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The story below was first published in Vadvilag Magazin in 2024. The following text has been translated to English by the author, László Boross.
On the first day of my first African hunting trip in Zambia, 30 August 2022, I took my first cape buffalo. However, reaching that moment was no easy feat.
After buying a Rigby Big Game in calibre .375 H&H Magnum in the hopes of hunting African dangerous game, I never expected it would take over six years before I aimed my rifle at the big game it was meant for…
On the first day of hunting, we left our camp at 5:30am. Sitting on the back of the pickup truck, the 10°C morning air felt rather cold, not knowing that by 11:00am we would be walking around in 30°C heat. We came across several buffalo tracks, but we had to wait for the first one to be approved by the tracker until 7:30am. After gearing up, we started following the track. Two trackers were walking in front, then myself, followed by the outfitter – also a professional hunter – and a wildlife ranger in the rear. We set out from the valley of the Luangwa River, where the soil was loose and sandy, but as we were hiking up the hill, the characteristic reddish-black volcanic bedrock started showing.
The vegetation was rather diverse. Our journey led us across an always changing environment: closed canopy forests, sparse woodlands, the bush, and grasslands taller than ourselves. Trekking across the latter, I kept thinking about Death in the Long Grass by Peter Hathaway Capstick, as our view was limited to no more than three metres ahead of us. Caution was warranted: later, meeting elephants was a daily occurrence, and fresh lion tracks were found multiple times. Not to mention, that in the mornings we were waking up to a cacophony of hyenas, leopards and lions… But let’s get back to tracking.
The moment I first laid my eyes upon a herd of cape buffalo is something I will never forget. The gathering of over a hundred animals was a spectacular sight, and contrary to what I was expecting, they were not clustered together but standing in a thin and long line with plenty of space between them. My PH searched the herd with his binoculars for a buffalo to shoot, and fortunately, there was one!
Starting from the valley, the hike took us uphill, then downhill, uphill, and down again like a rollercoaster. This went on for hours, and the temperature kept rising. Hydration was important: I made an isotonic drink in a water bottle before departure, drinking it from time to time to keep myself hydrated.
It was almost 10:00 a.m. by the time we caught up to the herd. They were 300 metres ahead of us in a closed canopy forest. Due to a recent wildfire burning most of the herbaceous layer, we lacked cover but made significantly less noise.
The buffalo were grazing in a single wide line, which presented a problem. We could have tried to get closer in a single line in order to cover each other, but the buffalo standing to the side would have seen us. As a result, only the three of us were left for the final stretch. The PH was leading our small group, carrying shooting sticks and binoculars; I was following him closely behind, and the outfitter was walking behind me with a rifle as a backup. The first 100 metres were relatively easy, as the trees still provided some cover, but the next 100 metres were covered on our hands and knees, and in the final 50 metres we were crawling on the ground.
At this point, every single movement had to be thought over. From behind the cover of two trees, I managed to take a final look at the chosen buffalo, and the previous decision proved to be correct: it was legal to harvest! Then, still covered by trees, I straightened up as slow as possible and placed my rifle on the shooting sticks. Looking through the scope, I searched for the buffalo to shoot, but it is no easy task when a hundred buffalo are grazing in front of you. I whispered a description of the target to the PH, to make sure we were talking about the same buffalo. After the identification was successful, I heard a low whisper from him: ‘shoot.’
Right away, I got the shoulder of the buffalo in my crosshairs and shot. The bull raised its left front leg – showing the impact – but I lost sight of it as the startled herd started to run away. Even now, I still do not know whether I should have been afraid of the bolting buffalo or not. Anyhow, the three of us ran after the herd. It did not take long to find the injured bull, as it was trailing behind the others. I shot once more from 60 metres, but the buffalo showed no impact, perhaps just by walking a bit slower. We ran after it until I was in a shooting position again and made a shot for the third time. This time, the bull stopped in its tracks and collapsed to the ground.
High on the adrenaline, I carefully approached the animal laying on its side. As I got closer, it kept raising its head at me. I looked at the PH and asked him whether to shoot once more. With a smile, he said: “Do as you think”. There is a saying about the cape buffalo – also known as the black death – “It is the dead buffalo that kills you”. With my adrenaline levels still high, I immediately fell on my knees, and with a heart shot I saved the animal from further suffering.
As blood was streaming out of its chest, the effect of adrenaline started to fade, replaced by a hard to describe satisfaction of harvest. There was a mixture of success, relief, and pride combined with a peculiar bittersweet sadness. This feeling is only known to people who have harvested a similar big game, who took the life of another living being…
Then, the moment was gone, and we started to congratulate each other. The PH and the outfitter admitted that in their eyes, the chance of the stalk being successful was 50 percent at most. Hearing the shots, the remaining members of our group also caught up to us, as until then, they were waiting in silence where we previously left them behind.
After congratulating me, we called the pickup truck on the radio, and it reached us in over an hour, giving me plenty of time to take photos of the buffalo and the environment. Later , these photos would help me remember the adventure and relive these moments over and over again…
After analyzing the stalk – now with a clear head – we determined that all four shots were to the heart and lungs area, and none of the projectiles passed through, even though the Hornady DGX ammunition used here is meant for African thick-skinned big game. The fact that four good shots made with a .375 H&H Magnum were needed to take it down proves how tough and tenacious the cape buffalo is.
The next morning, our first trip was to the village nearest to our camp. There, we handed over the meat of the buffalo to the village chief, who distributed it among the villagers.
Over a hundred kilograms of meat disappeared from the back of the pickup truck in less than three minutes! It was a great feeling to know that I supported the locals, not only in an indirect way through what I paid, but also directly, by feeding them with the meat of their land, just like in ancient times.
On the first day of my first African hunting trip in Zambia, 30 August 2022, I took my first cape buffalo. However, reaching that moment was no easy feat.
After buying a Rigby Big Game in calibre .375 H&H Magnum in the hopes of hunting African dangerous game, I never expected it would take over six years before I aimed my rifle at the big game it was meant for…
On the first day of hunting, we left our camp at 5:30am. Sitting on the back of the pickup truck, the 10°C morning air felt rather cold, not knowing that by 11:00am we would be walking around in 30°C heat. We came across several buffalo tracks, but we had to wait for the first one to be approved by the tracker until 7:30am. After gearing up, we started following the track. Two trackers were walking in front, then myself, followed by the outfitter – also a professional hunter – and a wildlife ranger in the rear. We set out from the valley of the Luangwa River, where the soil was loose and sandy, but as we were hiking up the hill, the characteristic reddish-black volcanic bedrock started showing.
The vegetation was rather diverse. Our journey led us across an always changing environment: closed canopy forests, sparse woodlands, the bush, and grasslands taller than ourselves. Trekking across the latter, I kept thinking about Death in the Long Grass by Peter Hathaway Capstick, as our view was limited to no more than three metres ahead of us. Caution was warranted: later, meeting elephants was a daily occurrence, and fresh lion tracks were found multiple times. Not to mention, that in the mornings we were waking up to a cacophony of hyenas, leopards and lions… But let’s get back to tracking.
The moment I first laid my eyes upon a herd of cape buffalo is something I will never forget. The gathering of over a hundred animals was a spectacular sight, and contrary to what I was expecting, they were not clustered together but standing in a thin and long line with plenty of space between them. My PH searched the herd with his binoculars for a buffalo to shoot, and fortunately, there was one!
Starting from the valley, the hike took us uphill, then downhill, uphill, and down again like a rollercoaster. This went on for hours, and the temperature kept rising. Hydration was important: I made an isotonic drink in a water bottle before departure, drinking it from time to time to keep myself hydrated.
It was almost 10:00 a.m. by the time we caught up to the herd. They were 300 metres ahead of us in a closed canopy forest. Due to a recent wildfire burning most of the herbaceous layer, we lacked cover but made significantly less noise.
The buffalo were grazing in a single wide line, which presented a problem. We could have tried to get closer in a single line in order to cover each other, but the buffalo standing to the side would have seen us. As a result, only the three of us were left for the final stretch. The PH was leading our small group, carrying shooting sticks and binoculars; I was following him closely behind, and the outfitter was walking behind me with a rifle as a backup. The first 100 metres were relatively easy, as the trees still provided some cover, but the next 100 metres were covered on our hands and knees, and in the final 50 metres we were crawling on the ground.
At this point, every single movement had to be thought over. From behind the cover of two trees, I managed to take a final look at the chosen buffalo, and the previous decision proved to be correct: it was legal to harvest! Then, still covered by trees, I straightened up as slow as possible and placed my rifle on the shooting sticks. Looking through the scope, I searched for the buffalo to shoot, but it is no easy task when a hundred buffalo are grazing in front of you. I whispered a description of the target to the PH, to make sure we were talking about the same buffalo. After the identification was successful, I heard a low whisper from him: ‘shoot.’
Right away, I got the shoulder of the buffalo in my crosshairs and shot. The bull raised its left front leg – showing the impact – but I lost sight of it as the startled herd started to run away. Even now, I still do not know whether I should have been afraid of the bolting buffalo or not. Anyhow, the three of us ran after the herd. It did not take long to find the injured bull, as it was trailing behind the others. I shot once more from 60 metres, but the buffalo showed no impact, perhaps just by walking a bit slower. We ran after it until I was in a shooting position again and made a shot for the third time. This time, the bull stopped in its tracks and collapsed to the ground.
High on the adrenaline, I carefully approached the animal laying on its side. As I got closer, it kept raising its head at me. I looked at the PH and asked him whether to shoot once more. With a smile, he said: “Do as you think”. There is a saying about the cape buffalo – also known as the black death – “It is the dead buffalo that kills you”. With my adrenaline levels still high, I immediately fell on my knees, and with a heart shot I saved the animal from further suffering.
As blood was streaming out of its chest, the effect of adrenaline started to fade, replaced by a hard to describe satisfaction of harvest. There was a mixture of success, relief, and pride combined with a peculiar bittersweet sadness. This feeling is only known to people who have harvested a similar big game, who took the life of another living being…
Then, the moment was gone, and we started to congratulate each other. The PH and the outfitter admitted that in their eyes, the chance of the stalk being successful was 50 percent at most. Hearing the shots, the remaining members of our group also caught up to us, as until then, they were waiting in silence where we previously left them behind.
After congratulating me, we called the pickup truck on the radio, and it reached us in over an hour, giving me plenty of time to take photos of the buffalo and the environment. Later , these photos would help me remember the adventure and relive these moments over and over again…
After analyzing the stalk – now with a clear head – we determined that all four shots were to the heart and lungs area, and none of the projectiles passed through, even though the Hornady DGX ammunition used here is meant for African thick-skinned big game. The fact that four good shots made with a .375 H&H Magnum were needed to take it down proves how tough and tenacious the cape buffalo is.
The next morning, our first trip was to the village nearest to our camp. There, we handed over the meat of the buffalo to the village chief, who distributed it among the villagers.
Over a hundred kilograms of meat disappeared from the back of the pickup truck in less than three minutes! It was a great feeling to know that I supported the locals, not only in an indirect way through what I paid, but also directly, by feeding them with the meat of their land, just like in ancient times.
