NAMIBIA: Khomas Highland Hunting Safaris Followed By Self Drive

Adrian

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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.

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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.

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Our progress continued, always looking for more gemsbok and we enjoyed yet more Khomas Hochland scenery on our stalk.

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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.

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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! (y)

I made the rifle safe and shouldered it before Philip and I headed over to the fallen gemsbok.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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"So Marius, how you gonna get this one out then?" :E Spiteful: :A Whistle:

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"Hmm. How the hell are we going to get this one outta here?" :E Hmmm:

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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? :A Hey:

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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. :A Thumbs Up:
 
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huntermn15

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Adrian,
I am totally enjoy your report and photos. You and the rest of the crew on this site, is making it difficult for me to live up to the standard when I write my report upon returning from my first safari.
Mike
 

rinehart0050

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Great report so far! Thanks for posting.
 

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You are doing a fine job of writing. Great report. looks like a great time. Bruce
 

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way to go Adrian , when you take a meat animal for the camp , are you permitted to keep the horns and/or skin ?
great that your girls are following the hunt ,right there by your side .
like also that you are leaving a couple of species for your return visit , it sticks out like balls on a dog ,that you will 100%return .....
 

Adrian

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Thank you for the kind words, I will get back to the report when time permits.

@bluey, I didn't even ask about the horns and skin. As far as I was concerned Philip offered me the opportunity to hunt the wildebeest for meat and not a trophy and I suppose it was like an unspoken gentleman's agreement so to ask for the horns and hide would not be quite right if I wasn't paying a trophy fee.
I guess if I wanted them I could've paid the fee but in that case it may have been better to hunt an older animal as opposed to a younger one. :)
 

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Glad you are taking the effort to share your experience in this style
Thanks.

This is an outstanding pose for a trophy picture. Awesome.

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Adrian

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Thank you for comment regarding the photo. It was searching for something a little different which didn't have the kudu propped up in an unnatural position but at the same time wasn't of an animal sprawled out dead and yet still showed off the horns, this just seemed to work best.

So on with the report.

The fifth day (fourth hunting) dawned once again with the usual bright sunshine and impossibly blue sky. I don't think anyone could ever become bored of that colour.

Breakfast consumed and loaded up in the hunting car it was off to the plains area of the farm to see what was about.

The drive to the ground was again full of interesting things from the steenbok to the vultures to the other birdlife. We saw Kori Bustards, Pale Chanting Goshawk, Rosy Faced Lovebirds the Yellow Billed Hornbills, Cape Turtle Doves and Guniea Fowl as always.

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The Red Hartebeest were out and about this morning and having been staring at a very nice hartebeest trophy every morning on the wall while I ate breakfast, it was an animal that I had in mind to hunt prior to arriving in Namibia and now I was there my mind was made up.

A discussion over dinner on one of the previous evenings had also brought up the subject of hartebeest. Philip's father had said how difficult a hunt they actually are because they kept on the move and were very alert. Every animal contributes a pair of eyes and ears to avoid and to get within range of a good bull was one of the most challenging and rewarding experiences that the hunter could face on a plains game hunt in his opinion. By the end of the day I was in total agreement.

They're a strange looking animal, not everyone's idea of a beautiful antelope I'm sure but to me, very intriguing and because of the odd look, uniquely charming and looking full of character.
We passed by a few small groups that were content to watch us go by.

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There were plenty of blue and black wildebeest out there on the plains too in mixed herds. This group obligingly posed for a few photos. The dominant bull keeping watch from behind a tree before deciding enough was enough and they all galloped off followed by the black variety which were to the right behind some trees.

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With the game in abundance it was decided the best course of action would be to stop and get off the hunting car and go for a walk so approaching a reservoir by the track we dismounted the Toyota and squeezed through the wire strands of a cattle fence and began our walk.

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I also managed to get a quick shot of a steenbok with the camera. A task that had been unbelievably difficult up to now because the little guys don't hang around for long. This one stood there a little longer than most just quivering slightly as stood waiting for us to pass and hoping being still was the best thing to do.
Sonia was particularly taken with these tiny antelope and I had made a tentative enquiry about hunting one and was met with a look that undeniably said 'NO'. That same look also singed my eyebrows.

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I have to admit, I was also taken in by the charm of the steenbok and loved seeing them around. I think Philip also likes them too because when I enquired if many hunters want to hunt them he replied 'Thankfully not'. I think mainly because they are an opportunist target from the truck when a good one is spotted and it goes against the hunting ethic that Khomas Highland Safaris like to abide by but they also have to cater for the wishes of the paying client so steenbok are a reluctant target.

My digression over it is back to the hunt.

I have no idea how long we were out there on the plains nor how far we walked. We had come across a large herd of hartebeest and they were joined by black and blue wildebeest. That added up to a large amount of eyes and ears. How many animals were there altogether, I don't know but possibly getting on towards seventy beests, very likely more.

We followed the herd through the thorns, through the dust, over rocks and gravel and stalked them tree to tree through the long grass. We got close several times and at those moments through the bush we appeared to be surrounded by the animals. One would be spotted looking at us so we froze before another came into view and then another and another.

It was a fantastic stalk. It was hot, it was dusty and the herd was always one step ahead of us. I was on the sticks twice with my target animal large in the crosshairs but always another was behind or moving in front so no shot was possible. Time and distance went by and after the herd spooked for the fourth time and disappeared over the horizon we were ready to admit defeat.
Defeat only in terms of not getting a shot but not in terms of reward. I loved every minute and every scratch on my legs and arms that I accumulated. It was proper hunting once again, on foot, fair chase through the bush, pitting our wits against the wily hartebeest who were ever alert to us and whose sense of danger kept them just out of reach.

As we made our way to the truck my respect for the red hartebeest was very much enhanced.

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Day two.

We had arranged at dinner the previous night to meet for breakfast at the rather civilised time of 07:30. I was surprised as I had guessed we would be up and out at first light but I didn't argue, it had been a long journey and I had gotten very little sleep on the plane.

We arrived at the front door to the farm and were shown to the breakfast room. An open fire was burning in the corner and the table was laid up for us. We took some coffee and tea for Ella while Sam cooked us fried eggs to go with our toast, cheeses and salami. Perfect.

Philip warned me we would have to look and work hard for a kudu as they had dispersed into the higher areas of the farm but there was a good chance of finding one at some point. To be honest, I was genuinely not bothered. I was in Namibia and now I was there, the experience had taken over everything I had previously thought about.

I assured Philip that I was completely happy to go along with whatever he suggested. This was my first time and I knew nothing other than what I had read on the internet and in books and magazines. I was very content to go with the flow and take whatever chances came my way. Philip had an idea of the species I would like to hunt so I left it to him with (I hope) absolutely no pressure other than to have a good time.

Breakfast finished we were ready by about 08:00. We grabbed our stuff, water, cameras, rifle and bullets and headed back to the front of the farm and met Marius our driver who had brought the hunting car to the front and was waiting to go.

Loaded up, we were also accompanied by Voodoo, Philip's Rhodesian Ridgeback and we set off into the bush.

A quick note about the farm. It is a cattle farm and hunting is a secondary income and concern. The cattle raised there are sold for beef and Dietmar had told us that many of his animals end up in London and are sold to McDonalds. I have no qualms about eating there now as the beef is surely of the highest quality and free from the crap us Europeans and Americans pump into our meat.

Importantly there are no game fences. All wild game is free to move throughout the area and is not restricted in any way shape or form. The only fences on the property are low cattle fences to contain the herds.

All hunting is carried out on an ethical basis and by fair chase on foot. The hunting car is used to transport you to an area and then you are out on the hunt. Sometimes over the course of the next few days we would spot game from the car and then go stalking, other times it would drop us off and we would walk and spot and stalk. The only concession to this rule is for vermin such as jackals which can be shot from the car but I'm sure nobody can have a problem with that.

So, off we went. We drove out and not long after we came across vultures in the low acacia treetops, about 15-20 of them, there was likely to be something dead nearby. We saw many southern yellow billed hornbills which are very common and saw our first warthogs as we traversed a dry reservoir.

I have no idea how long we had been driving before Philip stopped the car with a tap on the cab roof.

He had seen some kudu.

We all looked and yep, I couldn't see them. I'm used to looking for roe deer, a nice red/brown colour against our lush and green English countryside. How on earth can I see rock and brush coloured animals against a rock and brush covered landscape?

Eventually I found them and there was a bull down there. I remember noting how the sunlight glinted off his horns, more so than I expected.

Philip decided we should get a closer look so suddenly here I was, stalking on foot in Africa. It was quite a moment for me.

I followed Philip and Sonia and Ella followed me. The ground underfoot is sandy but with many loose rocks and gravel. Low acacia scrub interspersed with dry grass grew on the surface. We followed a dry watercourse and went behind some larger rocks which sent the dassies scattering. We bumped some warthogs as we went along too.

Suddenly I found myself puffing and panting which was a little surprising, I hadn't actually done anything to exert myself and I'm reasonably fit, my job is mainly walking and I cycle 15 to 30 miles whenever I'm not at work.

I tried to disguise it in case Philip wondered what on earth he had got hunting with him but quickly gave up when trying to hide it made it worse. I reasoned it was the thin, dry air and the altitude, both of which I am unused to so I gave in and panted like a steam train. Better to take it easy and arrive on a possible shot in good shape to take it than try and be a hero and be fighting for breath as your dream animal jumps about in the crosshairs because you can't hold steady.

We finally came out onto a ridge behind some low bush and were much closer to the kudu herd. The bull was alert to us and was standing there watching with the sun shining off his horns which I noted were quite wide. Philip spotted another bull but I was unsighted at this point. This one hadn't seen us and was feeding slowly, going from left to right. While I tried to spot him my attention was drawn to a young bull with some cows and also a gemsbok and baboon at the base of a rocky outcrop.

After a short time, the second kudu came into my vision. Philip took a another look and confirmed this was a shooter. We slowly shuffled/crawled forward to a low rock while Sonia and Ella remained hidden in the bushes.

I assumed we would try and get closer so imagine my surprise when Philip handed me his rolled up jacket and put it on the rocks for me to rest the rifle.

Was he being serious? The kudu were closer to Angola than they were to me! Or so it seemed.

I casually enquired as to the range. "Oh, about 280m" came the reply.

My eyes widened and I thought he can't be freaking serious. 280m?
I wondered if I should mention I had never shot beyond 100m but decided against it.
Here I was, this is what I wanted to do so man up and do your bit.

The kudu bull stepped out of cover going left to right and Philip whispered to wait until he stopped moving.

He did and suddenly I found myself about to shoot at my first African animal which also happened to be a kudu.

For some reason I was completely steady. No buck fever, no wavering over the target. I moved the crosshairs up to just above the halfway line on the bull's body and squeezed the trigger.

The shot went off and in the ten minutes before the bullet hit I recovered the recoil and saw the kudu lurch forward, tail up and mane on end. He bolted forward about twenty or thirty metres and stood still, unsteady on his feet. I knew the shot had been good.

Philip said to shoot again and I duly obliged. This time the bull staggered forward, his back end went down and he rolled over onto his right side.

The next moments were a blur. I remember Philip shaking my hand, I took my jacket off because I realised I was actually bloody hot and Sonia and Ella emerged from the bushes asking if I had killed it. Bizarrely I was more concerned with picking up the empty cartridges and making sure I could return them to Philip.

Philip was on the radio to Marius, calling him and the vehicle in to recover the carcass and then we set off over the seemingly impossible distance I had covered with the shot. I zoomed in to take the photo below. The kudu is lying behind the small mushroom shaped bush in the centre of the photo.

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I will never forget the moment I looked up and saw my kudu lying there.

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As I walked closer it just got bigger and bigger. I had never shot anything as large as this before and although I had seen mounted kudu before I was genuinely stunned by the size of it. It had an injury to it's rear leg from a fence.

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Philip was pleased, I was pleased and very relieved. Nothing like shooting a long distance animal for your first animal on the first morning of your hunt to settle the nerves, give confidence in a strange environment but also show the PH that you can do the job when you have to step up to it.

The ritual of the Last Bite was observed and Philip shook my hand as he presented me with a sprig of acacia to wear in my cap while he recounted the story of our morning so far with the traditional German 'Waidmannsheil' 'Waidmannsdank' exchange. Great stuff.

We set the bull up for some photos while Marius made his way to us with the truck. As we moved him I was very pleased to see both my shots had hit about two inches apart in the lower chest behind the front leg. Perfect.
The first shot would have killed the bull but I can definitely appreciate the second shot advice from Philip to end it quickly for this magnificent old bull.View attachment 47068
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We had a drink when Marius arrived and I could suddenly take in the fact that, after looking at my watch, two hours into my first hunt on my first day of my first safari, I had taken a superb kudu with ivory tipped horns.

Now the practicalities had to take over as we needed to get this big beast into the truck. Winches are very useful.

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On the way back to the farm, we stopped so Philip could check a leopard bait and replenish the water that was also laid on for the elusive cat. Foot prints showed he had visited but not eaten.
We also saw springbok and steenbok on our journey.

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Back at the farm, the kudu was winched up and off the truck and the skinners got to work. I was amazed how quickly and with great dexterity they worked. I wanted it caped and the back skin to be saved too, it was my first African animal after all!
After I had taken my gear back to the cottage I went back to take a few photos.
Philip was measuring the kudu for his records and I was shocked when he announced with a smile that the bull had made a gold medal. It genuinely never crossed my mind before to consider what it might measure because I was so pleased to have just hunted it. The horns taped out at 51 and 52 inches and the overall score was 322 cm points.

View attachment 47072

Lunch was quickly upon us and afterwards we had a couple of hours spare time so Ella and Sonia amused themselves while I jotted down some notes about the morning so I could remember them when it cam to writing this thread. As I wrote, a troop of baboons moved through the riverbank across from our cottage.
The grey lourie birds were flying between the trees overhead.

After our afternoon coffee and cake we headed out again to look for a gemsbok. Saw a kori bustard as we bounced along in the back of the truck.
Plenty more warthogs, springbok and steenbok.

Marius stopped as we drove up a rise in the ground as we pushed on into the hills. He has seen gemsbok ahead.

Philip and I got off and followed them as the gemsbok crested the ridge. We crept up and as we did so, a magnificent kudu bull appeared in the bush to our right. As we watched him, the gemsbok were feeding close by and then more kudu materialised from the bushes and the two species mingled together in the afternoon sunshine.

No shootable animals were present amongst the gemsbok, all were young and therefore not for shooting.

We stayed and watched the animals going about their business. The large kudu bull had made his way down the slope in front of us and down the valley. He noticed us and from a distance of about 80m started barking. It was a great sight. Unfortunately my camera was with Sonia who was some 40m behind Philip and myself and she couldn't see him but for the twenty or so minutes he stood there barking at us, his image will forever me imprinted on my mind. He really was a superb animal, big bodied and rippling with muscle around his front end. A kudu in his prime and definitely not a shooter at Khomas Highland.

Another kudu started barking too. The big bull moved off and alarmed the others in front of us who made off up the mountainside directly in front of us. All seemed to be immature bulls and one in particular had a strangely bald neck but appeared to otherwise be in good health.

View attachment 47073

The gemsbok were still around and I counted five but possibly more were still hidden from me which was correct as there were twelve when they eventually spooked.

On the ridge we had just climbed the was a tree so when all the animals had gone, Marius brought up the truck and we had a welcome drink. Casually glancing up I was surprised by the carcass of a steenbok. Dried out now but the remains of a leopard kill.

View attachment 47074 View attachment 47076

Not a bad place for a drink!

More warthog, springbok and steenbok were about as we returned to the farm. A jackal presented me with a shot but I made the rookie error of aiming dead on when I should've aimed underneath it at 50m and missed over the top. Annoyed with myself.

Kudu loin for dinner and it is probably the best meat I have ever tasted. Sam cooked it to perfection.

Second day over and looking forward to the next one!

Adrian,

I admire your experience during this trip as I am about to embark on what I hope to be a similar and exciting journey for my first time hunting in Africa. I will continue to read your posts as time permits.

Thank you
 

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