Ok just for Powderburner, since this is a rifle story and I'm on my break.
And back to the hunt. Last night’s briefing for the hunt was accurate, a two hour drive it was indeed. Across multiple dry river crossings, two track dirt/rock roads, through a few villages and as daylight crescents the sky, it revealed a mother and several small children picking fruit from local trees for breakfast. Through one of the last villages, a local man chased down the vehicle and hopped on with merely a nod in acknowledgement from our party. We drove through an overgrown field, through places no previous road existed and ended parked under a large tree.
[ame="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3n-jtfbccYE"]Rock river crossing - YouTube[/ame]
The hunting parking disembarked and before I knew it, they were off with the local man leading the way. York, myself, and my wife stayed behind. York explained we were in area the buffalo bull frequented and the local was there to show the trackers where it had last been seen. The bull would come into the fields at night and retreat up the hillside of a small koppe (we'd call them hills) in the early morning. This was where I began to experience my first of many cultural enlightenments. Seemingly people began showing up from virtually nowhere. A few were interested in us being parked beneath the tree, but most were just walking through conducting the business of the day. Ladies were walking to bore holes to retrieve water, men headed to the fields with homemade axes in tow and children just milling around as schools were closed due to Covid. Two young boys began throwing rocks in a tree approximately 200 yards from our location. I asked York why, and he noted they were knocking down the fruit to eat.
[ame="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fqpa8rDnWq4"]Rock throwing - YouTube[/ame]
One boy finally walked over to us but never said a word. He just stood there for minutes inquisitive into our doings. My wife produced a couple peanut butter crackers from her bag. He nodded in appreciation and slowly walked off to conduct his remaining business of the day I suppose. I noticed a duiker weaving between several patches of the remaining bush that had not been turned under for more maize fields. He seemed content to also pick his way through his breakfast offerings also. I felt odd, very odd. We were hunting yes? Yet people were everywhere. It was a concept I never fully adjusted to during the trip.
The trackers returned of news that the most recent sign was two days ago. The magic bull continued in his elusive ways. We left instructions with the locals to notify us if he returned. Another crazy twist for me, in the middle of BFE, everyone had a cell phone ��. To end this chapter, we never returned to this area, but I hear York is still in search of him as new hunters arrive.
York mentioned another problem bull in a village back toward camp and off we went but not before stopping at a particular tree. One with the reputation of bearing the sweetest fruit in the area. Everyone disembarked the truck and began filling their pockets with the tiny, apple like fruit. I tried one and agreed they were tasty.
[ame="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OR5VA0xA1g0"]Shake the Tree - YouTube[/ame]
And back to the hunt. Last night’s briefing for the hunt was accurate, a two hour drive it was indeed. Across multiple dry river crossings, two track dirt/rock roads, through a few villages and as daylight crescents the sky, it revealed a mother and several small children picking fruit from local trees for breakfast. Through one of the last villages, a local man chased down the vehicle and hopped on with merely a nod in acknowledgement from our party. We drove through an overgrown field, through places no previous road existed and ended parked under a large tree.
[ame="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3n-jtfbccYE"]Rock river crossing - YouTube[/ame]
The hunting parking disembarked and before I knew it, they were off with the local man leading the way. York, myself, and my wife stayed behind. York explained we were in area the buffalo bull frequented and the local was there to show the trackers where it had last been seen. The bull would come into the fields at night and retreat up the hillside of a small koppe (we'd call them hills) in the early morning. This was where I began to experience my first of many cultural enlightenments. Seemingly people began showing up from virtually nowhere. A few were interested in us being parked beneath the tree, but most were just walking through conducting the business of the day. Ladies were walking to bore holes to retrieve water, men headed to the fields with homemade axes in tow and children just milling around as schools were closed due to Covid. Two young boys began throwing rocks in a tree approximately 200 yards from our location. I asked York why, and he noted they were knocking down the fruit to eat.
[ame="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fqpa8rDnWq4"]Rock throwing - YouTube[/ame]
One boy finally walked over to us but never said a word. He just stood there for minutes inquisitive into our doings. My wife produced a couple peanut butter crackers from her bag. He nodded in appreciation and slowly walked off to conduct his remaining business of the day I suppose. I noticed a duiker weaving between several patches of the remaining bush that had not been turned under for more maize fields. He seemed content to also pick his way through his breakfast offerings also. I felt odd, very odd. We were hunting yes? Yet people were everywhere. It was a concept I never fully adjusted to during the trip.
The trackers returned of news that the most recent sign was two days ago. The magic bull continued in his elusive ways. We left instructions with the locals to notify us if he returned. Another crazy twist for me, in the middle of BFE, everyone had a cell phone ��. To end this chapter, we never returned to this area, but I hear York is still in search of him as new hunters arrive.
York mentioned another problem bull in a village back toward camp and off we went but not before stopping at a particular tree. One with the reputation of bearing the sweetest fruit in the area. Everyone disembarked the truck and began filling their pockets with the tiny, apple like fruit. I tried one and agreed they were tasty.
[ame="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OR5VA0xA1g0"]Shake the Tree - YouTube[/ame]
. As we were within 20 minutes of camp, we ran into a small herd of buffalo standing beside the road. We were able to actually stop and look them over, but the herd was split on both sides with limited visibility. At least one good bull was partially visible. York looked my way and commented, “I promise we don’t feed them hay” and “this will likely not happen again during our trip”. It actually did the last evening with 15 minutes of light but neither sighting was during our hunting window so he wasn’t lying 
. 
. 
.
Comment