Adrian
AH fanatic
A new day dawned and it was much too soon for my liking. I had been awake during the night with an intense headache. I had had some less painful ones in the previous nights but this was a real intense throbbing headache.
I hadn't drunk much alcohol and could see no reason for it other than perhaps the altitude and thin dry air compared to the moist, damp fug I'm used to breathing. I guess it affects people in different ways.
Knocking back some more pain relief drugs we made our way once again to breakfast in the farmhouse. Maybe a combination of coffee and Sam's breakfast helped but by the time we were finished my headache was retreating rapidly and I could look forward to the day.
We were off to the mountains again to look for gemsbok. A few had been seen during our pursuit of other game and yesterday provided a good close look when three ran across the track as we headed home with the zebra.
Philip and I had talked about gemsbok over the last couple of days and he assured me that shooting would need to be accurate and fatal. Gemsbok can take a lot of lead and refuse to give up. He said that out of all the animals hunted and lost, gemsbok topped the list of ones that got away. Several hours tracking was not unusual and due to the tenacity of the gemsbok and their ability to soak up bullets, they could keep going and going so it was with no small amount of pressure that we set off into the high ground again to look for this beautiful antelope and national animal of Namibia.
Driving up into the mountains, by yet another route and watching yet more new scenery unfold before us I reflected life was actually bloody good. My headache had gone and I really was loving every minute of my hunting experience.
Stopping occasionally to glass the hillside and valleys we at last spotted a lone gemsbok far away on an opposite slope. He or she saw us and moved off and was joined by another that I hadn't seen.
It was decided we were now going out on foot. The temperature was rising so we ditched all unnecessary clobber and went uphill.
We walked and stalked and ascended and descended for perhaps a couple of hours. There were a lot of gemsbok to be found, they were on the slopes, in the bush and in the valleys but all eluded us despite our best efforts. I suppose a party of four people wasn't the most conducive to a successful and stealthy hunt but Philip was patient and happy for Sonia and Ella to accompany us and as long as everyone was enjoying the experience, that was the most important. Hunting was the activity and funnily enough, killing something was just not important and I didn't want any pressure to affect enjoyment.
There were plenty of other things to look at too, a small bachelor group of young kudu bulls and several groups of Hartmann's zebra were up there in the mountains.
Our progress continued, always looking for more gemsbok and we enjoyed yet more Khomas Hochland scenery on our stalk.
Just after the above photo was taken, things happened pretty bloody fast.
A group of four gemsbok burst from some cover just in front of us and ran off away and onto an opposite slope.
Philip also set off running and I followed, somewhat a little way behind him because the ground was strewn with rocks and loose stones and I didn't want to trip and fall, twist my ankle or my personal worry, dislocate my knee which has happened to me on three occasions.
By the time I caught up with him, he had deployed the sticks and I immediately rested the rifle on the fork. The gemsbok were still running but one by one, stopping to look back at us.
One, which was in the clearest field of vision had stopped under a tree at just over 100m and as my rifle found the sticks, my eye found the crosshairs in the scope and my thumb slipped off the safety catch, Philip said to shoot that one. I raised my head slightly to confirm with my own eyes that we were looking at the same animal and whispered the same confirmation to him. He replied in the affirmative and I found the gemsbok through the Zeiss scope which I had wound up to it's full 8x power.
I remember a branch sticking up midway between me and the bull which was waving about in the breeze and I hoped my bullet didn't catch it and deflect.
I squeezed the trigger and felt the rifle slam back into my shoulder. Through the scope, the gemsbok folded on the spot and dropped, rolling a couple of feet to rest.
I reloaded and checked through the scope to confirm what I had seen. Not believing it I looked at Philip who was smiling (mainly with relief I think) and he told me the gemsbok had dropped dead on the spot! No tracking today then!
I made the rifle safe and shouldered it before Philip and I headed over to the fallen gemsbok.
It had fallen under the same tree it stopped under and as we approached I used my cellphone to record the sight. I had felled the bull with a spine shot through the neck, killing it instantly.
I hadn't actually been aiming at the neck, I was looking for a high lung/shoulder/spine shot, hoping to take out lungs and also break shoulder and/or spine to anchor him so he didn't go too far. The branch that was waving about in my vision during the shot had probably made me pull the shot slightly to the right and I ended up with a spine shot and instant death.
I'm not one to dwell on a shot not going exactly where I aimed. A clean kill is a clean kill and the end result is what everyone strives for so handshakes and smiles and the Last Bite given.
We set him up for some photos, being very careful not to let him roll away down the slope.
Photos done we now had the very real problem of extracting the gemsbok from the side of the mountain where he had fallen. Philip got hold of Marius on the radio. The view was once again absolutely breathtaking.
What a place to hunt, what a privilege to be able to hunt a wild African animal in such a setting.
Marius appeared from the bush in front of us and we all sat down and had a drink which was well earned after our hike through the mountains.
"So Marius, how you gonna get this one out then?"
"Hmm. How the hell are we going to get this one outta here?"
Philip and Marius went off to fetch the truck and try and forge a path through to where the gemsbok lay. I remained behind with Sonia and Ella.
I was quite glad of the time and I spent it sat alone with my bull quietly reflecting on the hunt, the view before me and also the magnificent animal at my feet and being thankful my bullet had given a quick and painless death here on this mountainside. I had done my part and I would rather spend time here with him in quiet contemplation than following him wounded through the bush. He didn't deserve that.
The Land Cruiser got to us. I have no idea how. I had seen it in the valley below me, first on one ridge and then appearing on another. It eventually managed to reach our spot from over the slope on which we were sat.
How the machine didn't roll over I will never know and how Philip drove it with the door shut I also will never understand. I would've been hanging out the door and ready to jump. Marius and I tried to move whatever large rocks we could to help create a reasonable driving surface.
It came a stop a short distance from the bull, the terrain finally beating it and we were faced with having to lift and drag the body of the gemsbok to within winching distance. I took the head and tried to keep the head and cape area from dragging while the other guys took the weight of the body.
Finally loaded up there was a short hike to the top of the mountain where we all boarded the Toyota on level ground and made for the farm.
Back there the gemsbok was unloaded. I had hoped to have it caped and the back skin saved too. Luckily the lifting and dragging hadn't damaged too much skin and the hair that had been removed was on the line around the middle where the skinners would be cutting anyway so most of it was still usable.
Sam's great lunchtime cooking dealt with and we agreed to meet for our usual three o'clock coffee and biscuits.
That afternoon it was onto the plains again for another look. The windmills dotted about are, as I'm sure most people know for pulling water up from the earth. The are used to supply water to the cattle and pumped from a depth of 100m, sometimes deeper depending on the depth of the water table.
The water is also used to supply the farm and our accommodation. We drank it and cleaned our teeth in it and not once did any of our European stomachs complain.
Marius dropped us off in a dry river bed for a walk and stalk and we followed the course for a short distance before coming up the bank and into the bush.
Almost immediately two black wildebeest appeared not far from us. We watched from behind a bush as they suspiciously gazed in our direction.
Philip asked if I would be interested but as wildebeest weren't on my preferred species to hunt list I declined. I can't hunt everything on my first trip can I? I need some reason to return and if I shot a black one I would also need to hunt a blue one too wouldn't I?
Not long after we found some more black wildebeest. Now, they're a weird animal. Mad as a box of frogs, never keeping still and charging around in circles for no apparent reason. Quite entertaining to watch before they spooked properly and all took off.
The walk into the bush continued and we came upon more black and blue wildebeest. To a new hunter in Africa, this was all great and to be walking through the African bush surrounded by wild animals is something I don't think I'll ever tire of or take for granted. I was loving all of it.
An accessible and handy rock was in our path so we all mounted it and took a short rest looking across the bush. Three warthog crossed in front of us, completely oblivious to our presence or else mistaking our silhouettes for a small group of baboons.
The sun had been making it's way down to meet the hills and mountains we had hunted earlier in the day so we resumed our walk.
I remember noting that the quartz and gravel we were walking on was rounded for the most part, only the darker rocks were sharper. This could only mean that at some point in time, these stones had been under water, or at least been subject to the force of water to round their edges. I wondered how long ago this had been and how old these stones were upon which I was walking. There was certainly no water course here so I supposed this was a prehistoric landscape. I'm no geologist and maybe way off the mark but it gave me cause to ponder.
A herd of blue wildebeest came through the bush, totally unaware of our being close by. Philip asked if I would like to shoot one for meat and of course I agreed. Leaving Sonia and Ella out of sight and with a suitable vantage point, Philip and I started our stalk to narrow the distance.
He set me up on the sticks and then looked for a young animal that would be a good one to take from the herd.
Selection made he identified it to me and I repeated it back so we knew we were talking about the same animal. There was another behind it so I waited for the target animal to become safe to shoot and when it did I took it with a shoulder shot from about 100m.
A short dash and it crashed down dead at the base of a camel thorn tree.
The other wildebeest were completely ignorant of our proximity and at the shot they milled about and then took off. We let them go and disappear without revealing ourselves as it was better for them not to associate the sound of a shot with the presence of humans.
The young wildebeest had died instantly and we approached with Voodoo.
Although not a trophy animal I wanted a few photos as it was my first wildebeest and the closest I have ever been to one before. The light was going but we managed a couple while Philip tried to call Marius.
We had ended up in a dry river bed which, as a low point had no radio reception so Philip walked to a high piece of ground to call in the truck.
Plenty of warthog activity in the soft sand.
It was dark by the time it arrived but we winched aboard the wildebeest and journeyed back to base.
The wildebeest hanging up, Marius gutted it while I held the torch for him. Just over the fence some jackals scented blood and they started calling.
It was later than usual but we grabbed a shower and went over to the farm for dinner. Sam had prepared fish and chips tonight in honour of his British diners! It was very very good.
I hadn't drunk much alcohol and could see no reason for it other than perhaps the altitude and thin dry air compared to the moist, damp fug I'm used to breathing. I guess it affects people in different ways.
Knocking back some more pain relief drugs we made our way once again to breakfast in the farmhouse. Maybe a combination of coffee and Sam's breakfast helped but by the time we were finished my headache was retreating rapidly and I could look forward to the day.
We were off to the mountains again to look for gemsbok. A few had been seen during our pursuit of other game and yesterday provided a good close look when three ran across the track as we headed home with the zebra.
Philip and I had talked about gemsbok over the last couple of days and he assured me that shooting would need to be accurate and fatal. Gemsbok can take a lot of lead and refuse to give up. He said that out of all the animals hunted and lost, gemsbok topped the list of ones that got away. Several hours tracking was not unusual and due to the tenacity of the gemsbok and their ability to soak up bullets, they could keep going and going so it was with no small amount of pressure that we set off into the high ground again to look for this beautiful antelope and national animal of Namibia.
Driving up into the mountains, by yet another route and watching yet more new scenery unfold before us I reflected life was actually bloody good. My headache had gone and I really was loving every minute of my hunting experience.
Stopping occasionally to glass the hillside and valleys we at last spotted a lone gemsbok far away on an opposite slope. He or she saw us and moved off and was joined by another that I hadn't seen.
It was decided we were now going out on foot. The temperature was rising so we ditched all unnecessary clobber and went uphill.
We walked and stalked and ascended and descended for perhaps a couple of hours. There were a lot of gemsbok to be found, they were on the slopes, in the bush and in the valleys but all eluded us despite our best efforts. I suppose a party of four people wasn't the most conducive to a successful and stealthy hunt but Philip was patient and happy for Sonia and Ella to accompany us and as long as everyone was enjoying the experience, that was the most important. Hunting was the activity and funnily enough, killing something was just not important and I didn't want any pressure to affect enjoyment.
There were plenty of other things to look at too, a small bachelor group of young kudu bulls and several groups of Hartmann's zebra were up there in the mountains.
Our progress continued, always looking for more gemsbok and we enjoyed yet more Khomas Hochland scenery on our stalk.
Just after the above photo was taken, things happened pretty bloody fast.
A group of four gemsbok burst from some cover just in front of us and ran off away and onto an opposite slope.
Philip also set off running and I followed, somewhat a little way behind him because the ground was strewn with rocks and loose stones and I didn't want to trip and fall, twist my ankle or my personal worry, dislocate my knee which has happened to me on three occasions.
By the time I caught up with him, he had deployed the sticks and I immediately rested the rifle on the fork. The gemsbok were still running but one by one, stopping to look back at us.
One, which was in the clearest field of vision had stopped under a tree at just over 100m and as my rifle found the sticks, my eye found the crosshairs in the scope and my thumb slipped off the safety catch, Philip said to shoot that one. I raised my head slightly to confirm with my own eyes that we were looking at the same animal and whispered the same confirmation to him. He replied in the affirmative and I found the gemsbok through the Zeiss scope which I had wound up to it's full 8x power.
I remember a branch sticking up midway between me and the bull which was waving about in the breeze and I hoped my bullet didn't catch it and deflect.
I squeezed the trigger and felt the rifle slam back into my shoulder. Through the scope, the gemsbok folded on the spot and dropped, rolling a couple of feet to rest.
I reloaded and checked through the scope to confirm what I had seen. Not believing it I looked at Philip who was smiling (mainly with relief I think) and he told me the gemsbok had dropped dead on the spot! No tracking today then!
I made the rifle safe and shouldered it before Philip and I headed over to the fallen gemsbok.
It had fallen under the same tree it stopped under and as we approached I used my cellphone to record the sight. I had felled the bull with a spine shot through the neck, killing it instantly.
I hadn't actually been aiming at the neck, I was looking for a high lung/shoulder/spine shot, hoping to take out lungs and also break shoulder and/or spine to anchor him so he didn't go too far. The branch that was waving about in my vision during the shot had probably made me pull the shot slightly to the right and I ended up with a spine shot and instant death.
I'm not one to dwell on a shot not going exactly where I aimed. A clean kill is a clean kill and the end result is what everyone strives for so handshakes and smiles and the Last Bite given.
We set him up for some photos, being very careful not to let him roll away down the slope.
Photos done we now had the very real problem of extracting the gemsbok from the side of the mountain where he had fallen. Philip got hold of Marius on the radio. The view was once again absolutely breathtaking.
What a place to hunt, what a privilege to be able to hunt a wild African animal in such a setting.
Marius appeared from the bush in front of us and we all sat down and had a drink which was well earned after our hike through the mountains.
"So Marius, how you gonna get this one out then?"
"Hmm. How the hell are we going to get this one outta here?"
Philip and Marius went off to fetch the truck and try and forge a path through to where the gemsbok lay. I remained behind with Sonia and Ella.
I was quite glad of the time and I spent it sat alone with my bull quietly reflecting on the hunt, the view before me and also the magnificent animal at my feet and being thankful my bullet had given a quick and painless death here on this mountainside. I had done my part and I would rather spend time here with him in quiet contemplation than following him wounded through the bush. He didn't deserve that.
The Land Cruiser got to us. I have no idea how. I had seen it in the valley below me, first on one ridge and then appearing on another. It eventually managed to reach our spot from over the slope on which we were sat.
How the machine didn't roll over I will never know and how Philip drove it with the door shut I also will never understand. I would've been hanging out the door and ready to jump. Marius and I tried to move whatever large rocks we could to help create a reasonable driving surface.
It came a stop a short distance from the bull, the terrain finally beating it and we were faced with having to lift and drag the body of the gemsbok to within winching distance. I took the head and tried to keep the head and cape area from dragging while the other guys took the weight of the body.
Finally loaded up there was a short hike to the top of the mountain where we all boarded the Toyota on level ground and made for the farm.
Back there the gemsbok was unloaded. I had hoped to have it caped and the back skin saved too. Luckily the lifting and dragging hadn't damaged too much skin and the hair that had been removed was on the line around the middle where the skinners would be cutting anyway so most of it was still usable.
Sam's great lunchtime cooking dealt with and we agreed to meet for our usual three o'clock coffee and biscuits.
That afternoon it was onto the plains again for another look. The windmills dotted about are, as I'm sure most people know for pulling water up from the earth. The are used to supply water to the cattle and pumped from a depth of 100m, sometimes deeper depending on the depth of the water table.
The water is also used to supply the farm and our accommodation. We drank it and cleaned our teeth in it and not once did any of our European stomachs complain.
Marius dropped us off in a dry river bed for a walk and stalk and we followed the course for a short distance before coming up the bank and into the bush.
Almost immediately two black wildebeest appeared not far from us. We watched from behind a bush as they suspiciously gazed in our direction.
Philip asked if I would be interested but as wildebeest weren't on my preferred species to hunt list I declined. I can't hunt everything on my first trip can I? I need some reason to return and if I shot a black one I would also need to hunt a blue one too wouldn't I?
Not long after we found some more black wildebeest. Now, they're a weird animal. Mad as a box of frogs, never keeping still and charging around in circles for no apparent reason. Quite entertaining to watch before they spooked properly and all took off.
The walk into the bush continued and we came upon more black and blue wildebeest. To a new hunter in Africa, this was all great and to be walking through the African bush surrounded by wild animals is something I don't think I'll ever tire of or take for granted. I was loving all of it.
An accessible and handy rock was in our path so we all mounted it and took a short rest looking across the bush. Three warthog crossed in front of us, completely oblivious to our presence or else mistaking our silhouettes for a small group of baboons.
The sun had been making it's way down to meet the hills and mountains we had hunted earlier in the day so we resumed our walk.
I remember noting that the quartz and gravel we were walking on was rounded for the most part, only the darker rocks were sharper. This could only mean that at some point in time, these stones had been under water, or at least been subject to the force of water to round their edges. I wondered how long ago this had been and how old these stones were upon which I was walking. There was certainly no water course here so I supposed this was a prehistoric landscape. I'm no geologist and maybe way off the mark but it gave me cause to ponder.
A herd of blue wildebeest came through the bush, totally unaware of our being close by. Philip asked if I would like to shoot one for meat and of course I agreed. Leaving Sonia and Ella out of sight and with a suitable vantage point, Philip and I started our stalk to narrow the distance.
He set me up on the sticks and then looked for a young animal that would be a good one to take from the herd.
Selection made he identified it to me and I repeated it back so we knew we were talking about the same animal. There was another behind it so I waited for the target animal to become safe to shoot and when it did I took it with a shoulder shot from about 100m.
A short dash and it crashed down dead at the base of a camel thorn tree.
The other wildebeest were completely ignorant of our proximity and at the shot they milled about and then took off. We let them go and disappear without revealing ourselves as it was better for them not to associate the sound of a shot with the presence of humans.
The young wildebeest had died instantly and we approached with Voodoo.
Although not a trophy animal I wanted a few photos as it was my first wildebeest and the closest I have ever been to one before. The light was going but we managed a couple while Philip tried to call Marius.
We had ended up in a dry river bed which, as a low point had no radio reception so Philip walked to a high piece of ground to call in the truck.
Plenty of warthog activity in the soft sand.
It was dark by the time it arrived but we winched aboard the wildebeest and journeyed back to base.
The wildebeest hanging up, Marius gutted it while I held the torch for him. Just over the fence some jackals scented blood and they started calling.
It was later than usual but we grabbed a shower and went over to the farm for dinner. Sam had prepared fish and chips tonight in honour of his British diners! It was very very good.
Last edited:
