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Author Topic: A tale of two Buff  (Read 1177 times)

Offline A Lex

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A tale of two Buff
« on: December 21, 2022, 05:27:41 AM »
Well, I haven't been hunting for so long, so here's a wee tale of a bygone day.

Hope you enjoy....cause I sure did.

I remember it like it was yesterday.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had had this trip back to The Territory planned for quite a while, but had to juggle the timing to fit with both mine and my mate Ben’s work schedules. I was chomping at the bit to go though, I absolutely love that wild country up there.

I was also keen to see the country in a different season. Each time I've been before, it has been in the end of the "Dry Season”. Very hot, plenty of trees, but mainly bare dirt, dust and noisy dry leaves under foot, precious little ground cover either. Hard hunting conditions.

This time I was going be there at the end of the " Wet Season", so there would be plenty of grass, water and green foliage everywhere. Still hard hunting, but in a different way, and still excellent exciting fun. It would still be warm too, but without the Dry Seasons savage withering heat.

Come what may, I had no doubt it would be a fantastic trip. Time has a different meaning up there. The pace of life seems a little slower. I would be at peace, spending time in the bush, and I will be richer for it. I would get to spend some time with my good mate who I haven't seen for quite a while, and also get another opportunity to hunt Buffalo with my longbow. Hopefully I’d get to again pit my wits against an old bush wise warrior Bull.

That's very addictive.

Well, after nearly two days of travelling, counting lay overs and the obligatory waiting for various connecting plane flights, long distance bus rides and a few hours of travel by four wheel drive, I’d finally made it to my mates place in Arnhem Land. It sure is a long long way from my home in Tasmania, Australia’s smallest and most southern state. Australia certainly is a big country.

The next day was spent giving Ben and his lovely wife a hand catching up on chores around the house and yard. The major one was to tame the wet season growth of the lawn. The idea was to get the lawns pruned before the heat of the day really kicked in, then we would clean up a few smaller jobs, thus allowing us to concentrate on getting ready to head out later the next day.

Our plan was to head out to a certain creek system tomorrow afternoon, camp the night, and then do some hunting the morning after that.

I was super keen.

So, the following afternoon, we loaded up the Troopy and headed out. We bumped and bounced along for over two hours, covering about twenty odd kilometres on an indistinct bush track. This track had obviously had little use so far this year. In the middle of the “Wet Season” up here, due to copious amounts of tropical rain, and all the associated water laying about, all these bush tracks, and even many of the main roads up here, are pretty much impassable.

This time of year though, the very tail end of the “Wet”, the tracks are starting to dry out fairly quickly. However there were still a few soft boggy places that needed a walk-through look-see before we would attempt to proceed. There were a few fallen trees and wash outs across the track, not to mention the occasional pig hole to miss. To add to the challenge, much of the track was overgrown with chest high spear grass too. We also had a number of interesting creek crossings on the way out. Logs and branches washed down in the floods to be moved aside, rocks and the like put into holes to help us get across, and steep sandy banks both in and out of the creeks to deal with. I’m now fairly impressed with the Landcruiser Troop Carrier as a four wheel drive. Ben’s a pretty handy lad behind the wheel of a Troopy too.

Upon arrival at our intended spot, we set up a quick rough camp beside a creek, rummaged around for some firewood, and got a good campfire happening. Dinner was basic but good, sausages wrapped in bread, doused with tomato sauce, washed down with some Still Adams Ale (water) from the cooler. Now that might sound like a pretty average sort of a feed, but I can assure you, those sausages cooked on an open fire, in the wilds of the Northern Territory, left fine five star dining way behind.

The evenings entertainment support act turned up right as dinner was about ready. We had to grab the rifle, just in case, and have stern words to a young buffalo bull that decided he was going to wander through our camp. The rifle wasn’t needed, although the young bull did need more than just a little convincing to change his path. You won’t see that sort of thing at a fancy restaurant.

After dinner, the real show began. We settled back to watch the sunset and to wait on the stars. What an absolutely awesome display our creator turned on. As the day ended with the sun settling behind the horizon, the skies brilliant daytime blues transformed into magnificent swirls of wild oranges and reds, golds and pinks, with ribbons of purple splashed throughout the western heavens.

The skies just got better and better the darker they became. What started off as a tiny single dot of fuzzy light, high in the eastern sky, multiplied slowly into an unbelievable blanket of brilliant sparkling diamonds, strewn with exquisite care across a black velvet backdrop. Single stars, groups of stars, big stars, small stars, the Milky Way, the Southern Cross. Stars, from horizon to horizon, crystal clear and amazing.  It was truly a magnificent sight.

Earlier that afternoon, while loading up to leave on this adventure, in my eagerness I had somehow forgotten to toss in a can of “Bushman”, a very effective insect repellent that contains copious amounts of “Deet”. Now I was paying for that momentarily lapse of thought. The sand flies and mosquitoes were having a field day at my expense. The joy of the night sky, as exceptional as it was, was slowly being eroded by the multitude of biting insects. So at a bit after nine o’clock we called it a night. We hit the swags and tried to get some sleep.

But sleep was somewhat elusive that night. With the days residual heat, the mozzies whining around my ears, and the excitement of what tomorrow might bring, sleep didn’t come easy. The many night calls of Dingos, Scrub Cattle, Donkey’s and Buffalo certainly didn’t help either.

More to come...........
Good hunting to you all.
May the wind be your friend, and may your arrows fly true,
Most of all, may the appreciation and the gratitude of what we do keep us humble......

Offline A Lex

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Re: A tale of two Buff
« Reply #1 on: December 21, 2022, 05:40:31 AM »
However the night passed and it was soon morning. We crawled out of our swags, albeit a bit bleary-eyed from the poor nights rest. But it was that really special time of the morning, when it’s still sort of dark, but the eastern sky is beginning to blush. The morning was still and clear, warm and full of promise. It  was the type of morning that quickly makes you forget the broken sleep of the previous night, and it looked like it was going to be another cracker of a day.  

Watching the dark sky slowly dissolve into a myriad of colours, then gradually meld into that lovely clear sky blue as the sun rose was yet another treat. Likewise was listening to natures music, the sounds of the birds and the bush waking up and greeting a new day.

Man I love it here! I was at peace.

A quick stroll into the trees to answer the early morning call of nature also revealed where a few wild pigs had been digging during the night too, right at the edge of our camp. Cheeky beggars. Never heard them or laid eyes on the culprits either.

We had heard a scrub bulls low moan a couple of times, just over the rise, so Ben loaded his big 500 Jeffery back-up rifle, while I strung my 75lb longbow and checked my broadheads. We each grabbed a big bottle of water from the cooler and a handful of muesli bars, loaded our day packs, and then quietly set off up along the creek for a look.

We never did locate that moaning scrubber, but we had barely left camp when we did find a nice buffalo bull.

Well actually, he found us. No more than two hundred meters from camp, he just walked up out of the creek and caught us pretty much out in the open. As soon as we saw him coming up the bank, we quickly knelt in what little scrub there was. There really wasn’t much cover here, but as luck would have it, he wandered up to less than twenty meters away.

He was there, well within range of me and my longbow for a short while, but there was no real opportunity for a shot, which was actually quite okay by me. I don’t think I really wanted him. He was a nice representative bull, but it was too early in the day, and even if a shot was offered, I don’t think I would have taken it, it would have been too easy. He must have caught a whiff of us or saw us or something, because soon after he spooked and crashed away into the bush.

Still, it was exciting, and what a great start to the day. We continued on, eager to find what else this creek had to show us.

It turned out to be a bushy maze of channels, sand islands and deep water washed gutters. Some of the scrub was a bit spindly, but there was plenty of heavier brush too, and any amount of trees and deep shady cover to hide buffalo. In the Dry season, apparently this creek dries up to just a few muddy pools. But it was not the Dry, it was the end of the Wet, and today there was plenty of water to be found in the many twisting winding channels.

As we wound our way through this sandy shady maze, searching for buffalo or perhaps a wild boar, we heard the sounds of something heavy splashing in the water.

Taking advantage of the slight breeze that had come up, we quietly investigated. It turned out to be a small mob of about seven or eight buffalo, with two of them wallowing in the creek. It looked like only cows and calves and maybe a couple of immature bulls. We gently closed in for a better look, and two or three times we were less than 15 meters from them. But we found no mature bulls satelliting this little mob, so undetected, we backed out and let them be.

After we had gone another half a k or so, we spotted a lone buffalo bull amongst the bush in the creek bottom. He was about 150 meters away, and he was a big solid mature bull. This was more like it. Neither Ben nor I needed much convincing at all, we had to try for this guy, he was a ripper. We took off our shoes, stowed them in our day-packs, checked the breeze and eased, bare foot, down into a steep sided gutter.

From up on the bank where we first spotted him, the bush between us and the bull looked reasonable, but once we were down in the creek bottom proper, it was different. It was well shaded, but not as quite as thick as we thought. There was enough cover, just, but it certainly wasn’t an easy stalk. Ever watchful of the breeze, and by using the washout gutters, the sand banks and every bit of bush to our advantage, cautiously and quietly, we inched closer.

It was slow going. We watched him intently, and by gently moving when we thought we could get away with it, and over half an hour later, bit by bit we had closed in to about thirty meters.

More soon.....
Good hunting to you all.
May the wind be your friend, and may your arrows fly true,
Most of all, may the appreciation and the gratitude of what we do keep us humble......

Offline A Lex

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Re: A tale of two Buff
« Reply #2 on: December 21, 2022, 05:42:06 AM »
Just thirty meters away, still too far though. Slowly slowly, under some low hanging branches we crept, and gently edged up to a pile of debris left by the falling Wet season waters.

Now twenty meters, but no shot in this cover. Got to get closer.

Hunched right over and still undetected by the bull, we eased through a shallow channel of water, and soundlessly crawled in behind some leafy brush, ending up no more than fifteen meters from him. Now we were close. I could really feel my heart pumping with excitement as we knelt there in the sand.

Now, without spooking him, could we find somewhere in this stuff for clear shot? That was the next challenge. Just how close will we have to get?

It was about then that he realized something wasn’t quite right. He turned towards where we were kneeling behind the scrub, laid those big heavy horns back as he lifted his head, stuck out that big nose and sniffed, hard.

He’s noticed something alright, but didn’t really know what. The eyes might deceive, but the nose never does.

“That’s buggered it” I thought, “He’ll bolt now”

But he didn’t. He hadn’t caught our scent, the breeze was still in our favour.

Head high and nose out he took a step towards us. I had my bow up ready and some tension on the string. There was a fair bit of excited tension in Ben and me too. The bull came on a couple more stiff legged steps and again paused. Out the corner of my eye, I could see Ben had his rifle lined up.

The bull again slowly advanced. He stopped about ten meters from us, just on the other side of the scrubby cover that concealed us from his scrutiny and prevented me from getting a shot. Holy smoke he’s big, look at the size of that neck, it’s as big around as a forty four gallon drum.

For about thirty seconds he just stood there, facing us through the bush, nose up and unmoving.

Ten meters......
Good hunting to you all.
May the wind be your friend, and may your arrows fly true,
Most of all, may the appreciation and the gratitude of what we do keep us humble......

Offline A Lex

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Re: A tale of two Buff
« Reply #3 on: December 21, 2022, 05:43:25 AM »
My pulse rate then lifted a few more notches as he began to come around the bush. I moved a little to start to draw, anticipating a frontal shot as he cleared the scrub, but maybe he saw that small movement, because he stopped. No shot, still too much scrub interference. He stepped back behind the bush and resumed that alert, facing us, head up nose out stance.

We were there like that for I don’t know how long, a couple of minutes maybe, bow up, waiting. Twice more, he’d start to move, I’d go to draw, he’d stop, and I’d ease off the tension on the string.

It’s real exciting stuff being so close to such a big, wild, unpredictable animal. Especially when he’s suspicious, when he thinks something is not quite right. Good thing the breeze was staying true, because we were literally right under his nose. This is a really good bull, and he’s so bloody close. Surely he can hear my heart pounding. It feels like it is going to leap out of my chest.

Would I get a shot at this guy? I didn’t know. He certainly thinks something is here, but he’s definitely not retreating. He’s actually acting quite assertive, even a tad aggressive.

After what seemed like ages, the bull moved a soundless couple of steps to my left and stopped broadside. He was still partly behind the spindly leafy thicket, but the front of his ribs and the sweet spot over his heart was clear.

Here was the opportunity I’d been working for, hoping for.

On my knees and crouched over in the creek, everything seemed to happen without conscious thought. I picked a tiny point over his heart and came back easily to full draw. I held it there for a second, focusing on the spot, then let the string slip smoothly off my fingers. There was the soft “thud” of my longbow, and I watched my heavy wooden arrow fly beautifully, perfectly, just a spinning ball of feathers, sailing across that short gap.

It hit that bull exactly where I was looking and sliced in deep, penetrating almost to the feathers.

Those countless hours of preparation and practice for this very moment just paid off.

Ben and I both knew it was a really good hit. That bull wasn’t going far. We watched as he wheeled away and trotted off thirty or forty meters through the creek bottom brush. He went to go up a steep bank, but his hind quarters gave a wobble. He stopped, staggered a bit, then fell over and rolled back down the bank. That was it, he didn’t move again. Dead in less than twenty seconds, and in sight too.

Wow. What a stalk, turned out to be eleven paces. What fantastic fun. Ben and I had a grin from ear to ear. That was real heart pounding exciting stuff.

It really is amazing what a wooden arrow and a good sharp broadhead will do. A single one, put in the right place, had put down this huge bull, quickly and cleanly.

Through the trees and scrubby creek bush, we could make out his indistinct dark bulk laying in the vegetation. This, along with a single big old horn pointing skywards, marked exactly where the Buffalo was. We gave him ten minutes to make sure, then went to check him out. There was no need to follow the very obvious blood trail.

We approached carefully, but could see no evidence of movement. Never the less, I still carefully reached over from behind and touched his open eye with the out-stretched tip of my longbow. There was no response. The eye was glazed over and lifeless. The buffalo’s spirit was gone.

I let out a breath that I’d been holding for about a week, and just stared at this mighty massive animal. It’s size was every bit as impressive in death as it was in life.

Ben opened the bolt of his rifle and held out his hand. “Bloody well done mate” he said, “Wow, that was exciting hey? I don’t know if I’d a had that sort of self control to wait like you did. Great shot!”

I knelt down beside the bull, this fallen warrior, and laid my hand gently on his big mud covered face. I had tears running down my cheeks as I was saying sorry, and goodbye, and thank you, all at the same time. It was that roller coaster of feelings we hunters get, an amazing but strange blend of emotions, great joy, genuine sadness, and sincere respect for this animal who’s life I have just taken.

I’ve never been able to really explain those feelings to people who don’t hunt, I guess only those who have experienced them can truly understand.

Ben knows.

After some time reflecting and soaking in all the events, we started work. We had a lot to do now, the day was quickly warming up, and it was only going to get a lot hotter. We took some good photo's, then got the knives out and started to remove the meat and head.

I asked Ben to get my knife steel out of my pack which was about five meters away. He was fishing around in my pack and I was kneeling down working on the buffalo, then we both heard something.........
Good hunting to you all.
May the wind be your friend, and may your arrows fly true,
Most of all, may the appreciation and the gratitude of what we do keep us humble......

Offline A Lex

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Re: A tale of two Buff
« Reply #4 on: December 21, 2022, 05:47:39 AM »
I looked up and saw another buffalo bull less than three meters away, coming down the steep bushy bank towards me, and he was not looking happy. Oh spit, this isn’t good.  “hoy, Hoy, HOY” I called at the bull. Ben looked up as I called and instantly lifted the rifle. I simply said "Hit him”.

Ben fired and brained this bull. It just crumpled, then tumbled down the embankment. Good thing too, less than three meters from a grumpy buffalo bull is waaay too close. If Ben hadn't dropped that bull on the spot, we were going to be in real trouble. It had nowhere else to go except straight through us. And that was most likely, because loud and clear, this bull‘s body language said “Watch out”.

My ears were ringing from the close range muzzle blast from the big 500, but I didn’t care. A situation like that could have very easily ended much worse. Ringing ears are nothing.

Ben quickly stepped up and gave the bull another shot for insurance. He checked it was really truly dead, reloaded the rifles magazine, and then turned and just looked at me, wide-eyed.

“Did that really just happen?" he said, "Wow! That was intense”.

I’ll bet my eyes were like saucers too.

The two bulls lay barely two meters apart.

We pieced things together and were pretty sure this bull and my bull had been fighting earlier. Both were obviously quite knocked around, with plenty of fresh horn wounds, scrapes and bruising on each. No wonder my bull had advanced towards us, he wasn’t going to retreat, he was still in agro mode. The second bull was probably coming back for round two. He really was looking for trouble.

We recovered our senses and finished the butchering. But the rifle stayed right beside us, loaded and on safe, until we finished. Just in case.

Loading up with all we could carry, we picked a bit of a path that eventually led us back through the maze of the creek bottom, back out into the more open bush country. Heavily laden, we slowly but happily trudged back into camp a good hour or so later. The adrenaline rush had worn off by now, but we were both still wearing a big grin.

Now the day was getting hot though, so getting back and lowering our loads felt really good. We had a well earned rest and a cool drink. Then we packed up all the camp gear, loaded the “Troopy” and started heading for home.

What a day, and what an experience! This hunt will most certainly remain with me for the rest of my life. And I will always remember both those Buffalo’s spirits.

On the way back we saw a few more buffalo. One of them was an exceptional old bull, heavy heavy horns and a good spread. But Ben and I both agreed we’d had enough excitement for one day, so we just sat in the shade for a while, and took great pleasure in simply observing one of these marvellous beasts.

Maybe another day we would try to find him, although out here in the vastness of The Territory, in truth we would probably never ever see him again.

And that’s okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well that's all to this tale folks

Hope you enjoyed it

Best
Lex
Good hunting to you all.
May the wind be your friend, and may your arrows fly true,
Most of all, may the appreciation and the gratitude of what we do keep us humble......

Offline Hunter74

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Re: A tale of two Buff
« Reply #5 on: December 21, 2022, 06:52:07 AM »
Great story A Lex, very much enjoyed that!

I’m curious with the way things are going these day’s are you able to still hunt this territory? Can you still carry a backup rifle with you?
What would it take for an American to come hunt the bush with a bow?

Online MCNSC

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Re: A tale of two Buff
« Reply #6 on: December 21, 2022, 07:32:37 AM »
Thanks for sharing, congratulations on the bulls . Exciting hunt, I was holding my breath too. 
"What was big was not the trout, but the chance. What was full was not my creel, but my memory"
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Online rastaman

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Re: A tale of two Buff
« Reply #7 on: December 21, 2022, 09:56:31 AM »
Good write-up of a great hunt Alexander! Thanks for sharing it! :thumbsup: :thumbsup:
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Offline KAZ

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Re: A tale of two Buff
« Reply #8 on: December 21, 2022, 10:24:39 AM »
Wonderful story and memory, thank you :clapper: :campfire:

Online MnFn

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Re: A tale of two Buff
« Reply #9 on: December 21, 2022, 11:17:40 AM »
That was great!  You are a very good writer/story teller.
I love reading this type of stuff, and you did it very well.
"By the looks of his footprint he must be a big fella"  Marge Gunderson (Fargo)
 
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Online MnFn

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Re: A tale of two Buff
« Reply #10 on: December 21, 2022, 11:20:39 AM »
But, no photos?
"By the looks of his footprint he must be a big fella"  Marge Gunderson (Fargo)
 
"Ain't no rock going to take my place". Luke 19:40

Online durp

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Re: A tale of two Buff
« Reply #11 on: December 21, 2022, 12:24:11 PM »
Lex...Hoy my butt, I know I would have had something else to say!!!...had me holding my breath too...really enjoyed all the details, sure painted a realistic picture  :clapper: :clapper: :clapper:

Offline A Lex

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Re: A tale of two Buff
« Reply #12 on: December 21, 2022, 04:48:12 PM »
Thanks for the kind words guys and gal's.

MnFn, sorry for the lack of images, I lost most of my photos etc when my computer pooped itself a year or so back. But I haven't lost the memories, I can still recall it all. And it still makes me smile.

It was a great time, although I could not have done it without Ben. He's a top bloke and a very good hunter (good shot too). Great attitude, great eyesight and seems to have a sixth sense about where to find what we were looking for. He had the unique opportunity to hunt this particular area, and he shared that opportunity with me, for which I am ever so very greatful.

Haven't seen him for too long, would love to catch up again soon.

Merry Christmas to you all......

Best
Lex
Good hunting to you all.
May the wind be your friend, and may your arrows fly true,
Most of all, may the appreciation and the gratitude of what we do keep us humble......

Online matt steed

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Re: A tale of two Buff
« Reply #13 on: December 21, 2022, 04:51:44 PM »
Thank you for this great story. Congratulations on this fine hunt.

Amazing.
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Offline Wudstix

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Re: A tale of two Buff
« Reply #14 on: December 21, 2022, 05:34:29 PM »
Lex thanks for taking me/us along with you into the bush.  Heavy wood shafts can get it done, for sure.  I'll probably never get down your way, but will have this story.
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Offline Doug Treat

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Re: A tale of two Buff
« Reply #15 on: December 22, 2022, 01:44:29 AM »
Great read! Thanks for that. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Offline mj seratt

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Re: A tale of two Buff
« Reply #16 on: December 22, 2022, 04:18:57 AM »
Great story, and wonderfully told.  Please keep the hunting tales coming.

Murray
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Offline JgRg1215

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Re: A tale of two Buff
« Reply #17 on: December 22, 2022, 08:21:45 PM »
I read this story today and felt like I was right there. Hunting Buff like that would be one of my dream hunts. Thanks for sharing.

Offline Ben Maher

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Re: A tale of two Buff
« Reply #18 on: December 23, 2022, 05:26:46 AM »
Lex ,
Widow Longbows , Muesli bars under the stars , wood arrows and Ben with his big Nitro’s

More stories please ….

Cheers mate.
" All that is gold does not glitter , not all those who wander are lost "
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