Bambistew
Well-known member
I thought I'd share this story. Seems like the only stories we read the outcome is always one shot and the amimal is dead.... I will never forget this hunt, can't say that for many of the deer/elk hunts I've been on. They all seem to run together after a while.
Day one
....We parked the bakkie and walked out to an overlook to see if we could spy any game from above. We saw nothing but an ostrich after glassing for about 45 min… We piled back into the bakkie and drove down one of the game roads for about half a mile or so, and then we stopped and Quinton (our Professional Hunter or PH as they are called in Africa instead of guide) mentioned that we would be walking through the bush, little did I know at this time that we didn’t just stop in this particular area and decide to start “hunting” but Maxwell the head tracker had spotted fresh gemsbuck tracks in the sand. I didn’t put two and two together until about four days later… We carefully started our stalk through the bush following the fresh gemsbuck tracks, or what I thought was going to be just a walk in a “good area for game” after about half a mile of walking Maxwell spots movement about 150 yards in front of us. A herd of about 8-9 gemsbuck were feeding in a small long opening directly in front of us. We all crouch down to keep the animals from seeing us. We carefully crawl on our hands and knees for about 30-40 yards to get a little closer for a shot. We got as close as we could and Quinton mentions that I stand and place my rifle on the shooting sticks once the bull looked the other direction (shooing sticks3 small sticks held together as a tripod with a strip of an old inner tube) From this point it was pretty much just a blur, I was trying to position myself for a shot on a very respectable bull, but the angle that I had placed a mopone (mo pawn ee) tree directly between him and I. The shooting sticks weren’t going to work with this one, so Quinton asked if I felt confidant to shoot from a sitting position… I slowly sat down, but the bull sensed something wasn’t right, and was starting to get a little fidgety. I carefully took aim with my 375 H&H, but the only shot that he presented me with was a frontal chest shot, I much prefer a broadside shots or quartering away, as the margin of error is much greater. The distance was probably only 125 yards and I felt that I could make the shot… I slowly squeezed the trigger and at the report that bull reared up on his hind legs and took off running to our right. I quickly chambered another round, but by the time I had and readied the rifle again; all we could see was legs and black flashes running through the mopone trees. I turned around and asked Quinton and Maxwell if they thought the shot looked good, Maxwell motioned that he thought that I had hit him in the chest by pounding himself with his fist in the sternum rather hard. My first reaction was that I thought that I had pulled the shot, and wasn’t quite as confidant as Maxwell was. We walked up to where he was last standing to look for spoor (blood and tracks), we quickly found a little blood but also found small pieces of meat. My heart sank a bit, but I was still hopeful that we would soon find him. After tracking the herd for probably an hour and close to probably two miles through the bush, we lost the tracks, as the herd of gemsbuck had run into a heard of wildebeest and the tracks became very difficult for Maxwell and Quinton to decipher. I should now mention that Maxwell could probably track a mouse in a snowstorm… in the dark, or a wounded duck in flight. His ability to see a speck of blood from 10-15 feet is truly amazing or to determine a track in soft sand… Quinton should receive an honorable mention for his ability as well. I thought I was decent at tracking, but I couldn’t hold a candle to what they can do.
There we were standing on the road trying to determine where the herd had gone, and by this time it was probably pushing close to an hour and a half from when I shot. We radioed for Illeious (the bakkie boy) to bring the bakkie around so that we could get a cool drink, and also to pick us up so that we could make a quick drive over to the nearest koppie (pronounced “copy”, which in Africans basically translates to rock outcropping.) to see if we could spy the group of gemsbuck.
We crawled up on the koppie and started glassing, I spotted them first about 5-600 yards away feeding in the shade… this boosted my confidences a little since it was me that had seen them first… We quickly made a plan, and off we went to try and intercept them. They were divided into two groups and were separated by about 50 yards in the bush. The plan was to sneak between the groups, find the wounded bull and shoot him… sounded easy enough. We had no problems sneaking and crawling to within 40-50 yards of the groups as the wind was perfect, but finding the wounded bull was the challenge. The bush was just to thick! Then we were busted by our movement and off they ran. By this time it was pushing 11am and we decided to leave them be and come back in the afternoon and pick up the spoor again. The animals pretty much stop moving once it gets hot out, and it was starting to get hot! We returned to camp for lunch and a nap, all the while I had a knot in my stomach that we may not find the bull. I was kicking myself for taking the first shot, as I rarely take shots like that unless the animal is really close.
After lunch we decided that we would go sit in a pit blind near the water hole in hopes that the herd of gemsbuck would come into water. Upon inspection of the tracks at the tank, it was determined that they had not watered since the day before and that there would be a pretty good chance that they would come in and we could finish him off. While we were waiting at the blind, Maxwell and Brighton the second tracker were hot on the trail of the wounded bull. We go word after sitting in the blind for about an hour that they had spotted them. Quinton found out where they had seen them, and we headed for a large clearing which they should move through. The herd moved faster than we thought and didn’t come through the end of the clearing which we hoped they would. We quickly hustled to the nearest koppie and Quinton spotted them walking away from us. We all hopped in the bakkie and quickly drove to get in front of them. We hopped out of he bakkie and moved to intercept. We walked probably 3-400 yards through the bush before we ran into them. They were all moving slowly and feeding along, but were scattered out in the mopone and it was difficult to determine which one the wounded bull was. Finally they started to start moving and single filed out. They were walking from left to right at about 150 yards. The shooting was going to have to be split second, as the gemsbuck would be visible for one second and then behind a tree the next. This was also going to be a challenge for Maxwell and Quinton to determine which was the wounded bull and which was not and to quickly relay that to me with enough time to shoot. The first time they gave me the go ahead, by the time I heard the word shoot, the bull was behind a tree offering no shot… this happened twice. The herd finally figured out something was up as they made it down wind from us and started to pick up the pace a little… Finally they moved through a break in the trees that was about double the body length of a gemsbuck and the message was relayed, I fired and hit the wounded bull as he was trotting away at about 135-140 yards… He stumbled and lunged forward running his nose into the dirt and took off running after the herd. We walked up to were he was standing and found good pink frothy blood, and then tracks and lots more blood, we were all very confidant that we were going to find him shortly by the amount of blood that we were seeing in the sand. We followed the spoor for close to another hour, and finally ran into the herd again. But with the light fading, and not being able to determine the wounded bull from the rest at 200-250 yards in the trees. We decided to leave him be until the morning and hopefully come back and find him dead at first light.
Day 2
After a restless night, we awoke about at dawn, had a quick bite to eat and a cup of coffee, and made the long drive to the spot where we last left the bull the night before. We followed the spoor for about 3-400 yards through the bush along the top of the rim rock until the herd dropped off into the valley floor below. We lost the spoor here and looked for probably half an hour trying to decipher what direction the heard went. The problem was that the herd had kicked the bull out and was trying to keep him away from them since they could smell the blood and knew that if he stayed around them to close he would be come a liability to their welfare by attracting one of the various predators that come out at night. We decided to not waste the entire morning looking for the spoor as it would still be there in an hour or two, but rather to move up around the rim rock to over look into another small valley, in hopes of spying the herd of gemsbuck or even an elusive kudu bull. We silently crept to the edge of a cliff and immediately spotted a herd of wildebeests, which included a monster bull. I thought twice about telling them that I wanted him, but I wanted to find the gemsbuck first. With them, we also spotted two small kudu bulls, a couple kudu cows, 5-6 zebra, and 4 impala rams, one of which was a very impressive ram as well!
We sat and watched them for a while, but no sign of the gemsbuck. We slowly backed off, and moved back around the rim. We decided that we would go sit at the waterhole again. The idea was that they gemsbuck had not drank for two days and that there was a very high likelihood that they would come in and drink. We left Maxwell and Brighton at the last place we saw blood and Leah, Quinton and I headed for the blind to wait them out until lunch time.
A few animals came in, including another herd of wildebeest, a few kudu cows and a troop of baboons. 11am rolled around and it had heated up to probably close to 90 degrees. The animals wouldn’t be moving until later on in the afternoon when it cooled of around 3ish so, we called Illeious with the bakkie and we packed up and headed back to camp for breakfast. I was sick to my stomach as we had gone over 24 hours and still not found the bull. Quinton reassured me that he had never lost an animal and we weren’t going to loose this one since he was bleeding so much.
The plan for the evening was to sit at the pit blind near the waterhole again until dark in hopes of catching the gemsbuck coming to water, which by this time they would surely need. We sat for 3 hours and the only thing that came in was a troop of baboons and a small herd of kudu cows and little bulls right at dark. By this time I was really starting to get worried. We packed up and called Illeious again. We then headed back to camp, but on the way stopped to pick up Maxwell and Brighton on the road. They had good news! They had spotted the bull right at dark near where we had lost the spoor that morning. They said that he had joined back up with the herd so that would make for easier tracking in the morning. I felt a lot better that we had at least found him again.
Day 3
Again after a restless night I awoke, had a Rusk (a very bland biscuit like biscotti) and a cup of coffee and we were off. We started searching for spoor the last point where Maxwell and Brighton had seen the bull the day before. We found that they had moved during the night and the spoor was fairly old, but there were pools of blood in various beds. They were headed in the direction of the waterhole again, so we decided that we would leave the trackers on the trail and drive to the waterhole quickly and wait with the hope that they must be about dying of thirst and would HAVE to drink water today. We hoped that we picked the right waterhole out of nearly a dozen… again Upon inspection of tracks around the waterhole we found that the gemsbuck had not been there yet so we decided that we would wait at the blind in hopes they would come in soon. We sat for about an hour and a half when we got the call on the radio for Maxwell that they had spotted the bull bedded down. He was with the herd but not “with” them. We quickly gathered our stuff again, radioed Illeious and we were off to meet up with Maxwell.
Maxwell and Brighton met us at the road and we quickly walked back nearly a mile to where they had last seen the bull. The spoor was quite fresh and he was still bleeding from two days prior… Maxwell mentioned that he will probably be like biltong (biltong is a vinegar cured jerky eaten in Africa) when we finally find him and kill him. The bull had been bleeding about half a teaspoon of blood at just about every other step he took; no one could believe that an animal could go for this long bleeding this much.
After tracking him again for about half a mile we ran right into him. We spotted him standing in the shade of a big mopone tree and behind a thick bush. We could only see his hind end from our position, which was only about 40 yards away. Maxwell set up the shooting sticks, but there was no shot off them, I wrapped the sling around my arm, stepped to the side and into a waist high thorn bush, took aim with the 375 behind his shoulder and squeezed… At the report I instantly chambered another round, the bull spun around in our direction and for a brief moment I was a little worried that he was going to charge us, which some African antelope species( especially gemsbuck, bushbuck and nyala) are known to do especially if wounded, but he fell down, got up and fell down once more. I was the only one with a rifle, and I’m no crack shot Bwana, lucky he turned and ran to our left. I shot again aiming for his neck for a quick kill, which we later found barley caught him through the top of the neck as you can see in the picture. I chambered another round and was about to touch off a raking shot into his ass as he was running away, and Quinton mentioned not to bother, he would soon be dead. I’m thinking yeah right, I’ve heard that twice before. At this time the bush came alive, and the whole herd exploded in front of us. Every one was sure that we would find the bull in a mater of minuets and a few yards! Maxwell reassured me that he had seen the red dot, impact spot right behind his shoulder.
We followed the tracks for a short distance and then found where he had joined back up with the herd. Maxwell and Brighton followed the tracks which they thought were from the wounded bull, but after about 200 yards they determined that they were following the main herd and the bull was not with them, at least that was good news. We quickly regrouped and headed back to where I had last shot him, it had been probably half an hour since the shot. I was really starting to contemplate my shooting ability! How I could miss a 400 pound animal at 40 yards standing broadside I would never live that one down if that was the case. Both Quinton and Maxwell reassured me again that my first shot that morning was perfect. We picked up the trail and followed it for about 150 yards and came upon him laying under a tree about 25 yards away. He struggled to get to his feet, and once he was up, he lunged into a run straight away from us. By this time it was too late for him. I had the cross hairs lined up on his back and pulled the trigger… That time it was like the rug was pulled out from under him, that oh so familiar crumpling motion when all 4 legs go limp and tuck under and their nose hits the ground before their body. Well when we walked up to him he was still very much still alive however, the final shot had broken his spine but he was still able to move his head around a bit. So I put another one into his heart and the hunt was finally over! This was the first “kill” scene for Leah. She was quite emotional, which is quite understandable given the debachal this bull had put us through and his unwillingness to die. She had originally planned on killing a warthog, but was now having serious second thoughts. I was so much relieved to see him finally on the ground and the pressure was finally lifted from my shoulders. I didn’t think my PH was to impressed with my shooting ability, but later upon asking him, he said he was quite astonished that I had hit him with every shot under the shooting conditions. That made me feel a little better, but not much. I hate wounding animals and not finding them, much less wounding one and not killing him for two days!
Upon inspection of the bullet wounds; the first shot caught him in the arm pit grazing the ribcage, the second shot was low cutting the rear of the lungs, hence the frothy blood, the third shot was right behind the shoulder, the fourth was through the top of the neck, the fifth was high on the back breaking the spine as you can see in the picture and came out almost the same hole as the neck shot, and the final shot was in the front of the chest. I couldn’t believe that an animal could last that long, granted the first shot was not a fatal shot (but bled for 3 days), but the second one would have been on any NA animal I’ve hunted, I’ve killed them with much less marginal shots, and surely the 3rd shot should have killed him quickly. I couldn’t believe the tenacity and strength this animal exhibited. For this being my first African kill, I was wondering if the 375 H&H I brought was a big enough gun! I later found out that Gemsbuck are probably pound for pound the toughest animal on the planet.
He ended up being a very respectable bull at 34 ½” and 8 bases! An absolutely stunning animal! I will hunt gemsbuck again before I die!!!
Day one
....We parked the bakkie and walked out to an overlook to see if we could spy any game from above. We saw nothing but an ostrich after glassing for about 45 min… We piled back into the bakkie and drove down one of the game roads for about half a mile or so, and then we stopped and Quinton (our Professional Hunter or PH as they are called in Africa instead of guide) mentioned that we would be walking through the bush, little did I know at this time that we didn’t just stop in this particular area and decide to start “hunting” but Maxwell the head tracker had spotted fresh gemsbuck tracks in the sand. I didn’t put two and two together until about four days later… We carefully started our stalk through the bush following the fresh gemsbuck tracks, or what I thought was going to be just a walk in a “good area for game” after about half a mile of walking Maxwell spots movement about 150 yards in front of us. A herd of about 8-9 gemsbuck were feeding in a small long opening directly in front of us. We all crouch down to keep the animals from seeing us. We carefully crawl on our hands and knees for about 30-40 yards to get a little closer for a shot. We got as close as we could and Quinton mentions that I stand and place my rifle on the shooting sticks once the bull looked the other direction (shooing sticks3 small sticks held together as a tripod with a strip of an old inner tube) From this point it was pretty much just a blur, I was trying to position myself for a shot on a very respectable bull, but the angle that I had placed a mopone (mo pawn ee) tree directly between him and I. The shooting sticks weren’t going to work with this one, so Quinton asked if I felt confidant to shoot from a sitting position… I slowly sat down, but the bull sensed something wasn’t right, and was starting to get a little fidgety. I carefully took aim with my 375 H&H, but the only shot that he presented me with was a frontal chest shot, I much prefer a broadside shots or quartering away, as the margin of error is much greater. The distance was probably only 125 yards and I felt that I could make the shot… I slowly squeezed the trigger and at the report that bull reared up on his hind legs and took off running to our right. I quickly chambered another round, but by the time I had and readied the rifle again; all we could see was legs and black flashes running through the mopone trees. I turned around and asked Quinton and Maxwell if they thought the shot looked good, Maxwell motioned that he thought that I had hit him in the chest by pounding himself with his fist in the sternum rather hard. My first reaction was that I thought that I had pulled the shot, and wasn’t quite as confidant as Maxwell was. We walked up to where he was last standing to look for spoor (blood and tracks), we quickly found a little blood but also found small pieces of meat. My heart sank a bit, but I was still hopeful that we would soon find him. After tracking the herd for probably an hour and close to probably two miles through the bush, we lost the tracks, as the herd of gemsbuck had run into a heard of wildebeest and the tracks became very difficult for Maxwell and Quinton to decipher. I should now mention that Maxwell could probably track a mouse in a snowstorm… in the dark, or a wounded duck in flight. His ability to see a speck of blood from 10-15 feet is truly amazing or to determine a track in soft sand… Quinton should receive an honorable mention for his ability as well. I thought I was decent at tracking, but I couldn’t hold a candle to what they can do.
There we were standing on the road trying to determine where the herd had gone, and by this time it was probably pushing close to an hour and a half from when I shot. We radioed for Illeious (the bakkie boy) to bring the bakkie around so that we could get a cool drink, and also to pick us up so that we could make a quick drive over to the nearest koppie (pronounced “copy”, which in Africans basically translates to rock outcropping.) to see if we could spy the group of gemsbuck.
We crawled up on the koppie and started glassing, I spotted them first about 5-600 yards away feeding in the shade… this boosted my confidences a little since it was me that had seen them first… We quickly made a plan, and off we went to try and intercept them. They were divided into two groups and were separated by about 50 yards in the bush. The plan was to sneak between the groups, find the wounded bull and shoot him… sounded easy enough. We had no problems sneaking and crawling to within 40-50 yards of the groups as the wind was perfect, but finding the wounded bull was the challenge. The bush was just to thick! Then we were busted by our movement and off they ran. By this time it was pushing 11am and we decided to leave them be and come back in the afternoon and pick up the spoor again. The animals pretty much stop moving once it gets hot out, and it was starting to get hot! We returned to camp for lunch and a nap, all the while I had a knot in my stomach that we may not find the bull. I was kicking myself for taking the first shot, as I rarely take shots like that unless the animal is really close.
After lunch we decided that we would go sit in a pit blind near the water hole in hopes that the herd of gemsbuck would come into water. Upon inspection of the tracks at the tank, it was determined that they had not watered since the day before and that there would be a pretty good chance that they would come in and we could finish him off. While we were waiting at the blind, Maxwell and Brighton the second tracker were hot on the trail of the wounded bull. We go word after sitting in the blind for about an hour that they had spotted them. Quinton found out where they had seen them, and we headed for a large clearing which they should move through. The herd moved faster than we thought and didn’t come through the end of the clearing which we hoped they would. We quickly hustled to the nearest koppie and Quinton spotted them walking away from us. We all hopped in the bakkie and quickly drove to get in front of them. We hopped out of he bakkie and moved to intercept. We walked probably 3-400 yards through the bush before we ran into them. They were all moving slowly and feeding along, but were scattered out in the mopone and it was difficult to determine which one the wounded bull was. Finally they started to start moving and single filed out. They were walking from left to right at about 150 yards. The shooting was going to have to be split second, as the gemsbuck would be visible for one second and then behind a tree the next. This was also going to be a challenge for Maxwell and Quinton to determine which was the wounded bull and which was not and to quickly relay that to me with enough time to shoot. The first time they gave me the go ahead, by the time I heard the word shoot, the bull was behind a tree offering no shot… this happened twice. The herd finally figured out something was up as they made it down wind from us and started to pick up the pace a little… Finally they moved through a break in the trees that was about double the body length of a gemsbuck and the message was relayed, I fired and hit the wounded bull as he was trotting away at about 135-140 yards… He stumbled and lunged forward running his nose into the dirt and took off running after the herd. We walked up to were he was standing and found good pink frothy blood, and then tracks and lots more blood, we were all very confidant that we were going to find him shortly by the amount of blood that we were seeing in the sand. We followed the spoor for close to another hour, and finally ran into the herd again. But with the light fading, and not being able to determine the wounded bull from the rest at 200-250 yards in the trees. We decided to leave him be until the morning and hopefully come back and find him dead at first light.
Day 2
After a restless night, we awoke about at dawn, had a quick bite to eat and a cup of coffee, and made the long drive to the spot where we last left the bull the night before. We followed the spoor for about 3-400 yards through the bush along the top of the rim rock until the herd dropped off into the valley floor below. We lost the spoor here and looked for probably half an hour trying to decipher what direction the heard went. The problem was that the herd had kicked the bull out and was trying to keep him away from them since they could smell the blood and knew that if he stayed around them to close he would be come a liability to their welfare by attracting one of the various predators that come out at night. We decided to not waste the entire morning looking for the spoor as it would still be there in an hour or two, but rather to move up around the rim rock to over look into another small valley, in hopes of spying the herd of gemsbuck or even an elusive kudu bull. We silently crept to the edge of a cliff and immediately spotted a herd of wildebeests, which included a monster bull. I thought twice about telling them that I wanted him, but I wanted to find the gemsbuck first. With them, we also spotted two small kudu bulls, a couple kudu cows, 5-6 zebra, and 4 impala rams, one of which was a very impressive ram as well!
We sat and watched them for a while, but no sign of the gemsbuck. We slowly backed off, and moved back around the rim. We decided that we would go sit at the waterhole again. The idea was that they gemsbuck had not drank for two days and that there was a very high likelihood that they would come in and drink. We left Maxwell and Brighton at the last place we saw blood and Leah, Quinton and I headed for the blind to wait them out until lunch time.
A few animals came in, including another herd of wildebeest, a few kudu cows and a troop of baboons. 11am rolled around and it had heated up to probably close to 90 degrees. The animals wouldn’t be moving until later on in the afternoon when it cooled of around 3ish so, we called Illeious with the bakkie and we packed up and headed back to camp for breakfast. I was sick to my stomach as we had gone over 24 hours and still not found the bull. Quinton reassured me that he had never lost an animal and we weren’t going to loose this one since he was bleeding so much.
The plan for the evening was to sit at the pit blind near the waterhole again until dark in hopes of catching the gemsbuck coming to water, which by this time they would surely need. We sat for 3 hours and the only thing that came in was a troop of baboons and a small herd of kudu cows and little bulls right at dark. By this time I was really starting to get worried. We packed up and called Illeious again. We then headed back to camp, but on the way stopped to pick up Maxwell and Brighton on the road. They had good news! They had spotted the bull right at dark near where we had lost the spoor that morning. They said that he had joined back up with the herd so that would make for easier tracking in the morning. I felt a lot better that we had at least found him again.
Day 3
Again after a restless night I awoke, had a Rusk (a very bland biscuit like biscotti) and a cup of coffee and we were off. We started searching for spoor the last point where Maxwell and Brighton had seen the bull the day before. We found that they had moved during the night and the spoor was fairly old, but there were pools of blood in various beds. They were headed in the direction of the waterhole again, so we decided that we would leave the trackers on the trail and drive to the waterhole quickly and wait with the hope that they must be about dying of thirst and would HAVE to drink water today. We hoped that we picked the right waterhole out of nearly a dozen… again Upon inspection of tracks around the waterhole we found that the gemsbuck had not been there yet so we decided that we would wait at the blind in hopes they would come in soon. We sat for about an hour and a half when we got the call on the radio for Maxwell that they had spotted the bull bedded down. He was with the herd but not “with” them. We quickly gathered our stuff again, radioed Illeious and we were off to meet up with Maxwell.
Maxwell and Brighton met us at the road and we quickly walked back nearly a mile to where they had last seen the bull. The spoor was quite fresh and he was still bleeding from two days prior… Maxwell mentioned that he will probably be like biltong (biltong is a vinegar cured jerky eaten in Africa) when we finally find him and kill him. The bull had been bleeding about half a teaspoon of blood at just about every other step he took; no one could believe that an animal could go for this long bleeding this much.
After tracking him again for about half a mile we ran right into him. We spotted him standing in the shade of a big mopone tree and behind a thick bush. We could only see his hind end from our position, which was only about 40 yards away. Maxwell set up the shooting sticks, but there was no shot off them, I wrapped the sling around my arm, stepped to the side and into a waist high thorn bush, took aim with the 375 behind his shoulder and squeezed… At the report I instantly chambered another round, the bull spun around in our direction and for a brief moment I was a little worried that he was going to charge us, which some African antelope species( especially gemsbuck, bushbuck and nyala) are known to do especially if wounded, but he fell down, got up and fell down once more. I was the only one with a rifle, and I’m no crack shot Bwana, lucky he turned and ran to our left. I shot again aiming for his neck for a quick kill, which we later found barley caught him through the top of the neck as you can see in the picture. I chambered another round and was about to touch off a raking shot into his ass as he was running away, and Quinton mentioned not to bother, he would soon be dead. I’m thinking yeah right, I’ve heard that twice before. At this time the bush came alive, and the whole herd exploded in front of us. Every one was sure that we would find the bull in a mater of minuets and a few yards! Maxwell reassured me that he had seen the red dot, impact spot right behind his shoulder.
We followed the tracks for a short distance and then found where he had joined back up with the herd. Maxwell and Brighton followed the tracks which they thought were from the wounded bull, but after about 200 yards they determined that they were following the main herd and the bull was not with them, at least that was good news. We quickly regrouped and headed back to where I had last shot him, it had been probably half an hour since the shot. I was really starting to contemplate my shooting ability! How I could miss a 400 pound animal at 40 yards standing broadside I would never live that one down if that was the case. Both Quinton and Maxwell reassured me again that my first shot that morning was perfect. We picked up the trail and followed it for about 150 yards and came upon him laying under a tree about 25 yards away. He struggled to get to his feet, and once he was up, he lunged into a run straight away from us. By this time it was too late for him. I had the cross hairs lined up on his back and pulled the trigger… That time it was like the rug was pulled out from under him, that oh so familiar crumpling motion when all 4 legs go limp and tuck under and their nose hits the ground before their body. Well when we walked up to him he was still very much still alive however, the final shot had broken his spine but he was still able to move his head around a bit. So I put another one into his heart and the hunt was finally over! This was the first “kill” scene for Leah. She was quite emotional, which is quite understandable given the debachal this bull had put us through and his unwillingness to die. She had originally planned on killing a warthog, but was now having serious second thoughts. I was so much relieved to see him finally on the ground and the pressure was finally lifted from my shoulders. I didn’t think my PH was to impressed with my shooting ability, but later upon asking him, he said he was quite astonished that I had hit him with every shot under the shooting conditions. That made me feel a little better, but not much. I hate wounding animals and not finding them, much less wounding one and not killing him for two days!
Upon inspection of the bullet wounds; the first shot caught him in the arm pit grazing the ribcage, the second shot was low cutting the rear of the lungs, hence the frothy blood, the third shot was right behind the shoulder, the fourth was through the top of the neck, the fifth was high on the back breaking the spine as you can see in the picture and came out almost the same hole as the neck shot, and the final shot was in the front of the chest. I couldn’t believe that an animal could last that long, granted the first shot was not a fatal shot (but bled for 3 days), but the second one would have been on any NA animal I’ve hunted, I’ve killed them with much less marginal shots, and surely the 3rd shot should have killed him quickly. I couldn’t believe the tenacity and strength this animal exhibited. For this being my first African kill, I was wondering if the 375 H&H I brought was a big enough gun! I later found out that Gemsbuck are probably pound for pound the toughest animal on the planet.
He ended up being a very respectable bull at 34 ½” and 8 bases! An absolutely stunning animal! I will hunt gemsbuck again before I die!!!
