That is one of the first questions Dave Rademeyer ever asked me as we drove away from a dirt landing strip on the savannah of The Central African Republic. Perhaps I am starting in the wrong place, do you start where the dream begins?
*
I will never forget the first time I saw a Lord Derby Eland. It was early 1999 and I had met a man name Cecil Hopper. Cecil was involved with the Houston Safari Club and I had read an article written in The Houston Press about some of his hunting adventures. I am sure there are some here that know Cecil and they will verify that Cecil had one of the most unbelievable trophy collections. This man had spent his life (and he wasn’t exactly a spring chicken in ’99) travelling the world and hunting what seemed to be 4 or 5 of every animal The Good Lord put on this earth. Cecil and I were talking one day and he started telling me about this trip he had planned to hunt Lord Derby Eland. I listened to him getting more and more excited with every word that came out of his mouth, I clearly remember looking around while he told me about it, thinking he had a whole wall full of Eland, an entire warehouse full of some of the most exotic creatures on the planet, wondering if this eland was something special, or does this guy just have the “bug”? A couple of months later my question was answered. I went by and visited Cecil when he got back from his hunt. He had taken an Eland and pulled out a bundle of pictures to show me. Now, I am admitting that this was the first Lord Derby Eland I had ever seen, And I understand that I was completely out of my element in judging the “trophy quality” of this creature. But, I can state as fact, I was totally unprepared for what Cecil was about to show me. Forget horn length or mass or anything you associate with “trophy”, this animal was a beast, a mass of muscle, highlighted by vertical white stripes, ascending up to a massive hump above his shoulders. The hump was topped by a ridge of black hair that carried to the base of his neck and turned into a black thick mane that covered his entire neck. The mane appeared to be wet and covered the elands entire neck from top to bottom where this beasts neck turned into a dewlap the size of a sail. The dewlap ran from below his brisket to the base of his chin, and just as you were beginning to get your mind around what this thing looks like, you look at its head. This old man redefined the term “Roman nose”, this set below a face and forehead covered in the same black hair as his mane, so thick, you could barely see his eyes. His face was covered in fresh mud that went all of the way to the top of his head between the base of his horns. The horns were covered in mud as well and appeared to be 4 feet long, they appeared to be so heavy at the base that you couldn’t put both hands around them. They looked like something powerful had twisted them 360 degrees from the base, a heavy defined ridgeline followed the twist as if the horns had actually been forced into a shape they were not supposed to be. His ears drooped lifelessly what appeared to be 2/3rds the length of his head. I would spend the next 12 years dreaming about this beast, speaking of it as if it were some mythical creature I would never see.
*
I watched AR over the years, seemed every year, one or two reports would pop up of someone going to either Cameroon or C.A.R. and taking an Eland. Right on schedule, mid to end February, 2 AR members posted reports, one from C.A.R. (Ahmed Sultan) and one from Cameroon (Reddy375). Both included pictures of monstrous Eland, it was like pouring gasoline on a fire, oh well, maybe someday.
Three days after I read Arjun’s post on Cameroon, a post came on the Offered hunts forum titled “Northern Operations Africa”. It offered a last minute cancellation hunt for Lord Derby in CAR with a man named Dave Rademeyer. The hunt was March 8 – March 24, 11 days away, I closed the post and continued on with my day. My day was spent thinking about the hunt, could it be done on such short notice? How smart was it to take this trip without completing any research or not knowing anything about the outfit? I even went as far as calling my wife to ask her what she would think about me going to C.A.R. in a week or so. She assured me that she would cover things while I was gone and thought that I should consider the opportunity. I went back to the post to see if anything had been added and found that Will Parks (safarilawyer) had posted that he knew Dave and Thierry and was planning on this hunt in 2012 or 2013. I sent Will a message and asked him to call me, within 30 minutes we were on the phone discussing everything he knew about this outfit, He had hunted and was friends with Thierry, He was disappointed that he couldn’t take advantage of this opportunity due to work, his confidence in these people seemed unshakeable. That 20 minute phone call completed my research, or “due diligence” on the hunt I had dreamed about for over a decade. Next, I sent Maria Rademeyer an email inquiring about some of the finer details of the hunt, location, weather, flights, visas, gun permits, etc.. Maria immediately replied with a detailed organized email that explained and answered all of my questions. I contacted AirFrance and checked availability of flights then confirmed the flight times and numbers with Maria. I was concerned about the fact that I did not have a Visa for C.A.R., as this is usually taken care of months before through the Embassy. Maria assured me that they could handle it upon my arrival and immediately put me in contact with Charlotte in C.A.R. who would be meeting me at the airport. Charlotte spent 10 or 15 minutes on the phone with me and explained how everything would work upon my arrival and assured me there would be no problems. I spent the weekend discussing the details with my wife and Monday morning I signed Northern Operations Africa’s contract and booked the airfare. The hunt I had dreamed about for over a decade had been found, researched and booked in less than 3 days, I would leave in a week.
*
Tuesday, March 8th, I left after work for Paris, the flight was uneventful and I arrived in Paris 9 hours later. I made my way to the gate for my flight to Bangui where I met Graham Turner who would be the other hunter in camp. The flight from Paris to Bangui went smoothly and we touched down just after dark. We walked off the plane onto the tarmac in the sweltering heat and made our way to the “terminal”, an open multi-story concrete structure, filled with sweating, bustling Africans. As I approached the immigration desks a tall thin white girl emerged from the crowd and grabbed Graham and I and said to follow her. As we approached the immigration gates, the soldiers opened the gates and we passed through without a word. Charlotte asked for our passports, walked both of us to the baggage belt and instructed us to get close to the belt, because in a matter of minutes all of the people being retained by the military were going to be in there with us and we would not be able to get a place where we could claim our bags, with that, Charlotte disappeared back into the crowd. She wasn’t exaggerating, in a matter of minutes the gates opened, both for the people coming off the planes and for the people waiting to meet them and we were swallowed by a crowd of darkness. Graham and I spent an hour pushed up against the baggage belt praying for our bags to arrive. Finally, we acquired our bags and guns and Charlotte walked us through a maze of gates and military personnel without a question or cross look. We walked out of the terminal and loaded our bags into the back of her cruiser, leaving the airport. One of the first things I noticed was that there are no street lights in Bangui, You drive through a city populated by some 1.5 million Africans in the dark, there are people everywhere on the street that are revealed only by the halo of the cruisers headlights as you speed through the city. Charlotte took us to dinner then onto the apartment to get a few hours sleep before we flew out to the hunting area early the next morning.
We arrived back at the airport at 5am the next morning, once again, Charlotte walked us through the maze of security gates, soldiers and the masses waiting in lines to go through the same gates we just walked through, out onto the tarmac to a Cessna Caravan being loaded with supplies. Our bags and guns were loaded onto the plane and we began our 3 hour journey to the hunting block.


Dave and Thierry were waiting for us at the landing strip in their cruisers, a friendly handshake, a bottle of water and a shot through the 375 to make sure it was on and we were off. It is a 4 hour drive to the camp and was uneventful most of the way, I enjoyed seeing the Savannah and the little bit of wildlife we could see from the truck. Dave was pleasant to talk to, He explained the ins and outs of Eland hunting here, I was getting excited as the man seemed to be passionate about what he does. This is where he presented the question that began this report, “What is your dream eland”? What a question, what is the answer? Something for the Record Books? Horns longer than the invisible 50” mark? I guess the only marker I had was the picture I had seen standing with Cecil over a decade ago, I have seen many Eland since but never one that moved me like that, and I don’t know what it scored or measured, how do you describe something that affects you like that? How do you explain to an expert something you know very little about? So, I tried to describe what I remembered to Dave, the long black hair covering the neck and face, the giant dewlap, the giant ears, the mud, the mass and ridges of the horns. The look of age coupled with exhaustion and dominance. As I grasped for the right words, I looked at Dave and saw a smile that conveyed that he understood.
*
About an hour and a half outside of camp came that magical sound of a tracker tapping on the roof, “eland” is all I heard. I looked about 200 yards in front of us and off to the left you could see a large group of eland walking away from us. My peripheral vision caught something to my left and I turned to see my rifle being handed down to me from the rack. I stepped out and laid the rifle across the hood and literally, the first animal I saw was a monstrous bull. He was walking to the left and looked as if he could barely hold his head up. A monstrous dewlap came out from beneath his brisket and went all the way to his chin, the mass of skin hung just inches above the scorched earth and gave the entire animal a shape that I don’t know how to describe. His neck and face were covered in black hair and he carried his horns laid back parallel to the top of his neck. The horns swept all of the way back and ended above a huge hump covered in the same black hair. This was my “dream eland”. About the same time I realized that I needed to breathe, the Eland turned to his right and began walking away from us the direction of the herd. I turned and looked at Dave holding his binoculars on the other side of the cruiser and the look on his face said it all. There were 2 times on this hunt that I would give anything to have a picture of his face and this was one of them. His eyes were the size of silver dollars and appeared to be solid white, “did you see that bull in the back?”. I informed him that I was on that “bull in the back”. “Why didn’t you shoot?” he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me to shoot?” was my reply. “That was the first Lord Derby Eland I have ever seen in my life, I couldn’t even breathe, much less shoot.”. This interaction was followed by a quick dissemination of orders to the trackers to get the packs and water along with what I would learn over the next two weeks to be Dave’s repertoire of client orders “Come!”, and you came or got left, the chase was on. We ran down the road and caught up to the herd but the herd bull had disappeared. The herd was larger than we originally observed and Dave estimated it at 60-70 animals. We stopped and watched through our binoculars as the herd walked away from us, all we could make out was young bulls, calves and cows. The wind swirled and the eland caught are scent and were out of sight in a flash. We began walking at a quick pace the direction they ran and within 10 to 15 minutes the trackers caught up to us and Ferno the head tracker took the lead following the herd. We tracked for close to an hour before we saw them again, the dung got fresher and the mopane bees became quite thick when you began getting close to the herd. Suddenly Ferno freezes in mid stride, Dave’s binoculars come up and the two trackers behind me crouch down as if a timing gear is working the whole chain. I picked my binoculars up and immediately saw flashes of rumps and heads moving through the trees about 100 yards in front of us. Dave whispers for me not to move because some cows are watching us. I pick through the body parts trying to find a bull and can’t find anything. Within a minute the eland have made us and are off again. For those of you who have never experienced hunting Lord Derby Eland, this is what it is. You spend all day on track bumping these animals, hoping the right animal is in the right place to give you a shot. They run and you walk another 30 minutes to an hour and you bump them again, the larger the group, the harder it is to find the one you are looking for. More Eland mean more eyes looking at you and the bull you want never seems to be where you can see him, but you know he is in the herd and all you need is for him to screw up once. We spent the rest of the afternoon following the herd, getting glimpses every 30 minutes or so, never to see the big herd bull again before they ran off. As the afternoon turns into evening, the eland become more relaxed and tend to stand and look at you longer. At about 5pm we get on the herd again and this time we can see quite a few of them, we appear to be standing next to the herd rather than just catching a few at the back like we have been all afternoon. Dave puts the sticks up and I get on them with my rifle, knowing that if we can find our bull that I will only have a second to take him before he disappears again. I hear Dave whisper that he sees a big bull, I instinctively look at him to see where he is looking, he describes a tree and immediately I am on the bull. You can just see his shoulder but can tell that it is a larger animal than all of the others. The bull steps out from behind the trees to reveal a massive set of horns with long tips sweeping back past his hump. I can’t judge these animals, but this bulls horns appear to be far longer than the bull we saw at the truck. He has a big body, a big dewlap but does not have the hair on his neck and face like the bull I saw previously. Dave states that this is a huge eland and feels he will go 50” maybe more. At that point and time I could not put my finger on it, but something just didn’t click, Dave could see it and asked what I thought, “that’s not him” I replied. As if on cue, the bull turned and the herd disappeared into the trees. Dave smiled a knowing smile (or was it a smurk?) as we continued following the herd. We got on the herd one more time before it got dark down on the edge of a big open flat, everytime you get on these eland the thought starts running through your head “is this it? Is this where 12 years of dreaming becomes reality?” You begin looking all around taking in the scenery, wanting to save as much as you can in your mind before you tell yourself to snap out of it and focus before you screw this opportunity up. We had the eland pushed down to the edge of the trees on the opening and you could tell they did not want to go out into the open. We found a small opening where they were going to have to funnel through if they did not want to go out into the flat and set up as the Eland began filing through it. Unfortunately, many of the eland slowed down as they whent through the opening which caused them to back up and begin making their own trail on the other side of the herd and once again, we never saw the bull. It was dark and we were a long way from the cruiser and decided it was time to call it a day, we would pick the herd up where we left them the next morning. As we trotted back to the cruiser through the darkness, my mind was in a spin trying to process all that had happened in the last 10-12 days. 7+ hours and 20-25 kilometers after we left it, we made it back to the cruiser and headed to camp, filthy, exhausted and overflowing with excitement, hope and anticipation for the next day.
*
The next day began as the rest would at 4am, 2 eggs and a 2 hour cold ride in a cruiser to try and find the tracks of the herd we left behind 10 hours earlier. We cut the herds tracks around 7am and resumed the chase. We were moving at a pretty good clip because we thought we were at least a couple of hours behind them. About 15 minutes into the tracks Ferno froze and I could see the eland feeding through the trees 150 yards or so in front of us. We picked through them and couldn’t find the bull before they made us and were off again. The rest of the morning was spent with more of the same, we got on the herd half a dozen times but couldn’t ever find the bull. Everytime we got on them they seemed to be more and more jumpy, they broke faster and ran further trying to put distance between us. About lunch time, the herd wandered down into a valley and we sprinted up the hill to try and cut them off and hopefully get a shot from above them. As we crested the hill overlooking the valley, I was amazed at what I saw, probably 200’ in elevation below us there was a sea of Eland walking through the trees, spread out over probably 500 yards of Savannah. Dave said there had to be at least 100 eland in this herd, It was the first time we ever got to see a big piece of the group. Unfortunately, we couldn’t find the bull before the herd disappeared around the bend in the valley. We walked down the hill and continued following them, the wind changed and was blowing our scent to them now and we were only seeing running eland each time we got close to the herd. Dave made the call that we were just chasing them and thought we should pull off and try to find them in the morning. It was around 2pm and by the time we made it back to the cruiser it had been 7 hours on foot and 20+ kilometers. We ate lunch by the cruiser in a bako (creek bed), and relaxed until about 4 before heading out for an afternoon drive. The afternoon drive was uneventful, I did get to watch Dave try to catch a crocodile by the tail. I was laughing so hard I don’t know if I would have been able to do anything if it would have turned on him rather than run away when he grabbed it. Just before dark we say a nice Red Flanked Duiker, unfortunately all I had was my 375 with tsx’s, a short stalk and I talked the duiker into posing for pics in return for not blowing a giant hole in him. For any of you planning to go on a hunt like this, I would strongly suggest making your second gun a .22, I wish I had.

Day 3 was the same drill, 4am, a couple of eggs and a couple of hours in a cold cruiser. We first went by a saline (salt lick) tha t was on the opposite side of the road in the block we had been tracking the Eland in. We parked a good ways and walked into the saline, immediately we saw that a herd of eland had been there as well as buffalo. Dave had set up a trail cam just before he the hunt began and we viewed the pics on his camera.







The Eland had been there as well as bushbuck, roan, pigs and buffalo. There was one shot of a mature bull but for some reason the tracks looked like most of the herd had not actually walked up to the saline. We decided to carry on and stay on the herd we had been chasing. Back to the cruiser and headed South down the road, after a few Kilometers we noticed eland tracks in the road and stopped to inspect them. It appeared to be the same herd heading to the saline we had just left. I asked if it was our herd and Dave confered with the trackers. They weren’t sure but this looked like a smaller group and the Eland would have had to change directions 180 degrees from where they were headed when we left them. We decided to go back into the block and try to pick them up where we left them. We drove 6 or 8 kilometers Southeast and then set out on foot, we headed Northeast in hope of shaving off a few kilometers before crossing the herds tracks. After an hour or so we realized that something had happened, the eland had not continued in the direction they were headed because we had not crossed their tracks. We circled back to the West a ways and then South until we crossed the herds tracks, followed the tracks East for a Kilometer until we found where the herd had stopped, turned on a dime and then headed back West. I am not exaggerating when I say that where they had stopped and turned was less than 100 yards from where we had crossed a n hour or so earlier. As the realization set in that we had wasted 2-3 hours of the most valuable hours of the day, we continued tracking the Eland as they had walked West. With every step it became more and more likely that our herd had been the tracks we had seen in the road, and if that was our herd than it had been our herd at the saline earlier that morning. I began asking Dave about this and I could tell that the subject was like fingernails on a chalkboard to him. “Hey Dave, looks like these Eland are heading towards the road”, “yep”, “Hey Dave, do you think that was our herd that crossed the road this morning?” “I don’t know Brad”, “Hey Dave, if that was our herd that crossed the road, doesn’t that mean that was our herd at the saline?” “could be Brad”, “Hey Dave, don’t you love when your hunters armchair quarterback you?”. I’d say I felt bad about screwing with him, but I’d be lying. I could tell Dave was hesitant to skip over the tracks and go straight to the saline after the schooling we had received first thing this morning with the herd turning on us. It was impressive to watch Dave process, weigh and decipher the information we were gathering with every step trying to find the right time to skip ahead so we didn’t let the lesson from the morning burn the entire day. Dave had also voiced that he was concerned because the Eland at the saline had headed into a part of the block where there were no roads, and thus very hard to control. He knew that our herd was getting more and more difficult to reach and stay on with every passing minute. It was past lunch and Dave finally made the call that these were indeed the same eland and we sent one of the trackers back for the cruiser as we cut a beeline for the road to meet him. We arrived back at the Saline about 1pm and ate a quick lunch, Dave decided we were going to track the eland back into the block just to try to get an idea where they were and make a plan for tomorrow. We tracked the Eland until about 3pm and came to a bend in a creek where it looked like all of the Eland had piled up but had not crossed the creek. Dave made the decision that we needed to head back before it got too late, I took a drink and the trackers went down into the bako to wash their faces and get a drink out of the creek. Moments later, Lowa came running out of the creek pointing back saying the only word he knows in English, “Eland, Eland”. Dave and I raced down into the creek and jumped across, as we came out of the bako I could see the herd of eland trotting away from us about 120 yards away. Dave threw up the sticks and raised his binoculars, My rifle went across the sticks and the first Eland I saw was the old bull trotting away, his head was down and horns laid back across his back, at the exact same moment I heard Dave say “he’s in the back, shoot”. Just as he said that the Eland was going through a small break in the trees, but in the second it would take me to pull the trigger, he was through it. I quickly glanced ahead of him through my scope and found another break maybe 2 feet wide he would trot past and just as I found it he went past it, my instincts took over and I pulled the trigger. The bull jumped and kicked his hind legs before taking off like a rocket. I feel obliged to stop here and make the statement that you are reading this which took some time, but this whole transaction went down, from the time we ran out of the bako till the time I shot in about 3 or 4 seconds. The bull was a little over 150 yards when I shot and Dave and I took off running after them. The trackers had caught up to us by the time we got to where the eland was when I shot, we immediately saw blood on the ground and Dave barked orders in some convoluted mixture of English/Shona/French/Sango to the trackers to stay with the blood. Dave and I ran ahead with him barking orders at me to shoot the Eland anywhere I could get a shot as soon as we saw it. Just as he said that I looked to my right and saw the giant bull lying dead on its side 30-40 yards away. I punched Dave in the arm as he was running away from me, “hey, look right there”, I pointed to the eland. He turned to me with a crazed look on his face (this is the other time I wished I had a picture of Dave), I didn’t know if he was going to hit me, “there”, I pointed again, I saw he was looking over the eland, past it for something standing, “there, he’s dead!!” I yelled. Dave immediately dropped his stare and focused on the dead bull. An immediate look of relief flooded his face, then a victorious smile, the bull was finished. My shot had entered his left side back in his short ribs, travelled the entire length of his chest and lodged just under the skin in front of his right shoulder. The TSX had blendered his vitals. After 12 years of dreaming, 6000 miles across the world and over 30 miles on foot, there he was, laying at my feet.




The next day was spent recovering from the first three, we slept late (5:30am), and drove around looking for buffalo sign to no avail. Day 5 we were back up at 4am for a couple of eggs and a cold ride in the cruiser. About 9am we found some fresh buffalo tracks and set out on them, a couple of hours later we found 3 cows and a calf laying in the shade. We stood for probably half an hour watching them, trying to find the rest of the herd with our glasses, to no avail, the wind swirled and they were off. In the afternoon we walked into the bakos to call blue duiker, this is an experience if you have never done it, it is an absolute blast. The crazy little bastards (about the size of a Chihuahua), come charging in looking for a fight. You have a split second to determine if it is a male and to shoot, would defenitiely be easier with a shotgun than with the .22 I borrowed. I didn’t get one, but had a blast doing it. Day 6 was spent scouting a new area for Yellowback Duiker (my other desired species), walked 10-15 k’s to no avail, saw some buffalo but no shooter bulls.
*
Day 7 we headed out to check a bako that Dave said may hold some Yellowback. We walked down into the reed bed that surrounded the bako and immediately found fresh buffalo spoor. We followed the spoor and it led us directly into a monstrous bako. The only way I could describe these bako’s is “jungle”, huge trees, thick, broadleaf plants, most places you cannot see more than 3-5 yards. We followed the buffalo further and further into the jungle. I could tell that the mood was getting more and more tense as we followed the tracks into the thicker and thicker jungle. Suddenly, Ferno froze and pointed in front of us, I could hear something walking, crunching the dried leaves that covered the jungle floor, closer, closer, it stopped, Fernos eyes were the size of saucers, suddenly he covered his ears and leaned back, to get out of the way of whatever was coming and me. Just as I pulled my rifle to my shoulder, there was a flash of movement and some creature about the size of a deer rocketed between Dave and Ferno (who were only standing about 2 feet apart, and Dave was right next to me). I mean, this thing was hauling ass, it was there and gone in less than a second. With a muffled yell, Dave turned to me with those wild eyes and said “YELLOWBACK!!”. Ferno put his finger to his lip, pointed to our right and said “Dijon” (yellowback), he could hear another one. He began calling and you could hear the second one walking through the leaves, closer and closer, it began calling back to him, closer and closer, this time I was ready. It sounded like it was less than 5 yards away when it stopped, I waited, searching down the barrel of my rifle for any movement, but nothing, then in a flash it turned and noisily ran into the forest, never to be seen. We all caught our breath and suddenly the forest exploded about 30 yards away, Dave grabbed my arm and said “buffalo!!”, then another explosion on the other side, more buffalo, then another. We had tiptoed into the area that the buffalo were sleeping, there were little groups all around us. For those of you who have never been in tight quarters with buffalo when they realize you are there, it is hairy. Getting charged is not the concern, getting run over in the confusion as a bunch of 1500 pound animals try to get the hell out of there is, whether by malice or blind panic, the results are the same. What’s the old joke? What is the black stuff between buffalo hooves? Slow natives, I guess you could add hunters to that. Finally everything settled down and we gathered our faculties, scraped out our drawers and began walking the direction the buffalo had gone. We hadn’t picked through 100 yards of jungle and Ferno froze again, pointing in front of him. My eyes strained and I could make out some black through the jungle about 15-20 yards in front of us. I picked up my binoculars (which worked more like a microscope in there) and picked over what I determined was definitely a buffalo, I just couldn’t tell what part. Dave whispered “bull”, I continued searching the bits and pieces and finally though I caught a fraction of a boss, at that moment, the bull figured out what we were as well and bulldozed about 30 yards of jungle as he exited. Dave decided that we needed to get out of there, he felt we would never get a shot in those tight quarters and there was a pretty good chance someone would get stepped on. We began making our way to the edge of the bako, we bumped a couple more buffalo along the way. Finally making it to the edge we stepped out at the exact same moment a monster of a bull stepped out about 80 yards away, he raised his head and looked down his nose at us in that stare that only buffalo can give. Dave said “shoot”, my gun came up and I could not tell exactly how he was standing. He was facing us, but was his butt to the left or the right? Dave whispered forcefully again “SHOOT!”, just as he said that the bull shifted his weight and I could tell his butt was left, I put the gun just left of his chin and pulled the trigger. The bull raired up as his body absorbed the bullet and his chin hit the ground, he darted to the right back towards the bako, I chambered another round and got one more in him as he disappeared back into the jungle. Silence amongst the entire crew as we listened to the bull crash through the jungle, then came the sound of the bull bellering, but it wasn’t the typical “death bellow”, I asked Dave about it and he said he didn’t know, something was different, you could see the hesitation on everyone’s face as the realization set in that we were going to have to go find the bull. Silently, we slipped back into the jungle, tip toeing, freezing at every foreign sound. We spent probably 45 minutes going 70 or 80 yards before Dave stopped and pointed, “there! He’s dead”. A sigh of relief as we walked up to an absolute monster Western Savannah Buffalo. The bullet had entered the base of his neck on his right side, blown through both lungs, his liver and gotten lost somewhere back in his paunch. The second shot had gone in his flank and into his hips. Once again, the TSX’s had worked like a dream.







The next four days were spent searching that same bako for the Yellowback to no avail. We set up trail cameras and got pictures of blue duiker, red river hog, and all kinds of other animals but no Yellowback.



The late mornings and afternoons were spent searching for another buffalo and whatever else we could stir up. We tracked down and got on several more bulls, but nothing I wanted to shoot, I was looking for an old worn down bull. On the last morning of the hunt we were looking for buffalo, we were driving looking for tracks when an old harnessed bushbuck ran across the road in front of us. Dave threw on the brakes and we took off out of the cruiser after it. We caught one short glimpse of him as he disappeared into the trees. By this time Ferno caught up to us and we began tracking the bushbuck. We tracked him for probably 45 minutes, bumping him a couple of times but never getting a shot. Ferno lost the tracks and was circling as Dave and I picked up our glasses to search in front of us, almost immediately I saw the bushbuck standing about 120 yards away looking back at us “put up the sticks”, Dave must have seen him at the same time because as I said that, the sticks were going up. The buck was facing away from us and I sent one just left of his left hip, he jumped and ran to the left. Dave and I ran probably 30 yards and saw him limping away from us obviously hit, I put another one in the same place and the old buck fell. We trotted another 30 yards towards the bushbuck and the savannah erupted to our left, apparently a herd of 20 or 30 buffalo had been lying under the trees 70 or 80 yards away and had decided not to run until they saw us. We sprinted to the bushbuck, confirmed he was dead, covered him with some branches and took off after the buffalo. After about 45 minutes to an hour of tracking we came to the realization that the buffalo were not slowing down, they had actually jumped off of a 10’ high bank as the barreled through a ravine, after that they fell into a straight line which Dave said was a sign that they were not going to stop anytime soon. We headed back to our bushbuck, no need to get greedy. The buck was a great old male, he had worn down his tips and very little hair on the back of his neck.

Believe it or not, this has been the “Readers Digest” version, those thirteen days were filled with experiences, adventures, stories and companionship that I have neither the time nor compulsion to put down. Northern Operations Africa is a top notch operation and Dave and his wife Maria are consumate professionals with an eye for detail and a desire for perfection. Dave’s experience as a ph is immense which makes for a top notch trip and some amazing stories. I would love to share some of the stories he told me, but they are his, and I could never do them justice. If you ever have the desire to hunt the classic Spiral horns (Lord Derby Eland, Bongo, Sitatunga or Mountain Nyala), I think you would be doing yourself a disservice to go with anyone else. I would like to take this time to thank Dave and Maria (I hope they read this), for what has been hands down, the greatest hunting experience of my life (and I have been on a few)

Awesome. I'm glad it worked out SO well.

Classic Derby Eland.

Monster W.S. Buff.

Will,
Thanks for the reference.
Brad

Great report! Congrats with your ld eland and all the other great thropy's!! Thank's for sharing!

Nils-Ole

That is one hell of a hunt!!!!

Super cool and congrats on fantastic trophies and one hell of an adventure.

Great photos, love the LDE.

A fantastic report - thank you.
A classic tale of hard work, good luck, quality teamwork and wonderful trophies.
Congratulations.

Wow - top stuff!! Love those eland!!

Congrats on a great hunt. Fantastic animals. Paragraphs, man, paragraphs. My old eyes have a hard time with unbroken prose. Just kidding, great report.

Great report on an awesome hunt!

Thanks for sharing,
Jason

Outstanding report and awesome photos. Thanks!

For someone anal-retentive and with CDO (it's like OCD but the letters are in the right order ) the 11 days of preperation and research is simply amazing. What a leap of faith...congratulations.

quote:

Paragraphs, man, paragraphs. My old eyes have a hard time with unbroken prose. Just kidding, great report.

I agree!! does anyone know how? when I put the spaces and paragraphs in the post they disappear as soon as I post it. You notice I put the asteriks between them, any help would be appreciated, by all I am sure.

Thanks for making my day with this great report. What a magnificent eland !!!! That's a trophy we all dream with...

Congrats !!!

L

hey Brad, you told me in Moz. that you don't smile for trophy pictures- YOU LIED!!! CONGRATULATIONS ON A LEAP OF FAITH THAT TURNED OUT WELL.

Indeed a hunt of a life time and one of Africa's most sought after game animals.

Brilliant report and very well done on your Lord Derby.

Brad - Asolutely fantastic that was my first thought,

Second , congratulations on a great hunt,

Thirdly, you bastard, now I am green with envy, I dream of Lord Derby , one day, one day , I will make my dream come true

Once again, congrats buddy

Wow!

Thanks very much for the great report.

Definitely on my list, maybe 2013/14.

Dugong

Excellent hunt and writing. Thank you for sharing it with us!
Cliff

Brad,

Great report! Way to take advantage of a terrific opportunity. I look forward to hearing more of your hunt in a few weeks.

Cheers,

George

Brad,

Very nice!

Mark

Brad..Hell of a report..thanks

Congratulations on your dream Lord Derby Eland!!

Brad,
Great hunt report & congrats on a beautiful Eland!
Easily one of the top trophies in all of Africa.
Well done.
JB

Brad:

Great report. Congrats on some outstanding trophies.

Congrats on your hunt. You took some really nice game!

Be prepared for that eland though. I just got mine back and it will suck up a room. Those things are huge! It is fun to see the expressions of non hunters when they see it for the first time.

I really like your's in that it has a very dark mane. A true trophy for sure!

Fantastic eland Brad! Congratulations!!!

Brett

Brad,
Great report, it's clear from your writing that you really were living your dream on this hunt.

Looking forward to hearing more in a couple of weeks.

Chris

That was great report. I was right there with you. Well written. Thanks for taking the time.

Brilliant report, thank you for sharing! We were right there with you chasing your Lord Derby Eland. My God, what a magnificent creature. The entire hunt sounds like it was a dream come true. Again, thanks for taking the time and effort to do a report for our benefit.

Great report of a great hunt, enjoyed it thoroughly. Congratulations on some super trophies.You are lucky that your Eland still had nice mane in March.

quote:

Originally posted by 505 gibbs:
hunting Lord Derby Eland, this is what it is. You spend all day on track bumping these animals, hoping the right animal is in the right place to give you a shot. They run and you walk another 30 minutes to an hour and you bump them again, the larger the group, the harder it is to find the one you are looking for.

You have very nicely put what LD Eland hunting is all about.

From your account it seems that this area had more LDEs than the area I went.

Very nice report and superb trophies! Well done!

He is a beast! Great hunt and report.

Congratulations! A magnificent trophy and an experience to match.

quote:

Originally posted by jwm:
Congratulations! A magnificent trophy and an experience to match.

+1
Welcome home.

incredible hunt and great report. Thanks and congrats!!!

Thats a great Eland congratulations.

Arjun Reddy
www.huntersnetworks.com

I would love to draw down on one with 36" horns, and when I mount him with the tips of the horns seven feet off the ground, the dewlap drags.

But, this one would be close enough for me...

Nice Bull!

Rich

One other tiny detail: I want to take him at very close range with BP Loads in the Ten Bore DR that Colin Stolzer is building me. A year from tomorrow morning would work.

What an incredible safari, congratulations!

One of these days...

Hello

Now that is an exciting hunt, the Eland and the Buffalo are outstanding, Congratulation. I enjoyed your report and photos very much.

Regards
Aziz

Wonderful hunt and trophies! Thanks for taking the time to share -- you really took us there.

quote:

Originally posted by Idaho Sharpshooter:
I would love to draw down on one with 36" horns, and when I mount him with the tips of the horns seven feet off the ground, the dewlap drags.

But, this one would be close enough for me...

Nice Bull!

Rich

One other tiny detail: I want to take him at very close range with BP Loads in the Ten Bore DR that Colin Stolzer is building me. A year from tomorrow morning would work.

Nice bull!

That is an incredible trophy. The Lord Derby has to be one of Africa's most desirable trophies and if there was one animal I could hunt it would be that. Screw the other spirals.

There is a woolly Kudu in Ethiopian and another that is Lesser. You can get a pack of dogs and some midgets to bring down your Bongo but it ain't royal game.

quote:

You can get a pack of dogs and some midgets to bring down your Bongo