- Joined
- Jan 28, 2003
- Messages
- 13,341
Having spent a bit of time in the African bush I can unequivocally say that of all the dangerous animals I've encountered the most intimidating is the cow elephant. That is NOT to say that all elephants are man crushing maniacs, but when they do get their blood up there is nothing quite so awe inspiring than a charging elephant or herd of charging elephant.
My most memorable elephant encounter occurred in the Zambezi valley of Zimbabwe in the summer of 2004. We had cut the tracks of a dagga boy buffalo bull early that morning. (Literally translated a mud boy or old solo bull, they get their name from their tendency to lie around in mud wallows lazily passing their time in retirement from the herd.). We followed his tracks for roughly 9 hours when we finally decided to give it up as we'd not seen him and had bumped him in the thick stuff several times. The game was up and this old dagga boy was headed for the hills and the safety of the thick forest bush of the foot hills surrounding the Zambezi river.
After a short water break we started the arduous trek back to the hunting trucks parked some 10 miles back. Of course trekking back to the truck is always faster than tracking away from it as you are now moving straight line and not carefully tracking an animal which makes ones pace much faster. As we plodded our way across broken hills and vleys in various cover from open to moderately thick we were enjoying the fresh cool air that was settling into the valley as the sun became lower on the horizon. Birds were calling and monkeys were having their afternoon conversation in the trees above us. The serenity was broken occasionally with sharp barking call of a baboon bull. I was very much enjoying the experience of trekking through some of the most wild country in Africa with a .470NE double rifle in my hands. A feeling of true freedom and sensory enlightenment with all of the sights, smells and sounds of the African bush coursing through my veins.
We negotiated a small ridge and upon breaking out on the backside were treated to a sight that will forever stick in my mind. As we emerged from the trees and brush we found ourselves standing on edge of an estimated 300 acre "vley" (grassy valley). This vley was as flat and open as a huge golf green. It was emerald green in color and covered with fresh grass and clover. Within the boundaries of the vley was a scene straight out of a Hollywood set. The wildlife grazing within the vley was simply astonishing. I'd be lying if I told you I could remember all of the different species of animals grazing there but it was quite a few in variety and number. I can distinctly remember seeing kudu, warthog, impala, zebra, a waterbuck, dik dik, a troop of baboons and in the distance a herd of 6 elephant all peacefully grazing and going about their business.
I was enchanted with the scene before me and was simply enjoying the moment, never wanting it to end, when from behind my trance was disturbed by some excited banter. My friend who with his girlfriend was accompanying me on the hunt had laid eyes upon a very respectable impala ram and was interested in harvesting him. We had discussed potting an impala earlier on the trek home as we needed the meat and my friend was keen on having the trophy. Shooting sticks were placed and my friend rested his .458 Lott on them and took aim at the ram. In the background I could faintly hear one of the PH's and a tracker discussing something in Shona. I couldn't understand the conversation but I heard the word "nzou" (elephant) mentioned several times. The PH was just getting ready to ask my buddy to not shoot when my buddy squeezed the trigger and the muzzle blast from his .458 Lott shattered the serenity of the afternoon. The impala ram bucked hard as the 500 grain Woodleigh solid took him perfectly through the chest, and the entire vley exploded with alarmed animals desperately dashing to the safety of the surrounding bush. I watched as the ram scramled off for about 100 yards before collapsing.
In the distance approximately 500 yards away the herd of elephant that had been peacefully browsing caught my eye. At the shot, they immediately bunched together into a tight V formation and with the matriarch in the lead started to come hard and fast in our direction. I figured at first that they were simply confused and would break off as soon as they realized where we were. My buddy and his girlfriend excitedly started to head towards his downed ram. In his concentration with the shot, he was unaware of the drama that was unfolding and rapidly coming our way. I stayed back and watched the elephant who were now closing at a disturbingly fast pace. The PH sprinted forward and caught my buddy by the shoulder pulling him back to the safety of the group. The elephant were now approximately 100 yards away and closing. I remember thinking that this was getting mildly serious, I slid the top lever on my double open, pulled the soft point bullet out of the right barrel flung it away, replaced it with a solid and slammed the action shut. I was now loaded with two solids just in case this turned into a gunnery exercise. It was about this time that the PH started to shout at the elephant and wave his rifle in the air, a standard procedure to let the elephant know where we were and that we were humans. 99% of the time elephant will veer off as soon as they hear your voice.
These old girls had a different idea of how they were going to handle these puny humans. Upon hearing the voice they immediately spread out into a loose abreast formation and accelerated their charge. This situation had just gone from interesting to, exciting! It was just at that moment that the PH in his cut tone and polite Rhodesian manner mentioned that we should RUN!! And RUN we did, I was holding back a bit to provide cover for my buddy who was taking up the rear of the group with his girlfriend. The matriarch now about 50 yards distant let out a shrill blasting trumpet. My buddies girlfriend immediately dove to the ground behind a small bush. Whether she acted from terror or clumsiness is unknown but once she hit the ground she froze in panic and found herself unable to move.
I skidded to a stop and immediately brought my double to my shoulder, snapped off the safety and placed the front bead comfortably in the shallow British rear v and placed it squarely on the rapidly growing, grey wrinkled forehead of the lead cow. To my right I heard our PH very calmly state "That won't do". He reversed course, made a beautifully athletic advance, with double rifle in one hand, grabbing the poor terrified girlfriend by the collar of her coat with his free hand, lifted her up to her feet with and quickly resumed sprinting, with her in tow towards the relative safety of the nearby trees. I wasted no time in following. The elephant , having proved their superiority brushed by at close range. trumpeted a victory blast and continued off into the bush nosily breaking branches and trumpeting as they went.
Everybody checked themselves and were unhurt if not a bit shaken. We regrouped and collected our impala ram, the liver was cut out and lightly blackened over a quick fire and we enjoyed the succulent meat which provided us the extra boost we needed for the last several hours of trekking to the truck. Our prized trophy now cut up and the load shared amongst the group. We reached base camp late that night an enjoyed fresh impala skillets and rejoiced in the happenings of the day. The story being told and retold with greater fervor as the night went on and the whiskey bottle perceptively emptied with each telling. There is no place on earth quite like the African bush. And there is nothing quite like a determined group of elephant cows to freshen the senses.
My most memorable elephant encounter occurred in the Zambezi valley of Zimbabwe in the summer of 2004. We had cut the tracks of a dagga boy buffalo bull early that morning. (Literally translated a mud boy or old solo bull, they get their name from their tendency to lie around in mud wallows lazily passing their time in retirement from the herd.). We followed his tracks for roughly 9 hours when we finally decided to give it up as we'd not seen him and had bumped him in the thick stuff several times. The game was up and this old dagga boy was headed for the hills and the safety of the thick forest bush of the foot hills surrounding the Zambezi river.
After a short water break we started the arduous trek back to the hunting trucks parked some 10 miles back. Of course trekking back to the truck is always faster than tracking away from it as you are now moving straight line and not carefully tracking an animal which makes ones pace much faster. As we plodded our way across broken hills and vleys in various cover from open to moderately thick we were enjoying the fresh cool air that was settling into the valley as the sun became lower on the horizon. Birds were calling and monkeys were having their afternoon conversation in the trees above us. The serenity was broken occasionally with sharp barking call of a baboon bull. I was very much enjoying the experience of trekking through some of the most wild country in Africa with a .470NE double rifle in my hands. A feeling of true freedom and sensory enlightenment with all of the sights, smells and sounds of the African bush coursing through my veins.
We negotiated a small ridge and upon breaking out on the backside were treated to a sight that will forever stick in my mind. As we emerged from the trees and brush we found ourselves standing on edge of an estimated 300 acre "vley" (grassy valley). This vley was as flat and open as a huge golf green. It was emerald green in color and covered with fresh grass and clover. Within the boundaries of the vley was a scene straight out of a Hollywood set. The wildlife grazing within the vley was simply astonishing. I'd be lying if I told you I could remember all of the different species of animals grazing there but it was quite a few in variety and number. I can distinctly remember seeing kudu, warthog, impala, zebra, a waterbuck, dik dik, a troop of baboons and in the distance a herd of 6 elephant all peacefully grazing and going about their business.
I was enchanted with the scene before me and was simply enjoying the moment, never wanting it to end, when from behind my trance was disturbed by some excited banter. My friend who with his girlfriend was accompanying me on the hunt had laid eyes upon a very respectable impala ram and was interested in harvesting him. We had discussed potting an impala earlier on the trek home as we needed the meat and my friend was keen on having the trophy. Shooting sticks were placed and my friend rested his .458 Lott on them and took aim at the ram. In the background I could faintly hear one of the PH's and a tracker discussing something in Shona. I couldn't understand the conversation but I heard the word "nzou" (elephant) mentioned several times. The PH was just getting ready to ask my buddy to not shoot when my buddy squeezed the trigger and the muzzle blast from his .458 Lott shattered the serenity of the afternoon. The impala ram bucked hard as the 500 grain Woodleigh solid took him perfectly through the chest, and the entire vley exploded with alarmed animals desperately dashing to the safety of the surrounding bush. I watched as the ram scramled off for about 100 yards before collapsing.
In the distance approximately 500 yards away the herd of elephant that had been peacefully browsing caught my eye. At the shot, they immediately bunched together into a tight V formation and with the matriarch in the lead started to come hard and fast in our direction. I figured at first that they were simply confused and would break off as soon as they realized where we were. My buddy and his girlfriend excitedly started to head towards his downed ram. In his concentration with the shot, he was unaware of the drama that was unfolding and rapidly coming our way. I stayed back and watched the elephant who were now closing at a disturbingly fast pace. The PH sprinted forward and caught my buddy by the shoulder pulling him back to the safety of the group. The elephant were now approximately 100 yards away and closing. I remember thinking that this was getting mildly serious, I slid the top lever on my double open, pulled the soft point bullet out of the right barrel flung it away, replaced it with a solid and slammed the action shut. I was now loaded with two solids just in case this turned into a gunnery exercise. It was about this time that the PH started to shout at the elephant and wave his rifle in the air, a standard procedure to let the elephant know where we were and that we were humans. 99% of the time elephant will veer off as soon as they hear your voice.
These old girls had a different idea of how they were going to handle these puny humans. Upon hearing the voice they immediately spread out into a loose abreast formation and accelerated their charge. This situation had just gone from interesting to, exciting! It was just at that moment that the PH in his cut tone and polite Rhodesian manner mentioned that we should RUN!! And RUN we did, I was holding back a bit to provide cover for my buddy who was taking up the rear of the group with his girlfriend. The matriarch now about 50 yards distant let out a shrill blasting trumpet. My buddies girlfriend immediately dove to the ground behind a small bush. Whether she acted from terror or clumsiness is unknown but once she hit the ground she froze in panic and found herself unable to move.
I skidded to a stop and immediately brought my double to my shoulder, snapped off the safety and placed the front bead comfortably in the shallow British rear v and placed it squarely on the rapidly growing, grey wrinkled forehead of the lead cow. To my right I heard our PH very calmly state "That won't do". He reversed course, made a beautifully athletic advance, with double rifle in one hand, grabbing the poor terrified girlfriend by the collar of her coat with his free hand, lifted her up to her feet with and quickly resumed sprinting, with her in tow towards the relative safety of the nearby trees. I wasted no time in following. The elephant , having proved their superiority brushed by at close range. trumpeted a victory blast and continued off into the bush nosily breaking branches and trumpeting as they went.
Everybody checked themselves and were unhurt if not a bit shaken. We regrouped and collected our impala ram, the liver was cut out and lightly blackened over a quick fire and we enjoyed the succulent meat which provided us the extra boost we needed for the last several hours of trekking to the truck. Our prized trophy now cut up and the load shared amongst the group. We reached base camp late that night an enjoyed fresh impala skillets and rejoiced in the happenings of the day. The story being told and retold with greater fervor as the night went on and the whiskey bottle perceptively emptied with each telling. There is no place on earth quite like the African bush. And there is nothing quite like a determined group of elephant cows to freshen the senses.
Last edited:
