ZIMBABWE: Buffalo In The Save With Mokore Safaris Part Two

Powdermaker

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My brother (and hunting partner) has already written quite an informative and entertaining report of our time in the Save´ Valley. I suggest you look up Longwalker and read his account first:

ZIMBABWE: Buffalo In The Save´ with Mokore Safaris. August 3rd, 2022.

Here is a brief follow up report of my hunt with Mokore Safaris…..

“Lady Luck is a fickle girl who doesn’t like to linger in any one place; she strokes your hair back from your brow, kisses you quickly and flits away. Lady Misfortune, by contrast, presses you tightly to her loving heart; she says she’s not in a hurry, sits down beside your bed and knits.”
Author: Heinrich Heine

Day 3 - The Buffalo

Climbing aboard the Toyota, we began our morning hunt, as the sky was just starting to brighten on the eastern horizon. The air was misty and cool, with no wind. Slowly making our way down a narrow bush trail, we were accompanied by the quiet murmurs of the guys speaking Shona among themselves and the distinctive sound of the chugging diesel engine. The mopane forest was fairly open in places but intersperse with dry creek beds and very thick vegetation. Soon we started to see game, mostly impala and then a herd of giraffe which included a large “stink” bull. We could easily smell him from 100 meters away.

The sun was nearly peaking over the horizon now and we came through a narrow opening into a grassy spot that was filled with black shapes- buffalo! A large herd of over 100 animals. They split to the right and left. Cleopas stopped the truck while Dalton and Andrew made a plan. We waited a bit for them to settle and then headed to the left. The herd did not go far, and we soon caught up with them. (No visuals yet, but we could hear them.) The sun at our back would make it difficult for the buffalo to see us, as we slowly worked our way forward. Perfect.

Standing on the edge of a dry creek bed, buffalo broke cover to our right. Dugga boys! Two, then three, then five…after that I lost count as the lead bull moved steadily towards us. It was obvious he was a very old bull, worn horn tips and a roman nose. He stopped broadside at 60 meters. Miraculously no brush obscured the view, but tall grass covered the bottom half of his chest. Placing the cross hairs just above the grass, I touched off. He staggered and then whirled about heading back where they came from. I went to chamber another round only to have the rifle jam! With some difficulty, I was able to eject the faulty round and get a solid chambered. The group stopped about 150 meters away, unsure of where danger lurked. We crept a bit closer…. the buffalo remained perfectly still. Dalton strained his eyes trying to pick out the wounded bull in the thick cover…

“shoot the one on the right. He is lower than the rest and facing right. That is our bull.”

Boom!

Now the group is moving! Our bull moved left across the creek bed while his buddies all abandoned him and went straight away from us. My second shot appeared to have no effect on him.

Dalton, “We will pick up the track.”


This was my third trip to Africa and my brother Guy’s, fourth. So, we are still newbies compared to some of you more experienced travelers. Our most recent trips, had my brother hunt Buffalo in the Caprivi and myself hunting leopard in North West Namibia. Both of us were successful. We now wanted to hunt buffalo in a new (to us) area of Africa. Our research led us to the 2019, Calgary Hunting Expo where we met Gary Duckworth. The Duckworth family has been outfitting in Zimbabwe for over 30 years and they have a stellar reputation in the hunting industry. We decided to book a hunt and were about to pay a deposit. Then Covid hit. Two years later, my brother, received an email from Gary….

“Would you still be interested in a buffalo hunt?”

The answer an unequivocal “Yes!”

The offer was for one trophy and one management bull in the Save´ Valley. Available plains game would we dependent on quota.

Hunting buffalo in the thick stuff in late May. That sounds like fun! What the heck had we gotten ourselves into? One month later we would find out.

It was spring in the northern plains, with the creeks running high and lake ice soon to break up. Our departure date of May 18th had arrived. The trip from Saskatoon to Harare was relatively uneventful. Our driver, Lovemore, was waiting for us at the airport and he soon whisked us away to the Duckworth’s guest house. Jetlag aside, it was great to be back in Africa!

Most worthwhile pursuits costs time, money and personal effort. Our journey to the Save´ Valley required all three. Was it going to be worth it? After three days of travel and many hours of planning; we were about to find out.


There were five of us in the hunting party… My brother and I would alternate being the hunter or photographer. Our PH was Dalton Mclintock. He employed, Andrew as his tracker, Cleopas was our driver. A quiet young fellow by the name of Amos, made up the fifth member of our group. He was a local game scout.

The team had done a great job of getting us into buffalo the first two days. The thick vegetation was making it a challenge to actually see the buffalo.

Then there was our encounter with lions. While hunting in Saskatchewan, I have had close encounters with both wolves and mountain lion. I have never felt concerned that my hide might get perforated. Hunting in the presence of lions, adds an interesting dynamic to the hunt. Apparently, they don’t like the smell of Canadians. It was at dusk on our second day and we were quietly sneaking up on a large buffalo herd. The lioness had been lying flat on the ground, 20 meters from us when she decided that we were close enough and stood up. She ghosted off in front of us and was swallowed up by the grass…..

Dalton, “Everyone remain perfectly still.”

Andrew, “More lions behind us.”

We couldn’t see them but they were close enough that we could hear their footfalls. Then the buffalo herd we had been following blew up in a cacophony of breaking brush, grunts and bellows. Then it was very quiet indeed. Dalton decided to call it a night and we made the long walk back to the two-track, where Cleopas would pick us up with the bakkie. It was an awesome day.

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The loooooong flight to Africa.

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We caught a ride with Lovemore, Mokore's driver, as he did a weekly supply run to the camp. It was about 6 hours driving time.
It was an interesting drive.

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Dalton and I in his bakkie. It is an impressive vehicle. I never knew a Toyota could haul a buffalo and 10 men!

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Trying to clear the jammed rifle!

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How do you spot a wounded buffalo in this thick crap?

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A bit of blood was all we saw. Not encouraging.
 
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Good start
 
Keep it coming...
 
Interesting adventure. If there was a gorpro camera, it would be very nice film
 
Nothing like a hungry cat in close proximity.
Keep it rolling....
 
Great read so far!
 
Great report so far. Looking forward to more...
 
Back to the buffalo hunt….

We went to the spot where the bull was last seen. There was very little blood. To make matters worse, the adrenalin rush was wearing off and I had developed a bad case of the shakes.

We crossed the creek. There, ahead of us was a thicket of small saplings with an imposing grey shape in the middle.

Dalton, whispering frantically “Shoot quickly.”

Me, “Which way is he facing?”

I had the scope on one power and was unable to make out any detail. He turned to run and everything came into focus. Too late. The crosshairs were just right of his body as I touched off. A clean miss. Lady Misfortune was knitting me a fricking sweater!

At this point Dalton looked a bit grim but he did say that my first shot “hurt him proper”.

Nothing to do but take up the track. Andrew earned his pay this day.

The track took us about 400 meters and across a larger dry river bed. He was now off of the property. Time to regroup. We rendezvoused with the Cleopas and the bakkie and Dalton got on the radio to secure permission to pursue the wounded bull.

It was about one hour after our first encounter when we took up the track once again. Dalton did not want to follow the track up the steep riverbank and stumble upon the bull at point blank range. Instead, we crossed the river and did a button hook. Andrew did not see the bulls track, so we descended toward the river bed about where the bull would have crossed. Moving very slowly forward, Andrew gestured and then quickly crouched down so as not to be in the line of fire. There, 30 meters down the river bank, was the buffalo staring malevolently back at us. A look that only buffalo can convey.

Dalton, “Back up, he is too close!”

My thought, “Why aren’t we shooting!?”

None the less, we quickly backed out. (Actually, I turned and walked quickly back. Which in hind-site was not the smartest move!) Regrouping, after we crossed a small clearing, brush cracked and heavy footfalls came out of the ravine. We faced the ravine and I fully expected a charge, but soon all was quiet again. The bull had vacated the riverbank and headed over the top.

Now Zimbabwean professional hunters get years of training before they are issued a license. I wouldn’t contradict my PH. Still, I was puzzled by our actions and had to ask….

Dalton, “There are lots of bulls in this area, that might not be the wounded one and then we would have two to contend with.” (Not to mention a large fine for shooting an additional animal outside the designated area.)

O.K. I could accept that explanation. Still, I was disappointed at the missed chance.

We checked the spot and found a bed with a small amount of blood.

Andrew once again took the lead.

I should add that once the bull left the riverbank, we heard some coughs and heavy gasping of breath from the bull.

Up top, the country opened up to mopane forest and we could now see much better. There was no longer a blood trail and Andrew went extremely slowly, covering the ground with careful assessment. Then Dalton raises his rifle to our left and quickly fires a round.

Dalton, “There is your buffalo. I think he was dead already but give him another just to be sure”

I was happy to oblige.

Lady Misfortune had left in a huff and Lady Luck had returned!

The bull had smooth bosses with worn horn tips, torn ears, a battle scarred face and massive neck. He was covered in mud and shit. He had a swarm of flies about him and unhealthy number of ticks. He stunk like barnyard.

Yes, he was a magnificent old Bull!

Hunting in Africa, more so than other places I have hunted, is a team effort. Everyone was happy and relieved to have this bull on the ground. That fact that things could have gone much differently were now a pleasant afterthought. Time to celebrate!

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The final shot into what we were quite sure, was an already expired buffalo.

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Winding down after an intense encounter.

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The happy and relieved hunter

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The old warrior had seen many battles.

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Andrew and Dalton displaying the horns. Dalton would keep mine as a memory of the hunt and a great example of a nice mature bull. I was honored to give it to him.
 
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Beautiful set of horns. Great example of an old bull indeed!
 
Proper old bull. Congratz!
 
After seeing so many different herds of homogeneous critters in Africa, I concluded it's so much easier to identify a specific Mule Deer buck in a herd when you follow up. The distinct antler configurations make it so much easier.
"Which big black shape in the herd is mine?" So easy to screw up.
Congratulations on getting the job done. The heavy breathing and shakes sure let you know you were hunting a Buffalo in heavy cover. (y)
 
Congrats, nice bull !
 
Congratulations on a great hunt and nice old Buffalo bull
 
After seeing so many different herds of homogeneous critters in Africa, I concluded it's so much easier to identify a specific Mule Deer buck in a herd when you follow up. The distinct antler configurations make it so much easier.
"Which big black shape in the herd is mine?" So easy to screw up.
Congratulations on getting the job done. The heavy breathing and shakes sure let you know you were hunting a Buffalo in heavy cover. (y)


Brickburn, you are right. Fortunately, I was relying on Dalton to make that call. It turns out that my second shot hit the bull low in the neck. Missing the vertebra by about 4 inches. The solid likely did some damage but it was my first shot that counted and ultimately killed him.
Thank you!
 
I am now relegated to photographer until my brother got his bull. This would happen two days later. Fast forward and it is day five and we now have two buffalo “in the salt” and five more days to hunt. While We really enjoyed buffalo hunting, it felt like we had entered into a more relaxed phase of the safari. Dalton had a discussion with Graham, the Hammond property manager. We were allowed five impala each and I was given the OK to hunt a Zebra. We inquired as to what animals are in surplus. He wanted us to hunt a bull giraffe and a lioness. There was no time to properly bait a lioness, so giraffe it is!

Graham, did not want me to hunt giraffe on the weekend, as he was short of staff. This was on a Saturday afternoon, so I had a day and a half to familiarize myself with giraffe anatomy. They have a strange anatomy that goes beyond their elongated neck, so I would visualize shot placement on every giraffe we saw. The vitals are far forward and a frontal shot is somewhat protected by their massive leg bones. A broadside shot would be the only option. I would be shooting Dalton’s Ruger model 77 in 338 Win mag., loaded with the excellent Barnes 225 grain TSX bullets. Perhaps a bit underpowered for an animal the size of giraffe? I have a lot of confidence in Barnes bullets, having taken many moose and elk with them. However, I have always found moose to be relatively easy to knock over. Giraffe have a reputation as a very tough animal. Naturally, I didn’t want to make a mess of it.

We spent the weekend hunting Klipspringer (unsuccessfully) and Dalton had decided that he wanted a zebra rug. It was Sunday afternoon when we spied a small herd of Zebra.

Dalton; “They want to cross the trail. Let’s sneak back there. The stallion is the lead animal”

How he was able to determine this on one glance was, and still is, a mystery to me. He had them figured out though. It transpired exactly as he anticipated and I was able to make a good shot on the stallion. Dalton got his rug.

Monday morning rolled around and we could now start our giraffe quest. Ideally, we wanted to locate a bull that was mature but not a old “stink” bull as the meat is inedible. Lady luck was again on our side. It was around 11 in the morning when we spotted a small herd with one that was obviously much larger. We attempted a stalk only to have the herd gallop off in that graceful yet awkward looking manner unique to giraffe. Not deterred, Andrew advised us to keep going. Yep. You guessed it we were busted a second time as well. Third time is a charm though and we were able to approach to within 100 meters using the cover of some thick ground shrubs.

Dalton wanted to ensure the bull was broadside and clear of the others before I could shoot. We were definitely on the same page in this but I found he gets somewhat excited as well.

The conversation went like this…..

Me on the sticks and ready.

Dalton whispering; “ Don’t shoot…don’t shot….don’t shoot….don’t shoot….don’t fricken shoot…

(Louder whisper) OK! SHOOT!, SHOOT!

BOOM!

I send a questioning stare to Dalton. He is all smiles and assures me it was a good shot. The bull only went 60 meters. I am greatly relieved.

What do you do when you have a 4000-pound animal on the ground? The correct answer is “nothing”. Dalton got on the radio to the main camp to notify the recovery team. Coincidently, three game scouts were in the area and heard my shot. They show up to investigate. A short nap and soon the recovery team has arrived. The number of helpers has risen to 16 men!

The foreman; (who’s name escapes me) greets me and shakes my hand “Maita Bassa!

And then in English “Thank You for the gift of giraffe meat.”

I felt like the circle of life had been completed. If we can preserve these wild places and give value to the wildlife. Then local people will want save these areas as well. Giraffe will continue to flourish. Win – win.

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Here is the team. Andrew was so impressed with the 338 that he wanted it in the picture.

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I personally believe it is important to give thanks for the animals life. Especially an iconic animal like the giraffe.

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The recovery team.

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One giraffe will feed a lot of people!
 
Waidmannsheil @Powdermaker ! Excellent report and some great trophies taken! Well done! I hope there is still more to come:)
 

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