This is another blog of a few days spent hunting one particular old bull elephant! I have decided to post it here as it is easier to read than clicking through to my blog on HuntersNetworks.com


"Gwai River Bridge"

One afternoon we decided to head up to the Gwai river bridge crossing to see if there was any elephant activity. The river had a thin trickle of water flowing throught it with a few pools dotted around. It was an extremely hot day perfect for elephant hunting! On enquiry a local native informed us that we had come to the right place and a very old bull elephant with a younger askari bull was drinking daily at the river. He went on to tell us that they would drink every evening around 6pm and then feed along the banks till the early morning where the children from the local village would see them everyday as they went to school. What wonderful sights for a child to see everyday!

Since it was already around 2pm, we decided to hang around and check out the bull ourselves. In time other local villagers came by and they all had the same story to tell! This is always a good sign as local natives exaggerate and often tell you what you want to hear. So we sent the trackers to look for tracks! They came back to confirm that indeed there were tracks from the night before of two bulls drinking at the water, one track in particular was that of a very old bull, his feet were worn with deep cracks, the tracks were not large but sometimes elephants can have small feet and big teeth! Scott the PH was also excited at the sight of the very old tracks.


"The green bushes are where the elephant bulls were drinking every night! The boundary road of our concession mentioned in my story is a mile or so behind the trees and runs parallel to the river".


Around 5ish we loaded up and headed down to set up on a path which the bull would have to come down towards the river. 6 o clock came and went and the village cattle passed us by, the shadows lengthened and day slowly gave way to night. Being the night before full moon, the moon came up early bathing the dry river bed and surrounding forest in its soft but bright glow. We waited sweating under the sausage tree, the mosquitoes came out to feast on us, but still no sign of the bulls! At 8:30pm we decided to call it a night and quietly withdrew. At 530am, we were back on the bridge, now using binoculars to look into every shadow along the river bank expecting to see the old bull in the early morning. Still no sign!

The trackers were despatched to see where they had drunk and we decided to drive the boundary road which ran parallel to the river but a mile away. This road was our hunting concession boundary and we could not follow the bull across the other side. The boundary was all too close for our liking but rules are rules. Halfway down the boundary road we picked up his fresh tracks from the night before, he had come from the river and crossed the road heading into the other hunting block! Dissapointed we returned to collect the trackers and they confirmed what we already knew that the bull had drunk at the river but at another pool lower down!

The next morning we returned again, this time a light drizzle had washed out the tracks from the night before and all we could tell was that a herd of cows had passed by! Had we lost the chance of finding this old bull, an animal that had walked under the African sun for close to 50 years, perhaps carrying ivory well into the 60s and 70lb range. One tall villager described the tusks as being taller than him, surely a 100lb and every elephant hunter's dream! This was a quiet hidden away little place, a place where an old clever bull could easily hideout and spend his old age. We wondered whether his sixth sense which had kept him safe all these years told him that he was now being hunted and whether he had packed up and left with his younger friend! The daily tracks and foreign smell of our hunting vehicle would have been enough sign to warn him.

The sight of that old foot haunted us and we knew we had to go back one last time! Back again we made our very early morning drive to the Gwai. We dropped off a couple of trackers to check the pools in the river and started our drive down the two mile boundary road. A mile later still no sign, perhaps he had moved off, at the end of the road, we stopped waiting for the trackers who were walking the length of that stretch of river to join us. Scott, decided to stretch his legs and walked down to the river, he was back in a few minutes to say that he had just found very fresh tracks of the two bulls and they were heading towards the river. The chase was on. We waited impatiently for the trackers to return, they came at a run to say they had also seen the very fresh tracks where the elephants had drunk, and were now heading into the one mile band along the river. We loaded up and followed them going as fast as we could in the dry river sand, up the river bank into the thorn bush, up and down the rough terrain following them, hoping that we would catch them before they got to the boundary road which was somewhere ahead of us! We lost the tracks twice in the grass and leaves, Luxon and Ben found them and off we went again. The elephants were heading as we suspected towards the boundary and to safety. There was no way we could catch them now, the boundary was now only about 150 yards away still invisible in the thick bush! Suddenly the tracks turned sharply, as we followed I realized that we were now heading back towards the river and deeper into our hunting area. Perhaps the elephants were planning to cross the river and head into the hills.

The big green accacia trees that grow along the river came into view, we were not far now from the river and getting into the real thick stuff. Suddenly a loud cracking sound came from infront, no doubt elephant. A few more careful steps and they came into view. The old bull feeding on the left and the younger one on the right, we had him! Checking the wind we closed the distance one step at a time. Trying desperately to get a look at the ivory. This was it, here was the elephant I had come to shoot. At 25 yards he turned offering us a view of one thin yellow tusk, too thin and really not long enough. Scott cursed for both of us. The expression on his face did not need words. It was the old bull of the Gwai alright but not what we were looking for. We watched the old elephant as he fed quietly, got some good video footage of him and slowly withdrew.

Slowly we made our way back to the boundary road and sent for the vehicle. As a new day broke and the sun came up, we sat in the dust laughing at our misfortune. That old bull could have been that once in a life time elephant, he could have had pillars of white gold, but his small yellow ivory had kept him safe all these years. All hunting is about the experience and not just the final outcome. But more so when hunting for a trophy bull elephant I have come to realize it is the journey that is to be savoured as much as it is to get there.

Long may the old bull live in his little honey hole at the river Gwai with the local villagers and children.

A good read, and well told!

Keith

Great story. Pardon my ignorance, but where is the Gwai River?

The Gwai Valley runs north west along the main road between Bulawayo and towns of Vic Falls and Wankie.
The watershed consists of Communal land, Forestry and stolen Farms.

That is a real hunting story and really well written.
Congradulations on a terrific hunt, you certainly savoured the journey.

Excellent story!