I was just thinking of dangerous game and scary experiences. I think mine was on a leopard hunt in zim with Jumbo Moore. Being a bit fussy on just what kind of a leopard I wanted to shoot I was on my 54th day of hunting them. We had hung a zebra quarter from a tree over a big rock on the side of a hill. It had been a good spot in the past, and this time was no exception. On checking the bait the next day we found a good portion eaten, and a set of huge tracks. Jumbo looked at me and said "we're going violate every rule in the book. We should never set up on the first day, but this is the biggest set of tracks I've ever seen and I think he's bedded down at the top of the hill in a cave. We then set up a blind about 100 yards from the bait and made our way into it about 3 oclock that afternoon. It was after sundown, but still a little bit light when we heard the cat on the bait. He was streched out standing on the rock and reaching upwards for the bait. In the remaining light I could just make out the body shape well enough to warrant the shot. Using a O/U in 3006 with 165 grain partitions I held back a bit further since the leopards vitals are back further than on a antelope. At the shot he dropped down so fast that we couldn't make out the hit. I was sure I had done well, but theee was no cat visable. Now it was dark. We made our way to the rock and found blood, but no cat. Up hill the signs went, so did we. We had only made a few yards when the cat let us know that he was still alive and not happy. Back down the hill and wait for a few minutes. Jumbo, myself and the trackder Abul were standing at the bottom of the hill in the dark, when we heard a noise sort of like a cough. What was that Jumbo said, I don't know Abul chirped in maybe another leopard. We shined the flashlight in the direction of the sound, and there about 50 feet away was a nice maned lion. We didn't know where he was keying on us, the bait, the leopard or what. I was the only one with a gun and two barrels of 06 just didn't seem nearly big enough. The lion definately didn't like our flashlite in his face and let us know verbally that we were in his territory. It took 5 minutes or so before he moved off, but even then he did so quitely and we weren't sure just where he was. It took another 20 minutes before we heard him calling a couple of hundred yards away. And the leopard, we went up the hill again, but the flashlite batterys were dying so back to camp (25 K's away) we went. Came back and slowly went up the hill, but couldn't find anymore sign. We made our way back down the hill and almost stumbled over the leopard. He had died waiting for us. If it hadn't been for the lion we would have walked right into his ambush, and 200#'s plus of spotted cat would have surely gotten somebody.

Butch,

Great story. I have been on the ground on a black night with lions around but nothing like what you described. You must have been "Living in the moment" as they say. Congrats again on that magnificent leopard.

Not because I'm so macho but I've never been in what seemed like a immently dangerous situation. We've been false charged many time by elephant. hunted a previosly wounded and unhappy elephant, slept in trees with lions walking underneath and shot a buffalo that had doubledback to whack us but although I knew I was alive I never though I might loose sphincter control. Actually I think I got the biggest start from almost stepping on a large warthog last year in RSA.

Mark

Sitting in a slowly sinking bananna boat loaded with 6 guys on Lake Cabora Bassa a half a mile from the Mozambique shore wondering where the huge hippo male was going to pop up. He had just seconds before been displaying his ample tusks from about 20 yards away and then suddenly submerged. I was certain he was going to come up under our boat and take a bite out of one of us. The next most frightening experience was tracking hippo on one of the sand and reed islands in the middle of Cabora Bassa. The prints were so fresh they still oozed water and the dung was steaming. We were tracking through 8 to 10 foot tall reeds and I was the only person with a gun that would fire regularly. I knew at any minute we were going to encounter a highly pissed hippo in those tight quarters. I was never the least bit scared while hunting elephant, buff or leopard...but the damn hippos had me jumpy.

Perry

Great post, Butch. Well described, and that situation warranted a certain amount of hysterical relief afterward.

My own was a buffalo - uneventful but scary enough to be etched in my mind. 5 Daggaboys were cruising through the grass in front of us, and we had moved out into the open to have a great shot opportunity at 75 yards (double rifle). Passing from right to left, the lead bull suddenly started grazing directly toward us, and 75 yards turned into 50, 40, 30 pretty darn quick. Had a broken horn so we didn't want him, if avoidable. At 25 yards, the PH whispered to get out of there, so I started crawling away (rapidly) when he said "FREEZE". Looked back and the buffalo was trying to make up his mind what he should do. PH was on him with his 375, but that view really got the morning going! Buff finally wandered off to join his buddies and when we glassed them again to see if any were "shooters" we had missed seeing, my adrenaline rush had my hands shaking too badly to see through the binocs. PH asked if I could see any I wanted - I simply said "no".

butch,

At that range the big boy would have got all of you..
Damn fine story...My turn with chui and simba will be this summer..

My close encounter... Hunting a bull ele in the green jess of river bottom land...Ph was in front of me looking to left of trail and I was right on his right shoulder about a half a step back we were stopped and he was intently looking to the left...I looked to the right front and I saw a bull ele move his head and I saw the ivory move at 20 feet... I put my left arm on his shoulder and pointed at him, the ele and we froze and stood and then back pedaled real slow...

Mike

My biggest fright was also in the thick green bush along a river. We were working to get a shot at a tuskless cow we'd already seen in this herd. The wind had been swirling and given us away several times. On this approach we got to a spot where the brush made an almost 90* bend with a short bushy tree at the apex of the angle.

Th PH was a step in front of me and just to my right looking to the right for the tuskless amounst the elephants on that side of the herd. The trackers were six and eight feet to the left and behind the PH along the other side of the angle and peering to the left with their hands on their knees as the brush was lower there. I heard a sound coming from infront of the trackers and looked over, and I saw both of them crane their necks upward and upward and then saw both guys' eyes go wide. They bolted silently with one passing behind the PH and right next to me; the other going in the oposite direction. I got my rifle pointed and ready for the elephant to emerge from behind the tree three yards away but after a moment and no elephant I put my hand on the PH's shoulder and pointed to the left side of the tree. He looked and shrugged his shoulders and I pointed again. He took a step left and looked around the tree and drew back and told my to RUN in the most silent but emphatic yell.

I never saw the elphant but the PH told me she was only five yards away and testing the air. I saw other cows charge us from twenty yards or so and that was spooky but not being able to see this one and yet knowing she was there really had me going.

JPK

The picture above was taken just after first light on my second day (first FULL day) in Chewore. We had set up some bait and built a blind the previous afternoon. We snuck in in bare feet and sat listening to all kinds of roaring and grab ass activity until the sky started to lighten and some monkeys saw us and made a fuss. My PH, Mike Payne had a disgusted look on his face and said, "They're on to us. Bastards moved out."

We quietly crawled from the blind and made our way to the base of the tree, where our bait had been stripped clean, and there were huge lion tracks everywhere!

I was amazed by all this, on my first morning in Africa! I threw my rifle over my shoulder and pulled out my little pocket camera, and snapped this picture, just as something BIG crashed through the bushes not 20 feet away. As you can see in this picture, Mike had heard it just a split second before it happened.

After we all cleaned the crap from our shorts, he looked at me as if I was retarded and said, "What are you thinking? Hold that rifle in your hands man! THAT is how you get yourself killed around here."

I felt like the retard he was looking at. I never took my safety for granted in DG country again.

Mine was not from a lion nor buffalo not even an elephant but rather something much smaller yet just as deadly.
Several years ago my boss at the time took me his newest manager along for both business retreat and hunting on a private hunting estate. The mornings meetings were over lunch served an I was off to my very first "hide" to wait for PG with my bow an arrow.
The afternoon sun was warm an the hide, a half sunken concrete box with thatched roof was warmer. My camera tripod bag was in a corner on the floor. Zebra came in an as I was not interested in one I shot an entire roll of film of the small herd. When I reached into the tripod bag to retrieve another roll of film I felt somthing move. I lifted the bag to find a snake lying coiled up under it. My mind screamed snake! I jumped and literally flew out the door of the hide in one motion ...forget the fact I didn't know what type of snake it even was...all I knew is that on every Tarzan movie I've ever seen all African snakes were deadly. When the truck came to haul me back to the lodge I sheepishly admitted my bow was still in the hide an why expecting to be laughed at. The camp manager lifted the bag with a stick an the snake was still under it. He quickly hauled out a 12 ga O/U and blew it away. Telling me it was a black mamba.

N'gagi:

Great story! I bet that was a "close to God moment" for sure!

Cats, I would have s**t my pants. I HATE snakes.

My reaction to fear is to go completely cold and clear and only when its all over get queezy. And when the Zombie Buffalo was on the ground with an additional solid through the back of his neck . . . THAT'S when it hit. It's been a year and half now, and I am still going over the whole thing in my mind. "I shoulda tooked da .450. I shoulda come back da nex' day w'en I felt bedder. I already had one buffalo, why I get greedy?" and so on, and on . . . I tell you, it puts everything in a different perspective, coming that close to cashing in your chips. Adrenalin rush? Yeah. Fun? Uh . . .

Mine happened in 1989 during a leopard hunt in the North Dande concession in Zimbabwe. We were checking bates and came to one that was only 60 yds. from the road. We couldn't see the bait from the road because there was a 40 yd patch of 10 foot high grass between the road and the bait. We had driven to the bait site to put up the bait and the grass was pushed down into a narrow tunnel between the road and the opening where we hung the bait. We got out of the cruiser and walked down the narrow tunnel to see if anything had hit the bait. I noticed that my PH (who will remain unnamed) didn't take his rifle and the trackers stayed in the vehicle thinking that this would be a quick check as the bait hadn't been hit in the several days since we had hung it. I took my 465 double and dropped a couple of soft points into it. When we reached the opening and looked to our left towards the bait that hung from a very tll tree on a small slope, we stopped dead. The quarter of buffalo had been pulled lose from the under side of the tree and was swinging vigorously by the one end that still held it to the tree. The bottom of the bait was around 12 feet from the ground. Just at that time we heard a very loud and visious snarl from the tall grass 10 yds to our front. My rifle was up in a flash pointing at the invisable snarling lion in the grass. The PH said to keep it covered and to shoot if it came out of the grass but to slowly back up to the cruiser. We slowly moved back nd when we were about half way to the vehicle, I heard a slap and a bolt being worked to load a rifle. One of the trackers realized that the PH was unarmed and brought him his rifle. We left the area and the PH was quiet for 15 or 20 minutes before appologizing for his serious screw up.

As a side light the next day we drove back past the bait and lying across the road was the the largest lioness any of us had ever seen. I was able to get some excellent photos of her before she wandered off into the bush with 6 more members of her pride.

Like the Sarge I didn't really realize that I was scared until it was all over and I couldn't hold my hand still to light a cigarette.

465H&H

Cats,

Your not the first to abandon ship, blind with a mamba inside with you...There were some pics a year or so ago of a hunter bailing out but he went back with the scatter gun and finished what the snake started...

Mike

quote:

"Cats Bwana Bhang" (How's your Swahili?)

"Cats is a Big Pothead." (Better than Yours)

Still a Poseur eh?

The VERY first time I nearly bought the farm was in NA...Alaska to be exact. I had just bought my boat a twin screw off of then master guide Al Stomlin whom I had worked for three years as a guide, as he wished to retire. Along with the boat came 4 booked clients for coastal grizzlies A.K.A brown bears.
I was much younger then strong as a bull I feared nothing but my creator when I carried my Lott.
I had my own very first client within 60 yds of a honest 9'6" boar. We were lying behind a drift log that he was using for a rest. A perfect setup as the bear dug clams unaware of us. On my whisper the client shot hitting the bear in the lungs an fired again hitting guts as the brownie was entering the tall sea oats that covered dune between the beach and the brush. I had brown hair in my sights but didn't squeeze as I was certain the boar was dead on his feet.
We gave the boar 45 minutes before I took up the track. I was confident beyond caution (read that as young an dumb) and walked with my rifle in hand but not ready to fire. As we crested the low dune with me in the lead a hell chilling half roar snarl came from the oats not 20 yds infront of us. I threw up my rifle as did the client pointed in the direction of the roar. On my command we backed out of there just as we had come in. My client kept his rifle at his shoulder (a mistake I never made again). As we backed out with me watching for what I was sure would be brown fury coming any second. My client tripped backwards his 340 WTHBY went off and blew my NY Yankees ball cap off my head!!
Think about that I was wearing a baseball cap and the bullet went thru the cap an never cut my skin..though when I still had hair I had a white streak from the bullet's path for many years there and to this day carry a scar on my scalp from the burn !!
My client thought he had just shot me an the look he had on his face was one I've never seen again. He actually broke down crying when we hit the wet sand of the inlet.
I waited another hour till my nerves settled and I found the muscle tone to let him on the beach and trail the boar. I followed the blood and some wet gut sign into the sea oats, then it just stopped,I assumed the bear made a sharp turn. But like another poster mentioned earlier he had backtracked himself an laid up ten foot from the trail waiting for me. Fortunately he died while we were on the beach never uttering a death moan.
My client did everything but kiss me to appologize when we got back to "Mary Lou" after the skinning. We spent the rest of the trip fishing,digging clams, catching crabs but he refused to go hunt black bears. Said he'd never touch a gun again. Who knows I've never heard from him after that rip but I NEVER forgot him either.Nor forgot to look over my shoulder to see where a client's gun was pointed!! Cats

Mike I'll not make the January meeting...this working after retirement sucks!! See you in March...first round is on me. TLM

As we pushed our way through a wall of brush and came to a small clearing, my PH, Claude Kleynhans, raised his right hand and the government guy and I came to halt. Claude shifted his head left and right trying to find what out what was not right.

As he turned so did I and now we were facing the direction we had just come. All I could see was a wall of brush. Claude knelt down brought he Swarovski binos up and look back the way we had just come. He slowly lowered the binos and looked at me and mouthed the word "Buffalo"!

I stared at the wall of brush, the only movement I made was to bring the Hollis up to a ready position. Staring at the wall of brush over the muzzles of the 450/400, not knowing if he was coming or going, I realized I was scared!
We were being hunted!

The buff finally turned and bolted away.
The ground shook as if you were standing next to a horse as he thundered by at a gallop.
The government guy jumped behind the old balding fat guy with the double rifle!

I never saw the buff. We hunted for him for the next 4 hours. He apparently never stopped after our encounter!

We later found where we had walked within a few yards of the buff as he lay taking a midday siesta, under some low thick brush. We had disturbed he nap and he was coming to get us for invading his territory.

After that moment when the buff turned and left, I could have put my rifle back in the case, shaken Claude's hand and paid whatever money was due and gone home! Most exciting scary time of my life! All worth every penny I had paid!

Last June I shot my bull elephant on the point of the shoulder and he ran into some very heavy bush, along with two cow elephants. After waiting for the rest of the herd to disperse, I shot into a brushpile three times before entering the bush. Out came nine elephants. We then proceeded to track my wounded elephant in the very heavy bush, VERY CAREFULLY and VERY, VERY SLOWLY. I said to myself many times during that track: "WHAT IN THE HELL AM I DOING? AND, I AM PAYING FOR THIS 'FUN'!?" Needless to say we were soaking wet from perspiration and on full alert during the follow-up. We eventually found and finished off the bull, but not before a very nerve wracking and nerve shattering experience.

On a first night in my camp, we had been hearing a lion roar about 1/4 mile away with our camp between him and the river. After we broke off the conversation at the evening fire, to go to bed, the lion was stilltalking, but much closer now. Our sleeping huts were the lean-to type with the front completly open. I was suffering from jet lag and was no where near ready to fall asleep. The lion got quiet, for about 15 minutes, then let one go about 50 yds behind my hut! Now, the jet lag was forgoten, and adrenalin kept my eyes open. My eyes were open, but this was a moonless night, and though I tried, I leterly couldn't see my hand in front of my eyes. The end of the grass fence was just back of my lean-to where the drop off was down to the river.
In a few seconds I could hear footfalls of something heavy enough to make a tiny sound on the sand. I could follow the sound from my right, to just a few feet from the foot of my bed, and stop! I already had a 375 H&H bolt rifle laying accross my chest, with one up the spout, and safety off. For what seemed like an hour, it was very still, as I strained to see anything, to no avail. Then I heard the faint sound of the animal move off toward the other end of camp, where the open gate went to the skining shed down river.

the next morning, I went to the front of my lean-to, and there was a set of large tracks where the animal had walked to where I heard him stop, and had turned to face the foot of my bed, then turned again and walked on to the gate, and back into the bush. My PH was just walking by, and I called him over to look at the tracks. His responce was, "He was pritty close,and big, HUH?" Then a big smile came over his face, as he saw the concern on my face, and said, "You thought it was that lion we heard behind the huts last night, didn't you?" I just looked at him, and didn't answer. He then said it was a very large Hyena, and then told me I was in more danger from the Hyena, than from the lion, because the hyena was smelling food smells on my cloths in my hut, that were hanging on the wall behind me!

This was my first night in Africa, and one I'll never forget, and the experience pops into my mind's eye, every time I hear a lion roar, to this day, and that was 20 yrs ago! Gentlemen, the African lion is the one animal that strikes, heart stopping, fear in my soul.