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The Day Diana Smiled
Sometimes, you come so close to perfection, you can almost touch it. So it was with a recent hunt I guided in our Northern Concession. The client was Joe Sandberg, of Nevada, USA. Joe hunted with me in 1999 (his first Africasafari) and, even then, things went pretty good. That trip was ten days and we took nine animals in the Kalahari, seven of them making the SCI record book. Joe earned the nickname “One Shot” Joe. Apart from a mishap with a Gemsbok cow, every animal dropped in its tracks. A confirmed bachelor at 53, Joe plans his expenses around his passion, which is hunting. He booked a second safari during 2000 and we decided to explore the possibilities in our northern concession. Joe was after a big Kudu, plus a few other species, with a Waterbuck also high on the list. Of course, everything can’t be totally perfect. Joe’s rifles arrived a few days after he did, which gave rise to some anxiety. This caused us to lose a day, but with a borrowed rifle in hand, we set off for the hunting grounds, a trip of some six hours by road. I could see the suppressed excitement in Joe as we traveled through town after town. A quick stop for fuel and some biltong in Grootfontein saw us on the last leg to camp. We were greeted by our hosts Jamie and Rentia Traut and were soon settled in. We took a quick drive to the shooting range (just to make sure Joe could still shoot) and saw so much wildlife on the way that Joe could not believe his eyes. We decided, next morning, to just take a general drive through the concession (some 172000 acres big) and see what was on offer. We soon spotted a small herd of Burchell’s Zebra, intermingling with a bunch of Blue Wildebeest. Since both species were on Joe’s wish list, we decided to get a little closer. The animals were in a grassland clearing and we had to be real careful not to be seen. A fairly long stalk ensued and, when we were within range, it became clear that the Blue Wildebeest had no trophy bull in the herd. The Zebra were still around, though, and we decided to go after one. A little group of four animals had grazed over to our left and were soon out of rifle range. Two single stallions were over to the right, in amongst the Blue Wildebeest. With eyes everywhere, I did not want too much movement out in the open, so asked Joe to cover the last fifty yards or so on his own. I stayed back, where Joe could see me, so I could indicate to him what the animals were doing. Joe got down on his belly and started worming his way up to a little mound, which we hoped would give him a good shooting position. Joe finally made it to where he could see the animals, but had been spotted by two young Blue Wildebeest bulls. I thought that they would raise the alarm and get our quarry out of there, but, as they sometimes will, instead of spooking, they decided to investigate. Joe kept looking around at me and I could see he was uncertain of what to do. With elaborate hand signals and a lot of pantomime, I was finally able to tell him to sit up and shoot over his knees. Although a long shot (just under 300 yards), I had all confidence in Joe’s shooting ability, having witnessed it before. The two stallions were totally unsuspecting and kept grazing back and forth. The curious Blue Wildebeest were by now almost on top of Joe and discovery was imminent. Things had better come to head soon! Joe picked one of the stallions (both were good), lined up and shot. The solid “whump” of the bullet told me that the animal was hit hard and I could see him stumble. The left front leg was hanging loose and I told Joe to let him have another shot. Solidly hit again, the animal moved another 100 yards or so and went down. We had our first trophy. Zebra and Blue Wildebeest were milling all over the place and we stayed low. Eventually things settled down and we were able to walk up to where the Zebra lay. The first shot had taken him through the left leg and low in the chest. Unfamiliar with the borrowed 300 WinMag, Joe had not allowed enough for bullet drop. The second shot was a little far back, but I suspected it to have found the liver. Whatever, the Zebra was stone cold dead by the time we came up to him and I could see the relief and elation in Joe’s smile. Congratulation all round (Joe complaining of raw elbows after his long crawl), the customary photo session, and we were off to the skinning shed. When we opened the Zebra up, it soon became apparent that Joe had not lost his “One Shot” reputation after all. The first shot was a killing hit, with the bottom of both lungs well shredded. Even without the “insurance” shot, he would have died within minutes. The next two days were frustrating. Time after time we would spot animals, put in long stalks, only to find that the trophy did not live up to expectation. Little did we know that it was simply the price we had to pay for the perfection of the fourth day. The day that Diana smiled. Up before daybreak, we sat around the fire discussing strategy. A
little despondent after the previous two days, there Quick breakfast and we were off again. Only to be back two hours later, this time with an outstanding Black Wildebeest. With horns dipping down to below his eyes and then swooping up to above his head, he was magnificent. Certainly well into the record books! There were smiles all around, now. We sat down to a fine lunch, rested a little to allow the day to cool down some, and set off again. I swear we were not gone for more than an hour. Back to camp with an absolutely fantastic Red Hartebeest, measuring well over 23 inches to the horn. The smiles on the faces of our skinning team were becoming a little strained, let me tell you! We still had plenty of daylight left and decided to use the time to recce the area where the Waterbuck (one of Joe’s primary species) normally hang out. Even on the way there, we spotted some and I began wondering whether Joe’s luck would hold. As things turned out, it did! Leaving the vehicle well short of the general area, we followed several well defined game trails. The area was absolutely rotten with fresh sign and tension was high. Because the general topography tends to be quite flat, with many bushes, sight was very limited. We kept making large loops to get to the more open space a-joining the rough two-track road that dissected the area, hoping to spot some animals crossing the road. No luck! Back in the bush, we kept walking, trying to be as quiet as possible. This is easier said than done, what with dry leaves all over the ground. All of a sudden Jamie, who was accompanying us, stopped in his tracks and pointed. Not fifty yards from us two Eland bulls were calmly browsing. What a thrill to see these magnificent beasts up close. We had everything in our favor, sun at our backs and wind in our faces, and slowly walked closer. At about twenty yards they finally spotted us, but did not spook. We stood dead still and, after carefully looking us over, the two bulls walked away. I felt great! Sunlight was fading, so we decided to walk back to the vehicle and try again tomorrow. Within a hundred yards, Jamie did his dead stop bit again and pointed. About seventy yards away, facing us, was a magnificent Waterbuck bull. He had seen us, but did not quite know what to make of us. I had hunted the area before and knew that we had better take our chance, so I told Joe to shoot. At the shot, the bull jumped and kicked but did not go down. We all agreed the animal was hard –hit and walked up to where he had stood. After a bit of a search, we found some blood splashes and took off on the spoor. Jamie is an excellent tracker and I asked Joe to go with him while I made a wide loop to see if I could pick up the spoor and save us a little tracking time. We were under pressure here, with the sun on its way down and daylight fast fading. Joe and Jamie followed the tracks as far as they could. I did not pick up any sign on my loop and eventually teamed up with them again. Joe had an extremely worried look on his face. The Waterbuck was one of his primary species and we were all worried about losing this one. Because of the fast fading daylight, we decided to fetch our trackers to see if they could find the animal. As soon as they arrived, we set off again. These guys know the area very well and I was hoping against hope that the Waterbuck would be down somewhere close. Looping out in the general direction of the tracks, I carefully searched each bush and clump of grass. My heart jumped when I spotted a strange looking hump beside a thorn bush. A careful squint through the binoculars showed me the graceful curve of a Waterbuck horn and I was sure. Whistling for the team to come on up, I motioned and pointed. Joe came rushing up, a question all over his face. Great relief all round! The smile on Joe’s face was something to see, Jamie and myself not far behind. This was a magnificent trophy. Twenty-eight inches plus to the horn and absolutely symmetrical. Photos now, quickly! Back in camp, we all felt as if we were walking on air. Two days of hard hunting had given us nothing and then, a four animal day! Diana had smiled, indeed! In the remaining days, Joe proceeded to take excellent trophies. A 54 inch Kudu, outstanding Warthog and a good Blue Wildebeest served to round out the trip very nicely.
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