ZIMBABWE: Buffalo In The Savé With Mokore Safaris

Very good read so far! Looking forward to the rest of the story!
 
Nope, Nope , Nope. You don't get to start a report and then bail for a month to the bush again. Unacceptable ;)
 
Very nice start! thank you for sharing
 
Very nice start to the report. Keep it coming, sir.
 
Great story so far ! Looking forward to hearing the rest. :)

You are a gifted writer for sure!
 
This is top notch writing ✍️ - enjoyed reading it very much!!
 
I’m back from the bush, so I’ll pick this up again by starting from the beginning...

ARRIVAL
On arrival at Hammond, we found fieldstone cottages and a luxurious rustic lodge set among huge towering river bottom trees and flowering shrubs and manicured lawns. We settled in to a comfortable thatched roof cottage on the dry rivers bank. Our bags were carried for us, balanced on the heads of the kitchen ladies.
We were given a short driving tour and orientation by young apprentice PH Tristan. Took some test shots with our rented rifles, a Winchester .375 and Ruger .338. The unseasonable rain and cold (15C) was a surprise and apparently quite unusual.
The bush here is mopane lowveld. The drought tolerant mopane trees with their double lobed leaves are interspersed with thorn bushes, tall acacia trees, and small grassy / sandy openings. A few beautiful rain trees and lead woods adorn the river banks and rock figs grow on the gomas, granite outcroppings that pop up at random in the sandy valley. Once in a while an old, fat & stately baobab tree grows improbably on a hillside. The grass is tall and thick in places since the rainy season has only recently ended.
We saw very few critters on our first drive, mostly impala. Camp is great, the land beautiful but it seems that hunting will be a challenge! Tristan tells us not to worry, todays rain made the game animals stay bedded in deep cover. The cool damp weather will change and the animals will become active again.
In the afternoon we met our Professional Hunter Dalton McLintock, his tracker/ skinner Andrew, and driver Clopoas.
Dalton is 30 ish, but wise beyond his years. He is a native white Zimbabwean. He started out as a photo tourism guide, then became full PH after several years of intense training and apprenticeship as is required of all Zimbabwean PH’s. He was also camp manager for the Duckworths at Mokore Safaris. He speaks fluent English and Shona. He’s personable, capable, and physically fit in that casual way common to outdoorsy young men.
Andrew is a very skilled tracker. He learned by herding goats as a very young boy. When one goat strays from the flock a Shona boy is expected to puzzle out where it went, by distinguishing that particular goat’s tracks from all the others, determine where it was going, and how long ago, then catch up with it and return it to the flock. Tracking a buffalo or eland is literally child’s play for Andrew.
Clopoas is a “city boy”. Also Shona tribe. He knows how to drive Dalton’s Toyota hilux diesel Bakkie smoothly and with good humour on the very rough trails. He’s a little scared of the bush but loves his job. He often makes funny comments, some of which are translated for our benefit. Later on, after we had repeatedly tracked buffalo for several kilometres per session, we came to greatly appreciate Clopoas’ ability to figure out where we were and pick us up so we could avoid a long unproductive slog back to the bakkie.
We were “assigned” Amos by the conservancy. Amos is also Shona, a quiet and somewhat serious young man who is a local game Scout. He lives at Hammond and participates in poacher patrols, keeping track of game movement and numbers, maintaining trails and such. He knows the area and habits of the game very well. He followed our entourage with a backpack, helpfully offering water or carrying extras. He always knew where the nearest trail was during our cross country walks. Amos is also a kind of game warden to ensure we are hunting within the rules.
Kevin and I are eager to experience a traditional tracking hunt for buffalo and eland and put some of our Canadian bush skills to work in a very different environment.
We will form a good team.
 
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Arrival at camp...
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Our days hunting the Savé are now becoming a jumble of experiences and incidents that occurred in no particular order, most fading into a happy blur of cherished memories. A few details and observations stand out.

After the rain stopped and the sun warmed the veld the next morning, the animals that we didn’t see on our first rainy orientation drive began to show themselves. Right near camp, a resident herd of Impala enjoy sanctuary near the residential area. Some nice old rams live in that bunch, and they entertained and welcomed us on our many trips to and from camp.

When we climbed a particular high goma to glass, it was fascinating to see gaps and small meadows in the bush with warthogs, eland, and zebra in small groups, and some kudu here and there. The conservancy has a very good population of buffalo, and has reasonable populations of some species of plains game, but none of them were easy to spot during our drives. At the beginning of the dry season in May, the grass was still thick and tall, and most trees still had leaves. The constant presence of game that could so easily elude us was a bit humbling. It was a good motivator to know the game was there and we had to work a bit to make contact.

Giraffe were encountered at random times. They had an uncanny ability to appear between the tall trees at odd moments, materializing like ghosts as singles or small groups despite their huge size and seeming inability to be elusive. We got a practical demonstration why the old males are called “stink bulls”. We actually smelled a couple of old, dark and rank bulls from a hundred meters away while driving past in the bakkie.

Elephants were scattered everywhere, we had several random contacts with them, mostly bulls. We saw a lot of evidence of the damage that they can do with their feeding habits. Many broken acacia thorn trees, their seed pods so vital as a food source to plains game during the dry periods. Scars and tears in the ancient baobabs where elephant poked them to get at their moist, pithy “wood”. The conservancy is actually over stocked with elephant, the limited hunting quotas are a source of frustration for the outfitters and the neighbouring farmers. They would like to have fewer problem animals to deal with, less habitat damage and more opportunities for revenue. But that’s a story common to a wide swath of the region. It felt good to be carrying a .375 with solids held in reserve in the magazine, “just in case”. The cows have a fierce reputation, and we gave them plenty of space.

When I booked the hunt I was hoping to encounter some species that are rare and special to the area. We were not disappointed.

One morning, we were tracking buffalo along the sandy bottom of one of the dry rivers. It was cold and the morning mist was quite thick, but the sun put a beautiful sparkling gleam on the leaves and was quickly burning the chill away. We heard a bark, and looked up just in time to see a whole pack of African wild dogs running up the river bank and out of sight. The Savé is one of the few places in Africa that has a healthy population of wild dogs. It was a great privilege to see them. It reminded me of the occasional encounters I’ve had with wolves. They are an “indicator species” that can only thrive in wilderness. I greatly enjoy the type of country where wolves and wild dogs can be found.

One afternoon, we drove to a part of the ranch where the tall trees thinned out, and the land was covered by very dense, low thorn bush 2 or 3 meters high, with lots of openings between covered by short thick grass. I said “looks like good rhino habitat” and had no more got those words out of my mouth when Andrew says “there goes a rhino”. I never did see one, but tracks and droppings were here and there during our hunt. Both Black and White rhinos are doing well here despite the odds. At few times, days apart we also met the special game guards who are employed by the conservancy to protect the rhinos from poachers. They are armed, dedicated and very serious. They will defend “their” rhinos with deadly force if necessary.

The game scouts hired by each property in the Savé are usually not armed. They patrol constantly on foot and by bicycle, living out in the bush for days at a time while observing the game animals, checking for and confiscating snares, and generally making their presence known to the locals. They would sometimes show up like ghosts after we shot something, greeting us and offering congratulations and a hand with the carcass. Poachers would not get such a warm welcome. Much of the success of the Savé conservation program is due to their efforts.
 
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Game scout Amos with a snare we found the first day, and special Rhino anti Poaching unit members

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Encounters with elephants...

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ThanK you for sharing. I stayed in the same camp a few years ago and hunted with Dalton last year, he is good.
 
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My main quarry on this hunt were eland and buffalo. I’d hunted both before, an eland bull on a Eastern Cape ranch in South Africa and a buffalo bull in the Caprivi ( Zambezi region) of Namibia.

I have become very fond of hunting buffalo, and since my first eland hunt was a bit of a “goat rodeo” due to my inexperience and some bad shooting at the time, I was determined to do things right if I ever got to hunt another.

So when the opportunity to hunt both species came up, I jumped at the chance.

I’m not much of a trophy hunter. I hunt for the experience and the meat. After a lifetime of success pursuing a variety of game I don’t need any more horns on my wall. But I thoroughly enjoy the selective pursuit of particular animals. We were offered two buffalo bulls this hunt, one “trophy” and one “management” bull. The eland on quota was a cow only.

No matter to me, all eland taste wonderful and I would be content with stalking a herd, shooting a dry cow, and having one or two delicious meals while the rest went on to feed someone else.

A management bull buffalo was described as one at least 10 years old, post breeding but not what someone else would want to put on their wall. If I remember correctly they wanted us to shoot a bull with horns less than 38” wide or damaged or oddly shaped. No matter. Kevin and I hunted the herds by taking turns each day as shooter and photographer. We’d take any old post breeding bull as first choice, and the other hunter would go on to hunt the remaining bull on quota.

Kevin was the first to be successful. His bull was encountered the morning of first full day that he hunted buffalo. It was big, and old, and beautiful. Well over the "magic number". A trophy in anyone’s opinion. It was not a hunt that went exactly according to plan, but I’ll let him tell his own story. Let’s just say a good shot followed by bullet failure on impact created more worries and excitement than we expected. His ultimate success meant I was searching for a management bull, that could not exceed a certain size. It was an interesting challenge.

more to come, later...
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you really do want your first shot to be perfect while hunting in bush this thick!
 
After Kevin’s buffalo was hanging in the cooler, we still had the afternoon available to hunt. We headed north to some “new” areas. After we spooked the rhino previously mentioned, we continued through a patch of low thorn bushes and meadows. A nice herd of impala appeared. A mature ram was in the bunch. A quick stalk, a short wait on the sticks until the ram turned “just right’ followed with a shot to the shoulder. He disappeared from view, Dalton asked me “ how’d you feel?” I said the shot felt good. After walking the 100 M or so to where he was standing, we found him just a little further on. It was a great animal to start with. They are so beautiful. He was a nicer ram than the one I’d taken in South Africa a few years before.
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Little creek beds crossed the area at intervals. They were full of sand, with no water. A good place to find the tracks of whatever was passing through the area. It was always interesting. Hyena and leopard seemed inclined to follow the creeks. Buffalo and kudu and eland crossed them too, leaving sign even I could read.

I was also interested in Klipspringer, those cute and tiny goat-like antelope with their unique hollow hair and sure feet. They seem to be experts at jumping around in the rocks to avoid predators. They are good at avoiding hunters too. We did a quick stalk on a pair when we spotted them perched high on a goma. We tried to climb after them, and I soon realized that this flatlander is more comfortable on the ground rather than hanging on the sloping side of a huge granite boulder, relying on the flimsy tip of a thorn shrub to keep from falling a long ways down. The klippies won that round. Actually, the klippies won all the rounds. I eventually shot at two, and missed both shots completely. One close, one far, but no excuses. I just blew it.
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A Big day!

We were tracking a herd of 50 or more buffalo again at dawn, close to where they had managed to avoid us the day before by “crossing the border” into the next property, where of course we did not have the right to hunt. So this was round two with this bunch.
We were quickly and quietly following the fresh tracks, when I glanced ahead. Between the thorn bushes I saw some tan bodies. A lot of tan bodies. Big ones. Dalton an Andrew noticed as soon as I did. Eland!

Dalton grinned, motioned me forward, and the buffalo hunt quickly turned into an Eland hunt. As we approached the herd, we paused to watch and study the dozen or so animals popping in and out of view. A mature cow with no calf was being courted by a nice bull. She looked like the one to take. On the sticks at 150 M, the crosshairs were steady. There was a good opening in the trees, and only a very thin screen of brush between us, right near her. She turned broadside. The shot felt good, and I told Dalton so. But when we walked up, there was no eland. The herd was milling around in confusion farther along, not quite ready to leave. We soon realized the bull was still attempting to keep the cow’s company. She was slipping in and out of view between the thornbush clearings, hobbling slowly, with the bull at her side.

We picked up the tracks and found a little blood. I had a sickly knot in my stomach. We rounded a corner in the bush, and the herd appeared again just ahead. They broke out in that fast trot that they have, the gait that can travel very long, lonely distances so quickly.

The cow was bringing up the rear. Dalton identified her as the wounded one, but said “don’t shoot” - I didn’t listen. Many years of hunting driven game at home gave me the confidence to put a couple of fast offhand shots into the cow angling from behind. We found her a few meters further along. What a relief!. She was big and beautiful and I was very thankful to have her.

I found out later that the first shot had been affected by that tiny bit of brush. The .375 bullet, a 300 grain Swift A-Frame, had entered exactly where I aimed on the shoulder, but sideways. It failed to penetrate enough. Follow up shots were a Barnes TSX and a Solid, both of which penetrated through the rumen and on into the lungs and heart. I re-learned a lesson that I already knew from experience. Don’t shoot though brush!
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That eland hunt was not quite the proper job I had envisioned, but I was very happy with her. We feasted on her filets for several meals. The butcher at camp said there are not enough eland in all of Africa to feed all the people who would like to eat them. They are so delicious. Eland filet for breakfast anyone?

After our trip to the butcher and a meal and a nap, we were hunting buffalo again…
 
Really enjoying this report! Keep it coming!
 

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HOW MUCH ARE THEY?? PLAIN? CAMO? THX, SETH
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