South African Adventure Part the Last
In which my father lets Africa teach him a little something...
One of the most elusive and prized trophies in Africa has to be the Bushbuck. They live in the heaviest, thickest brush that an animal can live in. I had Bushbucks at the distance of a few feet and could not take the shot because of the thick brush.
On the morning of the fifth day, after looking at three different Bushbucks in cover so thick as to reduce Brer Rabbit to tears, we found a Bushbuck and his harem coming out of the reeds.
Closing the distance with the truck as fast as we could, Willem and I set out on foot after this great trophy. My heart was pounding as my eyes searched each thicket for a hoof, an ear, or any part of this elusive animal.
We pushed on further into the bush, and my excitement grew with each and every step. All of a sudden, the brush to the right exploded and coming to view at a full run was this magnificent trophy. Willem, in front of me, leaped to his left, the .280 in one swift motion came to my shoulder, the crosshairs found the base of the Bushbuck’s neck. The 160 grain bullet did its job, sending the Bushbuck tumbling in a cloud of dust.
It was with great pride that I looked down on this magnificent animal.
I took larger antelope. I took smaller antelope. I shot animals standing and I shot animals running. I thank God for the opportunities that He has afforded me in my lifetime to pursue the sport of hunting that I love so much.
With eight animals, my African safari was complete. The only sad part is that I did not get to share this great adventure with the love of my life!
Leroy’s Eland
On the last afternoon of our hunt, we came across the tracks of a large Eland bull. The bull was running by himself and was becoming a nuisance and possible danger to the village close by.
We continued to follow the tracks and about a half mile from the village, we caught up with the large bull. As the bull headed for heavy cover, Leroy had just enough time to squeeze off one round. The .300 H & H roared to life, but the hit was a little too far back. The bull disappeared in the heavy bush.
Retrieving my .338 WinMag, I joined Willem and Yster already on the blood trail of the giant Eland. We had not progressed far into the heavy brush when the barking by the little dog let us know the bull was close.
Willem snapped off a quick shot with his .375, hitting the bull too far back. At the same moment, the Eland, with a mighty kick, sent Yster sailing. When the little dog his the ground, he couldn’t get up, but lay frighteningly still, whimpering.
Willem exclaimed loudly, “Bastard, you killed my dog!”
As the bull three-quartered into the brush, and as Willem headed for the little dog, he shouted, “Frank shoot the Bastard!”
Throwing the Remington to my shoulder, I put the crosshairs of the Leupold scope behind the shoulder of the big bull and sent the 225 grain Barnes bullet to its mark. The Eland came to a halt and looked back at me from behind a tree.
I will never forget the cold, hard stare from this giant beast. With a fast, well-placed shot behind the ear of the Eland, the enormous bull hit the ground in a cloud of dust. Willem returned to my side and to my joy, Yster appeared to be okay.
As we stood over Leroy’s fine trophy, I again was filled with the joy of being able to take part in this fine hunt.
A Zebra for Karen
Late in the last day of our African safari, Leroy learned from Willem that Karen would like to have a Zebra rug. So the hunt was on for a Zebra.
After looking over two or three different herds of Zebra, none having the good manners to stand long enough to afford Leroy a good shot, we pressed further into the hunting area. We jumped a herd of about twenty-five Zebra and they began to gallop to the east.
Willem knew of a place where we could cut them off. If we hurried and got there first we might pull the herd to a stop and give Leroy the time for the shot.
As we were driving east, I could see the herd of Zebra paralleling us 200 yards in the bush. As they crashed through the heavy cover, they jumped four large Kudu bulls who began paralleling the truck at 50 yards. Their graceful gait made them a sight to behold.
We arrived at our destination at just about the same time as the Zebras. They did not stop but they did slow their pace as they veered left and headed north. As the stripes paraded through a small clearing, Willem instructed Leroy to shoot. The .300 found a mark hitting the Zebra in the mid-section.
As the dust settled, the trackers began the arduous task of singling out the wounded Zebra. I retrieved my rifle and joined Willem, Steven, and Meshach. As we searched the bush for sign, the Zebra herd had not run far, but was milling around in the bush in front of us.
All eyes and ears were focused on the surrounding bush. The setting sun made the bush a uniquely magical place. The gray branches and the dark shadows gave everything a “Zebra” quality.
After finding a promising blood train, and traveling maybe a half-mile, I caught movement off to the right. I pointed the movement out to Willem and with a well-placed shot from his .375, our last African trophy was collected.
As the safari ended and I leave Africa, there were things impressed in my mind that I will remember all the rest of my life. Some of the most notable are as follows:
-I came half-way around the world and met people that are just like me. They work hard every day, laugh, and love their families just as I do.
-The slavery issue I see today is not one of race, but it’s more of finances and the unavailability of upward moving opportunities.
-I will remember all of the hunts and all of the interactions with the people there, but I will also remember how small I am in relationship to the world.
What a wonder God’s hand has made!
I really just posted this here for Anderson family posterity, but I do hope you read it. I think it's pretty damn cool.
One of the most elusive and prized trophies in Africa has to be the Bushbuck. They live in the heaviest, thickest brush that an animal can live in. I had Bushbucks at the distance of a few feet and could not take the shot because of the thick brush.
On the morning of the fifth day, after looking at three different Bushbucks in cover so thick as to reduce Brer Rabbit to tears, we found a Bushbuck and his harem coming out of the reeds.
Closing the distance with the truck as fast as we could, Willem and I set out on foot after this great trophy. My heart was pounding as my eyes searched each thicket for a hoof, an ear, or any part of this elusive animal.
We pushed on further into the bush, and my excitement grew with each and every step. All of a sudden, the brush to the right exploded and coming to view at a full run was this magnificent trophy. Willem, in front of me, leaped to his left, the .280 in one swift motion came to my shoulder, the crosshairs found the base of the Bushbuck’s neck. The 160 grain bullet did its job, sending the Bushbuck tumbling in a cloud of dust.
It was with great pride that I looked down on this magnificent animal.
I took larger antelope. I took smaller antelope. I shot animals standing and I shot animals running. I thank God for the opportunities that He has afforded me in my lifetime to pursue the sport of hunting that I love so much.
With eight animals, my African safari was complete. The only sad part is that I did not get to share this great adventure with the love of my life!
Leroy’s Eland
On the last afternoon of our hunt, we came across the tracks of a large Eland bull. The bull was running by himself and was becoming a nuisance and possible danger to the village close by.
We continued to follow the tracks and about a half mile from the village, we caught up with the large bull. As the bull headed for heavy cover, Leroy had just enough time to squeeze off one round. The .300 H & H roared to life, but the hit was a little too far back. The bull disappeared in the heavy bush.
Retrieving my .338 WinMag, I joined Willem and Yster already on the blood trail of the giant Eland. We had not progressed far into the heavy brush when the barking by the little dog let us know the bull was close.
Willem snapped off a quick shot with his .375, hitting the bull too far back. At the same moment, the Eland, with a mighty kick, sent Yster sailing. When the little dog his the ground, he couldn’t get up, but lay frighteningly still, whimpering.
Willem exclaimed loudly, “Bastard, you killed my dog!”
As the bull three-quartered into the brush, and as Willem headed for the little dog, he shouted, “Frank shoot the Bastard!”
Throwing the Remington to my shoulder, I put the crosshairs of the Leupold scope behind the shoulder of the big bull and sent the 225 grain Barnes bullet to its mark. The Eland came to a halt and looked back at me from behind a tree.
I will never forget the cold, hard stare from this giant beast. With a fast, well-placed shot behind the ear of the Eland, the enormous bull hit the ground in a cloud of dust. Willem returned to my side and to my joy, Yster appeared to be okay.
As we stood over Leroy’s fine trophy, I again was filled with the joy of being able to take part in this fine hunt.
A Zebra for Karen
Late in the last day of our African safari, Leroy learned from Willem that Karen would like to have a Zebra rug. So the hunt was on for a Zebra.
After looking over two or three different herds of Zebra, none having the good manners to stand long enough to afford Leroy a good shot, we pressed further into the hunting area. We jumped a herd of about twenty-five Zebra and they began to gallop to the east.
Willem knew of a place where we could cut them off. If we hurried and got there first we might pull the herd to a stop and give Leroy the time for the shot.
As we were driving east, I could see the herd of Zebra paralleling us 200 yards in the bush. As they crashed through the heavy cover, they jumped four large Kudu bulls who began paralleling the truck at 50 yards. Their graceful gait made them a sight to behold.
We arrived at our destination at just about the same time as the Zebras. They did not stop but they did slow their pace as they veered left and headed north. As the stripes paraded through a small clearing, Willem instructed Leroy to shoot. The .300 found a mark hitting the Zebra in the mid-section.
As the dust settled, the trackers began the arduous task of singling out the wounded Zebra. I retrieved my rifle and joined Willem, Steven, and Meshach. As we searched the bush for sign, the Zebra herd had not run far, but was milling around in the bush in front of us.
All eyes and ears were focused on the surrounding bush. The setting sun made the bush a uniquely magical place. The gray branches and the dark shadows gave everything a “Zebra” quality.
After finding a promising blood train, and traveling maybe a half-mile, I caught movement off to the right. I pointed the movement out to Willem and with a well-placed shot from his .375, our last African trophy was collected.
As the safari ended and I leave Africa, there were things impressed in my mind that I will remember all the rest of my life. Some of the most notable are as follows:
-I came half-way around the world and met people that are just like me. They work hard every day, laugh, and love their families just as I do.
-The slavery issue I see today is not one of race, but it’s more of finances and the unavailability of upward moving opportunities.
-I will remember all of the hunts and all of the interactions with the people there, but I will also remember how small I am in relationship to the world.
What a wonder God’s hand has made!
I really just posted this here for Anderson family posterity, but I do hope you read it. I think it's pretty damn cool.