One of our favorite parts of the trip was to sit around the fire and share what we had seen over a cold Castle Light or a glass of fine red wine(didn't catch the year of the box it was poured from). The whole camp was filled with excitement after Steve's good fortune(and good shooting!) that day. Except maybe for Hunter the tracking dog who was left out of all the action.
The next morning, Craig took me to "The Mountain Blind". You guessed it, the blind was situated at the base of a small mountain. Craig said, "This is kudu territory if I've ever seen it." He was right since we pushed several kudu and baboons off the water hole on the ride in.
The day passed with absolutely zero action. About 20 minutes before dark, I heard a roar that sounded to me like the mighty Simba from only 20 yards away. We saw leopard sign everywhere so I was hoping I would at be treated to a sighting.
Not long after the roar, I looked out the camera port and could see the legs of a kudu. I'd heard the kudu cows barking over the last few days and I'd figured this was a just cow with a little bit of Marlboro in her voice. I could only see the lower jaw due to the small camera port of the dugout blind that placed my head just above ground level.
A few minutes later, the kudu moved to my left so it's head was barely visible through the shooting window of the blind. I about fell over when I saw huge horn bases growing out of the head of this "cow"!
Now I'm no pro at judging kudu bulls but that old saw about how you will know a trophy when you see one definitely held true in this case. The bull was only 12 yards away and the body looked huge so I'm not sure what I would have done if I had not seen 2" of ivory on the tips of the horns that Craig had told us to look for.
It is probably a good thing that it all happened so fast because I barely had time for "Kudu Fever" to set in before the bull stretched his vitals out across the shooting window and gave me a picture-perfect view of his expansive vitals. For a whitetail hunter, that moment when you reach full draw and start to acquire that familiar sight window was a real shock with an animal this big! Very unfamiliar territory to me! I remember that I was able to hit full draw, lock in tight to my anchor, and used a little more of the arrow as a reference than normal due to the low light. When my gap felt about right, I pulled through the shot and watched the arrow slam home to the fletching near what felt like the top half of the vitals. The bull ambled off at the shot and I was able to hear that same Simba Roar I heard soon before I saw him. I stuck my head out the blind window and either heard or convinced myself that I heard a crash.
At this point there was very little daylight left. Because of the mountain between the blind and camp I had been given an extension for the 2-way radio I'd been given to contact camp along with instructions to walk the two-track about a mile West before I'd be able to contact camp.
So I'm walking down this African road at dusk and wondering what I'd use to fend off any of the critters that I was sure would soon attack. After a few minutes, I was able to get a hold of camp on the radio and tell them about shot.
Soon Craig pulled up in the truck and we started out on the track. Along with Craig was Gene, Craig's son Wayne, and Wayne's friend Stephan. The blood was not exactly pouring out but we had enough blood to not slow down too much. It was about this moment that I stopped, took a breath, and thought, "Hey, I'm following a blood trail in Africa, with Gene Wensel." Not much longer and I could see the stripped flank of a kudu rump. Partly to avoid screaming out loud and partly to let one of the boys be the first to see it I kept quite for a few seconds. Just wanting to savor that moment of joy when you come to the end of a blood trail. Hand shakes and congratulations from all around from the tracking crew felt great as I'm used to following blood trails on my own.
Turns out my shot was about as good as I could have hoped for. Looked to be about the middle of the vital area from the entrance wound.
At this point, Craig suggested that we leave some clothes over the bull and come back and take pictures the next day. Now it was going to be plenty cold over-night so I'm sure the meat would have been fine but something about leaving it out there just didn't seem right to me. I didn't know how I'd explain leaving that meat, guts still in the cavity, out there all night to my Dad and Uncles that had always taught me to do the best you could to take care of the meat, ASAP. Now, I doubt the locals who would be eating everything but the stomach contents would notice much of a difference in meat quality but for some reason it mattered a lot to me at the time. I told Craig that I'd rather we just took some pictures in the dark and get the bull to the skinning shack that night. He was fine with that and I don't regret the decision a bit.
In Craig's opinion this was a fine bull of about 8 years of age. Kudu was number one on my list by a long shot. I can't imagine how shooting a bunch more animals would have made the trip that much better. To tell the truth, the chance to hang out and learn from guys like Gene, Steve, Daryl, and Craig was like taking a PHD course and anything I shot was just icing on the cake!
I was shooting my Tall Tines 60" Recurve. 60# @ 28". Easton FMJ 400. Abowyer Brown Bear 175gr with 75gr grain steel inserts.
Topic: South Africa July 2014 (Read 525 times)
