The African Experience -- My Second Trip
by Roy K. Keefer
Part 3 of a series: to part #1 and part #2. 

Since this was my second trip to South Africa, I might be considered a veteran.  Not really.  But this time would be different; I would be more selective of the game I would shoot.  Having taken several nice animals on the first trip, I wouldn't take another animal of the same species unless it was a real wall hanger.

We were hunting the same ranch we had been to two years prior.  This time I wanted to take a nyala, waterbuk, bushbuck and maybe an eland.  As I previously noted these ranches are managed properties, the animals are still wild and unpredictable. 

My first hide was on the ground near a waterhole where I had taken a blue wildebeest on my last trip.  Things were pretty quiet for a while.  Warthogs came and went and a family of monkeys even showed up to drink.  Toward evening two waterbuks paid me a visit.  Waterbuks have an unusual rear end.  They have a circle of white that encompasses their rear.  It looks very much like they have sat on a toilet seat which was covered with wet white paint.  Their coats are grayish and the horns are somewhat like a young spike elk, only longer. 

One of the waterbuks looked pretty good to me and I readied for a thirty yard shot.  They were not nervous; I had plenty of time to get ready and take aim, all was well.  That is all was well until the arrow flew and struck the waterbuk low in the chest, maybe even striking the brisket.  I radioed the PH and he brought a couple of trackers to see if we could find my animal.   After spending an hour looking for it, we concluded that my shot was low and I had only given the waterbuk a nasty wound.  Remember what I said in Part 2, once an animal is wounded, it's your animal, and you pay for it whether it's recovered or not.  The waterbuk was never seen again and I had to pay the trophy fee for my mistake.  It was a costly mistake.

It was then that I realized in my haste to get hunting on the day of our arrival, I had not checked my bow to make sure it was still sighted in.    A trip to the practice target showed it was shooting five inches low and to the right.  After such a long airplane flight I should have known better.  It was a rookie mistake and one I haven't made since.  I guess when you have to pay cold, hard cash for your mistakes, you remember them.  My only consolation was that the shot was not fatal and the waterbuk lived another day, a bit sore and a lot wiser.

The next day I was in another tree hide over a waterhole.  My wife was with me and had her video camera ready to shoot pictures of the wildlife.  You always see plenty of bird life in these hides.  One particular bird is called the "go away" bird.  Its call sounds just like someone saying "go away".  The PH's say the bird alerts game to the presence of hunters in the area by its strange call.  One PH I know shot one of them with a .375 rifle because it bothered him so much as he was tracking an animal.  A little harsh, perhaps, and more than a little noisy solution to his annoyance.

Time went by quickly as we were entertained by the small wildlife.  And before we knew it a blesbok appeared on a nearby hillside and ambled toward the waterhole.  With the camera rolling, I shot the blesbok behind the shoulder with a 100 grain Thunderhead.  It was a complete pass through and he went 100 yards before piling up in the brush. 

This was the first kill shot we had captured on camera.  Having the video tape allowed us to see where the arrow had struck; it gave us immediate assurance that it was a good shot.

Before I forget, I should tell you my snake stories.   One afternoon I was in a tree hide and noticed a snake crawling near my tree.  The snake would crawl and periodically stop and raise up a third of its body length and survey the area.  Doing this gave it a periscopic view of its surroundings.  I had never seen this type of activity before but the next day I saw a repeat performance from the same tree.  I related the story to the PH and he pulled me aside to explain what I had seen. 

The snake(s) was a black momba, one of the most deadly snakes in the world.  He didn't want the other hunters to hear our conversation for fear that it would scare them.  He also told me that black mombas can climb trees.  A local rancher lost some giraffes because they were bitten while eating leaves from the upper branches of trees the mombas had climbed. 

The snakes had probably reacted out of fear and bit the giraffes in a defense move.  The legs of the elevated hides were made of pipe, because the mombas couldn't climb them.  That made me feel better.  I also learned that mombas are aggressive and can move very fast on the ground.  That did not make me feel good.

A few days later I was going to hunt a ground hide near a waterhole where I had taken a couple of animals.  The PH's son and my wife were going to drop me off at the blind and I would hunt alone.  This was one of those hides I described previously which looks like a termite mound and is pitch black inside. 

I lowered my bow, arrows, radio and water into the hide and climbed into the darkness.  The PH's son grabbed the door for the hide and began to move it into place.  As he did, a small black momba fell into the hide.  I was quite proud of my reflexes because I immediately grabbed the roof of the hide and swung outside. 

The son wore high boots and felt they offered him protection as he jumped down into the hide onto the snake.  A few well placed stomps and the snake was history.  I don't want to over exaggerate the situation.  It was a small snake, maybe two feet long.  But it was a black momba or "two step" as they call them.  The reason being you take two steps after being bitten and you die.  That's not true, you can probably go further, maybe a couple of hundred yards, but you will die.  We were two and a half hours from the nearest town and it would not have been good to have been bitten. 

After the snake was removed from the blind by the son, not by me, I had to climb back into the hide and get ready to spend several hours watching the waterhole.  Those were some of the worst hours in my hunting career.  I kept thinking, "Where there's one snake there's probably two snakes."  Sure wish I didn't think so much.

I'll skip ahead out of place in the sequence of the hunt to tell you that I hunted that blind again two days later and a mongoose came along and lunched on the remains of the black momba.  He ate it like candy.  Man, I love the mongoose. 

Different day, different hide and waterhole.  I saw an animal moving through the brush toward the waterhole, it was a duiker.  Duikers are small animals, probably not weighing over fifty pounds with small spike like horns.  He moved to a point of land coming out into the waterhole and began to drink.  I ranged the distance, 35 yards, took aim and released.  The shot looked good.  I radioed the PH to bring the truck and help me track the duiker. 

As I sat waiting for the PH, a grey back jackal appeared and walked to the same spot where I shot the duiker.  Quickly I nocked an arrow and shot.  My aim was true and the jackal was hit behind the shoulder.   Jackals are very similar to a coyote in appearance and size.  

Now we had two animals to track.  The tracking jobs turned out to be simple and short.  The duiker had 3 ½" horns which are considered trophy size.  The coat on the jackal was thick and full.

The next day I was in a different elevated hide.  The day went pretty much like the rest of the week.  I was entertained by the small wildlife until a small animal moved along a trail near my hide.  It was a springbok.  They are small animals, 50 pounds or so in weight.  He moved under my stand and gave me a 10 yard shot.  The shot was good and fifty yards away he expired.

I returned to the black momba hide another day and harvested a nice warthog.

My hunt was over.  I had spent 20 days hunting in two trips to the Dark Continent.  In those trips I had harvested kudu, gemsbok, blesbok, blue wildebeest, red hartebeest, impala, springbok, jackal, warthog, and duiker. 

Hunting Africa is like no other place.  The variety of animals you can collect in such a short period of time cannot be matched anywhere.  If you think it is right for you, spend the time selecting the right outfitter, study the animals you want to harvest and get ready for a long plane ride.  It's definitely a unique experience and if you have done your homework and luck is on your side you will have a wonderful time. 

I hope to get back to South Africa this year or next for sure.  I still want to take a nyala, eland, waterbuk and a larger kudu.  Maybe we'll see each other on the plane ride across the water.