Volume 1, Issue 1

HUNTING

WE

ARE

â„¢

celebrating the hunting lifestyle

Volume 1, Issue 1

J & R GURAM CAMPAIGN FURNITURE & EQUIPAGE For The Traveller & Explorer

WWW.GURAMS.COM info@jandrguram.com

WE

ARE

HUNTING

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Jocelyn Engel PRODUCTION EDITOR Gerdi Fullard CONSERVATION EDITOR Ivan Carter

Volume 1, Issue 1

CONTENTS

ADVERTISING sales@huntersinc.com

24

GENERAL ENQUIRIES info@huntersinc.com

36

PUBLISHER Huntersinc.com LLC POSTAL ADDRESS PO Box 7920 Waco,Texas 76714 USA All copyright of the contents herein is held by the publisher, Huntersinc.com LLC. No part of the publication may be reproduced in any way without the express written permission of the publisher.

The publisher accepts no responsibility for the content of advertisements. Editorial opinions expressed are not necessarily those of the publisher.

The editor reserves the right to change, edit and/or shorten articles submitted to it by contributors.

172

Editorial contributions must be directed to the editor via email: editor@huntersinc.com

68

54 6

LETTER FROM THE EDITOR Jocelyn Engel CONSERVATION CHRONICLES

10 Ivan Carter

THE GHOST ANTELOPE

14 Frank Vannier PERDIZ

24 Jim Niemiec / Dr Patricio Geijo MY AFRICAN DREAM COME TRUE

36 Dexter Barnes MONGOLIA

54 Chris Nash

FIRST MOUNTAIN NYALA

68 Peter Flack

P FOR PARIS

96 Jofie Lamprecht PROFESSIONAL PERSPECTIVE

110 Mike Angelides ROMANIA

132 Adrian Matei A TALE OF TWO ZEBRAS

150 Jackson Engel

THE ROWDY SEASON

172 Bowen Parrish

“We’re on a safari into the past in search of the future.”

George Butler—In the Blood

Our primary goal with WE ARE HUNTING is to tell your stories. To give you, the hunters and the outfitters, a global audience for tales you would tell around the campfire. If you have a story you would like to share please submit it to us. It is through the telling of our stories that we nurture the future and find the way forward. And so, it is with great pleasure that we present to you our inaugural issue of WE ARE HUNTING. Let’s dream of better days ahead. Let’s keep HOPE alive!

Jocelyn Engel Editor-in-Chief

HUNTING

WE

ARE

6

A Poem by Kitty O’Meara

WE

At the time, we could not have foretold the massive changes in our global landscape.

There are many questions surrounding the future of the hunting industry at the moment. Many of us have been hard hit financially and face a future we do not recognize, but it is our HOPE that much like the bushveld after a devastating fire, the industry will regenerate in ways we did not foresee. Fire clears out, refines, makes room for new, abundant growth that’s more robust than it could have been without the fire. We are looking for new growth in the ashes that will allow us all to recover. In the face of these uncertainties, we HOPE that we have provided a new way of connecting clients and outfitters across the world that will serve the hunting and conservation community well. With this vision in mind we then began dreaming of offering a digital magazine as an added feature for our members to tell stories celebrating the hunting lifestyle. And thus, WE ARE HUNTING was born and we began curating stories from around the globe. We believe that this magazine will help keep your hunting dreams alive. No matter if we are quarantined or prevented from travelling right now, these directives do not bind our imaginations.

As we have all learned through hunting--the moments that we see as trials right now, will be forged into legend over time. So, as we globally pause and stay home to help keep each other healthy, we can still dream of better days ahead. There are so many adventures out there for the taking. This issue highlights some of the best we’ve found. We HOPE it nurtures your sense of adventure to get back to the wild places we all love.

And people stayed home.

And read books, and listened, and rested, and exercised, and made art, and played games, and learned new ways of being, and were still.

And listened more deeply. Some meditated, some prayed, some danced.

Some met their shadows.

And people began to think differently. And the people healed.And, in the absence of people living in ignorant, dangerous, mindless and heartless ways, the earth began to heal. And when the danger passed, and people joined together again, they grieved for their losses, and made new choices, and dreamed new images, and created new ways to live and heal the earth fully, as they had been healed.

HUNTING

ARE

HuntersInc.com started as a dream to connect global hunters and outfitters in an exciting, exclusive, accountable environment that promotes integrity and excellence in the hunting industry while also preserving the traditions, rights and values so cherished by our “tribe”. We wanted to stand as a protector for the worldwide community of hunting enthusiasts committed to the sustainable utilization of the Earth’s precious resources.

7

WWW.511TACTICAL.COM

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

8

9

W

hat is the Definition o f C o n s e r vat i o n ?

W

soil and vegetation that must be nourished and protected. The truth of the matter is that these large charismatic species are simply easier to raise dollars around and so using the face of a lion, or the Being that this is the very first face of a rhino to raise conservation funding is an easier prospect. column I’m writing for the first However, let me ask you—if we save issue of this great magazine, WE all the lions, all the elephants and ARE HUNTING, I thought that all the giraffes, or any other specie this would be a great place to for that matter, then what good is all start. Is dehorning a rhinoceros that effort without the viable habitat conservation? Is the work of an anti-poaching team conservation? Is and a healthy ecosystem for them to the translocation of a herd of giraffe exist in? to repopulate another landscape So, in short, the true meaning conservation? In my mind yes, yes, of conservation has to be “the and yes those are great elements of conservation, but no they are not conserving of the entire biodiversity of a healthy ecosystem”. If we can conservation in its entirety. work towards that end then we are What is the sense in conserving truly working on conservation in its purest form. So yes, conservation an individual species if you’re not takes many, many forms, but the conserving a balanced ecosystem for it to exist in? Such an true meaning of it must remain ecosystem isn’t one-dimensional. constant if we have a hope of achieving it.

It’s multi-faceted and it includes not only the large iconic species, In conservation and until next time, but also the insects, birds, reptiles, amphibians, and small mammals.

All of those lifeforms are dependent IMC Conservation Editor on habitat, which consists of e all talk conservation, but few of us actually do conservation and if we’re really honest, even fewer of us actually analyze the true meaning of the word.

HUNTING

WE

ARE

10

WE

with Ivan Carter

HUNTING

ARE

CONSERVATION CHRONICLES™

11

"There may be a day I cannot make a difference, but there will never be a day that I do not try."

- Ivan Carter DONATE NOW I n v e s t W i t h U s A n d W e P r o m i s e M o r e W i l d l i f e I n H e a lt h i e r E c o s y s t e m s WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

12

w w w. i v a n c a r t e r w c a .o r g | i n f o @ i v a n c a r t e r.c o m

13

by Frank Vannier

Since 1971 Frank and four generations of the Vannier family have had the ambition of making Faro Safaris a purist-hunting outfitter in Cameroon and their longterm monitored ‘sanctuaries’ are the last refuges of a world wildlife heritage.

HUNTING

WE

ARE

14

The first hunter of the season and his son arrive on the 28th of December from Turin. My thanks go to them for having supplied us with delicious, fresh Nile Perch throughout their stay. Now on his second safari with us, my guest desires the two most sporting antelopes to hunt within our savannah: a Lord Derby Eland and a Western Roan.

It’s now 5am on the 8th day of hunting. We are still after our primary quarry, the Lord Derby or “Giant” Eland. We travel on a dirt road leading to a lateritic plateau, which produces prolific isoberlinia WE

Antelope

I

HUNTING

ARE

The Ghost

t’s mid-November and the last raindrop has just fallen. Dry season has arisen. The long green grass will rapidly wilt in order to better crackle in the first bush fires. As with every year, I set foot on Africa’s red soil after two months of commercial prospecting in Europe. My main concern then was to find a “Caterpillar” so as to reopen trails gullied by the heavy downpours and to improve the overall road network.

The 173,000 acre hunting concession located between Garoua and Ngaoundere boasts varied landscapes. Built on the edge of the Faro River, the camp offers stunning views of the natural pools and beauty beyond. This idyllic setting still offers poetic inspiration and invites refreshing meditation. As I arrive, I’m sure a few of the thatched roofs, devoured by the voracious termites during the off-season, will have to be restored. Then the hunting can begin.

15

and gardenia flora. Their waxy leaves and fragrant flowers are highly prized by these bovidae. All of the sudden I spot tracks on the road. I kill the engine on my Land Rover Discovery. The trackers immediately emerge from their morning lethargy, numbed from the cool overnight 16°C temperature. The numerous footprints, plant debris and droppings allow us to excitedly estimate a herd of about thirty Lord Derby

point, bewildering a superb Bohor Reedbuck that decamped towards a non-burnt area of golden, high grass.

We proceed up a hillside when all of a sudden, I detect movement in the distance. We freeze in our tracks immediately. I lift my binoculars and spot two Western hartebeests calmly grazing and a little further, a darker mass covered with a thick shield of vegetation. I take a few steps to the side alone in order to peer properly at the massive shape. A Lord Derby Eland is standing at 300 yards! I instinctively squat down and the rest of the team follows suit. The animal I have detected is a female.

Undoubtedly a straggler since the rest of the herd still remains invisible.

A

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

16

The herd should be in the bottomland. We need to take advantage of the situation now and move forward before they do. Fifty yards ahead, a charred tree trunk would be the perfect spot. We progress towards it, taking every precaution. I can feel Carlo’s growing sense of excitement.

Another 3 yards to go. Already two eland rumps are visible wandering up the opposite side. Then three, four, ten—the

HUNTING

ARE

Eland which crossed the track only an hour or so ago.

This is our lucky day at last! I check the wind direction: it’s good. We then begin tracking enthusiastically. The footprints lead us to a large muddy pond two miles ahead as the first rays of sunrise light the marvelous bluish Bantadjé chain of hills. The cooing of hundreds of turtledoves is accompanied by the buzzing of bees foraging on gardenias. We cross a foul-smelling water

ction time. I signal Carlos to join me. We cautiously approach, meter by meter, successively hidden by a tree trunk, a large stump, a thick bush and a small portion of high grass. We rotate between moving forward rapidly and short breaks—just enough to catch our breath and adjust our binoculars. At this time of day, animals benefit from the serenity of dawn to graze before resting. We’ve now travelled a hundred yards, but the female eland has disappeared in a shallow depression in the terrain. So too have the hartebeests. I am now observing two warthogs with spectacular teeth walking up the opposite side of the hollow, when two spiral horns are substituted for them in my binoculars—a young Lord Derby bull!

17

herd now stands 60 yards slightly beneath our position.

What a tremendous spectacle! We let our eyes and souls be filled with this extraordinary sight, momentarily forgetting the goal of our quest, and overwhelmed by great emotion. It is so rare to come across Giant Elands under such circumstances. It seems nearly too easy.

Nature is always so intriguing and fascinating.

Just a bit behind the bulk of the herd, three animals cover themselves with mud, picking dirt up with their massive horns—all three very big bulls! One of them, a heavily spiraled trophy with a powerful neck and black dewlap, joins the rest of the herd in a majestic trot. I point him out to Carlo. Unfortunately, just at that moment, the eland bull passes behind a calf and its mother. It is therefore impossible to shoot. The two hartebeests locate our position and are staring without respite. It is only a matter of time before they give an early warning of our presence.

W

e are so close now. In a few seconds we are about to forget all the grueling efforts of the past several days—the disappointments endured during all of the timeconsuming and ultimately unsuccessful tracking we have done which has left innumerable wounds on our knees and hands. Yet, two spooky hartebeests are about to reverse this situation. One of them dilates his nostrils and whistles loudly, awakening the attention of the whole eland herd. The reaction is immediate. The elands, like an army moving into defensive formation, gather in a circle to peer in all directions. The big bulls find refuge in the middle of the herd. The hartebeests nervously whistle once more. Then with their large eyes bulging, the elands snort loudly. Our giant bull only shows his white stripe-harnessed rump. There is no other shot. His impressive stature dominates any WE

ARE

HUNTING

19

other. I show him to Carlo and suggest that he shoot at this ignoble area. We risk losing all the opportunities if we do not stop him with a spine shot. Carlo meticulously raises the barrel of his .416, rests it on a tree trunk and begins to take aim. The seconds seem endless. Finally the rifle cracks. The echo of the impact reaches us as the eland rears up. The herd startles and thunders off in chaos, heading as one towards the mountain range.

The wounded animal stumbles and stands out from the rest of the herd. Carlo fires again and the eland topples over creating an impressive cloud of dust. An overwhelming joy invades our bodies as we embrace.

Carlo is slightly dazed while the euphoric trackers join us. As we get closer to this “ghost” of the Cameroon savannah, the trackers go around him and cover his eyes with dirt. They do not want to be recognized by the eland’s soul when it escapes the body of the animal.

Samaki, “the elder” tracker, contorts in a traditional dance as he apologizes to the reincarnated spirit within the Giant Lord Derby Eland.

Back to camp we go. Champagne will be flowing tonight.

Tom-toms will resonate under the Milky Way. We have quenched our thirst for authenticity and tomorrow is another day where new adventures await.

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

20

21

Hunting & Wildlife Conservation

A N INEVITABLE PARADOX "Thanks to our comprehensive knowledge, our field experience, our rigorous protection and our strong management in addition to our boundless passion, we are the keepers of a great diversity of wildlife. We alone know what we can take without harming native animal species. In Cameroon, our longterm monitored sanctuaries are the last refuges of a world wildlife heritage. With all due respect to our governance, no one in Africa will ever save wildlife without our close collaboration.", Frank Vannier, FARO SAFARIS "Maguida, Chronicles of a White Tracker" is a predominantly photographic publication of 304 pages, prepared by Frank & Xavier Vannier, professional hunters in Cameroon. This project is the achievement of nearly 30 years of writing. It chronicles the story of their passions: Hunting, Conservation & Photography.

The theatre of these chronicles is a hunting concession in Cameroon, protected by Frank and his family since 1971.

Contact to place an order: contact@farosafaris.com

Available in French - Shipping across Europe included, contact us for other destinations

> Premium Edition: 450 copies - €165 > Prestige Edition: Luxurious box & finish, very limited and numbered edition - €520

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

22

All the profits associated with the sale of this book will be dedicated to the Wildlife Conservation Programmes driven by their organisation.

23

PERDIZ

A ONE-BIRD COVEY FLUSH

by Jim Niemiec

B

ird hunters head off annually to Safari Club International’s convention in Nevada to talk to outfitters about the many different upland game bird and waterfowl hunting opportunities available worldwide.

Prime bird hunting destinations from Canada, Mexico, South Africa, New Zealand and South America are well represented at this show and with good exchange rates now available, wing shooters are booking many distant hunts. I spent three days at such an SCI event in search of the best multiple species bird hunting destination and ended up booking a hunt with Dr. Patricio Geijo, owner and outfitter of Argentina Big Hunting.

Argentina offers by far the best dove hunting in the world, but this hunter’s quest was to concentrate on other bird species that are not found in any other part of the world.

WE

ARE

HUNTING

25

The highly prized perdiz upland game bird and a variety of unique and very colorful waterfowl, not found in any North American flyway, would be the focus of this hunt, but still allowing time to hunt for eared dove under massive flyways.

Dr. Geijo assured me that package hunts he offers are complete from the time of arrival in Buenos Aires, inclusive of everything during the hunt and a safe return back to Argentina’s national airport.

The flight from LAX to Buenos Aires, onboard an Aeromexico 777-200/300, was reasonable, on time and very comfortable.

The hunting lodge is on a sprawling “rancho” given by the King of Spain in the 1840s as a gift to one of his generals following numerous successful battles against native Argentineans. This particular estancia was built in 1850 by the general for one of his four daughters.

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

26

27

WHAT TO

EXPECT

After settling in, a traditional afternoon dove hunt was on tap. A fine selection of Berretta and Benelli shotguns were available and each hunter was assigned a bird boy. Dr. Geijo or his Hunt Master Lisandro Piaseschi made all hunting arrangements, both of whom are fluent in English.

After burning through 10 boxes of 20 gauge ammo there was a pile of eared dove on the ground and it was time to return to the lodge to talk about the next day’s hunt for perdiz.

I had no idea what to expect other than to be prepared to walk grass pastures and work closely behind a good gun dog. It had recently rained a total of 14 inches prior to our arrival and the black mud was ankle deep in places, which necessitated wearing knee high rubberhunting boots. It had rained so hard that all the nearby rivers were blown-out and our hopes of fishing for Golden Dorado on Rio Uruguay were unfortunately washed away with the heavy runoff from upstream dams.

HUNTING

WE

ARE

28

P

erdiz are basically a Partridge and are related to kiwis. Unlike a kiwi, Perdiz are not a flightless bird, however they do prefer to run from danger when possible. They roost together at night but during the day they feed individually. As the day goes on Perdiz scatter more and more and the likelihood of finding many together diminishes, for that reason Argentina Perdiz hunters prefer to hunt in the mornings when the birds have a better chance of being in a localized area.

Perdiz like to feed in really short grass so the walking is pretty easy. Because of their tendency to run hunting with pointers is recommended and in the short grass it is a joy to watch the dogs work. Perdiz will rarely stay still while the dog is on point.

You will see your dog point and creep, then point and creep again which means the hunter needs to keep up with the dogs. It is recommended that you hunt Perdiz into the wind, that way the dogs will have a constant scent to go on before the bird will flush. It is much like hunting small pheasants in the U.S.

FACT

FOCUS

There was no covey of perdiz though, as these birds are found mostly on their own, offering up a very explosive flush. It took me a while to get on target, but in less than an hour’s hunt an 8-bird limit was harvested.

WE

The Argentinean perdiz eats plants, typically seeds, and animal matter. In Argentina they seem to eat more of the animal matter then they do in other locations. The call of the perdiz (spotted nothura) is a series of brief high-pitched notes.This species can reproduce rapidly, as the female is mature within 2 months and can have five to six broods per year. The male does not mature as fast. The male will incubate the eggs and raise the chicks. Like most tinamous, its eggs have a spectacular glossy porcelainlike shell. This is colored a rich maroon or chocolate brown in this species. The clutch contains 4-6 eggs. All tinamou are from the family Tinamidae, and in the larger scheme are also ratites. Unlike other ratites, tinamous can fly, although in general, they are not strong fliers.

Out of seemingly nowhere came the distinct flushing sound of a single perdiz to the right, which had me swinging way behind that bird.

Expecting there to be more perdiz holding tight, I kept the Benelli shouldered, as one would do when hunting any of our native quail in the States.

HUNTING

ARE

T

he Perdiz (Nothura maculosa) is a species of tinamou. This bird is native to grassy habitats in eastern and northern Argentina, Uruguay and eastern or southern Brazil. It is approximately 24 to 25.5 cm (9.4–10.0 in) in length. The upper parts are brown with streaked buff. The under parts are buff streaked with black and brown on the breast, with barring to the flanks. Its crown is black streaked with buff and the throat is white. The overall hue in color varies greatly over its range; in part caused by the differences in soil at the specific localities. It and the closely related Chaco nothura, N. chacoensis, are the only nothuras with barring to both webs of the primaries. The legs are dull yellowish-grey or brown.

Upon entering the first field on a foggy next morning, my guide told me to stay right behind Marbo, a black 10-year-old German Shorthair that had a keen nose, but ranged pretty far out making it difficult for this veteran wing shooter to keep pace at times. Marbo went on a strong point and then moved cautiously through thick cover.

31

Hunting perdiz was perhaps, among all the hunts that this hunting editor has enjoyed over the years, the most rewarding of all. Not only because the hunt took place in a wonderful country, but the classic style of the hunt, the flush of this game bird and watching top gun dogs in action…it just all came together!

The duck hunt would entail shooting over a small pond with a dozen decoys and the average shot would be taken at decoying flocks of ducks at a distance of 10 to 20 yards. Talk about an awesome duck shoot, this avid waterfowl hunter can never recall such an enjoyable duck shoot in over a half century of hunting waterfowl.

With a liberal limit of 25 ducks, one has time to select each shot taken. Most of the ducks harvested were either Brazilian ducks or speckled teal with a few other varieties, adding to the heavy game strap by the end of the hunt. The chef at this historic hunting lodge prepared excellent wild game and flavorful Argentine grassfed beef amongst other native dishes—all of which we enjoyed at every meal with an excellent selection of Argentinian wine.

HUNTING

WE

ARE

32

PRINTED BY PERMISSION OF DR. PATRICIO GEIJO Dr. Geijo started Argentina Big Hunting more than ten years ago with a dream about a hunting company capable of providing superb hunting experiences to all hunters keen to travel to these distant lands of Argentina.

WE

The flooded Rio Uruguay river system had spread out the duck population, but under the tens of thousands of acres of prime bird and big game habitat owned or under lease by this outfitter there were no less than 50 small ponds and oxbows that offered excellent duck hunting. No geese are allowed to be harvested in Argentina, so that option would be off the table. Offering either #5 or #7 Active shotgun shells in either 12 or 20 gauge, I opted for #7 shot perfectly matched to a 20 gauge Benelli autoloader.

The entire hunting experience that offered up full bags of both perdiz and puddle ducks, the wonderful people, the food and fine wine, made for a very enjoyable time spent in Argentina.

Everything from a tango show in old town Buenos Aires to touring the palace of the first president of Argentina was outstanding. This hunting destination is one that any reader would thoroughly enjoy.

HUNTING

ARE

According to Dr. Geijo the perdiz is native to Argentina with a very sustainable hunting population across the country, but this bird is very vulnerable to adverse conditions and doesn’t survive even a single spent pellet. In the best interest of conservation and good game management, if a perdiz is winged (dusted) or drops one of its legs, it is considered a killed bird and included as a dead bird in your daily bag limit. My plan was to switch back and forth from hunting perdiz or ducks in the morning, to dove hunting or touring in the afternoon.

33

When investing in an ELS & CO. product you are not only buying a top end leather item, you’re also buying into a belief that we can all make a difference, one small bit at a time.

Els & Co. is a small leather studio nestled on the foot of the Simonsberg mountain range in Stellenbosch, South Africa. The backbone, heart and soul of our business is the incredible team of isiXhosa craftswomen who have been trained from scratch to the highest level of craftsmanship. We’ve even gone so far as to train our top three craftswomen to manage the entire production process from start to finish, taking them from domestic workers to production managers in a short 5 years. This is something we are immensely proud of.

The Els & Co. story is one of upliftment, sustainability and revival of the lost art of fine leather craftsmanship. Each product is entirely handmade by a single craftswoman; from dyeing the leather, cutting the stitching groove, bevelling the edges, moulding the leather, drilling each stitching hole and finally hand stitching the product with two needles, one from each side of the hole. Lastly each item if finished by embossing has the craftswomen’s initials on it, giving her proud ownership of what she has made. As we continue to grow, knowledge gets transferred from the older craftswomen to the rookies, creating a strong, sustainable thread to ensure we’ll still be here 100 year form now. It’s become our mission to build a company that does not only produce exceptional leather products, but also one that cultivates a strong social conscience. By giving one woman an opportunity to uplift herself, we know it’s an entire family that will benefit from it, and so slowly, one woman at a time, an entire community is uplifted - making a genuinely notable difference.

MY

AFRICAN

dream come true

I

was born in the Australian outback, son to a farmer and a schoolteacher. My mother gave up teaching to raise a family, so being the firstborn she tried hard to teach me. All I wanted to do was be out on the property chasing rabbits, foxes, birds and whatever else was moving.

Mother insisted on me reading, which introduced me to the renowned author Wilbur Smith, and that is what started my dreams of Africa.

At age 16 I left home to do an apprenticeship with a singular mindset. I wanted to save enough money to travel to Africa. At 20, after completing my apprenticeship, I was off to fulfill those dreams.

by Dexter Barnes WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

36

37

“THE DRUMS BEAT LOUD IN AFRICA”

HUNTING

WE

ARE

38

WE

I was back in Africa and living my dream once again. Like anywhere in the world you meet people with the same interests who introduce you to likeminded people and so things perpetuate. In my case I was introduced to a specific hunting farm that I now simply call “The Farm” and with my Australian English I took down the instructions on how to get there. I rose before dawn the next day and set off. After five hours of driving I was pretty sure that I’d arrived. My scribbled instructions were “left, then right, go through 5 gates, first home on the right”.

The first house that I saw was set back 250m from the road. As I approached the entry road to that home, two ladies were walking along the road, one carrying a baby, the other one carrying a large pile of goods on her head. I stopped and asked about directions to the farm I was supposed to visit. The younger lady said I should follow the road for a couple of bends. Now I wasn’t sure. I thought I had it all written down properly, but off I went anyway. Seven more gates, a few more bends and two homesteads later I came to a T-junction.

Now what? The distance markers on the nearby road sign implied that I was two hours away from the last town I had just left. I turned around.

By the time I reached the last homestead I had passed, it was already early afternoon. I stopped the Toyota, got out, walked up to the gate and called, “Hello, anybody home?” I was about to leave when an older gentleman came out of the house rubbing his eyes. It was apparent

HUNTING

ARE

N

ow forty-two years later I’ve been traveling to Africa every year, and fourteen years ago I even shipped my Toyota 4x4 flatbed to Namibia. On this particular trip, I’d arrived in Windhoek for my annual visit. My good friend Manfred Egerer, the owner of Nyati Wildlife Art taxidermy, had brought my Toyota into town from the farm. He met me with his normal big smile and firm handshake.

39

that I’d just woken a farmer from his afternoon nap.

He walked up to me, extended his hand and said, “Hello Dexter!” How did he know my name I asked?

“The drums. The drums beat loud in Africa,” he said.

It turned out he was the father-in-law of the farmer I was to visit and his daughter had phoned and said, “Dad, if you see a white Toyota pass your house, stop him and give him directions to ours!” He had been on the lookout for me. So, now three hours late I finally arrived at “The Farm.” After some scones with jam and cream and many cups of coffee I was told we`d stay on The Farm overnight and leave for a crocodile hunt way up on the Kunene River in the morning.

The Kunene River serves as Namibia’s northwestern border with Angola. This river is notorious for very aggressive crocodiles and I was excited to get up there and hunt these ill-tempered lizards. However, as so often happens when hunting, our immediate plans changed. While we sat around the campfire that evening the topic of a big herd of eland that had been seen at a nearby watering point came up. This proved to be too much of a temptation to pass up—the crocodile would have to wait another day or two!

The next morning after breakfast I set of with a local Master Hunting Guide. We left the Toyota a kilometer from the watering point and stalked closer. The only thing we encountered was a large herd of cattle, so we decided to climb into an elevated blind, and wait there until high noon.

I was nearly in the blind when the guide grabbed me by my trouser leg and pointed excitedly. I used my binoculars and over a distant tree line I could see some eland cows. The guide’s pulling got more frantic and I nearly fell off the blind’s rickety ladder. Lying under WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

40

41

“ONLY IN AFRICA, I THOUGHT” another tree was a beautiful, huge eland bull I hadn’t seen. I managed to climb all the way into the blind to have a better look but couldn’t see him from there. Down we went to have a better and maybe closer look.

River just as the sun was setting. I was happy to be there on the tranquil river as we’d passed many people, donkeys, cattle, goats and sheep on the way. We even had to stop for a huge giraffe bull in the road. Only in Africa, I thought.

When passing some cattle, they took an interest in us and moved closer, so we used them as a screen to shield our movement from the bull. As we walked past a suitable tree, I rested my Sako Anniversary 80 .375 H&H against the trunk. By now the eland bull was standing and looking at the cattle. He was standing broadside and gave me a perfect side shot. I fired the 300gr Federal Powershock and the eland didn’t even take one step before collapsing in a heap. Wow—I was really back in Africa again!

We loaded the magnificent bull onto the Toyota bakkie and were back at the homestead in time for lunch. Then we hurriedly took off to go after the crocodile. After a long, dusty drive we arrived at the Kunene

For the crocodile hunt, an experienced big-game PH guided me. He told me around the campfire that evening that a huge crocodile had taken a goat on the Angolan side of the river just that afternoon. This was directly across the river from the lodge where we were staying.

We woke up early the next morning and it was already very hot in the river valley that cuts through the Namib desert. The view from our breakfast table was beautiful. We had seven full hunting days ahead of us. Another croc was pestering the local Himba population at a nearby garden patch and they asked us to dispatch it, so we decided to take a look.

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

42

43

The lodge operators also told us that the domestic animals were in poor condition and were getting stuck in the mud along the river`s edge regularly. We took off on a scouting trip, but first had to collect the game scout. On the way we encountered a herd of Angwolan black-faced impala. The PH still had a permit for one of these freerange impala.

“46° CELSIUS...

NOW IT WAS REALLY HOT”

It was the first season in 35 years that the government had issued hunting permits for this species. Of course I was interested! We glassed the herd but found no suitable ram. So, we proceeded to collect the game scout and after an hour of delays we were off.

We proceeded to drive as close as possible along the river`s edge for a while and then we continued walking on the bank. We spotted several crocs, but nothing that got us excited. The game scout had arranged some bait for us—an old donkey that was on its last legs because of the drought. We placed the bait in two different places and continued stalking, driving and glassing for the “big one”. The sunset on day one and we retired to camp and our beds.

Day two shone hot and bright as we slowly walked up to our first bait.

We had chosen a small dry watercourse that ran into the main river channel. As we peeked over the edge of some nearby rocks (we were 35 meters from the water`s edge) we saw the back of a very large crocodile. I got excited, but from our position we couldn’t see his head.

We needed to get higher, so we slowly edged our way along the rock embankment. As I was getting ready to put my rifle up, a pair of Redbilled Spurfowl landed in front of us. They spooked immediately and as they took off they made a terrible ruckus. The croc threw his head over his tail, did a 180-degree turn and disappeared into the safety of the water. Well, that’s hunting they say. The second bait hadn’t been touched, so we continued stalking along the river’s edge to no avail.

The Kunene River rises and falls as the dam sluices at the power station 45 kilometers upstream are opened and closed. Every morning power is needed, so the sluices open and it takes the water 15 hours WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

44

45

“IT WAS THE BIG ONE

WE WERE LOOKING FOR...”

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

46

might be a shooter, but we decided to have a look at the baits again.

When we arrived at the last bait, we noticed a crocodile floating about 40 meters away in the middle of the river. It was the big one we were looking for. As if it knew it was safe from our rifles, the croc just gently submerged and the next time we saw it he climbed out of the water on the Angolan side of the river. Thus, the waiting game continued.

When we arrived back at the Toyota the temperature gauge showed 46 degrees Celsius, at 3:16pm. Now it was really hot. On day four while walking on the river’s edge and checking our baits we came across the “garden croc” and saw that he had a piece of his tail missing. This

HUNTING

ARE

to reach our location. On weekends the power station is closed, so the water level in the river is very low on Sundays and Mondays. This being the case, we found two cows that had gotten stuck in the mud and died. The crocs had found the carcasses and been feeding on them. We chained what remained of them to the closest tree, so now we had four baits to check every day. Still looking for impala, we spotted some rams on a small island, but after glassing them found no shooter amongst the herd. The morning of day three passed with us stalking down the river on our routine of checking baits and scouting the locals’ vegetable garden. The croc they described to us

47

“THE DROUGHT HAD TAKEN ITS TOLL...”

is a common occurrence with mature crocodiles and usually happens from territorial fights with other crocs. By then the baits had started to smell really foul, but the crocodiles didn’t seem to mind. Slowly continuing our walk, we bumped another herd of impala which ran from the water`s edge—all ewes this time. We decided to get a closer look just in case there was a hidden ram amongst them and were keeping a close eye on a troupe of Vervet monkeys when a single impala ram ran up the riverbank, giving us a good fright. Without having to look at the ram through his binoculars, the PH put up the shooting sticks. The ram slowly moved through the trees, and we carefully followed, always at the ready.

When he stood still, I put my Swarovski range finder on him—the shot was 96 meters. The Blaser R8 .338 WM was already on the sticks and I fired. We heard the whack of the bullet and the ram took off. I watched him through my scope, but it seemed like I must have hit a branch. He would need a follow-up shot for sure. I grabbed the shooting sticks and moved to a spot where I could take a clear shot.

The drought had taken its toll on the bottom of the trees, which looked like someone had taken a hedge clipper to them. They were trimmed perfectly at goat height crating a great sight line for me. I shot again and the ram went straight down this time. As we walked up to the animal, the excitement could be heard for kilometers. This impala ram was really something special. The PH was running in circles looking for his measuring tape. He realized he didn’t have it with him, but for me as a hunter this was a good sign that this was a wonderful trophy. The tracker and game scout set out skinning the impala, and it seemed like only seconds had passed when two Himba tribesmen emerged from the bushes with a cast iron pot. A fire was made and the liver, heart and kidneys were cooked and eaten before the impala was even fully skinned out. The meat was then divided into seven equal portions, which were delivered to the small local village. It might not be a lot of meat, but the local folks were extremely happy to receive it. We still had time left in our hunting day to have a look at the bait where we’d last seen the big croc, but with no success. That meant we’d give the big one some space and so the next day we would try WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

48

49

HUNTING

WE

ARE

50

The Kunene valley was a spectacular area to hunt and I’d been fortunate to collect two lovely animals along the banks of this mighty river, in addition to the gorgeous eland bull earlier on The Farm. When we left the next morning for the long trip back, it was great to sit in the air-conditioned Land Cruiser for the ten-hour trip back to Windhoek.

WE

After five days of spotting crocs up and down the river, this was not a fun walk. My left arm was full of shoes and clothes, my binoculars were around my neck and my rifle was in the other hand whilst I tried not to slip in the mud and rocks. Not a good feeling. Safely on the island’s shore it was back on with my clothes, socks and boots. We moved slowly along the edge until we thought we were level with the crocodile on the backside of the island. A careful peak over the top of a small dune confirmed we were in position. I crawled up through the sparse grass onto one of those typical thorny, spiky, unfriendly African bushes.

Resting my rifle on a branch I ranged the distance to be 48 meters.

Through the 15-power scope the croc looked very close. The PH had already asked me to put a second shot into him as soon as I could. The first shot hit the brain. While the croc shivered I put a second bullet in him. Then all was quiet. It turned out not to be the biggest croc in the river, but it was the one that had been terrorizing the local population.

And besides, there was definitely a handbag in there somewhere to make my wife happy—a must when a fella wants the freedom to go back hunting again!

HUNTING

ARE

and take care of the “garden croc” for the locals. Day five found our team was out early as usual and we found lots of crocs lying about because of the extreme heat early in the day. By midday they would all be back in the water to regulate their temperature. The “garden croc” was nowhere to be found, so we stalked on. One of our trackers who had walked ahead spotted a large crocodile out on an island. It had a piece of the tail missing—our croc for sure. We carefully maneuvered downstream and removed our boots, socks and trousers. Then we carefully waded across the shallows to the island, ever watchful for other unseen crocodiles.

51

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

52

53

THE RESURRECTION OF

Chris lives in Australia and started hunting overseas back THE MAGNIFICENT when Mongolian Maral hunting was at its peak in 1995-96, MONGOLIAN seeing an immediate need for a western guide who could MARAL assist hunters with logistics in these remote locations.

T

he demise of the great herd of Maral in Mongolia some 20 years ago is well documented. Those of us, like myself, who experienced Mongolian Maral hunting before that time, had an adventure back in time firmly and forever etched into our hunting psyche. Then, for these great Maral herds to be decimated the way they were, mostly due to poaching and winter die-offs, it was sad and depressing for me.

I first went to Mongolia some 23 years ago and lucky for me my work, which is my passion, has allowed me to return to Mongolia many times with my friend and outfitter to escort hunters hunting for ibex and sheep.

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

54

55

Coming to Mongolia is a step back in time.

For me, it’s always been an experience of the true essence of hunting when the taking of the trophy is only a component of the trip itself.

From my experience of escorting and guiding hunters in some of the great destinations of Asia like Kyrgyzstan, Central Siberia, the Russian Far East, and Pakistan, Mongolia is the most rewarding hunting experience of all.

All of these different hunting destinations hatruly wild and untouched hunting areas that are not affected by the hand of man.

In Mongolia when a trophy is taken the guides have a spiritual ritual they play out, thanking the mountain gods on this particular day for giving up this animal.

There is also a process of preserving some blood for the success of the day and upon arrival back at camp it’s a celebration by all concerned—this being the cook, the guides, the camp manager, usually his wife and other local people.

Some time ago I was asked to speak at a couple of sheep shows in the U.S. relating to hunting in Australia and in Central Asia. I remember suggesting for the first time that overseas hunters should strongly consider Mongolia-especially if Maral hunting was ever to re-open.

To go and stay with local herders and their families in their Gers and see their way of life and feel the genuine hospitality is a truly a heartwarming experience. I have hunted alongside WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

56

57

many local men in the Altai and Gobi mountains and at the end of each hunt I have left with admiration for their ability and keenness to give the hunter both a great experience and a great outcome and it was always a pleasure to be a part of. It’s also a welcome distraction for the herders from their daily life’s routine to have hunters in their world.

The photos I present in this article are of recent hunts in areas that our Mongolian outfitter has had his eyes on for a number of years. Now, with the groundwork done, and paperwork all set with local people in these areas, the work has led to these beautiful bulls.

The Mongolian Altai Maral (cervus canadensis sibirica) is found in the sparse elevated forests or alpine regions of Southern Siberia, Northwestern Mongolia and Northern Xinjiang province of China. They are slightly lighter in colour with some minor skull differences to Maral in Kazakhstan. Their winter coat is a light greyish-brown or yellowish-brown; the head neck, belly and legs a dark brown. Altai Maral may be hunted in Russia, Kazakhstan and Mongolia. The photos in this story don’t really show off the grey colours I’ve seen in Maral compared to their relatives I hunted in the U.S. Over the past 10 years or so I’ve continually monitored the situation with the rejuvenating numbers of Maral. There are now a number of good outfitters in Mongolia, however I just happen to work for and with an exceptional one—my long time friend Ariunbold Anand who owns Natural Inn LLC. He speaks near

HUNTING

WE

ARE

58

perfect English, and in the early days was one of the guides for the government run “Juulchin� hunting company. He is a man who has great respect among the local men he works with to hunt ibex, sheep and now Maral. I spent two seasons as an elk guide in New Mexico some years ago and this only increased my interest in the situation of the Maral in Mongolia.

With good management and some not too harsh winters, the herd numbers in some areas are back to yesteryear. The government now issues some permits for areas that can prove these sustainable numbers. Outfitters can only hunt in allotted areas that local people manage, but in time new areas will open.

Over the past two seasons my outfitter has had hunters in Mongolia for Maral as well as ibex, sheep, roebuck, as seen by the photos in my story. Even though the Mongolian government had previously issued some permits before 2018 they were of little interest to me due to the fact I knew other areas where there were many Maral and much bigger mature trophy bulls.

In September 2018, I took a client with me from New Zealand who was to hunt Maral and Altai ibex. We hunted ibex first. Oh, it was a great first day! He took a lifetime dream of a beautiful ibex.

When his turn came to hunt Maral, we travelled many miles to a Maral area. Stopping overnight in a town along the way and travelling all day to an area that had not seen a hunter for 20 years.

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

60

61

I was also able for once to hunt myself and had a one-off permit to take a bull in the new area my outfitter had his eye on. It is to this day the greatest moment in my hunting life. I too would like to say thanks to the mountain gods for giving up this magnificent trophy on that great day.

To put it simply, there are few places in the world that can compare to the unparalleled experience of hunting in a primitive setting where the main focus and the reason for being there is to hunt, and not merely to kill.

As an Australian professional hunting guide, having worked in many unique places and had the comradery of my times in Mongolia, I’ve learned trophy hunting raises a hunter’s

HUNTING

WE

ARE

62

• Mongolia has a population of just 2.7 million people spread out over an area half the size of Europe.

• Mongolia resides on a high mountainous plateau over 5,000 feet above sea level.

• The Altai, Hangai, Hentii and Hiangan mountain ranges surround the country and shield it from the humid and warm airflows from the Pacific Ocean, resulting in an arid, high desert type environment.

• The Gobi Desert makes up a little less than 1/3 of the country.

• The Gobi is primarily made up of dry, rocky mountains and valleys. It is a unique ecosystem that is home to snow leopards, ibex, wild sheep, goats, wild horses and antelope. There is even the Mazaalai bear that has made its home in the Gobi desert.

WE

What a great time we had in the valleys alive with bugling bulls, satellite bulls roaming and running from area to area and every sound of Maral voice in the theatre that was laid out before us. The hunter took a very nice 6x6 bull to achieve another lifelong dream.

FACT FOCUS

HUNTING

ARE

Upon arrival, we set up camp in an empty tourist camp. It was situated under a very steep rocky pine forest ridge. I mentioned to my hunter as we lay in our sleeping bags: “I have a very good feeling about this place.“ Darkness was only just upon us and, half-awake, I could not quite believe what startled me. Then I heard it again.

I could hear rasping breath as the bull inhaled and let out a very loud challenging bugle that woke up the whole hillside. From that moment on we were in Maral heaven.

63

appreciation for the combination of wild country and great habitat, beautiful people and never to be forgotten experiences. Trophy hunting itself demands patience, skill, restraint, judgement, confidence in your guide and a dash of selfconfidence.

Trophy hunting itself demands patience, skill, restraint, judgement and a dash of self confidence and confidence in your guide. Mongolia gives hunters an opportunity to experience all this and more. Mongolia has become a perpetual tonic for me to return again and again.

So, as we say in Australia, “If you never ever go, you’ll never ever know’.

Chris lives in Australia and started hunting overseas back when Mongolian Maral hunting was at its peak in 1995-96, seeing an immediate need for a western guide who could assist hunters with logistics in these remote locations.

If you would like to enlist Chris to accompany you as a personal travel guide and escort on your hunt, please contact him at: cnsafaris@gmail.com

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

64

65

MEMBERSHIPS & PARTNERS

FIRST MOUNTAIN NYALA

by Peter Flack

1

The undergrowth of the natural forest, on the other hand, is a nightmare. Without a path or wellpatronised game trail to follow, bush bashing is a noisy and painful experience. Every plant seems to be protected by thorns of one form or another and stinging nettles and poison ivy are common. The natural forest provides a refuge for the nyala and bushbuck who, in the early morning hours, move out into the artificial forest to graze and browse before

1. The author glassing for mountain nyala at over 13 000 feet in the Kaka Mountains south east of Addis Ababa during his first, unsuccessful, 28 day mountain nyala hunt. Photo courtesy of Theo Pretorius

WE

The forest covers some 250 square kilometres, spread over a series of hills with names like Kuke, Tuku, Hoje and Betros, at a height of about 9,000 feet, some five hours by car, south-east of Addis Ababa. It is a combination of centuries old natural forest and plantations, or artificial forest, planted with the help of Swedish aid money many years ago. The floor of the artificial forest is a complex matrix of rich humus, fallen forest

giants which have been left to rot, branches, twigs, shrubs and, in places, substantial thickets. It is these thickets which the mountain nyala and Menelik’s bushbuck use as resting places during the day. For the most part, however, it is possible, with care, to move freely and quietly through the artificial forest.

HUNTING

ARE

T

hreadbare clouds scattered by random selection chase the full moon over the western horizon. Ahead through small gaps in the Ethiopian cedar trees, grey smudges lighten the canopy. On the forest floor, it is a touch shy of pitch dark. My eyes are glued to the feet of the man in front as, single file, we pad silently and fast across the fern cushioned floor. I try hard to play follow-my-leader and place my size 11s in his footsteps to avoid the whiplash crack of boot on fallen, brittle branch. We are en route to a steep ravine where a plantation of 35-year-old fir trees meets a portion of natural growth in the Munessa Forest.

69

2. The author standing outside his camp on his first, unsuccessful, 28 day mountain nyala hunt, at 13 400 feet and above the cloud line in the Kaka Mountains south east of Addis Ababa.

2

Now what exactly are mountain nyala or tragelaphus buxtoni? In this regard, I can do no better than to quote from the SCI Record Book of Trophy Animals where they write as follows: “The common name “mountain nyala” is an unfortunate choice, for this animal bears little resemblance to the common nyala of southeastern Africa. At one time called mountain bushbuck, although it appears to be more closely related to the greater kudu. In the Amharic language of Ethiopia its name is yedega-agazen, meaning “highland greater kudu,” while that of the greater kudu is yekola-agazen, or “lowland greater kudu.” The scientific name is in honor of Ivor Buxton, who took the type specimen in the Sahutu Mountains west of the Arussi Plateau in 1908. The mountain nyala was the last (in 1908) living ungulate in Africa to be “discovered” by Westerners, and almost the last anywhere.

The mountain nyala is one of the very top trophies in Africa, ranking with bongo, giant eland and sitatunga. In the dense forests of the Chercher and Din Din mountains, the usual hunting method is by glassing across forested basins, followed by a very long shot (300-450 yards or 275-410 m is normal) or by an attempted stalk to closer range. The altitude is about 9,00010,000 feet (2,700-3,000 m), the terrain is usually steep, with thick cover and poor visibility, and conditions are often cold and wet. Hunting in the high-altitude (12,000-13,000 feet, or 3,600WE

Nassos Roussos, the 56 year old, whippet thin, ascetic President of the Ethiopian Professional Hunters Association and owner of Ethiopian Rift Valley Safaris is my professional hunter. He is the doyen of the small profession in Ethiopia, which consists of a total of four safari outfitters and 15 professional hunters. After two weeks, my initial impression of him is one of unadulterated admiration. He is a professional, Professional Hunter and, in my opinion, is one of the best of the over 30 professional hunters it has been my privilege and pleasure to hunt with. Nassos confirms that the mountain nyala of the forest are slightly different to their up-country cousins. They are bigger, their horns heavier, longer and with thicker bases.

Their skin is greyer, darker and their feeding habits consist of 90 percent

browse and 10 percent graze. From my own experience I can tell that the high mountain nyala cows are definitely browner—a kind of minky brown—and they graze about 90 percent of the time.

HUNTING

ARE

bedding down there at about 09h00. In the late afternoon the process is reversed. The trick is to catch the animals on the move while you are stationary. This is a very different hunt to my previous futile attempt two years previously in the high Ethiopian mountains of Kaka and Kubsa, a day by horse to the southeast of where I am now. There it was easy to spot the animals but the stalk and long shot over the open, windswept, heather covered, steep mountain slopes was the challenge. Here the reverse applies. Shots are seldom over 250 metres. Cover is abundant. Spotting the animal is the problem.

71

3. The view over typical high mountain, mountain nyala terrain.

Photo courtesy of Theo Pretorius

3

My search for all nine of the species has sent me to nine African countries and, since I consciously and actively started to pursue them all, it has taken me over ten years and cost more than I care to calculate. Two years previously I had spent three punishing weeks hunting out of an inadequate fly camp at 13,400 feet in the Kaka Mountains of Ethiopia in freezing cold, sleet, rain, mist and fog. I had been really fit before I left Johannesburg but, even so, I lost seven kilograms on the hunt, during the course of which I saw not one adult male mountain nyala. I had hunted as hard as I knew how and, at the end of the trip, I was dog tired WE

In essence, what a rottweiller is to a doberman pincher, a mountain nyala is to our common nyala (tragelaphus angasi). The mountain nyala is much taller than the common nyala (47 to 53 inches versus 39 to 45 inches at the shoulder) and, at 200 to 250 kilograms, weighs nearly twice as much.

Apart from the fact that they both have spiral horns, they bear little or no resemblance to one another. In fact, if I am not mistaken, the original

specimen that Major Buxton first submitted was originally classified as a kudu. Only later was the name changed to that of mountain nyala. For me, however, the animal has acquired a mysticism and importance that is hard to explain to a non-trophy hunter. The more I hunted this magical beast, the more it bewitched me. Of the nine species of spiral horned antelope – kudu, lesser kudu, eland, giant eland, bushbuck, bongo, sitatunga, nyala and mountain nyala – it was the only one that eluded me.

HUNTING

ARE

4,000 m) heather zone of the Arussi and Bale mountains is like mountain hunting anywhere. There is a great deal of glassing, for the heather is frequently higher than a man’s head and offers innumerable hiding places.

When a shootable bull is spotted, the stalk must be accomplished as quickly as the client – gasping in the thin atmosphere – can manage, for the mountain nyala seldom stays put for long. Two weeks or more must be allotted for this hunt, with success by no means certain.”

73

– both physically and mentally - and wasn’t sure whether I had another mountain nyala hunt left in me.

“THE MOUNTAIN NYALA IS ONE OF As my partner on the hunt, GT, explained to a friend, it had been a THE VERY TOP real adventure but, with hindsight, the word, “enjoyment” did not TROPHIES IN spring readily to mind. At the same time, I would have swopped AFRICA...“

all my other trophies, with the exception of the beautiful bongo I took in the Central African Republic, for one genuine chance at a representative mountain nyala bull. As Maydon wrote in Big Game Shooting in Africa, “I found Mountain nyala as difficult as any of the wary sort of game”. And Mellon in African Hunter admits to hunting this amazing animal for 51 days before getting one. At least I was in good hunting company. But I am getting ahead of myself. I had flown to Addis Ababa from Johannesburg on Saturday 6th November 1999 for my last hunt of the millenium. Despite the early hour, 06h00, Nassos was there to meet me. Lunch at his Greek Club with his wife, Susan and friends, Monday to clear my firearms and attend to paperwork and, on the following morning, we flew to the Omo Valley.

I had a tremendous ten days in the Omo, one of Africa’s most spectacular Rift valleys. Quality Northern Grant’s gazelle, tiang, Guenther’s dik-dik, Beisa oryx, lesser kudu and Abyssinian bushbuck fell to my old Brno .375. All killed cleanly with one shot except for the lesser kudu which I missed three times in a row with my custom made, all weather .300 Winchester Magnum, on the same hillside, at distances of 325, 349 and 281 yards, respectively, before swopping to my .375 for the fourth and, blessedly, final shot. Back to Addis we flew, my tail in the air and half confident, half nervous, that I might have used up all my luck and shooting skills in the Omo. The five-hour drive to the Munessa Forest was uneventful and Nassos piloted his venerable Toyota Land Cruiser with all the skill of the competitive rally driver he once had been. Once we left the tar road we climbed steadily up a deeply rutted, yellow, dirt forest track, the ruts a legacy of the rainy season, which had ended the month before.

WE

4

HUNTING

ARE

4. A magnificent, mature Menelik’s bushbuck ram in all his glory. Photo courtesy of Francois Guillet

After half an hour, we reached the crest of a hill and passed a sawmill before driving through a tiny hamlet bordered by two roughly fenced areas – one full of cabbages, the other of cattle. Our rude track opened into a short, green grass meadow sloping away to the north and surrounded by plantations of Ethiopian cedar trees. In the tree line on the eastern edge of the meadow, a straight line of green Cabela’s igloo tents crouched down in the shade and, as I looked up, two thick-billed Ethiopian ravens glided overhead, one behind the other, making their unique, coarse rasping calls like a thick steel file on hard wood. After a delicious lunch of spaghetti followed by steak, chips and salad, we retired to our spacious, airy tents for a 75

compulsory siesta. As I was to learn, mountain nyala hunting in the Munessa Forests was a very early morning, late afternoon affair. The big bulls bedded down usually by 09h00 - if it was overcast they might bed down a little later than usual. Then, at about 16h00, they started meandering, feeding and wandering around in their nyala-like way back towards the natural forest to sleep.

The idea was to be in position, at a vantage point, before dawn, overlooking a portion of the natural forest, hopefully frequented by nyala, in the hopes of spotting one en route to the artificial forest. After the nyala have bedded down we would walk slowly and quietly through the artificial forest hoping to pick up tracks or spot one of the stunningly handsome, black or Menelik’s bushbuck, also endemic to Ethiopia and which I also really wanted. If we found tracks, we would follow them but not too far, not wanting to spook the bedded buck and, in the afternoon, we would glass the area indicated by the tracks.

We hunted in three teams, our main one consisting of nine men, which we would deploy over a wide area to our left and right when glassing and two other two man teams further away, one of whom was in contact by radio, the other by runner. To make matters a little more tricky, as if mountain nyala were not tricky enough, it was now full moon. This allowed the animals to feed at night and further shortened their morning and evening appearances – much like a famous film star making a guest appearance in a soap opera or like a lighthouse – now you see it, now you don’t. On my second morning, in the grey, ice cold dawn, the nine of us clambered stiffly from the Mazda double-cab as it stopped on the forestry track leading along the edge of a tortuous hill, with tree bedecked slopes falling steeply away on either side to stream fed ravines. In both cases, the streams marked the end of the artificial and the beginning of the natural forests.

As I focused on putting my well-worn, waterproof, Crispi, Italian hiking boots in the spots newly vacated by Nassos’ shoes, he turned and reminded me not to grab hold of the poison ivy which grew in profusion in both forests. I was soon to learn that hunting for mountain nyala in the high mountains and the forests had at least one thing in common – when you were not pounding your knees on a steep downward slope, you were climbing, thigh burning, lung busting, 45 degrees plus slopes. Climbing like this, while trying not to tread on any pistolcracking twigs and branches, puts a real strain on ankle, calf, knee and thigh - not to mention heart and lungs.

WE

5

HUNTING

ARE

5. A large, heavily horned mountain nyala bull and mature female. Photo courtesy of Francois Guillet

As we eased our way downwards, dawn poked pale fingers of sunlight through the overhead canopy. The haunting, tentative twitters of birds waking provided the background 77

6. Nassos Roussos as a young man and the world record mountain nyala he shot at close range as it walked up a ravine alongside which he was travelling. Kindly note the open sighted, full-stock rifle he used. Nassos, his son, Jason and their clients, hold a large number of Ethiopian world records for game in the country.

6

7

7. The author and the excellent lesser kudu bull shot by him with his fourth shot in the Omo Valley with Nassos Roussos immediately prior to his mountain nyala hunt as referred to in the article. Photo courtesy of the Author 8. A classically beautiful, big, mature Menelik’s bushbuck ram. Photo courtesy of Jason Roussos

8

9

9. The author, exhausted and soaked with perspiration on the edge of the forest, after returning from his first encounter with the magical and mysterious mountain nyalas of the Munessa Forest as referred to in the article.

Photo courtesy of the Author 10. The author and his second mountain nyala, also hunted with Nassos Roussos, but this time on Otmenna Mountain. Photo courtesy of the Author 11. The author and Nassos Roussos relaxing with a cold beer at their fly camp in the high mountains after a successful hunt.

WE

11

HUNTING

ARE

10

79

accompaniment to the poignant, clear, bell-like pipes of a fiscal shrike. The leader of a troop of overhead colobus monkeys overhead interrupted rudely with his “Hurr hurr hurr hurrrrr” rising louder and louder. Other troops further and further away imitated his territorial display. As I stopped to listen, I could hear the half sniff, half rapid inhalation of air as he girded his loins for a repeat performance “Hurr hurr hurr hurrrrr!”

“...I FELT, AT THE TIME, AS IF THIS HUNT WAS ALMOST THE DEFINING MOMENT OF MY HUNTING There was a tangible tension in my chest. I felt alive, really alive. LIFE.“

All my senses were on full alert. This was what I had come all the way for. Ridiculous and melodramatic as it now sounds, I felt, at the time, as if this hunt was almost the defining moment of my hunting life. For the last year, there had not been a week when I had not thought of this moment. It had suffused my life. Running and cycling every second day, daily Canadian Air Force exercises, regular practice on the rifle range, reading everything I could lay my hands on about Ethiopia, mountain nyala and hunting this magical, mystical animal. The preparation was over. Now, all I needed was the opportunity.

As we walked slowly up along the side of the opposite hill, through the knee high shrubs and plants, with the ravine and the natural forest to our left, Linchamo, our Arussi tracker, bent over at the waist and slowly extended the hand clutching his machete. Following the line indicated, I saw a charcoal smudge in the green. It looked like a gap in the foliage but, through my 7x42 Leica Geovids, the head of a proud Menelik’s bushbuck ram materialized through the gloom. “Thirteen and a half” whispered Nassos. “Do you want him?” “What do you think?” I questioned. “I think we can do better” was the succinct reply. Down periscope. At ease. As usual, Nassos was right. The next morning, slogging our way out of the depths of a deep ravine, I heard the excited, stage-whispered Amharic of Milkesso, our other Arussi tracker.

He had seen something with his x-ray vision. At that precise moment, my chest was heaving and sweat was pouring down my face and under my arms as if I had sprung a leak. My pants were damp, my shirt sodden and my hunting cap was soaked through, including the peak.

As I lifted my binoculars to my eyes the lenses fogged over. I knew by the hoarse, whispered words of “duculla lig, duculla lig” that the indistinct, charcoal black blob, camouflaged by a lattice work of similar coloured screening twigs some 160 paces away, had to be a very big Menelik’s bushbuck ram.

Named for the then Emperor of Ethiopia, (and the man responsible for uniting the diverse peoples of Ethiopia, such as the Oromo, Tigrayan, Amhara, Somali and Afar as well as all the various southern tribes), this is, in my opinion, one of the most beautiful of all bushbuck.

WE

ARE

HUNTING

81

12. A very big, mature, classic, high mountain mountain nyala bull. Photo courtesy of Håkan Pohlstrand

Menelik II, by the way, was the first African “THERE WAS A TANGIBLE leader to conquer a European army in pitched TENSION IN MY CHEST. battle. Poor old Count Baratieri was destroyed

by Menelik at the Battle of Adua, in 1882, along I FELT ALIVE, REALLY ALIVE. ALL MY SENSES WERE with about 7,000 Italians. Just like General ON FULL ALERT.” Chelmsford at the Battle of Isandhlwana, in a fit of over confidence, he had divided his force into three before ascertaining the strength of the enemy. Like the British, the Italians were routed.

At birth, Menelik’s or Arussi or black bushbucks as they are also known, are tan. As they grow older they become darker, almost black, until as old rams they turn a dark charcoal over most of their body. They have no stripes or spots but retain, in their colouration, vestiges of all three growth phases. They have tan on their face, black on their throat and a long, lustrous, dark charcoal coat. Of all the other species of bushbuck, they resemble the Cape bushbuck most closely. I really wanted one to go with the six sub-species of this clan of amazingly elusive, tough, proud, aggressive little animals that I have been fortunate enough to hunt successfully over the years (Cape, Limpopo, Chobe, Masai, Harnessed and Abyssinian).Depending on how you classify bushbuck, there are between seven and eight sub-species – Abyssinian, Arussi or Menelik’s, Chobe, Harnessed, Masai, Nile, Shoan and South African according to Rowland Ward. SCI, in my opinion, correctly eliminates Shoan as it is indistinguishable from Abyssinian but then undoes the good work by splitting South African bushbuck into Cape and Limpopo sub-species and differentiates East African bushbuck from Masai bushbuck. On either system of classification I still need two sub-species to complete the collection – either Nile and Shoan or Nile and East African.

As I eased up against a tree to my right, I immediately mounted my rifle and, with salt laden sweat stinging my eyes, picked up the ram in the crosshairs of my 1.5 x 6 Zeiss Diavari low light scope. As I realised that a tree trunk was covering a part of the head, neck and front right leg of the little animal, I heard Nassos say “O.K.” He never says “shoot,” let alone the excited, even semi-hysterical “shoot, shoot, shoot” of some professional hunters and their tracking teams. No, only a quiet but firm “O.K.” Six seconds later, according to Mr. Roussos, the 300 grain Nosler partition loaded by Federal punched through the ribs of the buck, on through the right lung, cutting the arteries above the heart and exiting via the left shoulder. As the little buck dashed in its death throes through the thick brush, clearing a four-foot high fallen fir tree, I died a thousand deaths. Had I pulled the shot too far to the left? Had I wounded this wonderful, little beast? As I struggled up hill in the wake of Milkesso and Nassos, I shouted out my concern, “Is he down, is he dead?” Eventually Nassos relented and, turning to me, in a

HUNTING

WE

ARE

12

83

13

WE

If only I could go on to find a mountain nyala to match the Menelik’s. The heats have been run off. We’re in the final. Nothing else matters. We have ten full days for the job at hand. I feel apprehensive and excited in almost equal measures. I am looking forward to the challenge and, this time, feel that I have given myself the best possible opportunity to succeed.

And not without good reason. On the same morning that I saw my first adult male Menelik’s bushbuck, I saw my first two mature mountain nyala

bulls. It happened like this. I was busy drinking 13. Our hunting team and in every detail of a dainty female mountain nyala their children, all family of through my binoculars. She was clearly pregnant the old man in blue in the and glowing with good health. Her gunmetal grey skin (not minky brown like the mountain variety) middle of the photo, which was sleek and gleaming. White dots were sprinkled may help to explain why in a crescent moon from the bottom of her ribs up Ethiopia is one of the most across her rump. Her lower legs were dark, almost densely populated countries black, and dramatically offset by two white stripes in Africa. Photo Courtesy of on her inner front legs, a white half moon across her the Author chest, a white flash under her chin and the classic chevron across her nose. In a word, she was simply beautiful. A piercing whistle from the bottom of the hill breaks my reverie. “They have seen something,” Nassos hurls over his shoulder, talking about the second spotting team located in another ravine.

HUNTING

ARE

typical Italian-like gesture, he shrugged his shoulders, spread both his arms wide, palms up and open and asked “If he is not dead, why is he lying on his back with his legs in the air?” I was thrilled. He was perfect. Fantastic, 14½-inch lyre shaped horns with six-inch bases, incredible unblemished coat, battle-scarred head, neck and ears, teeth well worn down, old – the perfect trophy. He will make the top ten of both Rowland Ward and SCI.

85

“IT SEEMED

Down hill we thunder – trackers, spotters, hunters and game TO TAKE AN scouts – all nine of us. Nine, I know, a bit much you may think but that’s how its done. Heart hammering in my chest I battle to keep ETERNITY TO up. Could this be it? On my first morning? Excited thoughts REACH THEM“ bubble through my brain. “Take care on the shot. While Nassos is judging the horns look for a rest. The hunt could be over before it’s begun. Don’t count your chickens”. Soon these thoughts are driven from my head by the sheer difficulty of breathing as we climb the 55 degree hill separating us from the second team. My lungs cannot inhale air fast enough. My thighs ache. Tendons tear at knees and ankles. I am falling behind. Our guide is frantic. Two big ones, both shootable, I hear mentioned.

My feet stumble and hook. We reach the crest and then half jog, half walk, half slip (too many halves) down the steep, fern slick slope to the river at the foot of the ravine. And then back up the opposite side. Balance on a log to cross a depression. Duck under a low branch.

Rifle hooks. Bipod pulls out and clatters shut. Another low branch. Knees refuse to bend, then bend and, under great protest, push me upright again. I slip on the grass covered slope.

Grab at a bush to save myself, my rifle scope. Stinging nettles sting. Up, up, up and up some more. I slump down next to Nassos who, glasses glued to his eyes, is following the direction of Milkessos’ outstretched arm. I follow suit. My binos fog up. Just before they become completely opaque I measure the distance to a tree on the opposite slope – 147 yards. I can’t talk. Perspiration pours off me. I suck in great gulps of cold air. Gradually my pulse slows to a disco beat. I wipe away the river running into my eyes. Nassos eventually acknowledges my presence. “Two bulls” he announces calmly “27 and 28 – you no shoot. Too small. The bigger one, maybe 35, he’s gone. These other two, they follow in his tracks”.

At last I can gaze my fill at their majesties. Kings of the Ethiopian highlands. The magnificent, magical, mystical mountain nyala. In silence, as my heart lurches with the realisation, my eyes inhale these my first, real, live adult males of the species. I can’t get enough of them. They are permanently engraved on the hard drive in my head. They are everything I have hoped for and imagined and more. The few pictures that I have seen of them thus far do them an injustice. They are bigger, broader and their horns are heavier than I had envisaged. They are, in a word, imposing. I want to shoot the larger of the two so badly but Nassos is having none of it. We watch them nibble here, bite there, chew and swallow. They glide through the thick mess of shrub, bush, tree, vine, creeper and grass with a liquid grace and quiet ease that makes a mockery of my bumbling, stumbling, helter, skelter bull-in-the-china-shop charge.

I crane my neck as they move silently from sight into the riverbed below. “Just enjoy the WE

ARE

HUNTING

87

“TRULY, TROPHY HUNTERS ARE BORN OPTIMISTS“

moment,” says Nassos, with all the wisdom and experience of his 56 years. I do.

As if to mock our excellent start, the hunting gods turn their backs on us. We are either too late or too early. We either don’t follow the tracks hard enough or we follow too hard and spook the beast. Wherever we are, they aren’t. And so it goes. Up at dawn, back for lunch, out at three, back at dark. We go from bad to worse.

Yesterday was, to use Nassos’ word, “a fiasco”. It is the day that one of the six game guards that Nassos employs year round to prevent poaching, in his over-eagerness, tracks a monster mountain nyala bull into his thicket refuge and spooks him so badly that he emigrates. We have been slowly homing in on this bull and learning his habits for the past two days. But for this, we would now have had him pinned down in the artificial forest between two ravines. To add insult to injury, his flight takes him within 100 meters of where we had planned to wait for him. Our three main trackers are visibly upset at the game guard. He is banished and told to stay in the vicinity of his home and not move unless called.

15

14. The author’s tented camp at about 9 000 feet in the Munessa Forest, south east of Addis Ababa. Photo courtesy of the Author 15. The huge, old Menelik’s bushbuck ram as described in the article.

Note all the colour variations present in the ram. Photo courtesy of the Author HUNTING

WE

ARE

Only trophy hunters who have ridden this particular roller coaster will have experienced the emotions that chased their way through my weary head as I sat around the fire that night in my sweat soaked clothing, a nasty, thin, little mountain breeze chilling the back of my neck. At times like this I wonder why I do this to myself. Fortunately, having been through this precise state many times before, I also know that it is absolutely no use sulking, or wallowing in a sea of debilitating recriminations. There is nothing for it but to gird up your loins and work and work and work some more. All tough hunts have their difficult and despondent times. This was just another one of those. To be endured and put behind me. As I step out of my tent the next morning, I imagine that a miniscule sliver is missing from the full moon as I watch a thin veil of clouds scud across its unstoppable passage to the west. Maybe my luck will improve as the moon wanes and the nyala feed less at night and more in the daytime. The air is crisper this morning and I am glad for my thigh length Barbour jacket and leather gloves. I feel a sense of anticipation that is almost tangible in my chest. I am like a kid waking on the morning of his birthday. Truly, trophy

14

89

hunters are born optimists. I was in bed by 20:30 last night. Worn out. I fell asleep as my bald head hit the pillow and, apart from a few interruptions, when a hyena whooped and a bushbuck ram barked loudly and repeatedly behind my tent, I slept soundly until just before 04:00. I was well rested. My body felt good. I was ready. Fifteen minutes later, after a breakfast of tea, toast and marmite, we are off to try a brand new ravine.

16. The author’s first mountain nyala as referred to in the article shot on his second mountain nyala hunt. All told, it took 33 days of dawn to dusk hunting to secure this much prized member of the nine spiral horn species.

17. The author posing with Nassos Roussos and the excellent Menelik’s bushbuck referred to in the article.

Photo courtesy of the Author

It seemed to take an eternity to reach them. I peered around the shrub behind which they huddled. The big bull leapt out at me some 200 metres away on the opposite side of the ravine. I pulled my head back slowly. “He’s 30,” said Nassos succinctly. “Look through the glasses,” he said handing me his 25-year-old 10 x 40 Zeiss binoculars. The bull leapt into focus looking straight at me, head up, horns angled backward over his broad flanks. His body was much bigger than the other two bulls, his horns much thicker. He looked awesome and in complete control of the situation. “You like him?” questioned Nassos. “I like him very much,” I replied “but I can’t shoot him from here. There’s no rest and he’s too far”.

WE

17

HUNTING

ARE

16

No one had been there in over 11 years. The excuse for a game path petered out. Then it was bush bash, claw, slip, fall, stand, untangle and bush bash again until we ground to a halt. I sat surrounded by shades of brown and green as the noise of our passage faded and was lost in a gabbling riverlet as it busily flowed across flat, grey slabs of rock on the ravine floor. Above my head, a colobus monkey bustled about, in and out of sight, at the top of a no-name brand tree. Across the ravine and to the right, an immature, all but white, crowned eagle watched the stunning pitch black and pure white ape’s antics from a tall tree, his head cocked to one side. There was a palpable presence in the air. I was taken by surprise, therefore, when, after barely 15 minutes, Nassos and Milkesso rose to their feet. “We go higher,” explained Nassos. And higher we went. I nearly fell three times battling the steep, slick sided slope although, in the end, it was Nassos who over balanced and fell off the moss and grass covered tree trunk bridging a mini ravine and into the poison ivy below. We punched our way forward for a further 50 paces.

A creeper held my rifle in a half-Nelson. A thorn-clad tendril snatched my hunting cap off my head and lashed my cheek. “Na, na” hissed Milkesso, while Nasso urgently flicked his hand at me.

91

As I looked back the bull had “ALL MY SENSES ARE started feeding. “He’s nerrwoes RIVETED ON THE (nervous)” said Nassos in his unique accent, “see how he eats”. PATCH OF NATURAL With that, the bull slid sideways FOREST TO MY FRONT.” and was swallowed up by the thick riverine cover. “We must move forward to cover our side of the bank,” Nassos announced, at the same time detailing two game guards to move back the way we had come to cut off any retreat by the nyala up our side of the ravine. We ease forward and after about 40 paces, miraculously find a bare, parking place size patch of flat earth to the right of which I spot a moss bedecked fallen piece of forest giant. I slide in behind the log and ease my .375 into readiness. Diagonally opposite me, a slim, clean, pale, dove grey trunk slides smoothly into the green over-head canopy.

At its foot I notice a well-worn game track. “He’s going to come through there,” I point out to Nassos who has moved in behind me. How I know I cannot tell. I just know. He ignores me and says nothing. I am sure he thinks I have lost the plot. I measure the distance to the tree – 128 yards.

We wait. Nassos, Milkesso, Lisanu and me. We wait some more. All the background noise has been tuned out by my concentration. I am unaware of any sound. All my senses are riveted on the patch of natural forest to my front.

As I scribble these notes, some nine and a half hours have passed. Nine and a half hours since I fulfilled a dream I had never imagined possible. With each passing hour, as the realization sets in, I feel a lightness, a sense of freedom, almost as if I’m flying. My chest feels big inside.

I have a quiet but very real sense of peace and achievement. In these quiet moments, I thank my Maker for all the gifts he has given me, for all the blessings I have received and for this most marvelous mountain nyala.

For more about Peter Flack, his books, DVDs, articles and blog see: www.peterflack.co.za

INTRODUCING Hunting the African Buffalo, the complete buffalo book.

PETER FLACK

PRODUCTIONS

HUNTING THE

Page

1

D BY

PETER

FLACK

PETER

FLACK

phies Flack

“The Littl and amb e Big itiou Buck is Pete r Diek s book proof of is not Peter’s mann, only Reda “Dec reco persisten kteur, isive Deutsche mmended t and trem the kind ly the auth but is Jagdz endo of orita Phill eitung a us love tive ip Hay work that & Jagen must for es, Prof deserveswork on everyoneof Africa Weltw the eit essio “The who and its gam nal Huna place in species, third is inter book preh ter and every bookit is a mus ested e. This com ensive in the t buy, in hunt Editor, shel little preh keep ing bush ensive big buckwork than series cove Magnum f.” ing the Koos the exce ring .” buck reader Barn .’’ llent the hunt ard, on a ing Editor, Kudu steep “Yet anot and Elanof Africa’s SA Hun learn ing curv her ter d book spiral horn hunt er as outstand e. It is s. I high ed this Neels ing ly reco antelope Geld book will book from is mme enhu nd this a gem. It ys, Edit contribu Peter in “Peter te posi his richly is an even or, serie African tivel illustrate of time Flack, has mor Outfitter y to your s on Hun done d book e comLyne .” å expe ting the it agai on the tte van rienc Spira n! This e in hunt l Horn Hoven, compreh ing the s. This Prod ensively uctio Bush is a mus n Edit buck t read research or, Gam .” for the ed and e & Hun serio beau us t/Wild tifully & Jag presente d book will stan d the test

Hunti

ng th

BUSHe Spiral Horns B The L ittle B UCK • ig Bu ck

•

EDITED

BY P ETER FLACK

I SB

PETE FL AC R K

Nature’s Debt Collector – The Six Subspecies

UCTIO

NS

9 7 80

N 978-0 -62060003 -3

620

600

FLACK

026

Peter

eter Flack ness is out of man by a lawyer by profe conv the time iction ssion training, rhebuck, he shot and a pass , a conservata busiat the his first ionate ionis ified hunt age of as game er fromt U.S.A an attor ney nine. As a animal, a . lawye large and beca in both grey st r, me a Sout h Afric he qualas CEO law firms partn . er a ing compof one As a busin in one and the of anies the world essman, of Africa’s coun with tries ’s large he retire of othe and acted operation st gold d comp r listed mini as a non- s in nine minanies ng, indu executive African .

He is stria a trust mem l and director ee ber finan a foun of the of WWF Sout cial Enda ngered hern Afric tion. ding mem ber He organizat is also of the Wildlife a, a life Peac Trust a ions Field such life mem e Parks Foun and ber ECGMASportsme as Rowl dan, Dalla and Wardof hunt and Cons the KwaZ s Safa ’s Guild ing ervat ri He has ion Asso ulu-N of atal Club, SCI, ciatio been ting Hunt n. a comp ing and managed any sharehold for the fami 12 years er in a safar on the i outfi ly game and, Eastern eastern edge ranch for 20 yearstwas here Cape, befo of the , Grea Bankfonte , re that, duct in, ed his every its sale fourt Karoo, firstweek year, free years in the time -long of ago.

Hunt hunters.

It hunt charge, he ing has ing has been cour conbeen ses his on Afric for an coun literally guiding nine pass hund ion and of the tries wher reds land of he Ward game spec e he has safaris in were ’s hunt avail Records ies recognize ed all 17 able publ ished on licenof Big Gam d by but ited e and Rowand four book se. He whic publ score h ished s on hunt has written s a furth ing, writt Less of maga and ons for Life,zine artic er five and en, edCars tens, writt les. A book writt is maga zine, currently en together , Hunt en ing In 2003 African bein with he was Outfitter. g serialized Derek Sout h in the lifeti Africa’s top given the me achie hunt Musg field, rave veme ing awar both Awar d, for in and nts in d, out of the Afric a perso the bush an hunt n’s ing .

PETER

187

Flack P

D BY

992

PEtEr

PROD

D

ROWLAN WARD

80 9 7

d by

EDITE

FLACK

D

ROWLAN WARD

6 0-22187 0-99 978-

EditE

CK

PETER

I S BN

n

SHBU

FLACK ETER

BY P

BY

W

D BY

EDITE

Hunti

BON g the Spiral H or n GO & The E NYA s lite A LA• frican Tro

•

EDITED

EDITED

I

E

ND

DU

T

Dnt An’sN lepha EvL a E er ym

•

•

l Horn s BU

EDITE

•

ns K U

P

Dn AU pe ntelo KU ica p Afr

o The T

Hor Spiral

A

pir

W

r ns

the Sp ira

“T

•

the S

rns al Ho

al Ho

See our full line of DVDs on the website

Hunt ing

ng Hunti

A

g the Huntin

033

PET FLA ER CK CTIONS

PRODU

Edited by PETER FLACK

ORDER NOW from our website

www.peterflackproductions.com

WE Peter Flack Productions Gametrails horizontal half page advert 2018 May.indd 1

W

ritten by some and amat of the ject of eur top profe defin this book African ssion itive hunt work has been ers, the al bush buck on hunt to obsubs Shoa ing produce pecie n the s avail nine able and Som on licen ali bush able of the 11 histo ce and buck on licence rical are not purp – ber are oses of some experienc only. To referred avail25 in this end, to for ed chap a num ters all – have bushbuck to the contr Who ’s ibute hunters – clude Who of book. They d bran bush read d new buck Cowi such icon like e, hunt the ing Rann Kai-Uwe s as Irvin , Barn and inmaak Tony Tomk Denker, Brian hart, Don , to inso Hern Apar name but n and e, Coen a few. them t from in raad Jeff depth selve Vers, hunt resea these there are rch on Cartr idges incredible chapters bushbuck on Dang erou for Bush animals, “How To” s Enco buck Ram Rifle s, in Thick s and unte Equi Driven pme Cove Hunt rs, Hunt r, and failu nt. Excit s and ing ing Cloth Super res in cious ing the huntaccounts and aggre of succ and inclu ded as ssive for the most esses from of pugn hunt well as furththe spira ers of man, er lesso l horns aCorn are Vaug walli yeste han Kirby s Harr ryear suchns sourced The book as Chap , Lyell is, Gord ing is comp , Percival on Cumming and othe leme contr photogra , nted phs ibuto by outs rs. rs as ateu prov r phot well as profeided by tandAltog ogra ethe ssion 450 colo r, this phers al and the amur phot 384 page and white frien book ogra ones phs and hosts ds.

In brief .

33 blacksome , after know read as and ing this a book much as book big buckabout huntit is poss ible to you will ing but thos – the smal bushbuck learn from e lest hum an notcwith by far of the – the little spira hes on and This l horn , away is their the cove the mosts third dagg ring er-lik the hunt in the spira l five booke horns. if animhorn fami ing of all ly, serie s Ward als recog some 30 members nized of and anim acco SCI recor by both als in the unt. It total d the any colle will make books are Rowland , ction a welc only taken prov of but also ide a wort hunting ome addi into tion book top qual hwhi seas le refer s and to ons not say abou to come ity entertain ence source . To men t the cove book see what t for man r. , pleas e cons the expe y ult the rts back

For more information please contact rowan@peterflackproductions.com +1 717 592 8999

HUNTING

ARE

P

PM

e Spir

profesthe top African e of teur k has by som ritten and ama this boo on of work sional object nitive sub, the the defi ies and of spec number hunters produce kudu to ,a conbeen the six this end – have hunting and, to 16 in all ters to the ies some chap ’s Who of spec new rts – Who d icons the expe ted bran like de such Robin tribu They read e, inclu and book. hunting andr, Brian Hern Mellon few. kudu ony Dye l, James but a kudu as AnthAlain Lefo to name on w on, research on “Ho Hurt, kins epth ters Tom als, RiTony from in-d e are chap and le anim Apart es, ther incredib Clothing sucselv of them t these ion, and unts To” hun Ammunit ting acco hunt for the ded fles and ent. Excires in the are inclufrom Equipmand failu r bulls sourced us, cesses inch supelessons as Selo rs.

60 er such othe plus as furth eryear stick and outwell yest as of d by by Cap hunters Percival, plemente ided prov as procom Swayne,book is aphs well ds.

The photogr tors as frien s and contribu standing aphers book host k of the some l photogr292 page 16 blac and iona s fess er, this tograph you Altogeth ur pho book to this ible 396 colo e ones.

– readingit is poss whit r and f, afte h as ting kuduthe t hun In brie as muc of k abou ghost lope. will know a boo t, grey ante s from an glean ious, greatop Afric book serie of the glor bush, the in a five members als an Afric is the first ting of all 27 anim This the hun ily, some by both fam ring gnized books cove al horn a als reco record the spirl, if anim d and SCI will make of It in tota land War ction unt. acco any colle ide a the Row n into to prov are take addition not onlyce but also and y seasour welcome books rence t for man rts hunting ile refe men t the expe rtain worthwh ity ente see wha consult the To se top qual come. k, plea to sons ut the boo abo say r. cove back

s EL A Horn Spiral

taxoects, al asp tion with 2013 and historic informa out 1 past cal _Lay mixing ND final rtfully and biologi hunters tongue-inet ELA own ic has nom well-kn inimitable,er Flack Dustjack by own ling, Pet of informa stories t, in his ytel rce ail and presen style of storluable souion to det mise cheek d an inva rk dedicat raphs pro ther compile tradema nt photog ome ano bec His elle tion. y exc Book will the man Eland Classic.

Internathe t tha ation Hunting ba, CIC African d Damm African Inda life Conserv , Wild har hief and Ger e and 1 in-c Gam w varied ch PM Page Editor- ncil for 2:58 you kno Cou 07/02 k of very it is mu reckon thought tional t 1 2012/ if you ing boo I think the Eland. ishly Layou final_ I fool bled. This again al interest content. kudu hink ut kudu. equajacket hunting d anim . truly n hum tive Dustk on lly all abohave bee to my inad gran of C.J.P terfu s I informajust a boo g this ds and my eye and mastreasure most than shippin the wor I did is a useful opened lly written more book wor its pages one of the This work , book a ca. busiBeautifuthis new rmation techIt is g, a nist te from affair" with s of Afri library cies. info tested nin ed, quo So e trai mal mbl atio tes. or, to , a "lov asse of valuable and mam lves of the at yer by conserv tried anecdo look a ter from trove nis a law Ionides of the rare the she e. tips, resting agai k's ion, on ate hunal, a grey Flack r Flac s hom hunting and inte never profess elusive uld be a passion willeter s. Pete es hunter’ sho n by anim a qualniqu so that I become e eye sma and book ry African game yer, he and k on d to ion Path the samnes much law e worhis first with destine in eve e Denker Hunter’s convictsho t . As a th Africa of kudu effort isout of definitiv The nine he s." the elope of of Kai-Uw of Along h Sou stance in one age or latest This is tim the in bot partner sman, he ent ante , atonthe – auth oric sub rence Author classic.magnific rney uckerts atto ea ines k of histinal refe gold rheb i” Robas an these by a becam s. As a bus largest a boo e busi“Doctarified his is future sem , written nce ing, a tionfirm .A. and u! With world’s ons in ninve train Kevin ct Shot a kudlaw rest der-of the er by conserva te and the U.S thei species of experie iwon The Perfe one t is a lawyssion, a passiona e love larg and of operatinon-executi moswith on the decades hide are test Africa’s CEOthe ies hunters eter Flack by profe n and a first gam . ial and work gray as a . In and Africa reds ashe is panlope whose “African e stripes, acted industr nessmanconvictio he shot his of nine a reti man wilds of knowledge e and age horning com usu- mining, of an antees a, time his whit alling min l, prim at the Afric ntriu is liste a life ist out from the all Africcou uck, tersd hern life in the to histoskil my eyeof the our ter kud erhun er rheb ful spir able of can Africa, for hunt rgrey of WWF Sout red Wild e ny and asa one Afri grea oflistoth singlenists of Peac al, a mo ies. al F Southern e Trust and recogniz Africa thethe wish for pan old vete anim a trustee the Endange of the elusive by re of atio nber ication y's , of ctorand ber hed r WW serv just as ded l com He is ber of Wildlif ks Fou toda the top dire not awaconearc an anim mem a life mem, inof is ri... he's am ncia for u thei , -res Par I tee g angered ding ter/ orfina the kud ce well ana, hunwell ally at r first safa life mem a foun He is also nizations a trus chin is the Pea do, love Pires Field n. and huntinglderofkudu, call Afric equally He is still sear the End kudu of datio Trust ing orgaGuild of MA on thei ding me, wees.all ras Havoc we and less tim ber of The st Foun of hunt inclu return to,ber of ’s ECG greater of ber atur , e -written whom, as lino Ser Winds of Erne d’s Guiliter Parks ter. cies ans, ber Ward , SCI, ys mem. The ng mem of Conax life mem War well num Ade theb, SCI Club and of The the Hun y ofClu of a a...aand n ofland one, ters... all t all spe Kalahari; Rowlands Safari we alwa ster bull also the climisAfric ting fou,ndi and bod a nds ari we have mon lege HorRowre rich Author bestet to hun na's as cluding n, Dalla /Natal Hun Saf . Heof rk's tingtest hun that Valley; i outof dation ablyunaing tsme en Hillserts Rua such the Dal entilas st. NowHun Zulu Botswa ngwa , the prob Spor fort a safar 20 a's grea atal n Gho ion yet, inen, in read the stuff ay's Gre ofizat Rob This for the Kwa ciation. der in e Afric s Lua Gray and ingw fitand and, Zulu-N Asso sharehol ters.'ve bee ired Cap e of h, gan l. Spo And rtsm a's Hem l tragedy tion Kwa a ri out years u hun ome reqund: e ranc Zambia' Selous eroon’s by som. d rely to Afric utifu serva theters been rs, for 12 ly gam of the a safa tion ia’s an kud to bec of Ela e's in Fiel d the fina e bea Cam more20 yea He has pany er inand for mor oted enti MA andchap , of Afric k is going s to come.“ngston in Tanzan Derby in land War Associa oldhant the fami ern edge , before g com even , Who dev ECGincluding Livi 's tein fittin managed the east boo ation a shareh year Cape every Lord with Row ence of on's thehas kfon s, Eleprs and Ban Who volumeFlack, and ealing for many yea ess e, Conserv beenSafari Rifle years, ein, on the Easternhere that, week Patters t of all, app ch,the ally in the r r, caus Flack, font ranlike hasor of y for 12 k read d the He has Pete icula des Bank Karoo, in ago. It was ucted his ers.

He auth . It Karoo, tionist Peter capture nced it. part game veGre har atvisu pan u.” and ago in t boo , ania ily erva t hunt ah. rs cond ton, kud gentle com Grea two years ons llen fam yea rvecon time ensi ion in Tanz huneters ge, he savann tions, has I've experiek on the exce Boddingting e of thekuduthre d the he hunter-c its sale of char ses for first- ing pass of com e Rese edgpreh agethis Craig free reds Gamrge, its sale ofs cha tern, eralre, and manto first- s for the Publicahunting as zing boo nd. his guid year, ing cour -wri eastten forago ributors the Selou nist gen hunt has been literally hunde he has Ela well d befo free ama in The cont rses , r, e, a, long ting the on hunters elan ed an wher ies yea on cou c prot tation.“ "The s why this Cap t of ry Afric spec Hun has been countries game, t, eve Hear game ds of Big huntingauthenti le repu and produc plains Eastern Wild an explainspiral horn he and sion Fires idab of the of e tha k-long and 15 Afric t of orher -8 paseen for all Tworis in is in but nine Ward’s Recor license. weet credible his form gian was edit 424-8 niing n PH on safar his s us, -9814 e Betw mos. stNDdefi book Bald ed all by Rowland available of safa all 978-0 cement guidandds OWLA Jeff Ran us Gam ducted Rmo hunt Rolf d tedI S B N of theters er n his ARD hunting were ished threeer, Tales of is the Wut onee hunwill furth bee Dianya Files hundre has hun recognize which of rDangero this rall Flack, timk thatting hasof The and zed by and publ n Hunt Icons he ten abo is an ove ir Game written of an Africa Hunting er doubt, a boo Hun , authnoron lite where "Peter recogni which rt Hunt uced es ithout k yet writ cies ... it and the t He has ing (Hea Africa and (African stick bee cies prod e and and in written boo spe re Cap he has can countrigame spe ting Gam tha on hunty Hunter er three e II) and tive le eland ons a Clai furth d hun span written furFion s of Big 488 a Troph edited a Safari Guid publicati a. A 15 Afri e of the nob e of elan al time 442 for ), Record . He has, edited a -80981 Africa i Guide and articles and Afric ther Africa’sr de forc historic them. but nin Ward’s license e arti 9 7 II, Safar of magazine Europewritten togeg seon huntingmagazin all tou over the pursuit of Rowland ilable AND ks on ten toof scores h America,ns for Life, ntly bein in OWL ava logy boo writ res R n g tter. eco ca were ed four in Nort ing Lesso , is curre n Outfi d, ten scoWARDfor Life, ly bein has bee , Hunt Carstens Rifle Afri e Awar , Africa man Thomas book k publish r and writ ting Lessons is current fitter. azine Musgrav is not Dere Sporting in s, fou k, Hun with the maggiven the award. It tions Out r tor, Kev rd, in sten the Edi ed African ve Awa rializ ek Car he was hunting qualifica be A boo PH and cles. with Der magazine, Musgra n for the In 2006 a’s top and the can only is It h Afric year and ted.

Sout gether ed in the given the rd, give African each ied forvements adjudica ded awa awar in the h. gently ot be appl achie out serializ 3 he was hunting bus are strin , cann on’s lifetimeboth in and ments In 200 ca’s top , once pers achieve out of the won Afri ing field for the South ’s lifetime h in and given African hunt in the bush. person field, bot of the hunting 3 2:26

/06/0

H

g th untin

AFRICAN BUFFALO

al fession top pro , the obe of the hunters the duce can by som ritten teur Afri n to pro the five has bee four of nce. The and ama book hunting this on lice t eland, on ject of ve work available gian ilable tern definitisubspecies the Wes is not ava um, t circ eland species ered and curren To this sub fifth ly endang h the renced. ters oug is high nce alth al are refed eland hun nd d bra nce on lice of the anim like tribute experie stancesnumber of – have con They read ude k. a end, e 20 in all the boo ting and inclDyer, – som pters to eland hun Anthony Carter cha of ie, new ’s Who Don Cow gton, Ivan few. a din the Who s as d icon Craig Bod name but on elan h suc on, to arch Hurt, w To” Robin in Roberts epth rese rs on “Ho Caliand Kev from in-d are chapteals, Rifles, thing Apart there le anim and Clo lves, , edib of suc themse se incr and Bullets ounts huge, the acc ges hunt iting t for the l as Cartrid ent. Exc the hun d as wel bres, Equipmfailures in include ters of yes , and are hun don and Bulls” rced from ris, May cesses “Blue sou ers. llis Har grey, lessons Cornwa elt and othoutstandfurther such as Roosev ented by contributeryear , Selous, plem d by the teur com lais ama is Mil book vide and er, this hs pro ional The tograp profess . Altogeth ur phoing pho well as friends 350 colo s. as e s and one will tors rapher hosts som white photog e book black and book you from n this 336 paghs and 40 e to lear an’s reading tograp f, after it is possibld – everym gielan so gentle In brie much as ting not as know about hunat times, k series a boo t – these, bush. five book of the elephan the African in the members if anond of total, ants is the sec ting of all d als in land War This the hun anim Row unt. g ily, 28 coverinhorn fam by both the n into acco coled any take spiral ks are ition to y prorecogniz imals record boocome add not onl also and SCImake a wel books andsource but sons ce ting will y sea ut It of hun referen for man abo lection worthwhile inment erts say er. a enterta t the exp back cov vide lity wha top qua e. To see consult the to com k, please the boo

W

e ng th Hunti

Suddenly he is there! Framed by the soft grey tree trunk to his left and the bright green shrubbery to his right. Any doubts I had before about the animal not being big enough flee. I focus on the shot. At this angle I need to hit the point of his left shoulder. I breathe deeply. Let the breath out.

Staple the crosshairs to the mark and hesitate. To me, this is the most important shot of my hunting career. I remember Nassos’ advice. “When they are looking at you they are not certain and you have ten, maybe 15 seconds”. He is looking. I begin my shooting routine all over again. My action re-play is interrupted by Lisanu’s excited “Shoot, shoot, shoot!” I oblige. The shot feels good. Through the scope I catch the merest glimpse of the bull rearing upward, backward and to the right. When I recover from the recoil I am alone on the hillside. I am last out of the starting blocks.

My “Is he down, is he dead?” is met by the sound of crashing brush and the sight of green clad backs heading downhill in a pell mell, headlong rush.

When I eventually arrive, I find the bull cradled by an intertwined, interlocking raft of green.

He has rolled directly downhill for some 60 paces from the tree trunk next to which he stood.

He is the end of a special journey for me in my travels through this fantastic hunting world of ours.

93 2018/05/20 21:48

When you travel, anything can happen. When it does, Global Rescue gets you home.

Click to learn more

The most trusted provider for hunters and adventurers worldwide.

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

94

95

I

t was the year 2010 at the Dallas Safari Club convention and Paris Jenkins was back at my booth every hour it seemed.

He just couldn’t stop tussling over whether to book his oneand-only, expensive plains game safari with me, or book a cheaper hunt elsewhere.

Two months later and it was March of the same year when I got an email from Paris letting me know a check was on the way. The decision was finally made. He arrived a year later, dressed in his greens and incredibly well prepared for his safari both physically and in his shooting ability, as well as with his top-quality gear.

HUNTING

WE

ARE

96

WE

by Jofie Lamprecht

Once again at the DSC show, but now in 2020, I greeted Paris as he marched into my booth with purpose. No more tussling

HUNTING

ARE

P FOR PARIS

On that safari we successfully hunted the biggest oryx of my career and one of the biggest kudu – with a broken tip for character, as well as a great warthog. Around the last campfire of that safari Paris savored his drink and told me, “I will have to make a plan to come back”.

97

about this time. He laid out his plans for what would now be his fourth African safari with me in 2021. The upcoming 2021 hunt would be for both trophy and non-trophy buffalo. Previously, on Paris’ second safari he also harvested a trophy and non-trophy buffalo and on his third and most recent safari—incredible hippo and crocodile.

“

TO BE WOKEN

BY THE ROAR OF LIONS AT 2 AM ...”

And this is where our story of Paris’ third safari adventure begins. Paris and Cindy arrived in Windhoek in June 2019 at the international airport and were met by one of our staff before being transferred for a night to a wonderful guesthouse in Windhoek.

The following day a short transfer on a commercial flight from Windhoek to Rundu and then a two-hour drive to our concession in Mahango National Park led Paris and Cindy to the picturesque Mukongo Camp on the banks of the Okavango River.

It’s always exciting to wait at the airport for old friends as I did for their arrival at Rundu. When you know what to expect and you know their preferences, you have everything prepared the way they like it. Conversation flows and memories and jokes of their last safari are easily revived and relived. There is much pleasure taken with jousts back and forth at highs and lows of previous safaris. Any good safari should have a fair number of both--this is the way of Africa in the ever true, old acronym of A.W.A. (Africa Wins Again).

We were after the aquatic species of hippo and crocodile, as well as an impala for bait. Goats from the local community would make up the balance of our baiting requirements. Our pre-baiting was moderately unsuccessful to say the least, not bringing in any big crocs but instead a leopard stealing one, and a variety of other carrion eaters feeding on the rest. We had seen several crocs in the vicinity that were in the size category we wanted. For hippo in Mahango, it is simply a matter of time and selecting the right opportunity.

In Namibia, a flowing river is a rare sight. Only six perennial rivers form borders of our magical arid country, with only two of them having Namibia on both banks of the river, the Okavango and the WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

98

99

WE

checked, I could see Paris was enjoying every second of his time in the bush now in the company of an old friend. Paris and Cindy were the first guests in our newly finished camp, and this was their second safari with one of my apprentices, Jack. What I could sense was of grave concern to Paris was the shot placement of the croc and the danger of—if the shot was not placed right—the croc jumping into the water never to be recovered again. As a PH it’s my job to coach my clients and friends through this and help them where I can, the goal being to subdue their concerns to the best of my ability and to try and present the best possible shot for the greatest chance of success. Mentor, shrink and friend – the many roles a PH plays while on safari. After taking a great old impala ram in the first few days we worked on scouting for crocs WE

HUNTING

ARE

100

IS A RARE SIGHT

HUNTING

ARE

Kwando, before they snake their way onwards to Botswana. Next to the Okavango in the deep shade of a riverine forest with giant wild fig, knob-thorn and jackalberry trees, our camp stands in the lazy breeze with sweeping views of the Okavango river. It has a tranquility all its own, with adventure around every corner. To be woken by the roar of lions at 2 a.m., only to snuggle back into the warmth of the comforter for a few more welcome hours of sleep before the next day’s adventure dawns. It has never been home to me – other than safaris conducted on both banks of the Okavango, in tents – “glampimg” if you will. It is however a second-generation tradition to hunt these shaded white beaches, an allure that I have been unable to shake and probably never will. My father left his tracks here in past decades and he is missed still. With rifles

A FLOWING RIVER

“

“

IN NAMIBIA

101

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

102

view. This was the perfect place for these dinosaurs to hide. We slowly got out of the view of our prey and then formulated a plan.

The thick undergrowth on the 14-foot-high riverbank was excellent but noisy cover. Estimating just how far back upriver was the big challenge and I left our small team behind and started a snakelike recon through the thick bush. With bated breath the team looked on as I made my way in and out. Finally, I peered down to see a big croc just 20 yards away lying on the sand bank. Through the bush I could make out a big gnarly head with two big bumps for the nose. I motioned for Paris and Jack to make their way toward my position. Carefully, moving sticks and leaves as they went it took some time. While I waited, I studied the croc again. I started second guessing myself and looking at where the croc lay

HUNTING

ARE

and hippo by slowly walking the banks of the lush Okavango river.

We got wet a lot and bogged down in the mud a few times while on foot – but all was in good humor and evenings around the campfire were well deserved, as were the three course meals we savored before falling asleep to the sounds of cavorting hippo and patrolling lion. Getting a crocodile was on our minds and we started to get concerned as day after day of the safari slipped by.

We had not quite reached the halfway point of our safari yet when, while negotiating a southern stretch of the river, I happened to look back up-river and told our procession to stop dead. We eased away from the bank with four sets of eyes inquiring as to what I saw. Croc! At least two, one maybe of ‘size’ lay on a sand bank under the cover of a tall embankment guarding this p lace from

103

on the bank in a depression on the white sand. Something didn’t look right. Was this the same croc? How would I not have been able to see this one from downstream? Paris and Jack made it to my position, and I got Paris set up. “Look at the shot, at the angle. You got it?” I asked. Paris’ icy blue eyes nodded in absolute concentration. A few more seconds of glassing the croc and I whispered: “This is not the one”. We backed up and I started the snaking move all over again. This time I found the island I had seen earlier, with a croc slightly bigger than the one we were on just before – but bigger all the same. It was a 25-yard shot. This should be okay for Paris’ nerves I thought. We got set up with Paris sitting on his knees lined up on “sitting sticks”. I gave him the go ahead and got ready for my own back up shot. It got loud. The croc never even knew what hit him. The ice on the “tough shot” now broken, we went home for a cold beer and got some great trophy photos. Now for the hippo…

A few days later, sitting in the reeds, we had hippo on land and in the water 180-degrees around us. Their lips plucking grass loudly not further away than what the croc shot had been. The pod bull was eating water lilies right in front of us in deep water.

We had made a firm decision that we were NOT going to shoot a hippo in the water. We wanted to have him out on land. The bull hippo turned from his right to his left side – and I saw something amazing etched on his thick skin, but for the time being I kept it to myself. As the midday sun started baking our backs we quietly retreated and left for camp, lunch and a welcome siesta. “We’ll come back later this afternoon and see where they are in these reeds,“ I informed our party.

After a delightful lunch and a short rest, one could feel that the pace and enthusiasm was high. We walked back into the bank of reeds and waded through some waist-deep channels and started looking for our target. As the sun started dipping towards the horizon our daylight was fading, but not as fast as our enthusiasm.

A dark spot in the reeds close to the bank brought our team to a halt. Movement—one, no, two shadows moving towards the WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

104

105

shallow channel—one huge, the other smaller. As they splashed into the ankle-deep water, the larger one was obviously a bull, his lower tusks pushing his upper lips into two big lumps next to his nostrils.

And then the unique etching on his side became visible. The shooting sticks went up and it was on. At 40 yards, Paris made a perfect side-brain shot, and with this single strike of lightning, our hunting success was secured. There was no need for a backup shot. Approaching the enormous beast, it was safety first and then handshakes, high-fives and hugs. I then walked around and showed Paris the mysterious skin marking I had seen earlier.

There was a perfect P etched into the hippo’s thick hide, bigger than a man’s hand – P for Paris. It was meant to be. And now we still had several days of relaxation to explore this magical place called Mahango.

“Cocktails with elephants” is what we dubbed this maiden safari of 2019 in Mahango Park. At a waterhole deep inside the park, we set a table, complete with tablecloth, chairs, snacks and of course cocktails of the clients’ choice. Late afternoon sees a lot of action here– especially elephant. The bulls come lumbering in, at times 30 to 40 feet away from our guests. Roan, sable, kudu, zebra, the odd warthog or a lonely old buffalo bull make up the cast of species that are often seen during this event. And of course, don’t forget the odd leopard hiding in the shadows. Paris, we’ll see you soon. For in Africa we never say goodbye – it’s simply, “Until we meet again old friend.”

“

...I SAW SOMETHING AMAZING

Born in Namibia in 1979, Jofie was raised on safari. Hunting his first Oryx at the age of 5, first leopard in a blind at 6 and his first Cape buffalo when just 12. He and his beautiful family are based in Windhoek at their Safari Villas Boutique Hotel and in Namibia’s famous Caprivi Strip at their Mukongo Camp.

ETCHED ON HIS THICK SKIN.” WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

106

107

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

108

109

PROFESSIONAL PERSPECTIVE

MIKE ANGELIDES

Mike Angelides is a Tanzanian citizen and son of the well-known professional hunter and outfitter George Angelides. Mike grew up in the hunting industry and was fully licensed in Tanzania in 1993 and has hunted only in Tanzania ever since. He worked for his dad until 2000 when George Angelides moved his operation to the Congo. Mike remained in Tanzania and worked as a PH for Tanzania Big Game Safaris until 2013 when he accepted the position of PH/ General Manager for Old Nyika safaris and Safaris Royal (also known as Danny McCallum Safaris) which he since purchased, hence the name of today’s marketing name McCallum Safaris Tanzania.

My wife Helen and I own and operate two safari companies in Tanzania: Safari Royal Holdings and Old Nyika Safaris. We market our safaris under the alias of “McCallum Safaris Tanzania with Mike Angelides”. It was always my dream to own and operate my own hunting concessions in Tanzania, so when the possibility came up, I negotiated a gradual purchase of the companies, with the backing of my family.

HUNTING

WE

ARE

110

M

ike, tell us about your company and how you acquired it:

Tracking in the woodland of western Tanzania - a safari hunter’s paradise.

W

hat hunting areas are you currently the custodian of and what do they consist of?

We currently operate in 4 contiguous hunting blocks in western Tanzania, namely Chunya Msami, Chunya Lukwati, Piti West, and Luwkati North. Together these four blocks cover 3,222 square miles (over 2 million acres) of prime big-game habitat.

A

nti poaching is a big part of an outfitter’s responsibilities.

What does that look like for McCallum Safaris?

As outfitters and custodians of wilderness areas we must look after the wildlife and the habitat we hunt. During the season we tone down patrols because we have hunters in the field who are actually a huge deterrent and any poaching activity basically comes to a standstill. We do organize periodic light surveillance patrols and send out full patrols in response to any sign reported by the hunters or the surveillance crew.

During the off season we send out our anti-poaching patrol crew who are accompanied by 4-6 government game scouts and they run a periodic schedule of approximately 14 days at a time. So, we continue to monitor the areas until it gets too wet and mobility within the areas becomes impossible and the patrols lose any realistic chance of being effective. The good thing is that the wet conditions also make it very difficult for poachers to operate within the areas. We also work closely with the local communities through cooperation with the village chairperson.

Our community development supervisor visits the 2 main villages that we work closely with on a regular basis. The villages provide us with a written list of projects that they would like to

HUNTING

WE

ARE

It takes a combination of hard work, stamina and bravery to patrol the hunting areas when one never knows if poaching gangs will fire upon the anti-poaching rangers.

113

PHOTO CAPTIONS (from top left to bottom right) One of the McCallum Safaris antipoaching vehicles and staff.

The hazards of driving in the wet season.

One can never get too far without having dig out of the mud when the rainy season is underway. The anti-poaching rangers work hard to protect these pristine hunting blocks.

A young Mike in 1980 with his father’s hunting client.

Father and son - Mike with his father George in Masailand not long after hunting reopened in Tanzania (1980).

From one generation to the next, the Angelides family have been deeply involved in professional hunting and conservation for decades.

Rough-hewn drying racks used by poachers to dry meat they illegally harvest.

Poachers being apprehended within the hunting areas by anti-poaching forces.

HUNTING

WE

ARE

114

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

116

117

Previous page: Mike with his trackers Swaleh (since 1996) and Mdula and hunting client.

Left: Mike and client with a lovely 45� Cape buffalo.

initiate or complete and what they require to get them done. We then purchase tangible items such as building materials, books and stationary, medical supplies, etc., and donate them to the village office to be distributed accordingly to the school or the village clinic.

Another aspect of our community involvement is that we hire a lot of people from the villages to work in our camps.

This gives them a first-hand experience of the direct benefits that hunting makes in their communities. After four solid months of safaris they return to the village with a very handsome income and a good supply of dried meat that will feed their extended families for a long period of time. We instill in them the importance of conserving what we have for the benefit of their families and their village and the result is that they become our advocates against poaching in their villages.

P

eople often forget how much maintenance and hard work happens in the off-season. A lot of work needs to be done to take care of your camp equipment and vehicles, hunting areas, staff, the local community, and the wildlife. Tell us more: Due to the effects of the rainy season, our hunting season typically ends in mid-November. Our camps are broken down and transported to Arusha (3 days travel by road) where we have our base headquarters and storage facilities. Once the equipment is back in Arusha, we typically pack everything away and send the staff home for a well-earned rest. We then start preparing our marketing materials for the convention season and our marketing trip to the USA. Following the hectic schedule of the conventions, we get back to Tanzania in mid-February and then we kick-start preparations for the upcoming season. Our mechanics begin working on major vehicle repairs and basic services and the tailors WE

ARE

HUNTING

119

Well-armed antipoaching patrols are part of the conservation regimen even in the wet season.

and electricians come in for equipment improvements. Tents are cleaned and repaired, the kitchen and mess boxes are all opened, checked and replenished, fridges are serviced and gassed, generators are overhauled and tested, and so the list goes on and on. By April the expensive and arduous process of preparing orders, sourcing traders and purchasing supplies begins as well as the distribution, packaging for transport and documentation of supplies to send to each of the hunting camps. If all goes according to plan, we pack up our trucks at the end of May for the first of many back and forth trips to our remote hunting camps. Everything needed for the duration of the hunting season is transported in order to complete the rebuilding of our camps—fuel, generators, building materials, food and drink supplies, trophy salt, staff food and a host of other items.

Every year our camps are re-built from scratch. This monumental task includes clearing the campsite area of overgrown vegetation, making firebreaks, putting up fences and building new pathways.

It takes our 4, five-ton trucks 5 or 6 trips between Arusha and the camps with all of the needed equipment and supplies.

Our staff is made up of a few permanent employees and numerous seasonal employees. Our seasonal employees usually work from May to October. Many of these seasonal employees come from the villages that abut our hunting areas. These seasonal workers remain under our responsibility even in the off season and we often find ourselves financing loans for their livelihood from March to April every year with the understanding that they will come back to work in May. We also offer these seasonal employees further work and training at our Arusha base and stores between March and May to counteract their off-season schedules.

HUNTING

WE

ARE

120

HUNTING

WE

ARE

122

WE

The Tanzanian authorities decided to change the block allocation process to an auctioning process in 2018. This was a sudden decision and was imposed immediately, even though most of the operational companies had been issued a letter of confirmation that they would retain their blocks for another 5 years (from 2018 – 2022). For various reasons, the authorities then extended the leasehold of hunting blocks to most of the companies for a further few years—to the end of December 2021—to allow for commitments on safaris already booked by clients to be met, and also to give government more time to set up and experiment with

the auction process. The auction Telling exciting stories is always system has been implemented an important part of a PH’s job for better transparency on block allocation, which indeed description. Here, Mike and his there is, but in my opinion the clients stop for a midday ‘bush’ auction system was a rushed lunch, enjoying the shade of the process. The lack of research miombo savannah. and planning for the auction is evident when one looks at the dismal participation and lack of success of the two online auctions that have already taken place.

Another weakness has been that the auction system is being implemented without taking into consideration the existing operators who have held areas for many years and are very much established in them, having managed and protected them for so

HUNTING

ARE

I

n Tanzania, a lot of speculation and uncertainty seems to be looming about the allocation of hunting areas and the future of hunting there. Enlighten us a bit more on this subject:

123

already priced at the highest end of the market, so there is no room for further price increases. As safari operators our only option is to look at reducing our costs in order for us to stay in the game. With regards to the future of hunting in Tanzania, I believe that the old established operators who can downsize their expenses and manage their hunting areas successfully will continue to operate in fewer areas and Tanzania will remain a pinnacle hunting destination for real hunters who are in search of the ultimate adventure.

W

hat are your observations and opinions about the everchanging worldwide hunting markets demands of international clients and how those trends and requirements specifically apply to African safari destinations such as Tanzania?

Hunting in Tanzania is still very much alive and there is a huge demand to hunt in Tanzania, a country that still delivers fantastic adventures and top-quality hunting areas. However, the expense of operating in Tanzania is becoming very hard to manage and it’s pushing a lot of outfitters to either downsize or shut down all together. Tanzania is

HUNTING

WE

ARE

124

Most African outfitters have adjusted their marketing and hunting packages to suit this demand. Here in Tanzania we do not have that luxury as we are limited by government on what we can sell on a specific license or for a specific number of days. On the downside this “now and quick” demand has led to the invention of “canned lions” and “put and take safaris”. We are slowly losing the WE

long. In my opinion this matter needs to be taken into consideration and the established operators who can prove their track record, investment in both time and money, and improvement of their hunting blocks should be given the first right of refusal. This should include an offer of cordial terms to the outfitters so as to extend their tenure as a form of appreciation for their commitment to conservation in Tanzania.

HUNTING

ARE

Mike and client with a magnificent old, warrior of a lion. Lions in Tanzania may only be harvested if they are fully mature (6 years or older). This oldtimer was well past his prime and thus a perfect animal to take.

The hunting world has changed a lot in the last 15 years, it seems that the majority of hunters don’t want to go on a hunt for the experience, because at the end of the day they don’t have the time.

They want to “hunt” as much game as possible in the shortest time possible, or maybe come to Africa for one or two specific animals, again because they don’t have the time or the money to do more.

It seems to be part of human evolution to want things quicker and easier. For example, when I think of music, we used to have to listen to whole albums or painfully forward to the track that we wanted to hear. Now, any song is just a touch away. NASCAR used to be made up of cars made entirely of parts available to the general public. Now, although the vehicles may superficially resemble a standard American family sedan, they’re in fact purpose-built racing machines.

125

Aerial photo showing the vast difference in habitat between the well-cared for hunting block (left) and the heavily populated agricultural land (right) that adjoins it. With ever increasing human populations, its of vital importance for rural Africans to understand the benefits of conservation through hunting and to actively participate in its protection.

In the last 10 years social media has enabled anyone to spread his or her message very efficiently.

Unfortunately, the well-funded antihunting organizations beat the hunting conservationists to the punch. They smothered social media with antihunting propaganda and hunters have been playing catch-up ever since.

I am currently the Secretary General for the Tanzania Hunting Operators Association (TAHOA) and the Vice President of the African Professional Hunters Association (APHA). My involvement with associations started in 2006 with the Tanzania Professional Hunters Association (TPHA) 2006-2017. I am a firm believer that if you see change is needed, then be a part of that change. I believe that regulated hunting does provide protection to all fauna and flora and without it we would’ve already lost huge tracts of wilderness.

HUNTING

WE

ARE

126

A

s you look to the future, what advice would you give hunting clients?

Book responsibly! Hunting is conservation, but only if the hunting dollars are put into conservation! Research your safari outfitter and PH before booking. A good suggestion is to only book with a PH or outfitter that is a member of that country’s hunting association.

Supporting and being an active member of a hunting association is a clear sign that the outfitter or PH supports conservation and the hunting industry in that country. When you document your safari—especially if you do it on social media—also document the conservation efforts of the area in which you hunt. And especially if you post on social media, post these conservation efforts as WE

A

n important part of conservation through hunting is maintaining involvement in the broader community of hunting professionals and outfitters. What organizations are you a member of and why do you see such activism as important?

HUNTING

ARE

true aspect of what I believe a hunt should be, which is actually hunting an animal rather than just going to shoot one.

We still have a lot to learn, but for every step that we learn we often take two steps back. Canned lion hunting is just one example. I don’t waste any time trying to argue with anti-hunters and I also don’t see any point of being rude to them. There really isn’t anything I can say to change their point of view. However, we should do better at advertising the positive benefits of hunting and why it not only conserves, but also enhances wildlife and habitat.

127

well! In my opinion, there is Poacher camps are always destroyed still way too much posting when found, in the hopes of deterring of hunted animals on social further illegal activity in the hunting media. We need to take a areas. step back and see how this actually turns people against hunting and shuts them down from wanting to hear any explanations about conservation through hunting.

A

s you look to the future, what advice would you give fellow professionals, outfitters and hunting industry stakeholders?

I firmly believe that we as hunting conservationists have to change not what we do, but how we present what we do. When we think about it, hunters actually makeup a rather small community and we like to show off our hunting achievements—usually in the form of a trophy photo.

Hunters look at these photos with admiration and appreciate the effort that went into obtaining that particular animal, but posting those photos on social media only leads to some non-hunting person seeing that photo and drawing their own conclusions from it. They have no idea what it took to hunt that animal. All they see is a smiling person over a dead animal and then they make their assumptions from what they see, subsequently never bothering to do any further research. It’s unfortunate that not enough outfitters publish their conservation efforts and how hunting is their means to conserve wildlife and habitat. The reality of it is probably because most clients don’t book a hunt based on conservation efforts, but rather book after seeing trophy photos.

conservation efforts. If we don’t do it, or we don’t want to, then can we really call ourselves conservationists? If not, then hunting is in fact just about killing after all, and the animal rights activists end up being right.

In closing, we outfitters need to be creative and figure out a better way of marketing the true hunting experience, rather than just highlighting a series of trophy photos. We should begin to learn the art of portraying the true nature of the hunting experience for what it is—a great adventure.

Whether or not one should post trophy photos on social media has mixed criticisms from within the hunting world. But, without a doubt I do believe it agitates and gives ammunition for the animal right activists to crusade against hunters. The result is that it then pushes many who are “on the fence” over to the anti-hunting side. As I said earlier, it’s important for us to actively promote our WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

128

129

SMALL AND TOUGH! World Class Shotgun Shells Proudly made in Namibia

By utilising State-of-the-Art Loading Technology we are able to load with the highest degree of accuracy and consitancy

Our wide range of products have been developed for Africa's unique conditions

ACRO C-1™ The AimpointŽ Acro C-1 is with its minimal size the smallest enclosed red dot sight system on the market.

Acro C-1 has proven to lead in ruggedness and reliability after being tested with 20,000 rounds on a .40 S&W caliber pistol slide. The sight is optimized for use on optic ready pistols but the wide range of available mounting solutions for the Acro series makes it an all-round sight that can be used on several weapon platforms.

Acro C-1 is a lightweight, low-profile optic that provides fast target acquisition and an unlimited field of view for hunters as well as sport shooters.

Read more on www.aimpoint.com

HUNTING

WE

ARE

WE

ARE

130 HUNTING www.lamprechtammunition.com

131 M03225

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

132

133

A STORY OF

MOUNTAINS, HILLS & PLAINS

by Adrian Matei

ROMANIA IS TRULY ONE OF THE LAST WILD FRONTIERS OF HUNTING IN EUROPE, OFFERING SOME OF THE MOST SPECTACULAR TROPHIES NATURE HAS TO OFFER.

T

his prime hunting destination is home to abundant forests that stretch for hundreds of miles with deep tranquil lakes nestled in their midst. Mighty raging rivers and spectacular waterfalls split its rugged and majestic mountain ranges.

Few countries boast such impressive natural diversity as Romania. From its Black Sea coastline to the remote landscapes of its Carpathian Mountains, the country offers everything a visiting hunter could hope for. Wingshooters will enjoy gentle forays into the Danube River delta in summer, while those seeking mountain-dwelling big game will be tested to extremes in the Carpathian Mountains during the snow-ravaged winters.

Hunting in these sheer landscapes presents a serious challenge, even to experienced hunting mountaineers.

Romania offers a wide variety of game species including Carpathian Chamois, Eurasian Brown Bear, Gray Wolf, Red Stag, Wild Boar, Roe Deer, Eurasian Lynx, Fallow Deer, Capercaille and a variety of waterfowl such as goose and duck and other upland game birds including dove, quail and skylark.

Whatever type of hunting experience you’re looking for, be it in the mountains, in the gentle rolling hills or in the low-lying plains and river deltas, Romania can offer you that unforgettable adventure and satisfy your desire for the trophy hunting experience of your dreams. Nothing compares to the amazing Romanian wilderness and the warm hospitality of its citizens.

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

136

137

A story of A ROMANIAN OUTFITTER

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

138

139

A

s a passionate hunter and outfitter, I’d like to introduce myself and tell you a bit about my story and my company’s commitment to conservation in Romania. My name is Adrian Tiberiu Matei. From 1993 – 1995 I worked hard as a young apprentice hunter before achieving my full hunting license in 1995. Since 2000 I’ve hunted professionally for all of the available game species found in our lovely country.

As an avid hunter, I’m also a dog-lover. I currently serve as the Honorary President of the National Club of Pointing Dogs and I’ve been breeding and training pointing dogs and wild boar hunting dogs from our Casa Matei Kennel for over 15 years. I’m proud to say that our dogs aren’t only tough, but also beautiful.

Over the years we’ve been fortunate to have many of our dogs win numerous hunting and beauty contests.

I have the pleasure of serving as President of AHSFT (Association of Hunters and Sports Fishermen Tomis), which I established in 2010. Since then I’ve constantly been on the road with our hunting guests, whom I accompany personally. My long experience with organizing full-service hunting trips throughout all the varied landscapes and biomes of Romania helps me to cater to the specific hunting needs of each and every one of our clients.

Our company has collaboration agreements in place with many private and state associations throughout Romania for the organization of hunting parties. We manage five private hunting areas—which we call hunting “funds”—covering all the different environment types in Romania: mountains, hills, plains and the Danube River delta. In my opinion, there is no equal in the rest of Europe to Romanian hunting because of the wild and remote terrain our country offers.

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

140

141

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

142

143

Hill Area Hunting Fund: This hunting area comprises a total of 9,109 hectares, of which 3,046 hectares is forest. The hunting area is a great all-around hunting environment where we find a variation of landscape from hills to mountains. This hunting fund is accessible to all hunters regardless of their physical or health limitations. Here we find the following species: fox, badger, wildcat, lynx, jackal, wolf, roebuck, Carpathian red stag, brown bear and forest woodcock.

Hunting Fund in the Plains Area No. 1: The total surface area of this hunting fund is 6,781 hectares, of which 2,565 hectares is forest. This large and dense forest area is located near agricultural land, so the fund is a unique biotope for roebuck and wild boar, producing some very exceptional trophies. The fauna in this fund includes the following species: fox, badger, wildcat, jackal, roebuck, wild boar, woodcock, pheasant, rabbit, pigeon, skylark, and quail.

Mountain Hunting Fund: This private hunting area covers a total of 15,107 hectares, of which 13,800 hectares is forest.

There is no human settlement whatsoever in 70% of this area, so we find pure wildlife and untouched landscapes. There are more than 10 notable high mountain peaks marked on the map of this hunting fund. As for the fauna found in this unique hunting area, we find the following species: fox, badger, wildcat, lynx, wolf, roebuck, Carpathian red stag, brown bear, chamois, capercaillie, black grouse and forest woodcock.

HUNTING

WE

ARE

144

In Romania we are firm believers that conservation through hunting is what keeps our beautiful and diverse ecosystems healthy. The gamekeepers in our private hunting areas monitor all activity and are on constant lookout for any evidence of poaching.

In cooperation with the local police departments, we have been successful in reducing poaching activity in our hunting funds to almost zero! We Romanians pride ourselves in the quality of WE

Here is an overview of our Hunting Funds:

HUNTING

ARE

In Romania it’s sometimes very difficult to obtain the trophy, but when this is accomplished you realize it’s been worth all the hard work. The quality of our hunting trophies is unsurpassed and hard to beat anywhere else.

Hunting Fund in the Plains Area No. 2: This hunting fund has a total area of 8,207 hectares, of which 400 hectares is forest. On these hunting grounds, which are very close to the Black Sea and Romania’s border with Bulgaria, we find an extremely good biotope for migratory and autochthonous (endemic) birds. Being so close to the border, there is always the excitement of a great deal of animal movement. The species found here include: fox, badger, wild cat, jackal, roebuck, wild boar, Carpathian red stag, woodcock, pheasant, rabbit, pigeon, skylark and quail. This hunting area is accessible to all hunters regardless of their physical or health limitations.

145

food that we produce and prepare. Natural ingredients are of the utmost importance in all of our meals. As such, all of the meat harvested from trophy hunting is utilized to the fullest extent possible. Since most foreign hunting clients cannot take their meat home, our company processes the harvested meat at local butcheries where it is turned into the most delicious salami, sausages, pastrami, mince and steaks that you can imagine! Hunting clients are always served these high-quality meats from the previous hunt. In this way, we contribute to the overall protection of game species as well as ensuring that value is placed upon the animals through sustainable utilization.

Our commitment to our beautiful Romania, to its precious animals and to our visiting hunting clients forms the basis of our priorities.

We hope that you will enjoy not only the quality of trophies, but also the warm hospitality of our wonderful people. Speaking on behalf of all Romanian professional hunting operators, we will be glad to welcome you as our guests in Romania.

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

146

147

Premium Gun Care Swiss made

Ostermayer Jagd Gun Grease Gold is resistant to water and protects your weapon extremely durable with charged microceramic.

Reliably against loss of lubrication and wear, even in extreme situations.

Very high temperature resistance from -50° to +250° Celsius.

Your weapon works under all conditions as you are used to.

The grease does not become liquid even at very high temperatures.

Maximum protection against corrosion and wear.

Neutral to plastics.

PH neutral.

Quality decides.

www.ostermayer-jagd.com WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

148

149

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

150

151

I

’ve been enthralled with the beauty of the Hartmann’s Mountain zebra ever since I first saw one as a little boy. Their regal posture, bulky body, and distinct patterns make them one of the most beautiful animals in Africa. However, it was not just their beauty that made them an attractive quarry to me. Their wary and cunning nature along with predominantly nocturnal drinking patterns made the challenge of getting a free-range stallion in broad daylight—especially with a bow— an irresistible undertaking.

As I neared my high school graduation in Namibia, I told my Dad that my “bucket list” hunt before heading off to university in the U.S. was for a Mountain zebra. Ironically, this was also my older sister’s graduation wish a few years earlier. The story of my own zebra hunt actually began with hers.

In the scorching heat of late October my sister, Haley, guided by my Dad and me, set out on foot in the granite hills of northwestern Namibia with the goal of getting within reasonable rifle range of a big, free-range Mountain zebra stallion.

After two days, many miles walked and many failed stalks, we finally got to within 150 yards of a small herd of zebras resting on top of a granite “koppie” (small hill). Haley

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

152

153

made a perfect shot on a massive stallion, and he was down in seconds.

Before the hunt began, Haley had said that she wanted to do it the proper way—shooting the zebra on top of a mountain and then skinning and packing it out on foot—and she got exactly what she wished for. Since the zebra went down so quickly, he didn’t have a chance to make it off of the koppie, which meant we couldn’t get the vehicle anywhere close to load it with a winch.

We spent three hours skinning and carrying the giant stallion off of the mountain in the 100 degree (38 Celsius) heat under a blistering midday African sun. It was an adventure to say the least and whetted my appetite for my own Hartmann’s Mountain zebra hunt one day.

As much as I wanted to hunt my Mountain zebra on foot, getting one in this manner with a bow was virtually impossible on the property where I would eventually hunt mine.

So, I had to settle for hunting near a water point. However, that by no means meant that it would be an easy task. In Namibia, there are some unpressured areas where they drink during daylight on a moderately consistent basis, but getting a shot at one over water on a free-range property with consistent hunting pressure and an extremely high leopard population is a monumental challenge.

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

154

155

View from the tree stand. Although ultimately unsuccessful for the zebra, the author shot a grand old kudu bull from this stand two months prior.

HUNTING

WE

ARE

156

View from inside the pop-up blind with the mountainous home range of the zebra herds in the background.

Over the course of more than a year, we tried multiple different setups and strategies to keep the zebras from smelling us—a tree stand to elevate our scent, a brush blind in the riverbed to catch the zebras as they would circle downwind of the water, pop-up blinds in various different positions, different cover scents and scent eliminators, and more. It felt like we had tried just about everything until Louw finally had an ingenious idea. In WE

The pop-up blind tucked away in the corner of the cattle kraal, giving the author a chance at a 40-yard shot.

During the right moon phase, trail cameras would show multiple herds drinking during daylight—a rarity for these elusive creatures.

However, getting them to come in when we were hunting them was an entirely different story, as it was nearly impossible to beat their well-equipped noses. As they are known for doing, the zebras would almost always circle downwind of the water to ensure that it was clear of any danger before proceeding to drink. This, along with their ghost-like nocturnal habits, made for an exhausting game of cat-and-mouse.

HUNTING

ARE

Another attempt at ambushing the elusive zebra from a brush blind in the riverbed.

In May of 2016, a good friend and regular hunting partner, Louw Nel, invited me to come and hunt on his property which is mere 30 minutes-drive from my house in Namibia’s capital city, Windhoek. The property is a large, free-range cattle farm with a significant population of Hartmann’s Mountain zebras that regularly come down from the mountains in the evening to drink water—usually long after the sun has set.

159

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

160

done. We set up the blind, brushed it in, and let it sit for a while to allow the zebras to get The author’s used to it. After a few days, Louw called me zebra and said that the trail camera showed that stallion the zebras were unbothered by the blind and standing coming in during daylight. Now was time for vigilantly me to make a move. That afternoon, I made for a brief my way to the base of the mountains where moment the blind was located and waited impatiently before the for the zebras to show themselves. After only shot. an hour, I looked down the fence line running perpendicular to the mountains and spotted a herd of zebras crossing a clearing 300 yards away. It was one of the first HUNTING

ARE

the corner of the cattle “kraal” surrounding the water, there was one previously overlooked spot for a pop-up blind that could be tucked away between a dense thorn bush and the low cattle fence. There was a deep ditch behind it where the zebras almost never walked, so with the right wind, the odds of them smelling us went down dramatically. We hadn’t considered it until this point because it was quite far from the water—about 40 yards—and it would be an awkward uphill shot, but we didn’t have time to worry anymore. I only had one more week left before I had to go to Texas to start my fouryear stint at college, and this was our last hope of getting it

Trail cameras confirmed the zebra herds were visiting the water in daylight.

161

times that I had actually laid eyes on them.

It wasn’t long before it became evident that they were making their way towards the water and I could feel knots starting to form in my stomach. I had been here before—zebras on the way in, good wind, everything perfect— but something would always go wrong. I could hear them loudly walking through the rocks as they slowly got closer and closer.

Then, to my amazement, they started filing into the water point one-by-one without a clue as to my presence. Our plan had worked! I knew the stallion would likely be the last one to show himself, so I waited.

The intensity was almost overwhelming.

Finally, the stallion appeared at the edge of the clearing where it stood and scanned the area before making his way cautiously to the water. Of course, he strategically stood facing dead away from me and offered me no shot.

After a few minutes, the herd started to walk off, and the stallion turned to follow. I drew my bow and settled my pin on his vitals—40 yards...45...50...55. I tried every trick in the book to get him to stop, and finally had to resort to a loud, “Heeeeeyyy”. The beautiful stallion briefly stopped at 60 yards, but it was too far to ethically take a shot in such a rushed situation, and after a couple of seconds he was on his way again. I couldn’t believe it...I had waited for over a year to finally have a mountain zebra stand in front of me, and now WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

162

163

As the sun slowly dipped towards the horizon, I looked down the fence line where I’d first seen the zebras the evening before. Sure enough, there they were. This time, however, it was a different herd with an even bigger stallion. They followed the exact same script as the herd from yesterday and again the stallion brought up the rear. Being a larger and older stallion than the previous one, he exercised much more caution.

While the rest of the herd began to drink, the huge zebra circled downwind of the water in an attempt to smell any possible danger.

This led him right in front of our blind—so close that we could hear him sniff the air— but no shot angle was presented.

The next afternoon, my Dad was able to join me for the first time since I’d started this pursuit. Buoyed by new-found hope from the previous evening and coupled with Dad being my good luck charm, I felt like it was going to be an exciting hunt. We parked the truck and quietly snuck into the blind where we sat in nervous anticipation.

After an intense five minutes of close calls, he finally stopped broadside at 40 yards and stared directly at our blind. I was worried that he would catch sight of me drawing my bow, but this wasn’t the time for hesitation.

I awkwardly squatted down so that the top cam of my bow would clear the pop-up blind’s low roof. I drew back and instinctively let the sight pin settle on the zebra’s shoulder.

HUNTING

WE

ARE

WE

The stallion’s nerves eventually settled, but even then he didn’t let his guard down.

While the rest of the herd drank, he tirelessly patrolled the area around the water looking for danger. Every time I tried to draw my bow, he would start walking again.

HUNTING

ARE

164

that it finally happened, I had to watch him walk off into the literal sunset. Despite the obvious disappointment, I went home more encouraged than ever. If it happened once, it could happen again just as easily. The moon phase and overall conditions would be the same tomorrow.

165

In a blur I watched my green lighted nock arc through the air and disappear into his shoulder. It was over. We watched the stallion crash away on three legs with the entrance wound clearly visible on its right side. Thankfully, the shot placement was perfect.

Soon we heard a dull thud as the hardhit zebra collapsed in the soft sand of the riverbed—just out of sight. My Dad and I simply looked at each other in awe and disbelief, unable to wrap our minds around what had just happened. It was surreal. I gave Dad a tight hug and thanked him for being there with me and for supporting me throughout the entire process.

It had taken 8 years of dreaming, over a year of trying, and more than 60 hard hours in one kind of stand or another to get this Hartmann’s Mountain zebra, and there’s nobody I would’ve rather had with me when it happened. After what felt like a 15-minute eternity of precautionary waiting, we got out of the small pop-up blind to recover my dream animal. As we expected, just 40 yards from where he had been shot, the giant 700-pound stallion lay in his final resting place.

Walking up to him was deeply emotional.

I had invested so much time, energy, and emotion into this hunt and it was hard to believe that it was finally over. My Dad and I sat on the ground in silent appreciation— WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

166

167

thankful for the zebra’s life, and in awe of its beauty. Louw soon came and joined us with a big smile of celebration and relief on his face.

He had invested just as much in this hunt as I had, and I couldn’t have done it without him.

I’m so incredibly thankful for the opportunity to have hunted such a magnificent animal with so much amazing support from friends and family. I had a dream, made it my goal, pursued it, and accomplished it.

Just one week later I would have to get on a plane and leave all of this behind to start a new season of life, but during that moment it was the furthest thing from my mind.

The little boy inside of me who had been obsessed with hunting a Mountain zebra for most of his life finally had his dream come true.

Born American, but a son of Africa, Jackson is an avid bow hunter and photographer with a passion for wildlife conservation. Find him on Instagram @jackson__engel

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

168

169

When you travel, anything can happen. When it does, Global Rescue gets you home.

The most trusted provider for hunters and adventurers worldwide.

Click to learn more

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

170

171

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

172

173

C

amera or bow? Which do I grab?

Heart pumping - adrenaline rushing this was the dilemma I faced while hunkered down inside my brushed-in, ground blind last October. In the morning darkness I worked my way up the hill and slipped into the blind.

It had been less than one week since my buddy Shannon and I had decided to set up a camera and feeder on the property where we work - a whopping 10-acre lot smack in the middle of a semi-rural subdivision. But in the first four days after setting up the camera and feeder, 100 yards from our office, we had four different mature bucks on camera...and one of them had just walked into the clearing less than 25 yards away from me.

This was the 8-point we called Rowdy. He got his name because every time we saw him he was chasing - hard - and constantly snort-wheezing. Unfortunately, he was the youngest of the four bucks on our hit list.

For that reason alone I decided to reach for my camera, despite my desperation to finally shoot a buck.

I can remember being in third grade sitting at my desk in school drawing “blueprints” of deer blinds I wanted to build. Hunting consumed my thoughts. All year long I would dream of that three-hour drive with my dad to our family’s humble, one hundred acre ranch in East Texas. But even then I never considered that I would WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

174

175

make my livelihood in the outdoor industry. That idea didn’t hit me until four years after college when I was volunteering for a non-profit in South Africa. I had a film degree in my pocket and I was chomping at the bit to hunt African game. After hunting almost exclusively on our small family ranch for the last seventeen years I wanted to finally live out my Peter Hathaway Capstick dreams that up until then had been unleashed upon a very small population of whitetails and feral hogs in the Piney Woods of East Texas. I could never afford an African hunt outright so I thought, “What if I trade my film services to an outfitter in exchange for hunting opportunities?” That question was the seed that has since bloomed into a short four years of producing multiple hunting TV series and commercial work for outdoor brands as my profession. It’s humbling to think of the places I’ve gotten to visit, outfitters I’ve had the pleasure to work with, and species I’ve pursued in such a short time.

But these last four years have come with a price. Sure, as the “camera guy” we are always being blamed for spooked game and missed shots (it’s only true about half the time); but the higher price is the logistical fact that hunting season is my busy season, and the schedule rarely allows for personal hunting opportunities. As buddy of mine likes to say, “Like hunting?

Then don’t work in the hunting industry.” In fact, I used this as my chief excuse to cover a source of great shame in my life: despite the fact I started bowhunting some ten years ago I still had never killed a whitetail buck. Sure, I’ve filmed grizzlies at close range in Alaska. I’ve been face to face with moose in the Yukon. Stalked screaming elk in Utah and Wyoming. Tracked mule deer in the Sonoran desert and Cape buffalo in Africa. But those were never MY hunts. And on MY hunts, the whitetail buck had always eluded me.

“Not this season!” I told myself, as a glorious hole opened up in my schedule for the 2019 deer season. But where to hunt?

My resources were limited and a hunting lease with friends had already fallen through. That’s when Shannon and I decided WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

176

177

to utilize his ten-acre lot, which has our production studio right in the middle of it. While its size might seem limiting, the convenience factor far outweighed any constraints. I just came into work about four hours early every time the conditions were right, and/or left three hours later - a dream scenario. Rather than the one-off, big adventure trips, I could finally focus on the joy of season-long strategy.

I was proud of myself for passing Rowdy. I had a lot of time left at that point, and some older bucks were still on the radar. But as the season continued, one by one those older bucks stopped showing up on our cameras. Even Rowdy disappeared before November came. If I’m being completely honest, I think I overhunted my ONE spot. While these deer roam large backyards and are accustomed to people, the older bucks still have keen senses and it only takes one bad gust from an errant wind to educate them. Like what happened with the “Mule Deer” buck a couple weeks after I had passed up Rowdy. He was our biggest buck - a freaky, giant mainframe eight with some kickers. I saw him once in person, and that’s all it took. On a foggy November morning he chased a doe into my clearing. Uncharacteristically calm and collected, I drew my bow back and as he started to leave the clearing I bleated to make him stop. He didn’t miss a beat, trotting right out of my life. He didn’t seem to spook, but he had heard enough to realize he’d make a mistake - one he wouldn’t make again. We’ve never seen him since - on cameras or otherwise.

As my presence on the property became more and more distasteful to the older bucks, I dialed back my time in the field - presumably too little too late. In mid November we set up a second hunting spot on the front of Shannon’s property - a treestand along a creek corridor where deer liked to water.

For the sake of being honest, when I say “corridor,” I mean it was the trail deer liked to take as they wandered from yard to yard scouting for who’s landscaping was the tastiest. But I’ll stick with “corridor” because it sounds more official. It was a WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

178

179

convenient patch of sparse trees located in the 150-yard span between the neighbor’s driveway and Shannon’s. After putting up a second camera there, I just watched and waited. It wasn’t until the last week in December that two bucks started coming into the creek on the regular. One of them was Rowdy. The other was the same age as Rowdy, but a 10-point. Because of a trip I had planned I was left with only two more days to hunt for the season. I decided to make a play for Rowdy and let the 10-point live another year to propagate his better genetics. So, on my second-to-last morning, I drove into work four hours early only to find the wind was bad. Trying to play it smart, I waited for the afternoon. That evening the wind was calm, but within the first thirty minutes I had two deer bust from two different directions, so I climbed down before doing any more damage.

One day left. When I started the season by passing on Rowdy, I thought filling my buck tag would be a gimme. Now things were looking bleak.

That morning I decided to leave my camera behind and settle into the stand well before first light. It wasn’t long before a four-legged shadow fed under my tree. I could tell it was a doe, and that she wasn’t fully convinced that everything was copasetic. Nervously she works her way out to 30 yards in front of me. Daybreak seems to be taking its sweet time thanks to the overcast skies, so I check my phone for the time - thirty minutes till sunrise - officially legal shooting light. Not but a couple of minutes later, another shadow emerges ten yards to my right.

I can’t make out his antlers, but I know it’s Rowdy. Why’d he have to come in so early? And why’d I set up a stand so close the trail? I am more than a little anxious that he’ll catch my scent, but I desperately want more light. Surely, I know where to put my arrow on a silhouette, right? Rowdy takes his time foraging around, but after a couple head raises and scent checks I can’t take the pressure. Holding my breath in an attempt to muffle every treasonous sound by sheer force of will (he’s only fifteen yards away on a dead-silent morning), I draw back my bow...only to find that I wished I hadn’t.

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

180

181

Anyone that has ever shot their compound bow in low light knows that the issue is not the ability to see your pins or the target, but it’s seeing either of them THROUGH your peep sight. That blasted little black piece of plastic muddles my entire picture sight. When I try to settle the pin behind Rowdy’s shoulder it’s like aiming into a black hole. What to do? As my arms started to give way to shaking, I am able to identify his head through my peep sight, and by sheer instinct and conjecture I follow the shadow down to where his lungs should be. THWAP. The bow goes off and I hear the smack of an impact. Rowdy scrambles straight toward the neighbor’s boundary line and my stomach sinks. I have NO idea where the arrow hit. Will I need to call one neighbor or four when I go to track him?

I manage to stay in my stand another 20 minutes before climbing down and finding the arrow. It had good blood on, but even after the thirty-yard walk to the neighbor’s property line (there are no fences) I can’t pick up a blood trail. Cue the roller coaster of emotions. “I should have just waited!”, “What was I thinking?” and “I just suck.” After a couple more nervous trips back and forth from my stand to where he crossed into the neighbor’s yard, I finally see it—a set of antlers poking out of the grass just 20 yards further.

Now cue feelings of elation. The glorious moment I’ve been awaiting: to walk up and grab the antlers or my first archery whitetail buck. It might not have been up the Mackenzie Mountains, across Kodiak Island, or on the plains of Africa - it was in all honesty an average deer on a tiny property - but in all my years of hunting there’s an important truth I’ve uncovered: the size of my adventure is proportional to the size of my investment. Sometimes that investment is in dollars. Most of the time it’s in discomfort, as we grind through the backcountry.

But for Rowdy it was time. He represented ten years of pursuit, three months of careful observation and selective management, and at least 6 months of delicious protein for my wife and I, as WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

182

183

we enjoy his provision with humble hearts.

While I couldn’t be more thankful for such an exciting career of capturing adventures and telling stories, like any job it’s hard not to get distracted with day-today to-dos. But here’s to reminding myself to put the camera down from time to time and enjoy my own adventures.

Bowen’s passion for filmmaking has taken him around the world with a variety of TV shows and productions - from Nat Geo to the Outdoor Channel.

Currently, he’s pursuing his lifelong commitment to excellence in his craft with the Cold Collaborative production team based in Central Texas. Whether it’s the backcountry or his backyard, Bowen is drawn to adventures in the outdoors like a moth to a flame.

Find him on Instagram @bp_livewild or @coldcollaborative

WE

WE

HUNTING

ARE

HUNTING

ARE

184

185

DSC’s mission is to ensure the conservation of wildlife through public engagement, education and advocacy for well-regulated hunting and sustainable use.

JOIN US!

DSC Convention February 11-14, 2021

info@biggame.org I www.biggame.org I

Dallas Safari Club I (972) 980-9800