of an anti-poaching unit. But the General regularly stayed in touch with me, even though I was just a lowly Staff Sergeant during the war. In 1974, the General told me to pack my bags because I would be going on an African safari with him to Kenya. I asked how much money I should contribute for the Safari. The General threatened to shoot me if I ever asked about paying money ever again. And true enough, he paid for my entire Safari (when I successfully bagged 12 head of plains game and a Cape buffalo). I could never ever repay him for that, but more importantly… he ignited an addiction in me to start going on African safaris once every couple of years. Later when I was running for my first term as Member of Parliament, he provided me with very generous gifts of funds for my campaigns. Even though he passed away from emphysema in 2005, I still miss him very dearly. All his life, he wanted to hunt a man eating Royal Bengal tiger in the Sundarbans. When the kill-order for the Man Eater of Atharobeki was issued by the Ministry of Forests in 1989, the General tried his level best to hunt down that tiger. Even though I was the one who eventually succeeded in shooting and killing the man eater, I genuinely wish that it was General Hassan and not me who ended the tiger’s rampage.
IMG_1792.jpeg

2) When I hunted in Tanzania in 1978, we had a South Carolina gentleman in camp by the name of Dave Bourban. He had a tattoo of the American confederate flag on each of his forearms and spoke with a strong Southern accent. If modern leftist tabloid journalists took just one look at the man, then they would immediately declare him to be the stereotypical racist. In reality, I found Dave to be anything but. He was a true gent in every sense of the word. Extremely friendly with me, our white hunters and even the trackers and coolies. He had brought along 2 rifles on Safari: a custom made .375 Holland & Holland Magnum built on a Remington Model 30 Express action and a Belgium made boxlock ejector double rifle in .458 Winchester Magnum (a guild gun). During one of our evening campfire chats after a long day of hunting eland, I casually mentioned to him that I had always dreamt of hunting dangerous game in Africa with a double rifle someday. Dave immediately told me “Habib, I’ll be mighty pleased if you bag your Cape buffalo with my .458 double. Don’t worry about me. I can get by with my .375 bolt gun just fine for the rest of my Safari. “ I was greatly taken back by Dave’s kindness. I did succeed in securing a huge Cape buffalo with Dave’s double rifle on that very safari, and thus my dream of being able to pursue dangerous game with a double rifle was fulfilled. Dave and I became the best of friends for all his life. We went together on Safari again in 2000. He greatly assisted me in getting dual citizenship in the USA in 1988. And when my daughter was studying Business during her college years in the USA, Dave and his family were were very caring towards her. I frequently invited him to come and hunt with me in Bengal, and he absolutely loved hunting Axis deer and Sambar deer and Nilgai in their natural habitat. I feel very rotten on the inside as I write this, because in all those years of our friendship… Dave only ever wanted one thing from me. And I could never give it to him. He really dreamt of hunting a Royal Bengal tiger and once asked me in 1985 if I could arrange it for him since I was (at the time) serving my second term as DFO (Divisional Forest Officer) of the Sundarbans. I heavy heartedly told him that this was one thing which I could never provide him with, since it was illegal. He politely understood and never requested this from me ever again. However, I promised him that the next time the Ministry of Forests would issue a kill-order for a man eating Royal Bengal tiger… I would contact Dave immediately. Unfortunately, this never materialized. Only 3 such kill-orders were issued ever since (the last being in 1989 for the man eater of Atharobeki). And each time when I had tried to contact Dave, he was either in Alaska or Australia or in Africa at the time. Dave passed away from the Chinese virus in 2020, and I deeply regret denying his request now that I think about it. At that time, I was basically King of the Sundarban mangrove forests due to my post. I could have easily arranged one Royal Bengal tiger hunt for him discreetly without facing any legal repercussions. Considering how many are routinely being slaughtered by poachers for commercial profit, I’m certain that no one would begrudge Dave one Royal Bengal tiger.
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3) When Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II visited the Sundarbans in 1983 during her state visit to Bengal, she was extremely kind and courteous to me and all of my staff who assisted her in her Axis deer hunt and golden snipe hunt. Even though she was a British monarch, she personally remembered the name of each and every single member of my staff who were assigned to serve her. From everyday forest guards to lowly boatmen. She was so motherly and friendly.
IMG_1757.jpeg

4) When I first hunted Ibex and Urial in Pakistan in 1982, I quickly learnt that Mr. Kamal Khan (my outfitter) had served on the Pakistani side during the Indo-Pak war in 1971. Since I had served in the Bengali side, one would typically expect both of us to be quite tense & awkward with each other (if not outright hostile). After all, both of our sides had committed great acts of barbaric cruelty towards each other. But we both became fast friends and it immediately became clear that neither of us bore any ill will towards each other. Our countries might have been enemies, but we had left any feelings of hostility towards each other’s countries back at the battle field in ‘71. Over the years, he has given me several discounted hunts in Pakistan. And I have taken him to hunt Axis deer in Bengal.
IMG_2307.jpeg

5) My forest guards were all incredibly faithful to me during my time in the Department of forests. When I had failed to hunt down the man eater of Talpatti in 1987, I was extremely fearful of losing my job since I was unable to stop the Royal Bengal tiger’s depredations. Two of them went well out of their way to risk their lives and kill the man eater (via gun-trap), just to save my face & job in front of the Ministry of Forests. On the day that my final term as DFO of the Sundarbans came to an end, all of my forest guards began to shower me with gifts purchased from their meager incomes (food, a live goat, live chickens, a very nice hat, a large hunting knife forged from leaf spring steel). Some of them were sobbing. On that day, I felt perhaps the proudest I have ever been in all my life. I had won the hearts and minds of these people. I am still friends with several of them, even though I retired from the Department of Forests back in 1993.
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Yes, hunting has brought more friends into my life than any other of my activities.

I can keep going on and on, about the countless white hunters & trackers & camp staff who always behaved so pleasantly with me during all of my safaris. But an entire book is needed for that.
 
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Dear Hunter-Habib,

Wow! You delighted me and will delight anyone else who reads this insightful history of your relationships and successes. Hats off to you. Your recollection of details was most impressive and entertaining. Many of us cherish safari history and seem to have a photographic memory for the pictures, people, and stories of those who have gone before us. You did a really great job.

Although tiger hunting preceded my personal in-field adventures, the culture and nature of it always intrigued me. My mentor, who was billed in Bert Klineberger's book as one of the greatest post-WWII elephant hunters, took a massive tiger and I have a picture of him with it in my office.

And before leaving the thoughts of his kindness to me, I can tell you that he took many 100-pounders in Kenya when the licenses cost $100 each. Can you imagine a safari that resulted in taking 3 ele over 100 pounds each? He shot a Johann Fanzoj .458 double and one of the earliest Winchester Model 70 Safaris in .458. I watched film of him taking 100-pound tuskers with the M70. I was awe-struck to say the least. He took the tiger with the Fanzoj.

How I met him was interesting. With my photographic memory for guns and hunting always active, I had just graduated from university and moved to Chicago to start my first job. I rented a modest apartment in the suburbs. One day while getting in my car, I noticed a guy in a Lincoln Continental driving through the parking lot. I only got a glimpse of the side of his head. That was enough. I correlated that view of his head with African taxidermy mounts hanging in the apartment complex social center and a picture of his trophy room in The Weatherby Guide. I found out he was the developer of the apartment complex, called him, and introduced myself. And that was that. And ironically one day, I found myself heading to Sonora Mexico to hunt Desert Mule Deer, and there he was on my flight headed to hunt with the same outfitter!

Anyway, hunting has led to so many great relationships and learnings. When I meet the people on the ground who work hard to help us be successful, it's impossible to understand how wars happen. Real people just want to make a living and enjoy life as best as they can.

Thank you, again. Happy hunting and take care!
 
I would. Just your short stories here are fascinating. Tiger hunting ? Are you kidding me ?
 

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can you send some pics of the 2.5-10 zeiss. I can't click on the pics to see the details. You noted some scratches. thx.
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