During our recent hunt in South Africa my eldest son, Adriaan (11), shot his first kudu bull. It was a big event in our lives. During 2007 we hunted hard for a nice kudu bull, but things just did not work out. This year we got the bull, on the second last day of the hunt. It was no monster, mid 40’s, but more than enough to make a young man very proud.

While heading out early morning, with the intention to look for kudus on a different mountain, we saw some kudu feeding below the northern summit of a mountain on our way. They were about 2 miles off, but I could see at least one bull. We decided to move around the east of the mountain to get out of their sight and to get the wind in our favor, for an approach from the southeastern side. It seemed that the kudu were heading to clear the summit and we intended to intersect them at some point on their journey.

We slowly worked our way up and across the mountain to the point where I expected to find the kudu. This took us about 1.5 hours. When we arrived at the point where I was heading for there was no kudu in sight. We decided that they must have move quicker than I had anticipated and were probably now somewhere behind us. The wind was up to a steady breeze, with a constant direction. We started to loop back in order to relocate them.

While moving as cautious and softly as possible we walked slap bang straight into a young kudu bull at a distance of less than 40 yards! Luckily this kudu was grazing with his head down behind a low bush and his body sticking out. The wind was blowing from him to us and we all froze. Seconds later the bull picked up his head, gave us one look and ran off with a bark. The bush in front of us erupted with motion as the rest of the herd followed the fleeing bull. Adriaan’s heart sank into his boots. We stood frozen for a minute or two and then sat down on the spot.

I explained to Adriaan that all hope was not lost. The bull did see us, but he could not have smelt us and he certainly did not hear us. The chances were therefore good that he was merely startled and had been unable to positively identify us. It has also been my experience that when one of the younger members of a herd sees you, but does not smell you – and no other more senior herd member saw or smelt you, the herd often does not move that far off. It is almost as if the judgments of juniors do not carry to much weight.

Any how, we sat for twenty minutes before we moved. The kudu fled in the direction of a small north-south valley near the top of the mountain, which we approached from the east, while the wind came from the southwest. Within 15 minutes of stalking we were on the eastern crest of the valley, and lo and behold, there stood the herd of about eight kudu feeding on the western slope of the valley.

Most things about this situation were just perfect. The kudu were feeding calmly; the sun was in their eyes and the wind in our face. Problem though was that we were about 450 yards from the kudu and the cover was such that we could not stalk them without being seen, so we had to do the crawling thing (with my newly acquired US Army kneepads back in camp).

It took us about 45 minutes to get 200 yards closer to the kudu, but then we spotted an old cow sunning herself at the basin of the valley. Any further significant movement and she would likely have seen us. The biggest bull was behind a bush so we had no rush. We crawled in under that shade of a nearby tree and waited. It soon became apparent that the old cow did not intend to move from where she stood, so while I remained prone, Adriaan slowly got up and settled his rifle on the shooting sticks.

I realized that 250 yards is a long shot over shooting sticks, but trusted Adriaan’s judgment. Being a seasoned hunter, with a very contentious personality, he would not take a shot if he was uncertain of the outcome. Adriaan must have spent at least five minutes glassing the bull through the 2.5 – 8 VXIII scope, as it was standing behind the bush.

When the bull stepped out from behind the bush he was facing us at a slight angle. I intended to tell Adriaan to wait for a broadside shot, but as I turned to address him the shot rang out. I cursed myself for having taken my eyes of the kudu bull and hastily searched for it with my binoculars. The bull ran with a curve in our direction and went for about 100 yards before it showed signs of being seriously ill. At that stage it was clear that the bull, and the rest of the herd, had no idea where the shot had come from. The staggering bull headed for a large bush, took cover and toppled over. Adriaan had his first kudu bull – a damm pestering wind made my eyes all teary.

Adriaan was as energized as an electric pikanien. He just could not contain himself. He needed an outlet for his excitement and offered to run down the mountain, get the truck and drive out to go fetch the farm hands to help with the recovery of the kudu. I agreed, as I needed silence and time.

While Adriaan and his buddy took off to fetch the farm hands, I had an hour to sit next to the downed kudu bull. I smoked a cigar, actually two It was just one of the most peaceful and joyous hours I’ve ever had. I thanked the Lord for the privilege of having two great sons, who had both taken great animals, on a great hunt, in a great country. I told that kudu things I’ve not told anyone before.


Adriaan’s 130 gr bullet struck the bull in the neck, passing into the chest cavity where it severed the pluming above the heart and cut through one lung to be lost in the gut. He was shooting a 7 x 57 semi custom rifle, with bullets handloaded to do about 2100 fsp. This load can surely not be described as a bolt of lightning, but with a well placed bullet it will always do its job – with very mild recoil.

I’m one happy Dad.

I am sure the wind would have made my eyes water too. This is one great post. Congrats to you and your son, both of you were lucky to be able to share this wonderful once in a life time experience. Once again congrats to your son. He does look happy .

Great story, great shot, great kid. Congratulations!

Beautiful bull, for a fine young hunter and not too shabby guiding on Dad's part either.

Please pass along our congratulations to the boy. Well done dad.

Wow! You have a lot to be proud of, your boy done good!

Weidmannsheil to the fortunate and skillful hunter! Very special moment for all involved!

- mike

Congratulations!

Congrats.To your son that is monster.

Great - first collected trophy is always special. I am sure the boy will always appreciate his dad for providing him the opportunity.

Fantastic well done and done the way it should be done

A big step toward manhood for your son on a path well laid by a wonderful father.

Congratulations to both of you.

Perry

So very cool and something I hope to be able to do some day.

A HEARTFELT congrats to you and your son...

I know the FEELING and it can be overwhelming no matter what age they are...

Well done!!!

Thanks for all the kind words gents. My boys have really been impressed by the words of encouragement from all over the globe. I hope the world will remain "same enough" that they could one day too share the joys and emotions of a hunt with their kids.

Well done, both of you! Congratulations on a great trophy!