This is a short story about hunting.

Sorry, there's no name calling, no scandal, no immature lions or elephants, and no money grab.

It's just hunting, pure and simple, the way that it happened in real time.

So, if you're exhausted with scandals and name calling and you'd like to read an AR post about hunting, you're in the right place.

Enjoy!



It was July of 2011. Three days prior, I left the heat and humidity of Alabama bound for Zimbabwe’s incredible Save Valley Conservancy. With my wife Betsy in tow, we made the long journey across the Atlantic, overnighted in South Africa, flew to Harare early the next day, cleared customs and immigration in Harare, and ultimately chartered to Sango in the SVC. Our hunt was to be a 21 day affair for everything that roams the Save, except lion. Elephant was the main quarry, with leopard and buffalo also high on the list.

As the Cessna 206 circled the dirt strip I saw familiar sights that brought a smile to my face. The Sango lodge, the Turgwe River, and good friends, first met on our 2009 safari, anxiously awaiting our arrival. Among them were our PH, Thierry Labat and his fiancé Suzie, and the lodge managers, Lindsay and Nevin Leesmay.

We climbed out of the 206, glad to be on terra firma, everyone seemed genuinely happy to see us, but I was definitely the most excited. Excited, of course, to be back among good friends, but even more excited to be in Africa again, under a perfectly blue sky and the hot, yellow African sun.

After we made the short drive to the camp, we settled in and unpacked, then later assembled at the lapa for refreshments and to catch up with our old friends. After talking a few minutes, I noticed that Thierry was pulling a deformed bullet out of his pocket and playing with it from time to time. When I could no longer help myself, I just asked, “So, is that your new lucky charm?”

Thierry smiled and handed me the bullet. It was a .458 Trophy Bonded Bear Claw. It was obvious that it had collided with something big and that there was a story to be told. “So, what’s the story?” I asked.

Thierry went on to tell about a buffalo that had been snared and was badly crippled. The buffalo had been seen two or three times, but no one had been able to put it down. Since such an animal could mean certain death to an unsuspecting passerby, everyone on Sango was on high alert for this wounded, walking, death sentence.

While taking a river walk with prior client, Thierry spoted the buffalo limping across the sand. He is 200 yards away, but there’s no mistaking that this is the buffalo that needs sorting out. He lets drive with his iron sighted 458 Lott before the buffalo can get across the narrow river. Surprisingly, the buffalo drops like the proverbial sack of potatoes.

When they walk up to the buffalo, he’s been hit through the brain, explaining the dramatic collapse. The client brags on Thierry’s marksmanship – braining a buffalo with an open sighted big bore rifle, no less - and Thierry humbly accepts the accolades, but keeps to himself that he was aiming at the shoulder.

As they stand over the buff and examine his prior and current wounds, Thierry notices something shiny in the water just a few feet distant from the point where the bullet exited the buffalo’s head. When he walks over the picks up the object, he cannot believe what he sees . . . it’s his bullet.

Lots of times we hunters are able to retrieve bullets from game or from trees or from mounds of dirt, often keeping the projectiles as mementos or charms, but just how often does a hunter fire a bullet and find the bullet where it finally comes to rest? Not very often, I’d say! Personally, I’d never had it happen and, before this instance, I had never heard of it happening.

Thierry figured the bullet used all of its energy getting to the buffalo and penetrating the head, then fell to the ground almost immediately upon exiting the buffalo’s head. As we passed the bullet back and forth and tried to calculate the physics to explain the physical phenomenon Thierry witnessed, we reckoned that the best explanation for the occurrence was that it was “One in a Million”.

Fast forward a day, and we are driving through the conservancy looking for bait animals, elephant tracks, and any cooperative trophy animals. We managed to shoot a zebra first thing in the morning followed by a black-backed jackal.

The weather was gutty (Zim slang for rainy, cold, and windy) and any animals that we encountered were a bonus. On one occasion, we stopped to check a bushbuck ram and were treated to a sight not often seen – two big rams chasing a female and almost running over us in the process – but that’s another story.

After the bushbuck encounter, we found ourselves close to a deep pool. We decided to check the pool to see if there was any sign of crocodiles basking, or slides, or any other sign of a large, prehistoric lizard in the area.

The weather being what it was, I figured there was ZERO chance that we would see a croc out of the water. In fact, I just about left my rifle at the truck. Only at Thierry’s urging did I bring the rifle. Indeed, I can hear him now saying, “Might as well bring it, you never know.” So, I placed the loaded 416 over my shoulder and fell into my place in line (third) as we marched single file toward the pool.

The pool was a familiar place that I’d been to two years prior. A nice lane was cut into the thick bush which allowed a quiet approach to the water. Walking through, we commented on how much the vegetation had grown in the past two years.

We reached the water and saw no crocodiles. There was a large beach, where we’d seen lizards two years prior, but they were not there today. We walked all the way down to the edge of the pool trying to look at all of the banks. Binos were pressed to eyes as we scanned the banks and all of the likely spots for a croc to situate himself.

When I’d decided there were no crocs around it was time to walk back to the truck, Thierry started acting “birdy”. “There’s a big croc”, he hissed.

“Where?”

“There!”

“Where?”

“There! Twenty-five yards!”

“Oh, shit! There!”

There were two unbelievable things occurring. First, a croc was concealed in the wide open, just 25 yards from us. Granted, he was not in the most likely of places, but he was right there. Second, he was out of the water. It was mid-day, but still very cool and wet. We both had on our jackets, yet this croc was out of the water, apparently unaware that a cloudy, wet, and cold day was not good for basking.

We quickly sized up the croc and decided that he was a shooter. We were TOO CLOSE to the animal, so we actually backed up five yards to get a better vantage point and a better place to set up the sticks. As I got onto the sticks, it occurred to me that I knew very little about where to shoot a croc. We had not yet had the customary PH – client talk about shot placement on this animal, but I knew a bit about the spine shot from reading and from television. I confirmed and reconfirmed that my aiming point was correct and squeeeeeezed the trigger.

"Two inches behind the smile"


At the shot, the crocodile tensed, raising his head and tail off the ground for a split second, before he relaxed and his head and tail fell lifelessly to the ground. A second spine shot was delivered to the now-lifeless animal followed by a third shot to the heart lung area. It appeared certain that the croc was done and dusted, but I stood guard as Thierry and the trackers ran around to pull the lizard from the edge of the water.

Once the guys pulled the croc from the edge of the pool, I walked around and joined them with the fallen beast. This was my first croc and sitting beside him I was overcome by two of his physical attributes, namely: size and teeth. Wow! An apex predator if ever there was one.

My, what big teeth you have.


Finishing the photos and retelling the story, I noticed something shiny nearby in the sand. Could it be my bullet? Surely not. Well, it was. Believe it or not, I went and picked up a 400 grain, near perfect Barnes Round Nose solid. The solid was the third shot fired – the heart / lung shot – that passed through the crocodile, made a sharp left turn, and fell to the earth, landing on the beach sand, partially burying, but remaining sufficiently exposed so that I was able to see it and recover it.

The Second One-in-a-Million Bullet in Just a Few Days


At first, we could not believe it. We tried to reconstruct how the bullet could have fallen out of the croc when pulled away from the water’s edge. That, however, was impossible. The drag marks were 20 feet distant from the place where I found the bullet. The conclusion was unavoidable . . . this bullet, just like the bullet that Thierry found days earlier, had penetrated the animal, exited, and come to rest close by, where it was found and reclaimed by the shooter.

So, what were the chances of two hunters firing two killing shots that passed through the animal and came to rest in a semi-obvious location so that the hunter could see the bullet and, ultimately, would actually see and pick up the bullet?

We decided it was One in a Trillion.

hmmm....croc looks young....


;-)

Great croc, great story. I'm going to re-think my not wanting to shoot one.

quote:

Originally posted by BaxterB:
hmmm....croc looks young....


;-)

That made me laugh. Good one.

Looks like he may have bribed the stick to hold the croc's mouth open.

Great story and photos - thanks! The Save Conservancy is indeed a special place.

Mangwana

The African mystique...

Mike

Thanks for the "bullet story". Enjoyed reading about what was obviously a fun trip. Can't wait for the rest of the story.

Tom

The belly of that Croc would make a really nice brief case for a Lawyer.

Is that a male or female croc?

quote:

Originally posted by Frostbit:
The belly of that Croc would make a really nice brief case for a Lawyer.

A croc and a lawyer? Isn't that cannibalism?

OK, jokes aside...I loved the stories...lets have some more.

quote:

Originally posted by Blacktailer:

quote:

Originally posted by Frostbit:
The belly of that Croc would make a really nice brief case for a Lawyer.

A croc and a lawyer? Isn't that cannibalism?

That would be sharks as in the old joke that goes. . .

Why do sharks not eat lawyers?

Professional Courtesy.

Damn brother, that is amazing !

I have heard of a couple of such events but never personally witnessed it.

Will, if you got just a few more steps back in the last picture, you could claim it was a 70 footer!

Thanks Will. We all needed that story after a few days of depressing banter.

Great story, well done.

Nice beast! Great shot!

Best,
jpj3

Good stuff Will...enjoyed the read

Will,

Thank you for that - really.

Well done Will.

Will,

This was a timely post!

Many thanks, it sure brought a smile to my face.

You're a hell of a writer too...

Chris

awesome

Great post!

Bullets! How amazing they are.

A few years back, we were on our first day on safari.

We saw a nice heartbeest bull, and decided to shoot him.

He was standing on an ant hill, angling away from us.

I put a bullet into his hind quarters.

When we went to pick him up, we found a hole in the ground, with my bullets stuck in it!

This year was quite an eye opener for bullet performance once they pass through an animal.

We never saw them on the day of the hunt. But, looking at the videos afterwards made it all clear to see.

I shot a wildebeest, facing us at an angle.

The bullet hit him and went out at almost a 90 degree angle, hitting the ground a few yards away from him.

I shot a croc, and my second, insurance shot, hit him in the head, and went out at an angle, missing the head of a hippo standing a few yards away!

Again, none of these were visible to us on the day. But seen as I looked at the video afterwards.

Counselor, thanks for bringing us back to the great things we see and read here. Nice preface, by the way. Our profession (yes, I'm a lawyer) has been smeared here, but we're accustomed to it. I don't want to get any of that, but great story.

Ja, cool story and good humor, well done Will

Difference between a croc and a lawyer?

One is a slimy creature that often feeds off human beings.....the other is a reptile.

Joking aside great croc and well done on what must have been a safari of a life time.

Thanks a great story Will!

quote:

Originally posted by Fjold:
Is that a male or female croc?

Franks,


Looks like male...mostly all croc's over 12-12.5 foot are male, especially in RSA. Not to sure in other countries

Now that's pretty cool!!!

Needed that Will...thanks

Will:

Awesome story thanks!

I love that last photo; your croc looks just like that spinosaurus that was in the third Jurassic Park movie.

Great croc- great story ! Man I love hunting those things.

Will,

I've been thinking about this story and although Thierry finding that bullet is almost unbelievable, I don't think it was a one in a trillion happening. I think you'll agree, being a lawyer, that the numbers just don't add up. One in a billion maybe, but a trillion? Remember, over here we actually know what a trillion is

Cheers, Dave

Why did all the dinosaurs die off?

I can't say for all of them but this last one died from 416 administered lead poisoning.

quote:

I think you'll agree, being a lawyer, that the numbers just don't add up.

As a lawyer, I can only add in increments of $175.

Wow, amazing about the recovery of two bullets AFTER they exited the animal. I have always been a bullet collector, and have so frequently been disappointed that the bullet has exited and was not to be recovered. My last a Guenther's Dik-Dik, shot this past August near Yabello in southern Ethiopia with a 22Magnum. At about 60 yards, the bullet entered at the base of the neck - right front shoulder interface and to my surprise (and disappointment) EXITED, at the rear most portion of the left rear leg passing through approximately 18 inches of flesh! But the "one in a million" recovered bullet story brings back an old memory . . . . Northern Wisconsin deer season, circa ~1963, my father was hunting with his Winchester model 1894 Octagon barrel lever action in caliber 38-55. A good buck crossed a logging road and my Dad took a good clean broadside shot at something like 80 yards. The buck ran off as if it had not been hit, and after a minute or so another shot rang out. My father followed it up and found the buck had run by another hunter who dropped it and rightly so claimed it as his trophy. in addition to the second shot that had dropped it, the buck had a clean well-placed entry and exit hole just behind the shoulder that had passed just under the spine and had done very little damage. While walking back to his car, and along the logging road, there in the road lay the 38-55 bullet! A semi-jacketed soft nose (as all loads in that caliber were) it had apparently passed through the deer without hitting any bone and showed very little deformation and no mushrooming or expansion. My Dad vowed then and there to hang up the old Winchester and bought a second hand Remington model 721 bolt action in 270 before the next deer season . . . and the possibility of another non-expanding bullet was forever cured . . . . I'll have to ask my Dad if he still has that bullet picked up from the logging road.