The story of the Wildebeest happened a little different than the Kudu……… Buy the third day we had moved around to other blinds as Evert does not like to use the same one twice in a row, to let things settle down. (Though, that did not seem to matter as the weather conditions were perfect for sitting at waterholes. The days were very hot.)
I had not had any opportunity for game I wanted to shoot, though we saw animals at every blind. Zebra (would not come in), Ostrich, Warthog (small), Sable, Roan antelope, Tortoise (they are funny to watch), Red Hartebeest, Tsessebe, etc.
On day four we got in our blind in late morning and by mid afternoon game started to arrive. A herd of Wildebeest came to drink. First there were many young and pregnant females. We watched them for a long time as they milled around grazing and butting each other. Every once in a while one would spook for seemingly no good reason as the wind was in our favor and we were very quiet. I had some cover scent that was in by backpack from previous hunts, so we were using it at each blind. It did seem to help. But these Wildebeest are just goofy animals.
Eventually the heard would meander back and bring in some more stragglers. This time Evert noticed a really nice bull at the edge of the herd. His face lit up as he motioned to me that this was a really nice old bull with great horns. That indicated he wanted me to shoot that one. ( At Imbasa they like to manage the game species by only taking out mature animals, thus insuring quality trophies are available to harvest. This practice also translates to perpetuating a good gene pool.)
I was ready, or so I thought, when the bull came in for a drink and Evert gave me the nod. Unfortunately to my utter dismay the arrow struck High and forward of the vitals. I was really upset at myself as the shot on the Kudu was placed perfectly. Now, I am not making any excuses but perhaps the excitement and adrenalin just got to me and I did not make a clean release. ( S**t happens when your hunting!!!) Now that I look back on that day, I was lucky to have a great PH like Evert and a great tracker like Paul. When the herd peeled out after the shot, my heart sunk as I watched the bull take off with the others. We exited the blind as Evert called in Paul. We found my broken arrow near the edge of the clearing outside the blind. About six to eight inches was missing from the front end of the arrow and there was much red blood on the shaft which indicated that I might have hit an artery. I sure was hoping so.
When Paul arrived Evert spoke to him in African, which is a local language that to me sounds a little like Pig Latin (very little) and (maybe Dutch). Anyway, I knew this was going to be a really difficult tracking job as these wildebeest I am told, are strong and hard to put down even with a good shot placement.
Well, with the truck secured we were off. I was pretty much silent during the tracking but Paul was on the tracks of the herd right away. He found blood immediately on the dry dusty red savanna ground. We followed the herd for quite a while when Evert spotted them out ahead of us. They were off and running to our left as Evert intently glassed for my wounded bull. He was still not sure it was with the herd, so we continued to follow the tracks in the dirt looking for any blood trail. At one point Evert turned to me a said things were not looking too good as the blood trail was lessening. We continued on, moving as fast as we could to keep the pressure up. ( Evert told me later that under the circumstances that was his best option.) He turned out to be 100% correct. You see, as we pushed on, Paul started to see more and more blood with many pools at various distances. Then, again Evert spotted the herd ahead, this time he got a good look but did not see my bull. Now to find where the bull left the herd. ( I was told that when a Wildebeest or any game for that matter leave the safety of the herd they are most likely hit pretty hard.) Just a little further and Paul picked up a tiny spot of blood on some thin grass and we found tracks going off in the opposite direction of the rest of the herd. That's what Evert was hoping for. He turned to me and smiled as we headed off at a quick pace toward our goal.
We followed his spoor for about a mile seeing glimpses of him on occasion, stopped under a tree or glancing back at us then taking off again. We came to a dirt road where we stopped to rest and Evert had Paul take a shortcut back to get the truck and some water to quench our thirst as the day was heating up. While we waited for Paul to return we moved under a tree to get out of the beating sun. I could see Evert was excited and he told me how much he enjoyed hunting and the pursuit of game. We were standing next to a tree limb and he noticed that at the very tip was a very well camouflaged locust looking insect hanging on. We both noticed how his surface matched the limb bark pattern exactly which made him just about invisible. He was huge compared to any grasshopper/locust I ever saw her in the states. It must have been 5 to 6" long at least. I would hate to see a swarm of them coming across the veldt.
As we talked some more I saw that Evert was more confident that we would retrieve this bull. ( Not so, earlier….. )
When Paul got back we quenched our thirst and slowed our pace a little as Evert and Paul thought this was the time to let off on the pressure and give him some time to bed down as the blood we were now following was pouring out in a line of about two or three feet at a time, so it was quite easy to follow. (Evidently, as I hopped, he was hit in an artery [subclavian artery/vein near the arch of the aorta] that runs from the heart to follow a line just above his shoulder blade and under the Oesophagus.) As we slowly moved on leaving the truck at the road, the blood trail showed more patches of red blood as he traveled thru some steep draws on his way thru the savanna.
We hadn't gone very fare from the road, perhaps a half mile or so when Evert stopped suddenly. Paul then pointed to a tree ahead and to our right about 50 to 100 yds away. There bedded down under a Acacia tree was my bull. At that point I did not want to chance him bolting off again if I tried a stalk to get into bow range. I felt it was our obligation to hasten his demise as quickly as possible. So, when Evert asked if i wanted to use his 300 Win Mag to put him down for good, I took the offer. His gun was sighted in for 200 yds point blank. He was closer than that quartering away so I held a little low and just back of his last rib. I squeezed the trigger and he fell over in a heap. I can say I was disappointed not to have a clean bow kill but I know I did the right thing that day.
When we got to the bull it was obvious he was old and mature, with a fine set of horns and thick bosses. His teeth were warn down to the gums. We examined the arrow wound to see that he did not have long to go before he expired, even without the gunshot. I was very very happy with this trophy Wildebeest. We took pictures and Paul went to work on the dressing and bringing the truck close enough so we could (the 3 of us) lift him into the bed for the trip back to Imbasa.
I have heard many stories about the superior tracking ability of the PH and Trackers in Africa. This day I saw first had how true that is. It was amazing to be part of the experience first hand.
Topic: Bowhunt Africa (Read 629 times)
