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| Top Photo: Darren Cooney with his armed guards; Rangers from Hwange National Park. |
I had just hung the phone up from talking to Jerome Knap of Global Expeditions in Ontario. I had just booked an old-fashioned African safari through Jerome in Zimbabwe near Hwange National Park with Nengasha Safaris, owned by Paul Bennie out of Bulawayo.
It was to be a twenty-day hunt for an elephant, Cape buffalo, leopard and plains game.
The next thing I knew it was August 1, 2010 and I was following my professional hunter (PH) Rondon Tourle (Rodie) into some thick stuff after five or six bull elephants on the first day of the hunt. The wind was in our favour, so we moved in 40 yards and five of the bulls crossed a small opening in front of us. Rodie whispered, “Too small,” and then suddenly a huge-bodied bull walked out in front of us at about 25 yards. He had short tusks but he swung his head towards us and laid his ears forward. I heard someone say, “Don’t move.” He stared at us at 25 yards. It seemed like a lifetime to me but was only 30 seconds or so, and then he turned and walked away.
Rodie turned to me with a big grin on his face and said, “Welcome to Africa.”
I realized I had been holding my breath so I gasped a little to get some breathing going. That brought some chuckles from the trackers Jobson, Smart, and the park ranger Max.
So it started, every day we would get on some elephants or we would track some cape buffalo, depending on what tracks we found first. We did stop around noon in a shady spot by a dam with water lilies, ducks and, oh yah, crocodiles for a feed of sadza (cornmeal) and stew cooked by Rodie’s longtime tracker Jobson. Rodie said a full hunter and tracker is a happy hunter and tracker, which in turn made the PH happy. He had that figured out!
I ’d heard the trackers in Africa were amazing but the first time I saw Jobson and Smart track three duggaboys (old bull buffalo) they made a believer out of me. They followed the tracks over rocks, thick grass; you name it, they stayed on their tracks for hours.
Rodie said we were getting close so we started crawling on our bellies under more thick stuff (did I mention every bush in Africa has a thorn on it that makes you bleed a lot). Suddenly I felt a breeze on the back of my neck. Rodie softly cursed and the bush exploded about 30 yards in front of us—buffalo gone. A few more curse words about the swirling wind and we made a plan for an evening stalk.
On day eight at 6:30 am we saw a bull elephant cross the trail in front of us. I looked at Rodie and said, “Did you see what I just saw?” Rodie said, “Big black ivory, let’s get after him.”
It turned out there were eight or nine bulls in this group and they went into the thickest stuff you could imagine. We were crawling in on them at one point when all of a sudden; Rodie came to a frozen stop and slowly pointed ahead. At 10 yards all I could see was a big elephant foot. Geez! Time to back out and try a different approach.
We spent 4 1/2 hours working these bulls trying to find the big bull we had seen earlier. Then they made a mistake and started to cross a narrow, dried up riverbed about 40-yards wide at the most. As the bulls crossed, Rodie said, “Yours is going to be moving, so it’s up to you whether to shoot or not.”
Then it happened, there he was! It took me a second to get on him with the 375 H&H. At the shot, he stumbled. I’d told Rodie before hand to back me up with his 500 double if we had a situation that warranted it. This running bull was that situation. After the bull stumbled from my shot, Rodie gave him one and then he stopped behind some bush. We both gave him another round at the same time. Then he was gone with the herd.
Max the ranger said, “Your shots were good. You just got yourself a great elephant.”
The herd was making a lot of noise about 200-yards away when we heard a big crash and a loud thud. I looked at Rodie and all he did was grin and nod his head.
It was decided to go back to camp and let the other bulls move off and have some lunch. Who could eat! However, it was good to back away and reflect on what had just happened.
Back at camp, we met up with another PH by the name of Chap. He and his trackers jumped at the chance to help track the bull. When we returned to the spot where the bull had stopped after the shots, we found blood on the trees right away and in 20 minutes there was the bull, stone dead. There was one younger bull still with him, so the fellas yelled and he finally took off.
Some people had told me that when walking up on a big bull elephant you’ve just taken is an emotional moment. Well, I’ll tell you, after a few minutes, I had to turn away from everyone as I could hardly see from the water in my eyes. I looked at both Rodie and Chap and they had grins a mile wide. I tried to speak but nothing would come out. I just nodded their grins just got bigger.
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Darren Cooney with his big bull elephant
whose tusks weighed in at 46 pounds. |
What an awesome animal, it was huge! Ten feet at the shoulders and its tusks were black ivory, six-feet long and seventeen inches around at the lips. The tusks ended up weighing 461 pounds.
The next day we came back to get all the skin and meat to take to an elderly care home, but first we had to scare three lions off him. The pot lickers had chewed on the bull a bit but not too bad.
We baited for a leopard for eleven days but only had a couple of female leopards feeding and saw a few lions around our baits. We did not get a male to feed, but that’s hunting. We did see five wild dogs close to one of our baits on a riverbed. They had just killed a kudu and were tearing it to pieces. They reminded me of our wolves back in Canada.
Every day there was something new to see or experience. From Rodie saying, “Get down,” as a swarm of bees zoomed over our heads to tracking buffalo and running straight into a big bull elephant that decided he wanted a closer look at us. The excitement just never ended.
One day while checking a bait, a small kudu bull took off in front of us, followed by a big bull. I managed to get one in the big old bull and he ended up measuring 55 inches.
A few days later, we were sitting at a water hole and a nice warthog was making his way in for a drink. Jobson turned and gave me the “yes” grin. I let the warthog have it at 150 yards.
That same evening we were walking behind a dam to look for bushbucks when Smart the tracker stopped in his tracks. I heard the words black mamba and about three feet in front of us slithered a seven-foot snake. If you don’t know about black mamba snakes, look them up on the Internet; nothing like seeing one of the most poisonous snakes in the world to get you to pay attention.
We continued on our way with one eye on the ground and one looking ahead for bushbucks. Once we came to the dam, I saw Rodie tense up and stop. I was looking down for more friggin’ snakes and he says, “Look at that bushbuck.”
I finally looked up and across the water on the other side of the dam there was a beautiful bushbuck feeding. I lay down on a log with a backpack as a rest... after checking for friggin’ black mambas. The buck was 240-yards away, so I held at the top of his back and in line with his vitals. At the shot, he dropped in his tracks.
When we got over to him, he looked good to me but I figured out real quick that Rodie thought he was fantastic. What a beautiful animal, with all his spots, black markings and spiral horns that ended up measuring 17 inches.
Not everything goes as planned on a hunt but that’s what makes them all special. We snuck in on about 50 buffalo late one afternoon and actually caught them in the open for a change. Just before dark, I got my chance at a nice bull downhill at 125 yards. I shot and the bull went down. Then the herd moved in and around him. We got down to where they were and it was almost dark. We walked out in the clearing and all the buffalo formed a semi-circle and started walking towards us. All I can think about is the other word for these buffalo, “Black Death”.
Rodie yelled at them and they took off running the other way but what the heck, my bull wasn’t lying there anymore. I will save this story for another time but all I will say is Rodie, Jobson, Smart and Max did a fantastic job with this buffalo.
Another night we were watching four bull elephants just off the edge of a water hole when two poachers with spears and dogs came in for a drink. Max the ranger went to arrest them but one of their dogs attacked him. Two shots later, the dogs and poachers took off but I had a spear and axes to bring home that they had dropped while making their getaway. Geez! I wanted excitement, but... Oh yah, the elephants vacated the area in a hurry as well.
I hope someday down the road I can hear the words big black ivory, duggaboys, Black Death and black mambas as the African dust is rolling off my boots. There’s only one word to describe this adventure: AFRICA! ■
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On a trip full of adventure—Darren Cooney is all smiles with his African trophies.
Top Left: Baboon
Top Right: Warthog
Bottom: Bushbuck |
For previous Reader Stories click here.
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