Hunting in Africa can sometimes become pretty routine. You spot, select, stalk, shoot and take pictures. But every now and then a hunt can become magical … even a mystery. This past May I was hunting with Vaughan Fulton's Classic Safaris in Namibia. My guide was John Jacobs. John and I went looking for a good Springbok. I wanted to take one that had a horn length that exceeded 15-inches. John was sure that we could do it and we set out to find one. It started out like just any other hunt but it changed into a spiritual experience.

We located a very large herd of Springbok in the open dessert south of Brandberg Mountain. The group, which numbered over 300 animals, ran as soon as we topped the rise and came into view. John stopped the truck and we glassed the herd at a distance of over a thousand yards. Even at that distance we could see 5 or 6 large rams. The problem was that they were holding in the open with no way to approach them unseen. After awhile John came up with a plan. We would drive around the herd at distance and place ourselves down wind. As we got around, we drove down into a slight depression and stopped. We got out and John instructed our skinner (Amunyela Frans) to continue driving around the herd until he was back on the opposite side. He asked him to keep his distance but stay in sight of the herd. As he slowly drove off, John and I begin to move to the top of the recess and laid belly down and begin to glass. After 30 minutes the herd began to get nervous as the truck stopped and the skinner and game scout got out, stretching their backs, before laying down in the shade of the vehicle. By our good luck the herd began to feed in our direction. As they got closer I could make out a ram that had very tall horns that grew straight up with very little curve. His horns must have been 17-inches. Also in the herd was a ram pushing 16-inches and 3 or 4 more that would go 15 or better. The hunt became a waiting game and I was excited. As the herd got closer they reached a dry river bed and began to bunch up. About this time I saw other springbok coming in from both the left and right. There were a least 50 or more animals in each of these groups. The wind was still good, but I was sure that the groups coming in from the sides were going to spot us as they attempted to join the main herd. John looked at me and said we have to move and we began to belly craw closer to the main herd. The ground was rocky and we would pick up the rocks in front of us and move them to the side before we inched forward. We would then slide the rifle, which was on its bipod, forward before we slid up. Move the rifle – inch forward - move the rifle -inch forward. This went on for 30 minutes. We finally reached a point where it was too risky to go on. We then slid into some short grass for cover. At this point we were surrounded by springbok.

With our faces in the dirt we watched the main herd as they got to the edge of the dry river bed, which was about 300 yards out. There, they continued to bunch up with none of them wanting to go down into the river bed and loose sight of the truck. The animals were 20 plus deep and I knew that if I shot I would drop 3 or 4 animals with my 300 ultra mag. At this point it seemed hopeless. John smiled and said just wait … it will be alright. Yeah … right!!!! This whole situation was about to blow up in our faces. As I was preparing for them to all spook, a lamb dropped of the edge and ran down into the stream and the ewe, after some hesitation, followed. After that, the whole herd began to spill over the edge and out of sight.

Just as the groups coming in from the right and left got within 100 yards, the large herd began to come back into view on our side of the river bed. The distance was now down to 60 yards. I strained to see the 17-incher, but he did not come out. But through the grass I could see 4 rams now on the edge with a least 40 ewes behind them. They started to spar and the biggest of the rams, the one I guessed to be 16-inches, made a rush at the other 3 and they ran off to the side. At the same time the ewes and lambs behind them began to part like the red sea. Suddenly the big ram was standing facing me in the clear. John smiled and with no words spoken, I aimed at the base of his neck and squeezed a round off. All hell broke loose with the shot and springbok were running, jumping and pronging in all directions. When the dust settled, I looked but could not see the springbok I shot at. I turned to John, and with a pause, he said "God walks with you." I asked if I hit the ram and he said he yes … he went straight down. What a turn around … from sure disaster to success in just a few seconds. Wow!!!! I asked myself what the hell just happen. A miracle? John was still grinning like he knew something I did not. I was too excided for anymore reflection and ran to the edge of the river bed and found my springbok dead as a door nail with a broken neck. He was beautiful and the cape was not too damaged. He was old with the rings at the base of the horn compressed and his horns turned back. He measured 15-3/4-inches. Ya Hoooooo. Thank you Jesus!!!! Beer tonight.



Close up of my Springbok



John and I With the Miracle Ram

Great ram, congrats!
David

Magic or miracle? The answer is immaterial! You had a real hunt! This shows great thinking and planning by John; and equally great crawling and shooting execution by you. Isn’t it nice to feel that you have really earned such a trophy? Congratulations on a fantastic ram!

Just BTW, it is so refreshing to read a well-written story about a real hunt amongst the sometimes pathetic accounts about shooting immature animals from the back of a vehicle!

In good hunting.

Andrew McLaren

A good story well told.

Great read and that African mojo....

Mike

Congrats on a great trophy, hard earned.

Great trophy, well written story.

Thanks for posting this interesting story. I am booked with John next year in the same area. I hear good things about John and I'm looking forward to hunting with him.