(Sorry folks had to take a day and chase a crusty old mulie buck with my nephew)

The morning of the 4th day “we” pickup the tracks of buffalo at first light.
Willie and Bongaai dismount to canvas the sign, searching for evidence of a bull
in the group.
Returning minutes later I read their faces and unlimber my 375.
Without speaking or understanding the language, I know by the faces of these hunters
that there is a bull and its time to saddle up and move out.

Willie grabs shooting sticks, Bongaai fills a backpack with water.
Terry and I fill the barrels of our rifles with a live round and set the safeties.
We move out in our walking sequence, Trackers, PH, hunter and camera chick.
We follow the tracks thru the brush and grass, hard pack and wood lines.
By now I’m savvy to the finger snaps, hand signs and whistles.
The trail is followed as the buff meander feeding. At times lost but always found. Even I manage
to contribute a time or two and feel as part of the team, when rediscovering the sign, offer up the guinnea fowl call or a finger snap.

Black legs show thru the thorn when the small herd is spotted. Willie and Terry peer thru the
denseness trying to spot the bull but its just too thick and they wander out of view. We circle to reapproach and they catch our movement and crash away.
More tracking, more walking, more following. This is why I didn’t want to kill one on the first day.
This is the part I like…. Hunting and pursuing, tracking and walking.
Thus far they haven’t moved into the super thick of the riverine, I think thanks to the solid cloud cover and cooler temps of this morning.
An hour later we get a break and they are spotted in the open, unaware of us.
We backtrack and get a brush line between and now a short footrace. 600 yds of a medium speed dogtrot
to get caught up to the herd. We slow and ease into position.

At a distance of 250 yds Terry and Willie study with their binos and then putting their heads together
whisper back and forth for a short while. After several moments of conversation Terry turns to me.
“Joe” He says “there is a soft bossed bull in the group and not a trophy but I want you to shoot this bull”
He goes on before I can question his statement. “He either has a snare around his neck or has had
one recently and I don’t like the looks of it, I have 2 buffalo left on quota here and we are going to kill him as a precaution. We’ll put him down and continue your hunt for a trophy bull.”
“Sounds fine to me” I respond trying to control my glee of a practice run buff and the thoughts of getting to
maybe kill 2 Cape buffalo on my first hunt.

We slid around to the left and got to within 165 yds when the herd spotted us. Shooting sticks go up and
I get settled in.
Still some intervening brush and Terry motions me to follow him. We slide another 30 yds left and
crab into the wide open.
I’ve killed a lot of elk from the seat of my pants, shooting braced off the inside of knees and it’s this familiar position I take now.
All their heads are up staring our way and the bull is now in the clear. I dump the safety and centering the crosshairs on the point of his shoulder, gather the trigger and knock a front leg out from under him with the first 300 grn Barnes. The entire herd spins on its axis to go and I see the bull hobble maybe 15 yds before “sulling up”, the rest of the buff stall and mill with him.
Terry tells me to “give him another, when he clears” and I let him know I intend to.
45 seconds later the bull clears slightly with a cow behind, Terry cautions and I confirm,
When the cow clears from behind the bull I see him standing square on holding the foot off the ground and head hanging low.
I center the crosshairs on the spine line between his head and his withers and feed him a second
300 grn pill. That one does the trick and his hindquarters collapse first, dragging his fore end with it and his head slaps into the hard packed ground with a heavy thump that is “felt” as well as heard.
The rest of the buff mill for another 20 seconds but with the group of humans approaching, loose heart and
go off into the surrounding cover.
The mercy kill is still a hell of an experience, my first Cape buffalo! We get to the bull and handshakes are offered freely. The fellas are really excited and talking up a storm, Terry relays that they are excited
over the “long shot and being with a client that CAN shoot.”
Damn fine shooting”! He adds his complement to the mix and I’m walking 6 inches off the ground.
We burn up several dollars worth of digital film and I take the time to check out the snare wound and all the other corresponding parts of my first cape buff. (In the melee of photo taking no one takes a pic of the wound??)


Getting hot now and the fellas sweat the bull into the back of the cruiser and we head back toward camp.

I spend the next couple hours at the skinning tree keeping the variety of knives sharpened and am rewarded with a recovered slug as a treasure.
A bite of lunch and another standing room only shower leads to an evening cruise.
A Kudu bull spotted and chased and my bride “stealing” the cruisers driving duties from Steve (the appy) fills in the remainder of this remarkable day.

Morning of day 5
If I had thought it couldn’t get better, I was fixing to be re-educated with this days events
We hit the trail of 5 bulls shortly after daylight and caught them 20 minutes later in some thinner
cover, a young soft bossed bull is spotted first and while looking him over a 2nd bull sticks half of his head
out. All I remember is thinking his horns look like they are melted down the side of his face and in the small window I can’t see the return up.
“Jesus! Terry look at THAT one” I remember saying at the same time pointing. Terry follows my finger and throws up his glasses to have a good look, at the very same moment the bull withdraws.
Doesn’t matter we are after them. The next several hours are involved with tracking following and trying to get a full look at all 5 bulls. I think the sticks went up 4 different times and “it” just didn’t happen.

Fine by me. I loved every minute of the tracking and the chase. I was amazed at their ability to pick out a stationary human. 3 times we circled into their path and the 1st buff seen would spot us and take the rest away in their flight. This happened also on the last encounter in the more open cover and then an 800 yd foot race to try and cut them off from the super thick river cover. I lost steam after 600 yds about the same time I saw Terry pull up. My sweetheart came puffing up behind and offered “pretty good running for a 50 yr old”
Willie left us all in the dust and managed to get the bulls cut off, He said standing face to face with them
at 35 yds he turned to find that there was no PH and no client! And was surprised there wasn’t.
Said he tried to feint and bluff them to run back into the more open country but they were having none of it
and walked past him into the green wall of the riverine.
Terry called up the cruiser and Willie found us and led us to the entry point. We stood there making a “war plan” for the next 25 minutes. Sending the cruiser around to the riverside of the heavy cover, Kasi volunteered to get in the truck, saying it would be one less worry for the rest of us.
Terry hands me 4 solids for my 375 and tells me to change out my ammo. We take the time to water up and have a snack.
With that, Willie, Bongaai, Terry and I fall in on the tracks and enter the thick over grown “jungle”
We only go 75 yds and jump the group of bulls from where they had bedded. They surprise all of us when they jump up and had to of been able to hear all the talking and the cruiser driving in and out of the
area.
Tracking the bulls thru, we jump them twice more in the next 45 minutes never seeing anything more than shuddering brush and shadows. We are nearing the riverside edge of the vegetation now and I anticipate
getting into them 1 more time before they will leave the safety of the thick stuff. That happens moments later and we hear the game scout in the cruiser Guinnea call to us, charging forward we meet with the cruiser and spy the game scout a couple 100 yds down the path as he frantically points farther on.
Catching up with him and he relays that they have just entered a narrow strip of cover on the river edge.
This strip is 4-500 yds long and maybe 75 yds wide. We leave our trackers with the game scout and Terry and I push on to the right where this strip is cut by a road leading to the river.
Checking for tracks on the road we fine none and Terry guinnea calls to the trackers.
“We have 5 minutes to get in position” and I read the situation. An old-fashioned Cape Buffalo drive.
Entering our end of the strip we find an alleyway of clear that is 60 yds deep and 10 yds wide.
Stepping off to 1 side we have 4 yds of additional wiggle room.
Lets see how this is going to play out I think, if they do come down this alley, single file on the run
They’ll be at 30 before he will be able to tell me which bull and the shot will be “in your face”
close or passing at 6 yds!! By God, Now this is getting Western!!
The fellas must of started their “drive” cause we hear the buff go to busting brush and limbs
about 80 yds beyond the alley, then all sounds stop. The trackers hearing the buff, stop their drive.
Out in the river we can hear people talking and Willie calls out to them. I don’t understand Shona but it was clear the conversation went something like this
“Hey can you hear me?
Yeah, What’s going on?
We got some buff in this thicket, Can you see them?
No
Let us know if they run out on that side
Ok we will keep an eye out.

Now there were 50 or so people out there about 400 yds from the thicket, watering cattle and
doing laundry and such.
The drive continues and the brush goes to popping and Terry and I can see the treetops swaying
as the buffalo head straight for the far end of the alley. Terry says “Their coming.”
“Yep” I answer. “You ready?” He answers with a quick nod as the buff stop just short of entering the alley.
Willie again yells out to the river and with that we see the buff change direction and “push off”
of his voice headed in the direction of the river.
I don’t say a word and turn and run back the way we entered, I hear Terry pounding along with me and
we leave the cover and run out onto the open white sands of the Save river.
I expect to see buffalo as we get clear of the brush and failing that run farther out to get a clear field of fire.
Turning now and running back toward where the buff were in relation to the alley, Willie and the rest really
go to yelling and I see and hear the buff coming. Somewhere we’ve lost a couple bulls and only 3 bust into view
They come crashing off the bank and charging out into the sand at a lope, I hit the ground on the seat of my pants, Terry a yard to my left.
The buff come into view at 90 and are going to cross our front at 60, I hear Terry say “The front one”
and lock onto him thru my scope, Terry whistles and I see the lead bull break stride and start to pull up.
About 5 or 6 steps farther and he is stopped slightly quartering and I watch his Massive head swing around and eyes lock on us.
That’s all I need and send a solid his way trying to bust his shoulder with the shot.
Recoil, cycle, re-acquire , get another one into him! My mind yells the message.
The bulls are running side by side, going away and I line up on his tailpipe, drop the hammer again,
only to hear the click of the firing pin on an empty chamber, WTF! I jerk the bolt open and see the remaining shells canted in the magazine, rolling the top one with the fingers of my left hand they rise up square to the feeding channel and I slam the bolt home with a live one. 120 yds now but I’ve lost my steel.
I empty the next 3 shots at the running bull and know in my heart I haven’t touched him again.

The natives are stirred up now, the yelling and gunfire and running buffalo have them scrambling.
Kasi can’t see from her position but hears all this and is convinced somebody is being mashed by a buffalo.
Steve the appy comes boiling out of the cover packing a 458 and when he gets to us I swap him rifles as I have no more solids. Terry sends him back for the trackers and we start to make a little circle out into the river sand to look for blood and I ask Terry why he didn’t shoot to back me up.
“You don’t need any help, you shoot fine” was his response and I offer back that I lost my mind when
I dry fired the 2nd shot and had failed to break the shoulder as I had intended.
“The first shot looked good to me, but I want to give him 30 minutes before we go into any really thick stuff looking for him.”
Willie and and Bongaai are coming across the sand now and join up with us. Terry and Willie visit about the
buff and we fall onto their trail following along their tracks in the river sand.
The bulls had gone out of sight around a point of reeds about 225 yds from my shooting position and we make it beyond this point before finding any blood and even then its just a small drop or 2.
Damn, my guts are rolling now and I fear I’ve really screwed this up. Just not enough blood to suit me.
Terry comments his concern of no death bellow and we find a teaspoon of blood over the next 100 yds.
Coming up is an elevated island and the tracks disappear along the right side of it. Still tracking thou
I’m shadowing Bongaai on his right and see a strand of lung blood about the diameter of a piece of spaghetti.
All right, alright now we’re getting somewhere. 60 yds farther a 2nd piece about the size of your little finger nail.
Ok we got a lung, maybe only 1 and I again run thru his angle and where the crosshairs were
when the trigger broke. Should have 2 but right now I’ll take one.

We near the island and walk along the outside of a channel of water that hugs the 12-foot bank.
Steve and the game scout come trotting up from behind and Terry sends them around the island to check for tracks. This island is about 140 yds long and maybe 60 wide.
Steve makes a circle and reports back, no tracks. We follow the buff on and get to the other end of the island and see where they have climbed the bank. Standing on the edge of the wet channel I remind Terry
he wanted to allow 30 minutes. Glancing at his watch he says “Yeah and its only been 20”
With that we back out into the river sand and take a seat. I dig a couple bottles of water out of the backpack and hand one to the fellas and Terry and I share another.
I comment again on the lack of blood and Terry again mentions the lack of a death bellow.
I’m really kicking myself in the ass as I walk away to soak my hat in the river, its 105 and climbing.
Returning to the group I have just set down and received the water from Terry when
a mournful bovine voice is heard from the top of the island, The tension breaks with an audible crack
and smiles go all around. A minute later a 2nd is heard and we mark the sound at the base of a big tree.

We circle the island and approach from the opposite side, climbing the steep bank we know there may still be 2 bulls in there and we go at a snails pace.
Half way across the island Terry tells us to dump our safeties and be careful of our muzzles. It’s more open on this end of the island but the far end looks THICK.
Terry and I lead about 4 yds apart with Steve and Willie trailing 4 yds behind. 30 yds from “the tree”
We slow even more, its gotten tighter and Terry takes the lead with me following then Steve.
25 yds from “the tree” and a cobra glides across the trail 6 feet in front of us, we get to where the cobra was and spot a dark shape under “the tree.” Terry pulls down on it and I step out and left of Terry to clear my shooting lane and hang the 458 on the dark spot. Nothing moves… No sound and the world slows to a stop.
Terry’s talking “His heads up and he’s facing our way.” I look for a 2nd buff, the one I’m looking at is down on his left side facing away. “Where?” I whisper and Terry points with his rifle barrel, nudging the rifle with his shoulder not taking it down.
When I relay what I can see, he asks if I’m sure and I respond “100 percent, laying on his left side all 4 feet to the right and head facing away, chest is still”
I lean left and Terry leans into my view, after a second he grabs his binos and peers into the foliage.
“Ok, Ok, lets back out of here and come in from the other side” he says. We back up slowly until we have enough room to spread back out and approach the tree from the other side.
Coming into view is the “mother of all buffalo” and he is dead.

This little guy showed up with the folks
from the river.



You know the moment the PH and tracker get excited about animal that he is something special.
I KNEW he was BIG from a lifetime of looking at everyone else’s photos. I didn’t fully qualify him until minutes later Terry says “He’s Bloody Marvelous and will be 1 of the top 5 Buffalo killed in Zimbabwe This Year!! He is absolutely a Bloody MONSTER”!
I am in awe of such an animal and pause to offer my thanks to the “maker of the Mountains“
That my aim was true and all involved got thru it safely. At the same time I can’t keep my hand off of those
Coal black horns, the rough texture of the bosses converting to the silky smooth polish of the drop and hooks. He’s half again as big as the one from yesterday. Yesterday?? Damn that seems a lifetime ago.
Folks are showing up out of the bush now, Kasi and Lee walk in and a ½ dozen of the natives out of the river call from below and ask if he’s dead and can they come look at him.
It gets busy for the next hour, photos and bringing the cruiser in to load him. We made good use out of the extra help and in trade dropped a front quarter off to them later that day.

The fire feels good tonight and the extra ration I’ve got in my cup seems a fitting way to salute the bull
and send him on to the next world.
“Terry” I say after everyone else has gone to bed. “Thank you, you played this whole day like a fiddle,
every step the buff made you read and reacted and put them right in our laps when it all mattered.”

( And he did. Thanks again Terry, my friend. I tip another to you, tonight.)




Many thanks for the help



Kasi getting a buffalo lesson from Terry


Enjoy and safe travels

Outstanding story! What a great Bull.


.

Huge bosses on that buff. Great hunt report.

Congratulations!

INCREDIBLE!!!

Very happy for you and Kasi to share in a great experience...But I think you're both hooked...when are you booked to hunt with Terry again?

Now THAT IS A PROPER BULL!!!! Congratulations.

Wow what a buffalo, congrats.

BigB

Great buffalo and story behind it! Thanks for sharing!

Monster buffalo! Congratulations.

Hey ravenr: Is this the 47"er that John Hunt, Terry's former camp manager, had been talking about?

You are a real story teller and that is one fabulous buffalo!

Don't know nothing bout a 47"er

Ravenr,

What a great buff. Deep curls and what bosses!!! I'd trade that for a few inches in width any day. Congratulations on a great hunt and a truly great trophy.

Awesome bull. Love those bosses. Congrats.

If Terry told you it would go top 5 in Zim this year, did you provide you with a measurement of any sort? Just curious.

I have enjoyed your reports immensely. Thank you for going to all the effort and congrats on a great safari and some great trophies.

Congrats on a great safari. Glad you had a great trip!

One of the best reports I've ever read on AR! I am so happy for you bud!

quote:

Originally posted by drummondlindsey:
One of the best reports I've ever read on AR! I am so happy for you bud!

+1!

Absolute bruiser of a buffalo!

Great Buffalo!!
Congratulations again.

Great report and a monster bull. Well done.

The boss on that buff looks like J-Lo's butt!! Awesome!!

Damn that is a buffalo of two lifetimes! Well done!

great bull,
beautiful boss.

Great story JR!

Thank you for the many compliments
That was a story I enjoyed telling.
Hope to do it again soon. Until then
Safe travels

Ravenr, A wonderful read. Thank you.

Mike

Great report, and outstanding Buff...Butch

JR - Congrats man, glad to see you had a great hunt! That's truly a great bull, real happy for ya man.

Fantastic!!

Great success!

JR,
Many of us have had the same feelings along the way on one hunt or another, we just cant tell it like you.
Damn fine stroy. Thanks for taking us along i could fell the heat of the african sun right here in my office.

quote:

I have walked in the foot prints of the elephant, listened to lion roar and met the buffalo on his turf. I shall never be the same.

Thunder Head,

The Above is just perfect and no truer statement was ever made about Africa.

Mark

well done and well reported

Gorgeous bull and gorgeous photos.

Well done mate.

A story very well told and a great buff - well done.