I decided to do a bit more complete a trip report than is usually posted. I’m a newbie in Africa having only been to RSA once and never to a tent camp. There were lots of new and exciting things for me, and some of the information may be useful for a newbie going through the same thing.


OK Folks … for the “Old Hats†around the short version first …

7 days in the North Mehange. Tough hunting because the rains were late and the grass was very tall. Camp was great. PH was super. Tracker was amazing. Took a nice Hartebeast on the morning of day 2. Was 5 seconds too slow on a nice mature 38†Buf on day 3. Took an ugly beautiful old daggaboy on the morning of day 7 with a no-sticks jump shot from a large ant hill.. He ain’t big … but the stalk was unbelieveable, and he had Lion track on his back, face, and neck as well as two musket balls under the skin of his tummy … and he is my first!

Really enjoyed the hunt.


Long version:

Was met at the Dar airport at 11 pm. Took more time than one might think to get the guns out of hock due to a paperwork complication.

If there is any sort of complication with the paperwork make, VERY certain that it is all straight before you leave the airport!!!! This bit me at the end of the trip.

Went to the Seaclifts for the night … a wonderful hotel! Don’t miss the free breakfast.

Met Steve (Shakiri) Robinson for breakfast. Fine fella. He warned that the grass was still green and the hunting would be “up close and very personal.†(Boy was he right!) Enjoyed the visit and very much appreciated his time.

Arrived at the North Mahenge camp at about 8 pm after an 11 hours drive across two lane blacktop, oiled, and dirt roads. Even had to take the Kilambaro Ferry. Fascinating trip that was well worth the time if you have it to spare.

Was met with a glass of wine and the tent guy spirited my stuff to the tent. Dinner was delightful. Paul Horsly, the PH, was obviously a quiet guy but rather deftly gathered a lot of information about my experience. You could almost see him form a plan. Found out that I was the first hunter in this camp this year. We adjourned to catch a nap and planned to start just a little late the morning of day 1 with a trip to the range. The PH and the Tent Guy escorted me to the tent and showed me around. Spacious, good netting, great head facilities that seal separately from the rest of the tent. Must have been anything but cheap!








Day 1

We went to the range after a very nice breakfast. The CZ .416 Rigby showed it held its zero. Somehow the M70 SS Classic .375 H&H had shifted its zero 6†to the right during the trip. After a little fiddling it passed with two rounds in the bull at 12 o’clock about an inch apart.

Off we went into the field with two trackers, a Game Scout from the Tanzanian government, a second driver, and a spare guy who went along. He had built the camp and had a lot of experience as a PH in Zim.

We drove a number of hunting roads looking for track across the roads and sign near the roads. We determined that the place was still very green and the grass was WAY tall. They had just started to be able to burn. Shakiri was right … this hunt could get very personal if luck was not with us.

After an hour of so, we did run across track and got out of the vehicle and saddled up. Felt good to load the rifle and get under way. We walked about an hour when we spotted a group at 200 yards or so. My first sight of Buf in the field was an Ox Pecker on the back of a Buf through the trees.

The tracker took up round and round getting close to the little herd of about 25 animals. The PH had had some conversation with me about what I wanted, but I was left feeling a little uneasy because I did not feel I expressed myself well. The herd had two young bulls and one old fella that was just too small. We broke off the stalk and hiked back to the truck. After this moderate walk I was soaked from the waist up. I had been doing some physical prep and back home I could do 4 km carrying a rifle without breaking a sweat. Not a good sign.

We went back for lunch and a nap and then back to the hunting about 4 pm. The rest of the afternoon we saw no additional track.

Sundowner is very well recieved as is the company by the fire. Dinner is very nice. The Chef deserves the title, but had not been given the information sheet that I filled out. Have had so much rubber chicken on business trips over the years that the last thing I want to see is yet someone else’s interpretation of a cheap meal. This guy’s chicken is pretty good but …

Day 2

Next morning we go out again, but this time we’re on the road by 6:30 am after a nice breakfast. We do the obligatory driving and check some wet areas and water holes for track. On the way back at mid morning, we spy Hartebeast spoor on the road (looks a lot like deer pellets but a bit bigger), and see Hartebeast, Warthog, Wildebeast, and Waterbuck. At the last wet area we check, we see two Hartebeast bulls on the other side of the grass about 200 yards away. We stop the truck and move out after a quick load of the .375. I forget to grab extra shells. On the way, the PH motions for one of the trackers to grab the .416 just in case we see Buf.

We move a couple of hundred yards with the guidance of the tracker to intercept the Hartebeast. The bigger bull isn’t really concerned about us, and the sticks go up with him at 50 to 60 yards. He’s facing us with a slight quarter. I pull the trigger with the crosshairs on his chest to the near side of the quartering view. Bang … Hartebeast goes down … and then gets back up and hauls buggy.

Tracker guides us to where he was standing and there is good blood trail. We track him another 150 yards or so and find him lying down facing away in the medium grass about 20 yards away. I am not sure how this guy is build, so when motioned to shoot him again I do … but am not sure what I am shooting at. He doesn’t move so I slam him again. This time he’s up and off and the .375 is out of shells so I swap it to the other tracker for the loaded .416. We move forward some and find the Hartebeast down but struggling so I nail him again and this time it’s over for sure. Very pretty fella … and very tough. The first bullet has entered the chest just a little high, transected the thorax and exited just in front of the left rear leg. The second round entered the left buttocks went through the ham and re-entered the chest in front of the leg. It is later found as a perfect mushroom against the front wall of the chest. Third shot was probably a miss. The .416 just flattened him.



We load the beast and head back to camp for lunch and a nap and are back in the field by 3:30 pm. W e look hard, often pushing 6-10 foot tall grass with the front bumper of the truck. We see a few animals we’re not looking for, but no Buffalo sign that is fresh.

Day 2 evening we’re sitting at dinner when quite a hubbub occurs. I catch the words Simba! Simba! And the PH takes a fast hike from the table. He comes back a bit later and tells us that the security guy sitting in the tree stand on the other side of my tent reported two Lions in camp and had yelled for him to bring a rifle. That night Ms. Rigby goes to bed with me … with a loaded magazine. Hadn’t quite expected to be that familiar with a foreigner in Africa ;>

During the night I am awakened by a major squalling that sounds like its anywhere from 150 to 250 yards away. A Buf is fighting off a Lion and has obviously sustained some damage. Takes a while to get to sleep.

Day 3

In the morning we see pretty much the same thing until after lunch when we see two lionesses moving from the tall grass into the thickets around a stream and disappear. A bit later we seem some fresh Buf sign and the walk is on with the sobering knowledge that we are not the only folks out on a Buf hunt.

The wind is shifting about a bit so we go slow and change directions often. Much of the trip is through the tall grass. You get a hold of the adrenaline and go anyway.

We’ve been going an hour and a half or so. Again, I’m soaked. We see the herd, move to a place we can approach and belly crawl to an ant hill behind a tree. Half of us are in the trail behind the hill. Paul is behind a big tree on the hill and I move up behind him. The Buf looks great to me. Mature … may 37-38â€. Paul is unsure, and finally whispers … “38 OK?†“Absolutely†I whisper back. The sticks go up, but the Buf is looking right at us by that time. I start to move the rifle and he disengages and the herd starts to move. We were within 5 seconds of a shot. My lack of clarity with the PH has probably cost us a shot.

We move to reengage the herd who has formed up and moved rapidly to where we had been earlier. They have been harried by Lions; run into our scent; and they are getting aggravated. The herd starts a really rapid movement to our left after coming toward us and stopping. About 35 animals crash forward … pretty much mashing anything in the way. Happily that does not include us.

The rest of the day is less interesting, but the sundowner is really welcome! Dinner is again wonderful and it becomes obvious that the Chef specializes in soups. Again not one of my traditional favorites but his fella takes them to a new place!

During the night we have Hyena virtually in camp. One must be no more than 50 yards from the front door screaming and squalling. I hate those damn ugly things. I eventually get to sleep and actually get a good rest.

Day 4

We go to the place that we saw the herd and pick up new track. We follow it an hour or so … right to the edge of the concession … and into a Selous game reserve area. ;>(

Rest of the day is more looking, more pushing grass. Now it’s punctuated by the car overheating because the radiator has been subjected to so much grass. We look hard and see game but no fresh Buf sign. I kinda make the decision that we’re here for Buf and the plains game gets a bye.

We see miles and miles of miles and miles.

Dinner is again fine. The Lions are back but this time near the camp rather than in it. I sleep OK, but Ms. Rigby is not the best bed partner.


Day 5

More of the same. Lunch in the field. No new Buf sign. The trackers continue to throw matches into the grass as we go out of areas. The fellas who own the next concession have been doing the same thing. Lots of smoke in the air. Camp is quiet tonight. Hyena are much further away. I sleep well.

Day 6

More of same in the morning. I’m beginning to wonder. One definition of insanity is doing the same thing time and again, while expecting a different result every time. Then I remember that the Buf throw a new dimension into the mix, so that doesn’t apply so well.

In the afternoon we move behind the camp on foot. We’re out about 2 1/2 hours. Lots of sign; some even fresh … but it’s so damn thick we’re at risk of kicking them out or finding that the Lions are hunting us. My forearms are heavily scratched up by the thorns, they’re covered with blood and DEET and I’m beginning to feel a little like walking bait.

Dinner is nice. We have a discussion about tips so that the end of the last day will not be difficult. The Hyena are back and sleeping is difficult as a result of them and the realization that we’ve worked hard but I may go home with cherished memories but no Buf.

Day 7

We get a little earlier start. It’s the last day. I woke up with the thought that it’ll be over by 10 am. As we’re hauling down the road toward the area that we’ve hunted the most heavily we make it around a corner in time to see the tail end of a herd of Buf moving down toward the place we saw the last herd on day 3. Paul has the car stopped and off in a heartbeat! We’re out, saddled up, chambers loaded, and walking within a minute or two of seeing the Buf.

We maneuver around and see what appears to be the center of the herd … and it’s a huge one. Wind is blithering around again. We move in and back out trying to accommodate for the wind as the herd moves. Almost two hours of this and we finally get toward to back of the herd in the tall grass. We can hear Buf about 270 degrees from our back left to the right front. Some are WAY too close. As I am heading into a section of extra tall grass I look back and the other PH behind me is standing still in the path looking to his left and his eyes are large. There is grunting and noise in the direction of his look which finally subsides and he looks much relieved. (Seems 4 young bulls had come to take a look. They were swinging their heads side to side and being generally intimidating. They sounded as if they were 8 to 15 yards away.)

The tracker motions for us to go make a hard left and we start to move again. We approach the back of a big ant hill (maybe 30 feet in diameter and 10 feet tall), and the PH motions for me to follow him up. I can see a BUNCH of Buf and they are CLOSE … some as close as 25 yards. We get to the top of the hill and Paul says that one … no time for sticks … he’s starting to turn away. I get the rifle mounted and find the Buf under the reticle of the 1.5-5x Leupold set at 1.5. I am not going to fritter away the only shot I may get. He’s beginning to go back behind a tree so I drop the hammer on the fella and he’s just 20 yards away. All hell breaks loose at the shot. There are animals everywhere moving very smartly to our right toward the main herd. It is impossible to discern the Buf I just shot with the .416, but I had the distinct impression I hit him too far back.

The thicket is roiling with pissed off, and worried buffalo. They are forming up and come ripping back towards us en mass. They are hundreds of them and they are flattening the thicket in front of them as they pass. The herd sweeps to our left in front of us to avoid the ant hill (and us) and they charge to the left back toward the truck.

It’s so quiet you can hear a pin drop. Paul says “I think you hit him.†We wait 10 to 15 minutes or so and Paul takes the chief tracker and goes down the hill. Within 20 minutes they’ve looked to the right side for blood trail and have started to move back toward us. A few minutes later the second tracker comes up the hill with a bloody leaf and motions us to follow. We meet with Paul and Anton (the chief tracker) and start to move slowly up the blood trail. There is a hurt and undoubtedly pissed off Buff out there who is going to be very unpredictable and the thicket is not making it easy to see very far forward. We’re moving very, very quietly. The blood trail is getting heavier. Where ever he tarries a bit there is good blood on the ground.

The tracker motions toward his left and Paul and I move out in front of him to see the Buf standing there. I hit him behind the shoulder again and as I rack the bolt, hear a sound I am not used to and am so startled I short stroke the bolt. The Buf charges to the right and away from us … and I clear the jam and realize the noise was Paul’s 458 Lott. (Note to self, in future practice with someone else shooting so I don’t get startled by that again!)

We locate the animal and he is lying down facing away from us. I move up and slam him again. He stuggles up and goes another 10 yards before he falls and thrashes around. I move around so that I can see his back and shoot him again.

It’s now over. The Buf is dying. Everyone in the party is accounted for and OK. I’ve fired four rounds from the Rigby and Paul has fired his Magnaported Lott once. My ears are not ringing, and I cannot remember the rifle recoiling at all.

We move up when we’re sure he’s gone. He is a beautiful old bastard. Full boss, very worn horn, Lion scars on both sides of his neck, and on his back, face and upper chest. This fella may be a bit small, but like Napoleon he lived to the fullest and had many, many stories to tell.




We’d later find two round cast bullets encysted under the skin of his belly where poachers had tried to kill him. We’d find that my first shot was to the back across the gut. Paul’s only shot had hit a little further forward than my first shot but came out about the same place. My second shot was just about perfect. Just behind the right leg but maybe just a little high. My third shot (first on the ground) had gone up the rump, shattered the right leg bone and tracked up into the chest where it was found in the lungs. Even so … he was so charged with adrenalin that he was still able to move. My last shot had actually hit the right side of the boss and blown through the head. Did some damage to the horn but nothing I can’t explain.

This was some tough critter who had a huge will to live. Some guys would not be, but I will be very proud of the mount. This one was a real daggaboy.

Took a while (5 1/2 hours) to get the truck down close to us and enough folks to cart the pieces out. In the mean time the tracker told us there was a Lion close. I could just hear him once in a while. It ain’t over until the trophies are in the salt!

Things I’ve learned

I knew I was green, but I just didn’t know how green. Tanzania (and I’m sure all tent camps) is very different from RSA. I begin to understand why DG hunting in such an environment costs more than plains game hunting in a more controlled environment. ‘Tis a sadness because I am not wealthy and it will be tough for me to get back.

I’d think twice about taking the wife to an area with a lot of Lion. When the things that go bump in the night are Lion it really adds excitement to the mix.

Make sure your PH knows that you’ll take a mature 38†(or whatever size you’ve decided) Buf and/or a daggaboy if that’s what you want. Have no confusions that delay decisions at the critical time.

Be as physically fit as you can get. For me, 8 km a day was not enough. I didn’t hold back the party too much, but I’m sure the team was taking my condition into account.

A larger caliber makes bigger holes and adds margin for less than perfect shots. Sometimes things happen very fast and a perfect shot is not possible. Add snap shooting to your practice regimen. My years of IPSC experience was indeed helpful.

Products with 30-40% DEET are WONDERFUL for the Tetse flies. Them buggers are a pain and the DEET really works.

And make sure that you have an export permit for your rifles in your hands before the agent leaves you at the airport (that’s another story that is still working out).

Close

I have to say that Paul Horsly is a fine PH and Anton the Chief Tracker is superb. The association of Adam Clements Safari Trackers and Tanzania Bundu Safaris is a good one. They run a hellova fine camp. When the little startup glitches are worked out, you’ll have a fine hunt and a grand time! North Mahenge is a good place, but would be better when the grass is burned. Ask about the tradeoff between later in the season when the grass will be gone and the ambient temperature. There has to be a sweeter spot than I bumped into this year with the late rains.

Congratulations on securing an Old battle Skared Warrior! Sounds like you had an excellent time and I am sure you will always cherish your great trophy.

That was a very enjoyable read.

Thanks,

Great story, well told. Sounds like you had a challenging and ultimately a very rewarding hunt. Buffalo in the tall grass must be a hoot (although at the time I suppose you called it something else!).

Thanks for the report!

OH-MY-GOSH!!!! What a great trip and experience! Thanks for sharing the fine photos and "taking us along" on a fantastic Tanzanian adventure.

Congratulations, Mr. Mike-- I'll bet you are still grinning!

Mike ..... that's an EXCEPTIONAL story ...... a great read. Man, I can't wait for an experience like you've had !!!

Mike
It sounds like you had a real adventure complete with hot and cold running carnivores!

I can't wait to see the trophies and photos

Thanks for thed report -- nicely done.

I hope your rifle isn't still in Tanzania!

mstarling
Nice buff. Great hunt. There are no flies on that buff. He has that "You owe me money look"
Well done.

Mike,
Let me congratulate you on a superb trophy. IMO you have taken a fantastic buff I would shoot him in a heartbeat! And if I was glassing a herd of buff and came across this fella through my lenses, I would look no further.

The added fact that you found 2 bullets in his belly makes for an interesting story. You should mount the 2 bullets next to your trophy!

Mile, Great report! When you get rested shoot me a PM. We leave in two weeks for your camp.

Congratulations Mike,
Your well deserved luck came through - and on the last day!

Did you get to use any of your knives while there?

Hey Mike

kind of a sensitive question, but-

How was communication in general with your PH? you said he was a bit quiet, and noted a problem communicating about what you deemed acceptable for a buff, resulting in a lost oportunity.

I am asking because your PH was a black African PH, a little but removed culturally from a US born hunter. Well, so are the white African PHs, but we may have a little more in common with a white PH than a black PH.

How did he fill that role of "professional hunter and good guy to hang out with" that most of the really good PHs seem to have? It has been stated before that a PH is a hunter, a bit of an entertainer/good companion. I ask especially since you went by yourself, with no other buddies to hang out with, etc.

I do think it is a relevant question, and one that is discussed often, especially in light of black empowerment initiates, where some critics of this idea say yes, a black African PH is a great hunter, tracker etc. but falls short in the client relationship arena.

404WJJEffery,

You'll note that in the report I took full responsibility for the communications issue. It was my fault. I too am just a bit on the quiet side and have had to learn to be more forward over time. At odd times the old habits return. Is especially true when I am uncertain of myself. I think this is what happened here.

I did find Paul to be "good company," and it would be unfortunate if I left the perception that he fell short in the client relationship area. Would not be true. I prize competence MUCH more than showmanship and Paul has abundant quantities of that. Given the challenge that Paul faces in the situation he has done WAY better than I would have. He's not perfect to be sure ... but who is and how many white guys do as well? I suspect very few.

I'd very happily hunt with Paul again ... and will do so when I can afford it!

Palmer,

I've left freebee knives with PHs as I did this time. It was used and it was noted to be very sharp. But ... what PH is gonna complain about a freebee to a client before the tips are done?

I leave them because they represent something I do and time I have expended for the person. I don't really expect feedback for a while ... maybe until the next trip.

Good report, it sounds like you had a great hunt. I hope your next one is soon


TerryR

Congratulations on a great buff. That old boy is a fine and true trophy.

I really enjoyed reading your report.

Great report, thanks.

Mike, fine report...Now that you are hooked when is your next hunt..?
Missed you in Dar in fact you got off the plane I went out on...Shakari is a fine man...
What a fine buf on the last day..Lifetime memories...
You won't be a rookie next time...

Mike

quote:

Originally posted by 404WJJeffery:
Hey Mike

kind of a sensitive question, but-

How was communication in general with your PH? you said he was a bit quiet, and noted a problem communicating about what you deemed acceptable for a buff, resulting in a lost oportunity.

I am asking because your PH was a black African PH, a little but removed culturally from a US born hunter. Well, so are the white African PHs, but we may have a little more in common with a white PH than a black PH.

How did he fill that role of "professional hunter and good guy to hang out with" that most of the really good PHs seem to have? It has been stated before that a PH is a hunter, a bit of an entertainer/good companion. I ask especially since you went by yourself, with no other buddies to hang out with, etc.

I do think it is a relevant question, and one that is discussed often, especially in light of black empowerment initiates, where some critics of this idea say yes, a black African PH is a great hunter, tracker etc. but falls short in the client relationship arena.

Jeez, 404, why not postulate that Time Warner AOL is on its ass because their black CEO can't communicate with white guys. After all, perhaps he grew up in different circles than you and me.

I had lunch once with Paul H. and I have a lot of respect for the guy, because he didn't strangle the total SCI "ringmaster" collector at the table, who incidentally was his client.

He didn't seem to have any problems at all. Let's face it, boys, we are going to have more black PHs in the future, not less.

Mike,

Great report and that buffalo is a true trophy!!!

Phil

AZ Writer

Sorry, I didn't realize that Richards Parsons was from Tanzania. Oh, wait a sec, he isn't from Tanzania! I could probably relate to Mr. Parsons a little more easily, culturally, than someone from Tanzania, since, after all, he was a White House Advisor, a partner at Patterson, Belknap and a former bank president.

I hope you don't think that all people who are black are the same e.g. Richard Parsons, black man = Paul Horsley, black man?

Against the subtle implication of racism you seem to ascribe to me, I ask, which position is more racist- one black man is the same as another, or my position- where this hunter in his post related that a) Paul Horsley was a little quiet, (I read difficult to communicate with) and b) there was a definite miscommunication problem re the buff, and thereby asked if it was a problem communicating with a black African.

Further, don't you think it is, in fact, relevant, to question one's ability to relate to one's PH, especially when one's PH admittedly did "grow up in different cirlces than you and me"?

I suppose this is why many try to meet and communicate with their PH at SCI or on the phone before booking an expensive trip. Is the chemistry satisfactory? Will I look on two weeks with this particular PH and think the experience was enhanced or diminished by our "cultural differences"?

I think about these things, and would likely book first with someone I could relate to best over another which I thought I could not.

Fair enough?

This is probably MUCH more of an issue of Mike being in the camp without other hunting buddies than it is a black - white issue. When one on one with a new-to-you PH, it would be easy for a little miscommunication to occur until some familiarity occurred between two individuals. Mike, no doubt, has made a friend for life, and I'm sure can't wait for his next opportunity to hunt with Paul.

I already spoke to this issue ... and I meant what I said ... old traits come out at the oddest times and it was MY fault. Had nothing to do with black-white or with Paul's cultural background. Frankly, I don't think I ever really noticed Paul's color. I was very much impressed with his expertise.

What I did not say earlier, is that of the three Ph's I've hunted with Paul is the most engaging in camp and clearest in the field. That being said, I also very much enjoyed hunting with Gary from Mafigeni.

In terms of chemisty, I'm sure I would also enjoy hunting with Shakiri. Breakfast with him was fun.

Mike

What a great Buffalo!! I love it!! You wrote a super report Mike, I enjoyed it alot! Glad you had a good trip

Excellent report thanks for sharing it with us

Great post and excellent buff.

Thanks for sharing.

Hello Mike

Congratulations on your well earned trophy, and thank you for sharing your experience with us.

Regards
Aziz

Great report on a great hunt! Fine old buff that you worked hard for.

JPK

Mike,
Just finished your post... excellent and informative report, super story and a fine, old buffalo! What character. You will remember the hunt years from now when you look at him on your wall. Well done.

Also, you make a great point of communicating expectations with your PH. A very important consideration whether you are hunting in Africa or Alaska!