Where: Royal Kafue / Zambia
When: 8/23/13 – 9/5/13
PH: Andrew Baldry (Fairgame)
Guns: Kimber 8400 Classic .300WSM (180g TSX) & Winchester 1895 .405WCF (400g Woodleigh FMJ)

Please be patient with me, as I have just gotten back to work and things are crazy, I will try to post a day everyday (Days when no game were taken will come quicker). This was a terrific experience, I truly entered it with no expectations other than I wanted to hunt hard. I believe my only request to Andrew was that when we were finished I wanted to need a vacation from my vacation, and so the Kafue Death march began……

Day 1

I guess technically, this was not even day one, rather it was the day we drove into camp. We shot the guns on the way in and everything was on then continued on to camp.
Settled in with enough daylight left to take a 30-45 minute walk to a floodplain where Andrew had seen some Sitatunga sign. We made it to the spot and Andrew thought we
would climb up into an ancient fig tree for a bird’s eye view. Once in the tree we could see over the long grass around the tree to the Kafue River and reeds behind us and
to the brush line about 350-400 yards in front of us. We sat in the tree glassing every direction, after about an hour I caught a glimpse of 2 animals moving through a
break in the grass along the brush line in front of us. I told Andrew where they were but that time they were gone. I continued watching and about 10 minutes later, the
larger of the 2 came walking out of the brush line directly in front of us. When I say this thing was a beast, I mean it was a beast. A body that was so red it looked like
it was on fire, mounted on 4 jet black legs and crowned with a white mane that began on its forehead and went ¾ the length on its body. As it trotted towards us, what stood
out was a set of ears that looked the size of an elephants flopping on both sides of its grotesque face. I looked at Andrew as he looked at it through his binoculars turned
to me and just silently mouthed the word “shoot”. I whispered “what about the sitatunga?” He replied “what sitatunga? You will never see something like this again”. I
raised the rifle and watched as the beast made its way closer and closer. Andrew ranged him at 150 yards and closing, as he approached the grass line in front of us, I told
Andrew that I had to shoot or would lose him in the grass. I concentrated on holding the cross hairs on his shoulder while tightening my squeeze with my right hand. The
explosion surprised me and the beast immediately disappeared from where he was standing. I knew the shot was good and asked Andrew to confirm, he just replied that he
didn’t know, it had disappeared instantly with my shot. Andrew decided to climb out of the tree and I would remain and give him directions to the last place we had seen
it. As I watched Andrew walk through the long grass I reflected on a conversation that we had on the way into camp. Andrew had commented that he knew of no other activity
than hunting that allowed you to experience such a wide array of emotion. The anticipation, the frustration, the promise, the doubt, the exhilaration, the lowest of the
lows sometimes followed by the highest of the highs. As Andrew reached the grass line, I gave him hand directions to the last place I saw the beast. I was sure the second
I stopped him, I would be greeted with a smile and a thumbs up beckoning me from the fig tree. As the minutes passed, my stomach began to tighten as Andrew wandered back
and forth in widening circles from the place I knew my prey should be lying dead. I told myself that there was no way I missed, perhaps Andrew was having fun walking around
its corpse while he knew I was squirming. After a couple of minutes he called me down and told me to come help look. I reached the grass line knowing that it was lying
there dead just to find that Andrew was not playing, it wasn’t there. I walked the edge of the grass and then up into the grass following every place that looked like a
game trail looking for blood and found nothing. My heart sank and my stomach turned, how could I miss such an easy shot? Seriously, was this a sign of things to come? As
the doubt spread, the sun set, diminishing the chances that I had done my part. As darkness closed in on us, we met back at the original spot where he had been and all I
could say was “I don’t know”. Andrew looked around and made the statement that maybe it was further than we thought, he walked about 50 yards further into the floodplain
and almost disappeared into a depression. He yelled “here” and waived his arms, the quicksand of disappointment was immediately gone replaced by clouds of relief and
elation. I walked over to the depression and was unprepared for what I saw, clearly this beast was from the family Suidae, but not from this era, more likely from the
Pliocene Epoch. Something I had not planned on, by definition a target of opportunity, but one of my fondest memories of my trip to the Kafue.



Day 2

Little action today, saw my first Roan bull (literally, ever). It was a rather magical moment, we were working inside the tree line along a dambo (sp?), or dambeaux for you
coon asses. Michael the lead tracker spotted a lone bull walking the opposite tree line, we exited the cruiser and worked our way down tree to tree to the opening to get a
look. We made it to the edge, the bull was 300-400 yards away on the opposite edge. I didn’t realize how big these animals were, it was still early morning and rather
hazy. The bull made us immediately and began moving away up into the trees. Andrew explained to me how leery these animals were and a large percentage of the stalks would
end in getting busted. We (Andrew) decided that to chase this bull would be futile, so we moved on.

Day 3

Started by driving towards the South further into the concession, saw numerous Sable and groups of Roan. The sable seemed relaxed, the roan seemed to always be running
away. Tried a couple of times to follow but didn’t seem to be able to get the wind right and all we got to see was the South ends of Northbound roan. About mid-day we ran
into some of Andrews game scouts, asked them if they had seen any Sable or Roan and received a quick “no”. They informed us that they had seen some Hartebeest, Andrew asked
where and they pointed to a small rise North of us (I think). Andrew asked “close”? “Yes Bwana, there”. Andrew asked how far, “a kilometer”? “No Bwana, just there”
pointing. I grabbed the 300 and we were off. We didn’t make it 400 yards and you could see a herd of Lichtensteins Hartebeest milling about another 400 yards or so away in
the trees.



We were almost completely exposed, as the only trees were small scrub randomly scattered. We got on our knees and began crawling towards the herd. For those of you that
have been to the Kafue, it is scorched earth with small clumps of dried earth and grass that is hell on the bare knees. We closed 75-100 yards and settled at the base of a
small tree to try to get a look. There were 19 animals in the herd, all bulls. There were 3 bulls to the far right that appeared to be the largest bodied animals. I was
surprised2 at the large discrepancy in body size between the animals, being that they were all bulls I could only assume this is a product of age difference? We sat on our
butts and scooted another 25-50 yards slowly, stopping for brief periods every time the animals seemed to stop and look our way. We were getting closer, and working at a
snails pace from tree to tree trying to remain concealed. The bulls began laying down except for 2 of the 3 bulls on the far right that appeared to have us made. The
largest of the three was laying down with his head up while the other 2 stood directly facing us, staring us down. Andrew and I sat frozen for what seemed an eternity until
1 of the 2 laid down, followed by the other about 10-15 minutes later, this was our chance. We continued scooting tree to tree until we reached a tree approximately 165
yards from the sleeping bulls. We slowly rose behind the small tree, Andrew peered from around the left while I stuck my rifle through a fork on the right side (BTW,
this “tree” was possibly 2” in diam
eter and 6’ tall). The last bull to lay down was immediately up staring at us again, then the 1 next to him. Another bull in the middle
of the herd had risen and caught Andrews eye, “Brad, how about the 1 in the middle, he is tall”. I responded, “You call it Andrew” I can shoot either one”. “No, No, the
big one on the far right just got up, take him, take him now”. My rifle swung to the right, the Bull was quartered towards us, my crosshairs settled on the front of his
shoulder and the recoil of the rifle rocked the tree. The bull bucked and lunged forward running in a blind panic, not seeming to realize that his right leg not working was
forcing him into a large arc. The bull probably ran a hundred yards in a large circle, finally collapsing just yards from where he started, while his partners scurried off
to the West. The stalk took us close to 2 hours, and ended with taking what turned out to be a terrific trophy.



Day 3

5 am we were up and 5: 30 we were out of camp, we started by stopping by one of the scouts camps, there was still on scout in camp and Andrew asked him if he had seen any
buffalo. He answered yes, right at daylight there was 2 buffalo about 300 yards out of their camp. We quickly found their tracks and the trackers began working their
magic. The tracking was laborious as it was hard ground and the buffalo did not appear to be going anywhere, rather just milling around randomly. We spent over an hour
working on this slowly moving towards the river, and then they seemed to begin milling back towards the inside of the property. Once we crossed the main road again they
seemed to gain some direction and the tracking picked up to a trot. We tracked the bulls until close to lunchtime and finally found them laying in a thicket. We could see
one of the bulls looking at us and decided to try to sneak around to the backside of the anthill the thicket was formed around. We scooted on our butts, guns in our laps
until the anthill blocked the place we thought the bulls were. We stood up and slowly made our way around the anthill. Right about the time we thought we would be able to
see the bulls, Michael (the lead tracker), pointed behind us and said “there”. The two bulls had snuck out the back and were running across the Savanna 300+ yards away.
Immediately Andrew took off running with me behind him. The bulls stopped in some trees and we made it to about 200 yards from them before they were off again, with us in
hot pursuit. They stopped again in some trees and we made it to about 150 yards before the bulls turned to face us. Expecting them to take off again, you can imagine our
surprise when they began trotting directly towards us. They made it to about 60 yards before they stopped, noses in the air looking rather perturbed that we were pushing
them.



Then just as we were wondering how this was going to end, with a snort they turned and ran. That was an unforgettable experience.




Day 4

Went to an area with a spring, found some fresh buffalo spoor and turned out on the tracks. It looked like 3 or 4 bulls and we tracked them for a couple of hours. At one
point, the guys were circling trying to make out where the tracks were going and I spotted the buffalo 400-500 yards away milling around in the trees. We snuck in and
discovered it was an entire herd of probably 150 animals, divided up into 4 or 5 groups. We glassed everything and discovered our 4 dugga boys packed in under a tree on the
far side of the herd sleeping. Back onto my still recovering knees and made our way carefully from tree to ant hill to thicket trying to get close enough to judge. After
30-45 minutes Andrew and I literally found ourselves peering over an anthill 15-20 yards from the resting bulls. The best (most mature) bull was broomed off hard on his
left side, had he been the same on his right I probably would have taken him, but he had his full hook on the right and you could tell he was only 32”-33” wide. We decided
to pass to try to look through the rest of the herd and backed out without disturbing the sleeping bulls. What a terrific experience!!

We made our way around all of the groups of buffalo, lots of cows, calves and young bulls. We did see one bull that interested us and spent quite a bit of time working
around trying to get another look at him after he disappeared into the herd, but it just wasn’t meant to be. We finally decided that we were going to have to expose
ourselves to try to get a look at this bull, figuring that was our only chance. Well, they did and were off in a cloud of dust and the thunder of hooves. Andrew and I ran
after them for probably ½ mile of more getting several more looks as they slowed to try to figure out what was running after them. I do not know any way to describe what it
was like crawling around inside a herd of 150 or so buffalo for a couple of hours, carefully picking out, examining and judging every bull in the entire herd. I literally
could have shot 20 or more bulls with my open sight rifle if I was inclined. A more classic buffalo hunt, I have never experienced.


Day 5

The day started early (as usual), we were 30-40 minutes out of camp before you could really even start to see. Just as we were starting to have enough daylight came the
excitement of a tracker tapping on the roof of the cruiser. We immediately looked to the right and saw 4 buffalo bulls standing 100 yards off the road. As soon as the
cruiser stopped, the bulls were off, running out of sight. With a quickness we had the guns, jackets off, backpack loaded with water and were on the tracks, following them
at a steady pace. The trackers were amazing, trotting along the tracks with us close behind, slowing only occasionally to work out what happened on some of the hard
ground. After a couple of hours of tracking we followed the tracks up to one of the island thickets in the tall grass, just as we entered the edge of the thicket it
exploded and everyone scattered like a covey of flushed quail, including 4 buffalo bulls. All I saw were trackers jumping out of the way and black masses running by
immediately disappearing into the long grass. The rifles came back down and immediately Andrew was running after the direction of the bulls with me right behind him. The 4
bulls stopped 50 yards or so into the long grass and Andrew and I were there probably 30 yards away just as they turned to face us. We looked carefully through the
binoculars and saw that the one on the far left had big bosses and deep drops, he wasn’t very wide, but definitely a trophy bull. Andrew said “take the one on the left”.
My problem was that I could only see the top of his back and head in the grass and would have had to guess where his vitals were. I hesitated and told Andrew that I
couldn’t see him, I looked at the bull on the far right and he was standing on a small rise quartered to us with his nose in the air staring at us. Just the shape of this
bull in that position, to me, was the classic buffalo pose. He clearly had hard bosses and was probably the widest of the 4 bulls. Meanwhile, the one on the far left had
stepped up in front of the 3rd bull and I could see him clearly. However, he was standing broadside and had the 3rd bull directly behind him. I told Andrew “I am going to
take the one on the right”. I set the bead on the soft spot between his right shoulder and his brisket and squeezed the trigger. This was followed by an alarmingly
soft “pop”, the three bulls on the left thundered off and my bull put his head down and staggered off into the long grass to the right. We ran up to the rise he had been
standing on and immediately saw the three other bulls standing about 30 yards away staring into some trees 15 yards or so to our right. Andrew stated that one was missing,
and I pointed, “there”. The sick bull was standing under a tree 15 yards away with his head down. Andrew said “hit him again”, I sent one flying into his left shoulder,
the bull turned away from us “again”, I sent one up his backside. He turned back to the left and got hit again behind his shoulder. He collapsed and we ran up behind him
as he lifted his head I sent the last one raking up the entire length of his rib cage. I threw open the lever and quickly dropped 4 more shells into the box, closing one
into the pipe. We stood just feet behind him watching for any movement or breathing, there was none, the bull was dead and I was absolutely sold on the 1895 in .405,
perhaps I will change my handle.



Day 6

Just approaching half way through the hunt, I am beginning to see what the challenges are. One of my primary species was Sitatunga, and in order to hunt this species on
Royal Kafue you have to stay by the river. You need to be next to the river about an hour before daylight until a couple of hours after (5am-8am) and then a couple of hours
before dark until an hour or so after (4pm-7pm). Then, Royal Kafue is not mapped with roads so movement is slow, as you are not usually on a road. I thought this was good
for the hunting (you may be in the cruiser, but you are moving very slowly), also, you weren’t driving the same routes day after day, so you were truly able to hunt the
whole place (if you had the time). The flip side of that is that it was more challenging on time management. You had to leave early to try to be close to the area you
wanted to hunt in prime hunting times. Also, you might not be able to get back to the river if you were out on foot after something (which you typically were, every day).
And, if you shot something, daylight was burnt, You were typically already spent and nowhere near the truck, pictures & skinning took place while the truck was being
fetched, then when it finally arrived there was getting it loaded and tied down, etc.. Then, there was roan, imagine an animal that you see, typically from a long distance
(400 yards would be close, 800+ is more typical), the second you get out of the cruiser, you begin crawling, you get to 200-300, they see you and run 500. So, you track,
follow to 200-300, they see you and run 500, or maybe 20km? You don’t know but you never see them again, and you do this all day. The two hunts are tough together, and
something is going to have to get sacrificed.

So, Andrew wanted to hunt roan in a new area deep into Royal Kafue, we left early to try to get there while it was still cool and before the winds picked up. Hunting was
fairly slow until around 9am when we spotted a large herd of Roan grazing up into the trees on the opposite side of a Dambo around 600-700 yards away. We grabbed the rifle,
sticks and pack and began walking towards them, by the time we made it to the tree line on our side of the Dambo, the Roan had made it all the way up into the trees at the
top of the rise on the opposite side. We sat patiently, as we had no way to cross the open dambo without the Roan making us, after 15 minutes or so, the Roan all fed over
the rise and disappeared, allowing us to run across the opening and up into the trees on the opposite side. We made our was to the top and came up on the crest behind a
thicket. The Roan had fed down into a small opening with a grove of trees on the opposite side about 400 yards away. We were able to sit and watch them as they fed and a
couple of bulls appeared to be resting while standing in the shade of a couple of trees. There was definitely a good bull, the cows and bulls look almost identical, except
for a mature bulls body is noticeably larger. Unfortunately, we were once again in the position of having an opening between us that we couldn’t cross in front of them.
After a little time, the roan decided to trot off into the trees away from us, and we were able to follow. We followed for a kilometer or so before we got another look at
them off in the distance, but they had already made us in the trees and were running again. Not being discouraged, we continued, the next time we saw them was probably
another kilometer and they were walking along the same tree line we were in on the side of a dambo. The Roan made us again and took off across the open Dambo towards the
river. We crawled across the opening to a patch of scrub in the middle and tried to get closer to them. Two cows and a younger bull dropped a few hundred yards back to
keep an eye on us., which kept us from even getting close to the big bull. Finally, after pushing them a few times (which pushed the herd), they re-joined up into the
trees. The last time we saw the Roan that afternoon was maybe an hour later and we got to within shooting distance and actually set up on the sticks as they looked prepared
to file past us one by one. However, the bull never appeared and they made us and made a hasty retreat. We continued following until we came to the road (a few
kilometers), we walked the road for 30-45 minutes until we found where they had crossed, now they were walking a game trail straight to the river, so we made good time.
About 500 yards from the river, the tracks lost all direction and seemed to dissipate right in front of us. We worked it for a little bit as they had obviously not
continued on to the river, but finally gave up and made our way back towards the road, and sent Michael back to find the truck, as it was getting late. We figured there was
one more set of water holes they may have gone to and made our way that direction. The truck met us on the road about ¾ to where we were going and we continued on. We
approached the area and immediately saw the Roan coming up out of the water holes, moving away from us. Out of the truck again, and realizing it was a short amount of time
to dark and we would never catch them, we ran back the way we came to try to cut them off. It worked perfectly, we got in front of them and set up, just as they came filing
by at 150 yds. Unfortunately, the bull walked parallel to them back in the trees, about 200 yards beyond them. We watched them trot away, out of distance behind a thicket
before literally running 300 yards or so, into the thicket to try to get a look at them on the other side. By the time we made it through the thicket, it was too dark,
after following the group most of the day, we had run out of time. We spent the next 30 minutes walking back to the truck talking about how awesome it was to work a group
of roan all day, and what tomorrow would bring.

Day 7

*Note: After some thought and recollection, Day 7 actually started with the intent of going back and trying to find the Roan we had to abandon at dark the previous night (6)

Once again we were out in the cruiser before daylight, driving deep into Andrew’s place looking for Roan and Sable. The day started slowly, not much was moving and we
covered quite a bit of country. We were going to check 2 water holes to see what kind of spoor we could find, we discovered that only one of the pans was still holding
water and didn’t find any fresh tracks that sparked our interest. We began heading back towards one of the Dambo’s and had been driving maybe 45 minutes when the trackers
spotted a lone roan bull. Unfortunately, the only thing we got to see through the binoculars was his ass running away through the trees 400-500 yards in front of us. We
exited the cruiser and grabbed the rifle to at least try to see if he would slow down and give us a look, or maybe follow some tracks. We trotted a few hundred yards to our
left, we got a brief glimpse of him again standing looking at us about 400 yards off, then he was running again. We went a few hundred more yards and saw him running some
more, it appeared we were wasting our time. Then out of nowhere, an absolute pig of a reedbuck jumped up in front of us and bounded off about 125 yards. Andrew threw up
the sticks in front of me and said “shoot the reedbuck!”. So I did, and that’s all I have to say about that.





Day 7 Cont’d

Now I know why I ran out of things to type on Day 7, the Reedbuck was shot at lunchtime and there was still work to be done. We hung the Reedbuck and I caped him out while
Andrew shook lunch out of the cold box. After getting the cape off, I put the head on the back of the cruiser and took the cape off of the skull so we could put it in the
cold box and carry on hunting the rest of the day. We spent the rest of the day looking for our Roan and could not find them. We slowly made our way back towards camp and
wouldn’t you know, about an hour before dark, we found them. They were grazing up into some trees on the opposite side of a dambo, so we exited the truck and began making
our way towards them. We made it to the tree line on our side, and began glassing them to try and find the bull. We looked to no avail, as he wasn’t there, soon, they
busted us moving around trying to get a different angle to see the bull, and they were off. Andrew and I agreed, it was futile to follow, as we only had about 20 minutes of
daylight left. We began making our way back towards the truck, and made it about ½ way before Andrew froze and raised his glasses. I looked around him and we could see a
smaller group of Roan about 500 yards away. We got down on our knees, and begin crawling, trying to close the distance. We got to about 300 yards and slowly stood next to
a small group of trees so we could glass the Roan. We quickly determined that the bull from yesterday was in the smaller group, and began watching them. The Roan began
walking towards or right and I got the rifle up on the sticks, with my back against a horizontal limb conveniently behind me, and settled in to make a long shot. I was
super steady as the bull walked out from behind some trees to my left following the group. After some miscommunication with Andrew, I squeezed the trigger, and the bulls
back legs dropped out from under him. I slammed in another round and fired again and the bull fell out of sight. After nearly 2 days of following and looking at and for
this Roan, he was dead. Yet another terrific experience!!



Day 8

After shooting the Roan, Andrew had decided that we needed to go to the far South end of the concession to look for Sable, and in order to be there in prime hunting times,
we needed to camp. So we spent the evening together putting together a fly camp and were out early in the morning to try to get some hunting in. First we dropped the camp
off with instructions for Ronald how to set up the camp as we were not expecting to be back until late. With that, we were off, making our way further South. About an hour
later we ran into 2 of Andrews game scouts and asked them if they had seen any Sable? “Yes Bwana, there” as they pointed. We grabbed the guns and sticks and hadn’t walked
20 minutes before Chris froze and pointed “black sable”. We looked through our glasses and could make out a small group of sable and one very black bull. We could only see
bits and pieces of him, so we began moving from tree to tree trying to get a look. Finally we got a look at the bottom 8”-10” of his horns and saw what looked like 2 – 6”
fence posts sticking out of the top of his head. Knowing that we wanted a better look, we continued maneuvering as the Sable calmly moved away from us at basically the same
pace we were moving towards them. Finally, we got a better look at his horns and the first thing you notice is that they don’t taper as you go up the horns, rather they
just carry the mass the entire way. Andrew turned to me and said “are you ready? We are going to kill this bull.”. I did not have clear shot, so we made our way to the
next tree. Now, before I go any further, I have to admit that I was unprepared for what was about to happen. I have shot a sable before with my 7mm-08 and it was a very
uneventful ordeal, bam, buck, lunge forward, fall over dead. I thought of Sable as thin skinned, fairly light game. So, I put the cross hairs on his right shoulder,
squeezed the trigger and the bull bucked and took off like a rocket. I immediately had that sick feeling in my stomach, that was not the way I thought this was going to
go. We immediately began following the bull, we followed him (unseen) for probably 300 yards through the trees and then Chris stopped, pointing to our right, “sable”. We
looked and only saw a couple of young bulls, Andrew grabbed my shoulder and pointed to our left, “there, laying down”. The bull was about 150 yards away, and literally all
you could see was these 2 fence posts sticking up out of the ground. We quickly made our way towards the bull and right about the time I could see his head, he jumped up
and took off like a rocket. My stomach was doing backflips, we ran after the bull and in about 300 yards he stopped next to an anthill. I quickly grabbed a tree and sent
another bullet the length of his rib cage as he quartered away from us. The bull sucked up the shot and took off again to our left, disappearing behind the ant hill. We
ran to the far side of the ant hill, pausing when we got to it to slowly walk around it, hoping the bull was there. As we made our way to the back side Andrew
froze, “there, on top”. The bull was lying on top of the ant hill 75 yards away, defiantly he stood and turned broad side, I threw up my rifle and put one in his shoulder,
he didn’t even flinch. I chambered another round and hit him lower in the shoulder, he collapsed. As we approached the dead bull, I was shocked at the size of his horns,
they are something that you truly have to put your hands on to appreciate. We hung the bull after pictures and I began caping him, I was absolutely shocked to find the skin
on his back and shoulders was literally as thick as the skin on the buffalo I had skinned just days before, literally ½”-3/4” thick. I would be interested to know if anyone
else has experienced this with sable?



And finally...The Puku, to finish only 1 short of the Kafue slam

Now that's a bushpig!

blodly hell, that thing looks more like a red river hog than a bush pig- and Brad ALMOST smiled!

Holy crap! Congrats man!

That's one heck of a way to start what should be a great report. Wow, that pig is a PIG! That's the most impressive bushpig I've ever seen. Nice start to your safari.

Damn that's a pig
Congratulation
I'm simply jealous
Damn again

That a BIG pig!
Well done

quote:

Originally posted by jdollar:
blodly hell, that thing looks more like a red river hog than a bush pig- and Brad ALMOST smiled!

I think he was just spitting out a mosquito.....nice pig Brad!

Brett

Here you go Jerry Brad in full beam.

Well done all,

Truly without a doubt one of the best Pigs I have ever seen and I’ve seen a bunch,

True monster,

JK

Damn! that's a pig! imagine the sausages!!!

Well done, and the story isn't too bad either. Congratulations to you both!

Best regards, D. Nelson

Holy friggin' bushpig!

Nice start to what is sure to be an outstanding report.

You sure write better than you smile!

Brad,

Bushpig is one of my favorites because it alluded me for so long. Big congrats on a superb trophy.

Mark

That was a heck of a start! Fantastic pig.

What a BEAST!!!

EXCELLENT!!!
This report is starting to set up FINE...defintely will keep us at the edge of our seats ...WOW!!!

Great pic of a damned fine hog. Congrats

That is an awesome looking pig!

quote:

Originally posted by Wendell Reich:
That is an awesome looking pig!

Yeah, but apparently he does not smile much?

Congrats!!! That pig is awesome!!!

Another eyes wide moment. What a brute.

Jeezem, what a bad ass pig. congrats

quote:

Originally posted by fairgame:
Here you go Jerry Brad in full beam.

yep, other than when he makes fun of Obummer, that's the most i have EVER seen him smile.

Full mount please...no excuses

Congrats!

Grafton,
Andrew suggested the same, sleeping with a junk yard chain around his neck anchored to the floor next to the front door.

A pic of his toofs

Come on... with that hairdo it has to be a high fence, pen raised, pet!

What a gorgeous pig! Can't believe I just used those words in he same sentence. Like Grafton said, full body mount please!!!

Hell of a pig there Brad. Can't wait to read the next installments.

George

Definitely full body mount Brad.

Did you let the guy that was riding him have his saddle back?
He's definitely big enough to ride.

That is one huge hog! I can't wait to read the rest of your adventure and see the photos of other animals taken. With trophies like this, you will be keeping brother Ben in business for quite some time.

Nice Report Brad...keep it coming

very nice bushpig, great colouring.

Yep, keep it coming Brad

Nice!

another pic of the Hartebeest

Great safari. Good pics. Good read. Waiting for more.

Good shit guys. That is an awesome buff and pig