Elephant From Horizon to Horizon

Running After Kudu

With day 10 rapidly approaching I was starting to wonder if I was going to need to make a return trip to Africa for my Kudu. Our evening hunt ended such doubts as we spotted several nice bulls from a dry riverbed and took off in pursuit of them. The bulls would stop at the timber line and spot us as we came into range, running off in their peculiar rocking gate each time. With them headed for a far mountain and safety, Vaughan decided we needed to run after them or lose them. It was a run, stop, set-up and run again scenario that didn’t seem like it was going to end. Finally the bulls stopped at the base of a mountain and Vaughan set up the sticks and told me I needed to shoot now if I was going to get my bull. Vaughan indicated which bull was the best and I held for the top of his back and squeezed the trigger. The bull kicked both back legs, ran 10 yards and fell. Vaughan thumped me on the back in congratulations yet I saw the bull get up and run off. Vaughan assured me we would find him as he thought he was well hit.

We waited a while and then started tracking him. I was higher up on a ridge allowing the men to follow his trail without me stepping in their way when I heard rocks rattling ahead. It was my bull trying to escape, busting out of a steep rocky ravine, trying to get away from his pursuers. I put one shot into him, not slowing him down so fired again breaking his spine at the shoulders and dropping him. The second shot had destroyed his liver so he would have been mine soon anyway, but I’ve always felt it’s better safe than sorry to have another round in them. I don’t think a dram of scotch out of a flask has ever been better than that dram taken in celebration of my Kudu.

The King of the Mountain

Prior to booking my hunt with Vaughan, I was very honest with him about some limitations I have concerning my mobility. I asked Vaughan if he felt I would be OK on the hunt, and without blinking, he said "Mike, I promise to take excellent care of you, and see that you don't get hurt."

While hunting Mountain Zebra, Vaughan asked me to stay put while he went down the mountain and glassed to see if there were any Mt. Zebra about. Twenty minutes or so passed, and then I saw Vaughan coming back up the mountain, waving me toward him. Vaughan said that he spotted a herd with a nice stallion but it would involve a stalk of several hundred yards to get into position for a shot.

Vaughan carefully led me down the boulder and rock strewn mountainside, constantly checking on my condition, asking if I was still up to it. Eventually, he maneuvered me into a shooting position, and I was able to take the Zebra with one shot. I was so happy, I had tears in my eyes. Vaughan then said he'd go back for the truck and we would drive up to the downed Zebra, but I was so thrilled on having taken the Zebra, that I told him I wanted to walk down the mountain the rest of the way. It took me a while, gimpy legs and all, but I did it. Without Vaughan's taking such good care of me, I wouldn't have been able to take what I consider to be the King of The Mountain. I learned that Vaughan is a man of his word, and you can trust him with your life. I did.

Not Typical Eland Behavior

The eland were out there. Somewhere. I couldn't see them through the brush, but Vaughan had them spotted through his glasses.

We were lined up like guineas; Vaughan sitting behind a scrub mopane, then me, uncomfortably crouching, trying to be as quiet as possible as my legs went to sleep. Over my shoulder, Andreas was sitting, looking bored and staring off across the countryside.

A few years passed, and then Vaughan motioned for me to get the rifle up. As I leaned forward, using the mopane as a rest, I could see the eland. Several eland, milling about. Vaughan whispered to take the one to the right. I found him through the scope, and as it turned to move off Vaughan hissed, "Shoot!" Even as he said it, I was taking the slack out of the trigger.

The 416 went off, the eland bucked and ran, and Vaughan looked back at Andreas, who was grinning and nodding.

After waiting for Vaughan to smoke a cigarette, and for feeling to return to my numb legs, we found the big bull laying dead fifty yards away. As we stood around him, the other eight bulls all stood and stared, un-eland like, before moving off.

"Now Comes the Excitement" 

Now comes the excitement. We got a deal offered for a lion on a game ranch being plagued by them, and I decided to take one. So we sat in a tree blind about 70 yards from a bait. About 5:30pm, two lions showed up. After determining which one to shoot, I hit the lion broadside in shoulder, and before I could get off another shot, it stumbled from the shot and took off with the second male into the brush.

After a half hour wait, we started tracking and found blood, but as it was getting late we decided to return in the morning to take up the track. With two trackers, Vaughan and myself, we started off on the track and observed the two lions had split up. We started on one track, and after about an hour and half of walking we decided this was not the wounded lion. We returned to where the animals had split up and took off on the second track. In about a half mile, we located the lion lying broadside under a tree with his head against the base. He was not looking our way. After it was decided this was the lion, I took aim just behind the shoulder from about 80-90 feet away.

As I fired, the lion jumped up and with a roar he started a charge at us. I fired straight on at him and scored a hit, but it did not slow him. Vaughan fired his 458 from about 30 feet which slowed him down momentarily, but did not stop the charge. As Vaughan was reloading, he tripped on a bush and fell with the bolt open, and the lion was almost on top of him. I fired from about 2 feet away through his side behind the shoulder, which turned him off Vaughan, and he came at me. I had run out of ammo in the gun and backing up for more room, I tripped and fell on my back with the lion almost on top of me. I had the rifle in both hands and as the lion came at me. I hit him as hard as I could with the rifle, which broke his tooth as it skidded up the forend. My finger got in the way, and I got cut by the canine.

This startled him for a second. He backed off, and his left paw snapped my lower sling swivel. As he appeared to be coming back for seconds, Vaughan had got to his feet and fired broadside at the lion, which fell over about 2 feet from me.

The entire incident probably lasted no more than 5 seconds but the adrenaline high lasted a bit longer. After our hearts had slowed to a reasonable rate we congratulated each other for saving one another's skins. It took six stitches to sew up the bite, and although this could have gone very bad, it didn't. Vaughan and I now share something that very few people have experienced. He is definitely a person that passed the test of fire.