Last day buff and very nearly the last day of my short young life.
I’ll start this off by telling you the end first. After it was all over and we settled down to a easy heart rate of 150 or so and my hands had gone from steady to adrenaline let off shakes extraordinaire. My Ph looked at me with a distant gaze and simply stated “in 12 years of professional hunting I’ve only had two serious buffalo charges and they’ve both been in the last two week and in both cases if the client hadn’t had a double someone would have got killedâ€. He then looked at the ground and said “that’s as close as I’ve come, we damn near got sorted“.
The statement didn’t need to be made for my sake I was well aware of just how close we’d come to meeting the great PH in the sky. Sometimes in buffalo hunting or in any kind of dangerous game hunting things happen and they happen so fast that you only have time to react or your gonna get hurt or killed real bad. This was one of those rare yet not unheard of situations. Just the day before we’d been talking about what a horrible year it has been for accidents just last month Niki Atcheson got nailed by a buff not 20 miles from this concession she was very near killed and still recovering in the hospital. Last week a client was charged and killed while buffalo hunting with another outfit in Africa (I am not at liberty to say who or where as the official reports are not yet finished.) And a famous PH from Botswana was nailed and crippled up severely three weeks ago in the Okavango delta. It’s been a bad year for buff hunters.
We had cut tracks from two massive footed old dugga boys at about 07:00. And had a visual contact with them shortly afterward. It had just been a brief glimpse but we liked what we’d seen. The tracking process began in some of the nastiest thickest thorn and jesse I’d ever seen. After an hour or so we regained visual contact with the two buffalo and proceeded to stalk them in the thick stuff. One foot at a time scraping dead leaves out of the way before stepping trying to muffle the layer of cornflake like dry leaves which covered the ground. We were almost into position to take a shot when one of the buff spooked and they both thundered off into the Jesse snorting and crashing branches as they went. Their spoor indicated that they’d only run for some 100 yards or so then settled back into a comfortable walk and soon after proceeded to browse on the plentiful trees and vines in the area.
Another hour and we once again had caught up to the buffalo, they’d settled into a nice thick patch of mixed thorn and vine and trees that was all but impenetrable to a man much less so with any stealth.
There was however one option that presented itself. A dry river bed circumnavigated the nasty Jesse and allowed us to silently run past the buffalo and get in front of them. We did so and were able to climb up the side of a mud embankment giving us a height and vision advantage. Now all we had to do was wait. The minutes turned into what seemed like hours before Cindisou the Matabelle tracker spotted the first gray shape start to materialize out of the tangled jungle below. First an ear then a leg then a set of bosses finally a whole buffalo. But it was not the right one we were waiting for a grizzled old warrior we’d seen earlier in the day. As the first buffalo faded past and disappeared Lance leaned over and whispered “when your boy comes he’ll cross right where the other one did if he gives you a shot take it and mind the brush we don’t need a wounded buff in this hell hole.†I looked into the now vacant spot my only shot was through a lane about 4 feet around and about 100 yards or so down into the flat.
Soon another gray shape started to materialize, he stood with just his head exposed for a long time then finally stepped into the clearing giving me a hard quartering on shot to the shoulder. My .470NE was already in position and I had a solid and steady rest on my knees. Before I shot Lance said if he doesn’t go down give him the other barrel quickly we don’t want trouble in here.
The front sight rested in the shallow V of the rear sight I took a deep breath and let it half out steady as a rock squeezed the rear trigger. Even in the recoil I could see that the 500Gr Barnes x had struck pay dirt, with a puff of dust and a thwack the buff hunched up hard and charged into the thicket ahead I was just able to give him the second barrel as he was disappearing into the Jesse he was quartering hard away. The 500gr solid hit him just at the last rib and raked into his lungs stopping in under the skin of the neck on the off side.
Lance looked up at me and said "it looked good lets give him some time and we’ll go collect him". We sat for approximately 20 minutes.We could hear the buffalo standing and breathing heavily not 50 yards from his original position but the thickness of the foliage keep us from seeing him he was obviously hit hard and and the wound mortal.
The next thing I remember is walking into the Jesse two solids in the spout and two in my left hand rifle shouldered walking very slowly very cautiously every nerve ending is alive all of your senses are magnified 10 fold. I’ve experienced this feeling before with buffalo but this was very intense and it’s very fresh in my mind as it happened only 4 days ago. Suddenly to our right we hear the bull crashing around and we turned just in time to see his dim shape through the brush he’s laying down. Good news we think we turn to close the gap on him. At about 15 yards lance is just able to make out the bulls head. He says he got a shot I tell him to take it. I’m thinking that we need to end this before it gets serious I’ve long lost my desire to be the sole shooter on dangerous game in a situation like this you’re playing for keeps. Diamonds are forever but back up shots save lives.
At the shot the bull snorts a vicious low bellow from his gut and he’s coming fast and furious. Both lance and I shoot simultaneously hitting the bull square in the chest with over 10,000ftlbs of combined energy and .940†of combined diameter, 1000grs of .470 bullets strike the bull square in the chest. It has no apparent affect on the bull he doesn't even flinch. Lance drops off to my right with an empty gun. I charge to my left And remember clearly hearing the ejectors from lances double ping open. The bull is just clearing the Thorn bush that has separated a direct line from him to us I wait his as front half clears the brush, at that moment the bull is ducking his head preparing to toss me I see where the shoulder and neck meet and snap off my right barrel. The bull collapses into a heap my second barrel has broken the bulls spine at the junction of the shoulder and the neck. I continue my left dodge and reload on the dash pinging two empties over my right arm and dunking two more solids into the smoking breeches. The bull is struggling to get up lance is requesting for me to "shoot him again" For a moment I mezmorized at the sight and smell and sound and the extreme proximity of the bull. I calmly raised the big double and send a final solid through his neck behind the ear. The bulls head settles into the ground and he releases his last breath .
On post mortem we found that both of my first two shots crossed the boiler room but both passed behind the heart . We recovered my first bullet a 500gr X in the opposite flank just forward of the hind quarter. His lungs looked like Swiss cheese. 25 minutes later he still had enough stuff left to very nearly end all of our troubles. At Lances first shot the bullet had deflected on some sticks and had pierced the bulls ear and burned his neck with a graze. (The raised welt is clearly visable in the picture below.)That set the bull into motion. Lances second shot and my first were about an inche apart and both struck the bull in the middle of the chest to low to hit the spine and my final shot broke the bulls back putting him down.
On closer inspection we found that this old dugga boy was no stranger to mortal combat with man, his left eye was missing and the socket was long healed over he also had an old scar just below the eye and his molars had been shot out the wound was most likely an old musket ball from a poacher in the distant past. But the funny thing is minus the charge I had a very similar experience with a an old bull that we dug a musket ball out of in Tanzania three years ago.
Later in the evening lance and I sat around the camp fire and discussed the days events . He simply shook his head and said some times these damn things seem bloody bullet proof. I have to agree.
I JUST NOTICED SOMETHING VERY INTRESTING ON THIS PICTURE...!!You can clearly see the long raised welt up the side of the bulls neck just above the "finisher bullet hole" bot look at the ear out towards the tip that is the bullet hole from Lances first shot through the brush. Notice the outline of the hole the bullet hit prefectly sideways (Straight up and down)!!!
Watch them sticks boys and girls they do bad things to bullets..
