13.000 STEPS
If was day three of the hunt. Today I was more relaxed. My buffalo was in the salt. Today I am the cameraman, and Gregor is the hunter. Nowhere is it written I have to write in chronological order, so I will leave my buffalo story for later to follow in a flashback. We were a group of 7. Two of our trackers, our PH, two local game rangers and two hunters.
We started early and came to the banks of the Chobe River. Chobe is Botswana – Namibia border. In the dry season, the river is not too deep locally, but is still full of hyppos, and an occasional croc. The scenery across the river in Chobe park was all looking dry, no grass, rare trees and bush, and no leaves. On the Namibian side, all is green, and grass is plentiful. Two different worlds are divided by a river. It looks to me like the border of green pastures is the Chobe River. The game is crossing the river to access the food here. Why is it like that? I am not sure. It could be that on our side, there is some agriculture and crops, and the grass is frequently burned to allow fresh grass to grow. Maybe.
From afar, we could observe a group of about a dozen buffalo on Botswana side. The same ones we saw the day before. But they are reluctant to cross the river. One of them was extremely large in size and body mass. We approached the river, but could not find a single buffalo track. We passed few hyppos, which looked like amphibious vehicles in the water, to me. In the surrounding fields, there were plenty of zebra, roan, waterbuck.
We passed at distance two elephants in tall reeds. The reeds were so tall, that from a distance, I could observe only the elephant's back. But buffalo was nowhere to be found. By the time the sun was in its zenith, we turned back and headed for lunch break at the camp, or at least we thought so.
We passed the entire hunting area scouting and glassing without result, and were heading back to camp when one of our rangers got a call! Buffaloes were seen entering the woods just ahead of us!
We stopped near the forest, made a quick plan, and went into the bush leaving the car behind
The hunt was on!
Trackers and rangers spread around looking for tracks, leading our way, and we followed. My job was filming, but still with my rifle loaded and with a round chambered just in case. I hated mobile phone filming duty, as it kept my hands busy. But my plan was in case things get critical, the mobile phone (btw, not mine, in a comforting thought) to through away in the bush, while I bring the rifle up against the charging beast in fury!
It was my 4th safari, but also this was my third trip with my own tripod hunting stick, Jim Shokey Primos. The reason I drag my stick half the world away is that it has a telescopic function, and allows me to shoot from a kneeling or sitting position. Telecospic function on the average camp stick is either non-existent, or lost with fine red dust in moving parts and years of hard use. A detail I noticed on my first safari. Gregor is usually laughing at my ideas about the stick, like there is tall grass, nobody shoots sitting, everybody standing etc, but I stoically keep to my philosophy, till proven otherwise. Besides, there is a fact that I shot my Hartmann zebra, and black wildebeest from a sitting position in my previous safaris.
So, my rifle was slung on my right shoulder, my stick folded on my back hanging on the backpack, annoying mobile phone-turned camera in one hand, and like that I followed. I also hated being on the end of the column in a hunting party, but hey, often this is the hard life of a photographer. So, I pressed on, following the boys, having no idea what rangers and trackers were seeing ahead. I tried to be as quiet as possible
In time the legs became heavy, and the shirt sweat-soaked. Few times we lost track, but soon we found them again, and kept on.
Gregor carried a Ruger no 1 in 375 H&H. Scope Swaro 1.7-10x42 with rail, German claw mounts. The stock was made by the best stock-making gunsmith in the country, and the mounts were installed by the other one, known to be the best for steel work in the country. High-grade wood for stock was bought on some online auction, and the black forend tip was made of buffalo horn. (where he got the horn, I have no idea). I think he spent years preparing this rifle for this hunt, for his 50th birthday.
PH carried Merkel double in 416 Rigby.
We came across the trail more and more often, and there was more and more dung as we pressed on. The dung was fresher and fresher. The trackers would take it in their hands, or poke with a stick crush it, to assess the freshness of the “trails” and estimate how many buffalo are ahead of us. Hunting on the trail is a mixture of fast walking, occasional stops and wind assessments, and a slow run. When the trail is lost, the scouts and trackers quickly find it.
At one point, the trackers and scouts spread out from the column, came back, moved into a line, and began to walk more cautiously. Seeing the trackers that moment, I was sure that the buffalo was close by and dead, only the buffalo did not know it yet.
It was just a question of how much longer we would walk. My optimism suddenly grew, and I forgot about tired legs and sweat-soaked shirt!
It did not last long now. The team stopped. I watched everything from the back of the column. But the situation was clear to me. As we stopped in the bushes, I managed to see some movement of the dark masses, or occasional flick of the tail. The facial expressions of the trackers, Gregor and Christian, was clear of what they plan, for me from a bit of an angle from the back. With a little adjustment, they took up positions. If I could saw a movement in the bush, the buffalo could see my movement as well.
So, I was still and tried to control my movements to a minimum
I kneeled down, not daring to breathe. I kept filming. Duty first. I would prefer to have my rifle in hand, ready for backup, but my job was to film, and I struggled hard with the discipline.
Gregor moved again and repositioned himself a little more,
I felt like I could cut the silence and tension with a knife.
This went on for 15 or 20 minutes. At last, Gregor raised his rifle, but there was no shooting.
He was probably looking for a hole in the bushes and clear view to a vital zone.
I was tense. I screamed to myself, "Let's get it over with!"
Suddenly, the sound of hooves is heard, which disappeared into the distance. And with silence a cloud of dust slowly rose above the bushes.
I got up. What happened?
They sensed us. They moved in two groups. Each group to its side.
A bust!
After a quick discussion in whispering tones, we followed the right-headed group of buffalo.
Sneaking along the trail turned into a light jog. The trackers knew where they were going. I think they could see them through the bushes in fast pace on a glimpse. But it's all very hard to tell from the end of the column and my perspective.
At one point, on the clearing ahead of us, the buffalo ran out and cut right back into the bushes. We were running after them, very close behind. Then followed several of them crossing. I saw one very big buffalo whole with its head held high.
We followed them at a pace from a brisk walk to a light jog. My heart rate jumped, panting, running, and I could see that I was falling behind. Sweat soaked my shirt in streams.
Finally, we switched from running to walking and stopped, between the bushes in a smaller clearing. We found them. The buffalo stopped.
13,000 steps!
In total, we took 13,000 steps through the forest, about 9 kilometers.
The trackers took positions and kneeled, pointing with their fingers. The hunters kneeled. And I sat. I know what they're pointing at, although I coulnt't see the buffalo. Based on the team positioning, bush surroundings, and visible angles from my standpoint, the buffalo was at about 50 meters to my right. I had a feeling, he just needed to make one step sideways to get into my view. But he was there! That was the most important!
Everyone sat down, and I still I couln't see him.
Gregor raised his rifle.
But he gave up. Rifle down.
Everyone shifted around a bit, adjusted, and sat down again.
The whole team now has sat down, or knelt down, and I sat down too, so I can film them from a horizontal perspective.
Gregor aimed with his rifle, and I expected a shot.
Click!
He locked the rifle, safety on, moved the arse again.
I still knew exactly where the buffalo was, it was just I coldn't see him in the bush, but according to our the agreement, the priority is hunting, not filming, and that's why I don't dare to make a fuss, or move to the left, so as not to scare the buffalo, just to make better footage. So, I stayed put and didn’t move at all, just with mobile in my hand.
Aha! Now they needed stick. I knew it! I quietly passed the stick to Christian, and Christian passed to Gregor. My stick!
They had time to set up the stick.
I know why I'm dragging it around the world on the plane. And now Gregor knows.
The legs on the stick are folded in, and the stick is set up for shooting from a Gregors low sitting position.
They repositioned again a bit. PH and him.. Again. They moved the rifle, they moved the stick. It's all half a meter, left or right, here or there.
I assume it's thick bushes. The bushes are blocking a clear shot. They're looking for a hole in the bush, a clear line of sight.
My nerves are at their wits' end, I can only imagine what Gregor is feeling. Every second feels like an eternity.
I'm waiting for Bang!
Click!
Safety again. The gun is unlocked. Obviously, they are not aware of what they are doing to my nerves with that safety.
They adjust position again, and Gregor moves further to the left. The gun was fixed on my stick
The trackers are all sitting down, as if cast from bronze and don’t move.
Now Christian is preparing the 416.
Bang!
My friend fired!
Now the show starts. I said to myself, now we have the situation in the bush!
Everyone gets up. I get up, trying to keep the frame in the video on that mobile phone.
Gregor reloads the rifle in one second.
I don't think I can reload bolt action that fast. I watched the video later, and reloading took one second! I thought to myself if the buffalo is wounded now in the bushes, we're screwed.
We waited a bit to gather ourselves together.
Trackers and scouts are observing, catching on their radar where these buffalo ran and the direction in which the tracks disappeared.
We moved ahead without running. Slowly, we made our way through the bush and came out into the clearing. I saw the clearing 20 meters before the edge of the bush, a greenish strip being visible through the branches.
And then, relief!
An eye candy, 50 meters from the edge of the bush, the buffalo was lying in the field. Not moving.
Gregor takes a coup de grâce, an insurance shot. In the spine.
Now we switched to congratulations, hugging and patting mode. Everyone was happy! We all hug. The buffalo is down!
Suddenly, at one point, Gregor looked at me.
Seriously.
I knew what that meant. A serious, deadly look full of anticipation and hope cut sharply through the warm Namibian air! What the silence and look meant was - Did I record everything? Did I fail?
This is now a question of life and death!
For a moment, the idea crossed my mind to say to him, "BATTERY, AZIZ!"
"I forgot to press REC. Let's do it again!"
“Sorry, buddy, we will do better next time! Haha!
But the seriousness of his look x-raying me deep in the eyes up to my frontal cortex, and a loaded rifle in his hand, dissuaded me from making a joke. The moment was not for that!
I gave a thumbs up and said in a comforting voice, Everything is recorded. Don't worry!!!
Upon arrival at skinners camp, the autopsy showed a shot straight to the heart!
Buffalo ran from the place of the shot, maybe 150 meters up to 200 where he fell with one bullet in the heart.
Done perfectly!
From my side, I proudly returned the phone back to the owner, being happy I am honorably relieved from filming duty! Job done!
Another thing that happened with that buffalo shot, is that we have just bought the most valuable African commodity. The time! It was day 3 of the hunt, and plenty of time remaining yet to spend! Africa now seemed like an open oyster, and I was looking forward with great expectations to what she would offer next. Victoria Falls is now a reality!
For dinner, we had buffalo steaks (from my buffalo), with a plan to hit the road the next morning for the Botswana border and Victoria Falls.
