South African Adventure Part III
The morning of the fourth day started off as usual-cold and clear. The first animals spotted were a family of Warthogs. We laughed and enjoyed the view as mother and little ones ran single-file, each with their tail in the air waving like a flag.
We hadn’t traveled much further when we came across a herd of about 200 Blesbuck. Willem was quick to start glassing and analyzing the animals for a trophy head. All of a sudden, something spooked the herd and it disappeared in a giant ball of dust.
Regrouping, we had just begun to move when suddenly another group of about sixty Blesbuck appeared. Willem looked the herd over with his binoculars, and told me the third one from the right was a good trophy - “Take him!” He said the range was 210 meters.
I put the appropriate crosshair on the Blesbuck shoulder, dropping the Blesbuck in his tracks. The Blesbuck photo will always be special to me because Willem wanted to take the photo wearing my black Stetson cowboy hat!
Late on the afternoon of the fourth day, we set out after a Red Hardebeest. Traveling through the hunting area, we had seen a large bull in heavy cover close to the road. As we slowly turned the corner and came down the road, off to the right stood the big Hardebeest. He was in such heavy brush, I know he thought he was invisible.
Turning the power on the scope down to three, I threw the rifle to my shoulder. All I could see was brush. I looked for an opening in the brush and finding one - only to realize I was looking at the wrong end of the Hardebeest. I contorted my body in a way that would make an Olympic gymnast proud and was able to get the crosshairs, the hold in the brush, and the front shoulder of the Hardebeest all to align. A swift, calm squeeze of the trigger and the solid whack let me know the 160 grain Hornady had found its mark. The bull leaped and ran off into grass that was over waist deep.
Again, we called on the wonderful skills of the dog, Yster. Yster went into the grass, and within minutes had found my trophy. We waded in and were standing over the Hardebeest when without warning, a few feet away in the heavy grass, Yster found something new to bark about.
The surprised look on Willem’s face left me with a feeling of apprehension. Then in the next moment, the word “snake” fell from his lips. All my mind could see at this time, was a Black Mamba or a Cobra or a Puff Adder.
I quickly started looking for a tree to climb when to my horror, the commotion of dog and whatever else was coming right for me. As the grass parted, and I envisioned I had seen my lovely wife for the last time, a porcupine waddled casually across the toe of my boot.
With a sigh of relief, I returned to the truck and let the trackers drag my Red Hardebeest out to the clearing.
Hero of the hunt - the laundry lady for cleaning my britches!
To the end of the story...