"Floating Bones" (Lion & Leopard) and Buffalo Heart Bone.

Is there an expert among us who can confirm the purpose of the floating bones found in the pectoral muscles of Lion & Leopard?

The theory that I have been living with is that they act as "locking" elements on muscles, tendons (whatever) when the cat gets a grip on its prey and "locks" the action of the "dew claws" (thumbs if you wish).

True or untrue?

The Buffalo heart has a bone located at the entrance to the ventricles which I believe is the Aorta and the theory behind this is supposedly said to give added strength in building pressure within the heart when the animal is engaged in a strenuous situation such as fighting another bull, fending off a Lion attack, running from danger, etc.

True or untrue?

I removed one last week from a Buffalo killed by my client which I presented to him once boiled and cleaned with 2 bullets recovered as a memento of his first Cape Buffalo.

quote:

Originally posted by lavaca:
Well, this thread has appeared to die, but i suspect the members here have some great stories, so in an attempt to revive it, I'd ask, What are the most memorable animals you've run across that you weren't hunting? And the circumstances?

For me, blind snake, wild dogs, mambas, dwarf owls, mongoose's etc.

For me, there is nothing as odd as a Tapir. The indigenous guides I have fished with over the years, call them, like Duikers.

Fulvio,

I've always thought that the floating bones were vestigial of what would be a collar bone on us, but since cats' front shoulders are not "hinged" it is no longer necessary, but could be wrong.

I've seen the "heart bone" but since it's not connected to any other bone, I'm not sure it is a bone at all. Maybe just a calcium deposit or hardened cartilege?

May need a vet's insight here. Ledvm?

For years, I've seen river otter tracks, but didn't actually see them until 2021. But saw them twice and they are amazing animals. Saw a whole group on dry ground which was amazing, but also saw them in some rapids in the river and they put on a show.

My 2009 safari was notable for a variety of reasons both good and bad. For some reason, virtually all of my pictures for this safari are gone. I had one picture in particular that I would love to have.

I shot a buff, well 4 actually. The skinners got this bone out of its heart and gave it to me. I had never seen one before, nor have I seen one since. I put it on the back of the sink as I was clearing out my pockets before I got to the shower.

One night I came back from dinner and turned the lights on intending to brush my teeth. I looked up and could not believe what I was seeing. Ants were carrying this bone up the wall. Straight up the wall. I was absolutely shocked.

I'd love to have that picture.

In 2021 the plains game got really spooky and a couple of days later we found a rather small group of wild dogs. They were amazingly unwary of us. One seemed to have what appeared to be a snakebite on her face and she wasn't doing all that well, but was still with the pack.

Back in 2008, I had a frog that lived on the drain in my shower. I had to nudge him out of the way every night so that I didn't step on him while I got a shower. He waited on the side until I was done and then returned to the drain.
His name was Fred.

Later, and I can't remember the year, I had a monitor lizard living under the emameled cast iron bathtub that Michel Mantheakis has in his main camps. I've never used the tub, just the shower, but the lizard liked it underneath. He never bothered anyone and didn't get a name.

Rewind 20 years back or so, we had a natural spring in our Namkonko Selous camp that would produce uninterrupted water to supply the needs for the entire camp.

It was also home to a small colony of frogs, large and small, that were fed upon by a Boomslang that lived high in the foliage above and a Black Cobra that inhabited the honey-combed crevices of the spring's source.

Neither of these rather dangerous reptiles ever bothered anyone and it was strictly forbidden to
disturb them whenever they made an appearance which was to feed on frogs.
The cobra was regarded to be the guardian of the spring and had been granted amnesty by Luke to live in peace at the spring.

The Cobra would come out occasionally to sun itself then slither back into its rocky home
and be content watching the staff fetching water from the pool several feet away.

Alas, one day the Cobra ventured beyond its boundary and made an unappreciated appearance outside the late Bloodnut's tent occupied by the man himself who promptly dispatched it with a load of bird shot.

The following year when we returned to set up camp, the spring had run dry, not a single drop was produced and water had to be trucked in from another spring several miles away for the entire season.

The spring returned to normality the year after and life went back to normal. Luke was adamant that the cobra's spirit had been instrumental in serving us with a "payback" for its untimely demise.

The new occupant of the block is camped at the same location, using the same spring.

Fulvio,

Awesome story. I leave snakes alone. Not surprising that Luke shared that sentiment, but surprising that Paddy didn't. I remember a story about Paddy not shooting hyenas as a matter of principal until they ate his beloved elephant seat covers. May Paddy rest in peace.

Love to hear the churra when sitting around the fire.

quote:

Originally posted by fulvio:
Rewind 20 years back or so, we had a natural spring in our Namkonko Selous camp that would produce uninterrupted water to supply the needs for the entire camp.

It was also home to a small colony of frogs, large and small, that were fed upon by a Boomslang that lived high in the foliage above and a Black Cobra that inhabited the honey-combed crevices of the spring's source.

Neither of these rather dangerous reptiles ever bothered anyone and it was strictly forbidden to
disturb them whenever they made an appearance which was to feed on frogs.
The cobra was regarded to be the guardian of the spring and had been granted amnesty by Luke to live in peace at the spring.

The Cobra would come out occasionally to sun itself then slither back into its rocky home
and be content watching the staff fetching water from the pool several feet away.

Alas, one day the Cobra ventured beyond its boundary and made an unappreciated appearance outside the late Bloodnut's tent occupied by the man himself who promptly dispatched it with a load of bird shot.

The following year when we returned to set up camp, the spring had run dry, not a single drop was produced and water had to be trucked in from another spring several miles away for the entire season.

The spring returned to normality the year after and life went back to normal. Luke was adamant that the cobra's spirit had been instrumental in serving us with a "payback" for its untimely demise.

The new occupant of the block is camped at the same location, using the same spring.

You ever read Henderson the Rain King? There is a funny scene in there about a cistern and frogs and the whole thing blown to hell with powder culled from 375 H&H cartridges...

Folks,

We were hunting on the Luangwa with Arthur Taylor. Arthur was a jokester and you never really knew what the day would hold as he was continuously
messing with the crew in a good natured way.

We were about at the end of a long safari and we still needed a roan but we hadn't seen even one. Arthur consulted with one of the trackers Roger that had worked that GMA for a long time and he suggest an area that might produce a roan.

Before we took off that afternoon to look for the roan Arthur told Roger the tracker that finding the roan was his responsibility and his alone. Roger didn't know Arthur very well and took this to heart. Roger was visibly worried about what would happen if we didn't find a roan.

We were riding through the cathedral mopane and boom! There was a beautiful roan bull all by himself. He very graciously let me shoot him.

Roger was obviously very relieved with the weight lifted off his shoulders. We had the roan! Then the party started. With everyone jumping around and singing. This continued all the way back to camp with Roger singing louder and far worse than anyone I've ever heard.

Mark

In 2007, I took my oldest son to TZ as a graduation gift for his college graduation. We hunted Lunda South.

This was a bizarre place. We would ride by a place day in, day out. It looked the same. Then for no apparent reason, the ground started looking muddy. After a few days, these places would have milky looking water standing in a pool. I have never seen anything like it before or since.

Unfortunately, one of these places appeared right in the middle of our camp. The problem with this was that at least 10 billion frogs were going off at night. It was absolutely impossible for me to sleep.

I was greatly annoyed by these frogs. I was tired as hell from no sleep. About 2 AM one night, I decided to take action. I got up, grabbed by 416, stuck it out the tent flap and fired a shot.

It worked. All was quiet for about 30 seconds until the frogs got started again. It accomplished exactly nothing.

Larry,

Not sure where Lunda South is, but guessing it's in Western Tanzania based on where the Lunda live. Western Tanzania has lots of seeps and springs. In 2021 in Lukwati we saw a lot of new seeps coming up where they never existed before. We got stuck a lot. And the seeps were instantly inhabited by lots of frogs. I think it's seismic activity or somehow related to that. When you fly over the area in the late season, you instantly see the seeps and springs because they, and a strip downhill from them are green.

In 1978 when I was culling for the NZ Forest Service, there was a Kiwi burrow under my hut. The calls can be heard a kilometre or more away and they go on for hours sometimes. This was 2 feet under my bunk. A .270 shot out of the door worked for a while but it also stuffed up any chance of a handy deer at dawn. In the end I gave up and shifted to a different watershed.

One more Botswana story, I think Lavaca will appreciate this one.

We were up north, hunting the Linyanti Swamps, up to the Kwando River and over to the Selinda River.

Vira Safaris had a camp on the Selinda and we ended up there when Alastair McFarlane kicked us out of James Camp in order to bring the well known wildlife artist, Gary Swanson, in to hunt a big lion we’d been after for a few days. I was livid and Cecil Riggs had to pull me and Alistair apart as our argument got physical. I was seriously intent on beating the crap out of Alistair, which might not have been a good idea but I was starting to give it a go when Cecil pulled me away. Anyway, we were exiled to Selinda, where we continued looking for a lion, as well as buffalo and various plains game.

Once there, we found out we were sharing the camp with Terry Palmer and his hunter; who was buffalo hunting with a falling block black powder rifle (45-90 shooting paper patched bullets if memory serves me). Each morning, we’d head off our separate ways and meet again over cocktails, dinner and then more drinks around the fire before they’d stagger off to bed. Both Terry and Cecil were serious drinkers, like professional drinkers, while I didn’t imbibe much except for one evening.

One morning while we were driving along looking for lion tracks, we came on a pretty decent sized cobra of about 5 feet length. I told Cecil to stop the truck, grabbed my shotgun from the rack and shot the cobra. As you can imagine, the trackers were none too thrilled when I jumped down, grabbed the dead cobra and tossed it in the bed of the truck. Cecil asked what the hell I was doing and I told him I wasn’t sure but was gonna have some fun with the snake. By the time we got to camp that evening, I’d figured out a prank for the cobra. Everyone showered, had a pop and settled down for dinner in the dining tent. Part way through dinner, I excused myself to go use the toilet, but I was actually headed to retrieve my snake for the prank I’d thought up.

I grabbed the snake and headed straight for Terry Palmer’s tent. I unzipped the fly and coiled the cobra on the floor near the head of his bed. Then, as quick as I could I was back to finish dinner. Cecil had figured out that I was up to something with my new pet snake but didn’t know the details. I just gave him a nod and we finished dinner, then headed back to the camp fire for drinks before heading off to bed.

Terry was getting pretty plastered each evening and this night was no different. He finished a bottle of whiskey he’d been working on, lit a match and dropped it into the bottle ‘to chase the devil away’, then stood up and drunkenly told us good night, trundling off toward his tent. We’d all had plenty to drink this evening, but none like Terry. He didn’t notice that Cecil and I were following him to his tent. He set the lantern down, unzippzed the tent and stepped inside, zipping it shut. He set the lantern down, still not noticing that we were standing just outside. Terry started undressing and then…

HOLY HELL he saw the snake right by his feet. He started screaming and trying to exit the tent without fully getting it unzipped. He damn near tore the tent down in his panic. Being fairly inebriated ourselves, we were laughing hysterically just outside. Terry finally saw us outside, totally cracking up and realized the cobra was a practical joke that we thought was a lot funnier than he did. He started yelling “You bloody bastards, I’ll kill both of you!” That only made us laugh even harder, which just got him madder. We all finally calmed down enough to remove the snake from his tent and everyone wandered off to bed.

I was on the lookout the rest of the time in that camp, as I constantly expected payback and knew it was gonna be a bitch. Terry never did get back at me, at least not intentionally. He did accidentally get even with me a few days later when following us out of camp while we were all heading back to James Camp. Cecil left first, with Terry following behind by about a kilometer. Terry was dropping matches, burning grass as he drove.

We ran into a fabulous lion with a fantastic mane, jumped out and we’re stalking it when we heard the loud crackle of flames from a fast approaching bush fire. Terry’s fire was advancing rapidly! The lion took off and we hauled butt back to the truck just in time to evade the flames and save the truck.

We never saw that lion again and the one I ended up taking on the 22nd day of my 24 day hunt wasn’t nearly as good, but that a story for another time.

On our second trip to Africa, with my entire family, we go to Dande North and Lemco (now Bubye). My wife and youngest son (14 at the time and recovering from a back issue) had a super day - 34" Waterbuck, 58" kudu, bush pig and 13" warthog - all by noon.

They go out that afternoon and bump a black rhino in the road. My wife, non-hunter, but great spotter sees it first - says "Shoot, it is a big one".

Of course the PH and my son laugh and tell her that rhino's are protected but very dangerous.

She responds - "Ok, roll up the windows!"

We laugh about that a lot when we see something potentially dangerous - our battle cry is "Roll up the windows!"