Part 1 of my hunt in South Africa

[piller]

I left Dallas and arrived in New York on August 21st. I stayed overnight in New York and caught my flight out the next morning. This part of the trip was uneventful and sort of boring. The flight to Johannesburg was long. I sat beside a fellow hunter named Fitz. I don't remember his last name, but he was going bow hunting in the next country North of where I was going. What I remember of Fitz is that he was about 50 years old and was a taxidermist. We talked quite a bit since we had hunting in common. He had been over to Africa before, and he had some good stories of hunting there. He told me that on his last trip he had arrowed a jackal and it was down but not dead. He walked over to just kill it with an arrow by just stabbing it, It seems that the jackal had another idea. As Fitz went to stab the jackal with his arrow, a carbon fiber arrow with aluminum coating that I had never heard of, the jackal swung its head and bit the arrow just behing the head and chomped completely through the arrow. Fitz said he backed up and used his bow to shoot the next arrow.

When I arrived at Tambo airport in Johannesburg with a numb butt and a case of jet lag that was threatening to flatten me, I was greeted by a service that my friend Josef Riekers had suggested I use to help me get through Customs. The service was everything that Joe said they would be, and I was helped through customs faster than I had gone through it by myself in New York. I have to say that the Customs agents were all very polite and that I had no problems at all. It just took some time, but that is to be expected. While going through Customs, my Guide, Chris Troskie found me and helped me carry what little luggage I had taken with me. Chris and I had met while he was in the States and he was down in Hondo at the same time that my daughter Devonna took her elk. Chris and I had no trouble recognizing each other, so his finding me was not too difficult. I travelled fairly light since Joe had pretty well told me exactly what I did and didn't need. At Chris' pickup I did somthing that made him laugh. I went to the right side of the truck to get in and he asked if I were going to try to drive. In my jet lagged fog, I didn't even think about the way that they drove on the other side of the vehicle from what we do here in the States. After we got me loaded in and on the passenger side, we went to pick up his lovely wife Sabina. Sabina had been waiting at a friends house while Chris got me out of the airport. We then loaded up a few items. While Chris was loading the items, I asked if he wanted help, but he declined the offer since he knew exactly what he was doing and truly didn't need any help, the friend who's house it was got me a cup of coffee. It was good coffee and really helped to clear the fog of jet lag. We then took off to Chris and Sabina's home. The trip took about 6 hours if I remember correctly, but it might have been more. I didn't get any hunting in the first day, but we did have time to check the zero on my rifles. They were still zeroed in for 150 yards as I had set them.

The next day we went and tried for the Zebra. We went to a concession he had access to which was owned by a friend of his whose last name was also Troskie. No relation. We drove in and glassed the area from the back end of the pickup. Chris saw a small herd that seemed worth checking out, so we got out, loaded up, and set off to track the herd down. The zebra herd had spotted us somehow and had moved on us, but it was for the better. We bumped into them on a game trail where the shot on the stallion was probably as perfect as you can ever get in the wild. The zebras seemed even more surprised than we were at seeing us there in front of us. The distance was about 50 yards. Chris had the shooting sticks out for me and I took my shot very quickly. I was out of breath and nervous, so I didn't control my breathing as I should have done, and I hit the zebra a little too far back. It was looking straight at me with its body about 80 degrees to me. I hit it in the side and it was a killing shot, but not a stopping shot. I was using a Remington M700 in 30-06, 180 grain Nosler Accubond, H414, and Remington new brass. Everything but me went perfectly. The herd took off and we had heard the hit, saw the zebra fall back to the back of the herd, saw it running with a run that indicated it was injured, but we still lost sight of them in the thick scrub. Chris had his Jack Russell Terrier named Walker with him, and the 2 trackers and Walker set off in search of the zebra. We followed. About 150 yards into the tracking, Walker took off to the right and wanted us to follow her, but the trackers said the herd went left. Chris called Walker back and we went after the herd. Walker was giving us attitude at that point, and Chris couldn't figure out why. We followed the herd for the rest of the day, and never found the zebra stallion that I had shot. We were all dejected, but Walker was obviously disgusted with us. That night, after a delicious meal that Sabina prepared for us, we talked it over a while. We decided to go back to where I shot the zebra and start the tracking all over again. After a dessert of ice cream with a little Amarula liquer on it, we retired for the night. Back in the guest house where I slept, I pullet out a pair of Gerber folding pliers and removed the sickle bush thorns from the soles of my shoes and the bottom of my feet. The thorns had gone all the way through the soles of my shoes. The next morning when we got back to where we had been hunting, Walker took off as fast as her little legs would carry her. This time Chris and I followed her. We passed some brush that we had pulled back from the day before since it was sickle bush, and Walker went around it and went right as if she were a 10 pound bass being caught on tackle designed for Marlin fishing. 30 yards away lay the dead zebra. We got there and Walker turned and gave us a look that conveyed triumph and irritation at the same time. She was truly mad that we didn't trust her nose. The zebra had jumped the sickle bush and went right while the rest of the herd went left. Even I could see that the zebra was hiding from us because it just couldn't travel any farther. The area where the zebra had been standing until it expired was just plain dirt underneath a tree. It stood behind the tree and watched us. Even with my poor shot placement, the Accubond bullet had done its job. Very Well! That was a very smart Pajama Donkey to hide that way. I couldn't believe my luck in the fact that the scavengers had not got to the zebra except that the birds had pecked out its eyes, and a jackal had eaten a part of the rectum. Gross!!! Chris had one of the trackers go get the truck while we took a few pictures. The biggest mistake I made of the whole trip was getting a cheap camera. I thought I should worry about the camera getting broken or stolen. Wow, was I wrong! I should have bought a good camera to take. I know now that the camera to take will be one with a picture viewer which can be seen in bright sunlight. We loaded the zebra and took it to where it could be skinned. Funny, but I had taken a Mora knife with me for general purposes. It had a blade of about 4 inches and a plastic handle, not an expensive knife at all. The trackers were skinning the zebra when one of them asked if he could borrow my knife. My knife was sharper and better than theirs. Even cheap Swedish steel is still good steel. The zebra skin made a nice zebra skin rug. While waiting for the zebra to be skinned, Chris and I relaxed in his friend's house. There was a very nice mount of a brown hyena there. It had really long hair and looked quite different from the laughing hyena that most of us Americans are familiar with.

[piller]

The next day we had to take Chris truck in to the dealership in town. That darned sickle bush had flattened the tires and Chris had aired them up, but they only held the air just long enough to get to the dealership. There the tires were taken off the rims and the thorns were pulled all the way through, and the holes were then patched. We then went to meet a friend of Chris' named Stoffel. I found out that the Guides cooperated because most of them had access to a limited area, and getting their clients the chance to hunt what they wanted took that cooperation. At Stoffel's house, Chris left me for the afternoon and Stoffel and I tried for a baboon. Stoffel made a very nice blind out of brush from the area and we waited. The baboons were watching something off to our right, we think it was other hunters, and they wouldn't come in close enough for a shot. The range was about 250 yards, and I was not comfortable taking the shot. My rifle would have done it with not trouble, but I have never shot it at a target that far away and held my fire.

On the 4th day, we tried for a warthog. We waited all day and never saw one. The area we were waiting at was close to their main trail to the river and showed evidence of heavy travel. They never showed up. Stupid warthogs! I'll get you yet! About the middle of the day we did take a break. We went in to town where Chris had some business to take care of. While sitting in the truck waiting, a man built like The Incredible Hulk's more muscular brother walked up and introduced himself. His name was Hannes and he told me that I would be hunting with him the next day.

The next morning dawned clear and bright. It was a beautiful sunrise that would have made Thomas Kinkade use at least a thousand tubes of paint just trying to capture it. I had been up since 5 AM and already had breakfast and coffee when Stoffel arrived to pick me up. It was about 65 degrees with the promise of a warm day ahead. We went to the area where we were to meet Hannes and his crew and waited a few minutes. They arrived with a couple of other clients and we all were on our way. At the area where we were to hunt, we stopped and everyone introduced themselves and we got ready to hunt. I was hunting for blue wildebeest and took my Marlin Guide Gun in .45-70 for this task. I was using some loads I had purchased from Mike Rintoul's company, Grizzly Cartridge Company. These cartridges were loaded with 405 grain Hawk bullets and were at the limit of what the gun could reasonably handle with any margin of safety. I wanted them loaded hot for this hunt and was only going to use as few rounds as possible. I had 40 total rounds with me, and it was more than enough. Mike really knows his business. His ammunition is not cheap, but on the hunt of a lifetime, why ruin it by trying to scrimp on an important component? My Guide Gun is equipped with a Skinner brand peep sight. I took out the center portion and it was a ghost ring sight. Since we were going to be in brush and the shooting might happen at short range, I wanted the short range fast target acquisition that the ghost ring afforded. Stoffel, Hannes, Ecksteen, Janni, and I took off in the trucks to spot a herd. Hannes saw them first. Let me describe Hannes. He is about 5'8" and weighs about 250 or 260 pounds, maybe more. If there is any fat on him anywhere, it doesn't show. He has blond hair and is one of those people who live life at full speed. He loves what he does, and he is very good at it.

After he saw the herd, we stopped and he and I got out to try to sneak up close. I had already loaded the 4 rounds in the magazine that the rifle carried and had a few other rounds with me just in case. I left the chamber empty since I am quick enough to work the lever and load the gun pretty fast. I am not as fast as Chuck Conners was in The Rifleman, but I am fast enough to have 2 pieces of empty brass in the air at the same time with aimed shots. Hannes led off and I did my best to follow. He slipped betwccn the blades of grass with the ease of a Lakota Indian hunting for scalps and he could duck walk under the scrub trees where I had to get on my hands and knees. I had thought I was pretty decent until I went to South Africa. I now know that I have a lot to learn. Despite my sounding like a drunken elephant in comparison to Hannes, we finally slipped up on the herd of wildebeest. Joe Riekers had told me to trust the Guide, and it was good advice all the way through. The herd was about 100 yards away and facing away from us. Little did they know that thunder and lead were about to ruin their bucolic existence. HeHe! Hannes told me to take the one lying down and facing away from us. I was unfamiliar with the size of wildebeest and the scrub brush was not helping me judge distances or sizes. OK. The only shot available to me was what is coloquially known as a Texas Heart Shot. I had shot the gun enough, and had actually shot a box of the ammunition I was using, so I trusted the gun to do its job. I worked the lever silently as a cat sneeze and aimed for the center of what I could see. In the excitement of the moment, I forgot that the ammunition was enough more powerful than most factory loads that it was shooting 3 inches high at 100 yards. KA BOOM!!! Hannes jumped back in surprise at the loud noise from my short barrelled rifle. A .45-70 is only a tiny bit less powerful than the rifles allowed for elephant hunting, and short barrels such as the Guide Gun has are loud. The wildebeest I shot had suddenly started rolling around like a whirling dervish having a Grand Mal seizure while breakdancing. I still swear that it was trying to turn itself inside out. The rest of the herd looked on with looks that said, "Whutt is tha matter with Bubba?" "I dunno, but he shore is lookin' funny!" After about 5 seconds of thowing itself around like it had just sat in a fire ant den, it suddenly stopped all motion. The rest of the herd stood stock still for 2 seconds. Suddenly they took off with a burnout that would have impressed John Force and Don Garlits. I know I heard a screech of burning rubber as they took off. They disappeared at warp speed as they went looking for someplace safe. The one I had shot lurched to its feet and started to run on its two front legs with its back legs off the ground. Hannes yelled for me to shoot it again, so I did. Over the sound of the KA BOOM!!! we heard the bullet smack the wildebeest again. I worked the lever and had another round in and was taking aim when Hannes put his hand on my shoulder and said to stop shooting. I stopped. When someone who can twist you into a pretzel without breaking a sweat says to stop, it is a good idea to stop. He called the others on the radio and told them to come in with the trucks. They got there fast. Stoffel was laughing at the fact that Janni and Ecksteen had asked if I had set off some dynamite. We set about the business of tracking the wildebeest. I had seen and done some tracking previously, but it was soon clear that Hannes could track like an Apache. He found 3 drops of blood and a little bid of disturbed grass to look at and he knew which way the the wildebeest was headed, how badly it was hit, its Mothers Maiden Name, who its grandfather was, and time of day it was born. We went where Hannes said to go, and about 250 to 300 yards from the starting point, the wildebeest jumped up off the ground and Stoffel put another solid shot into it. He was to my right, the wildebeest was to his right, and Stoffel's .308 moved like a homing missile as it targeted the wounded animal. The wildebeest ran about another fifty yards and stopped behing a thick bush and turned to watch us. It snorted and started pawing the ground in preparation for a charge We all got close together and Hannes waved the others behind me, and he then told me to shoot it again. KA BOOM!!! and the wildebeest started to sway and shake, All of a sudden, it went boneless and that was it. I had my Poor Man's Buffalo. Ecksteen and Janni went and got the trucks while Hannes and Stoffel and I took pictures. When they got to us, we loaded the wildebeest in the back of Stoffel's truck. I grabbed a leg, Stoffel grabbed a leg, Ecksteen grabbed the same leg with me, and Hannes grabbed the 2 front legs and we threw it into the pickup. Hannes threw as much weight as the other 3 of us. We all shook hands and then went on our way. While driving, Stoffel called ahead and Chris' trackers were waiting to skin the wildebeest when we got there. On the way, we had stopped and Stoffel picked up his son, Erik. We all 3 watched the skinning and 2 of my 4 bullets were recovered, as was Stoffel's. The 2 that were recovered had penetrated more than 36 inches of tough meat and bone. Most North American game would have died from the first shot.since it went in beside the tail, broke the pelvis in 2 places, penetrated and broke 3 ribs, and stopped in the right front shoulder. Tenacity does not even begin to describe it.

[piller]

After the wildebeest skin was salted and stretched, we took Erik home and then Stoffel and I went to a blind that Chris had set up and tried again to get a Warthog. Nothing.

The next morning, I was awakened by a knock at the door of the guest house and there was Chris with his rifle. He told me to get my rifle and hurry up. We hustled out to the field and there were a couple of warthogs out in the open. Chris said to shoot it in the head and I tried. I hit it in the nose just in front of the eyes and it took off with a sound of rusty train wheels locked up on a track to try and stop a runaway locomotive. It was a metallic squeal to freeze the blood. My ears are still ringing from it 2 years later. We tracked it down and Chris' tracker got the tusks out and cleaned up so that I could bring them home. I made a cane for my Father using one of the tusks. That day we sort of spent doing nothing. Chris has a nice place and he has a big Rhodesian Ridgeback dog that Sabina named de La Rey after the famous General in the Boer War. I think that dog would sit and be petted all day if you would stay there.

The next morning I was driven back to Johannesburg and Tambo Airport by a friend of Chris while he took the next clients on a hunt. On the way, we stopped and I bought some items to bring back for souveniers. Unbeknownst to me, a hurricane was about to hit New York City and I was going to sit in an airplane long enough that I think I fused to the seat. I waited in the Airport for 6 hours beyond my scheduled departure time. It was so long that South Africa Airlines gave us meal vouchers and we ate at an airport cafeteria. After the meal we sat for a while longer. I was starting to get bored, when, we got to the fun part of flying. The South African version of Homeland Security came in to inspect bags and to give us pat downs. I had been up since 5 AM and had been sitting in a warm airport for 6 hours. By that time, I wouldn't had anyone in my situation raise their arms. My Right Guard had made a left tackle and was no longer even attempting to work. I must give them credit for being unflinching in the face of body odor. About an hour after that, we started loading the plane. JOY! We then sat on the runway for an hour. When we finally did take off, we were told that due to a hurricane, JFK Airport was closed and we would fly to and land in Dakar. I have always wanted to see the Dakar Rally, but all we saw was the inside of the plane. After about 3 hours, we finally took off again. I had a woman and her kids sitting beside me on this flight. The little girl, about 5 or so, decided my right arm was more comfortable than the seat and she fell asleep on me. I don't know how she could stand it, but she slept for the next 8 hours. It was a long flight, and when we finally came in to New York City, it looked clean. I guess all that water from the hurricane had washed everything to a shiny new look. We landed and I gathered my bag and my gun case from the luggage carousel and went in search of the American Airlines section for the trip from New York to Dallas. I went to the ticket desk and was trying to get in line when a woman who worked for American Airlines told me to go get my ticket at the machines and to load my luggage on the conveyor belt. The TuffPak gun case I had borrowed from Joe still had the tag on it from South Africa that proclaimed that it had firearms in it. I pointed it out to her, and said that I could not put it on the conveyor. She started yelling at me and told me to just do as she said. I guess it didn't help that I called her a puppy's mother. Except, I used the one word for it that starts with "B" and said that she better call the port authority before I had her arrested. The employee at the end of the row, where the wheelchairs and such could go, left her station and came to see what it was all about. She was ready to jump in on her co-workers side until she looked at my luggage. Her expression changed and she grabbed the other woman's arm and pulled her about 10 feet back and said very emphatically that the woman was to stay there and not move until further notice. She then said to me that I could come with her and get in line at her part of the counter so that I could have my luggage inspected by the Port Authority for Homeland Security. I took out my papers and waited. Two officers with the Port Authority showed up in short order and checked everything as they were required to do. They then asked what I had hunted and I told them. They had me close up the case and they put it on the proper conveyor for my flight, and wished me a good trip. The woman who had tried to stop me was standing there looking at me as if she had swallowed a cholla cactus and it was my fault. I tried to tell her politely, but she wouldn't believe me. I went to the area where I put my shoes and such through the scanner and waited to board my plane. The flight back to Dallas was uneventful from that point on. While I was about an hour away, I called my wife, Brenda, and she met me at DFW airport. Scratch one item off the Bucket List.

[piller]

I will be posting the pictures soon. I think I have to upload some of them.

[piller]

The zebra.

[piller]

The cane with the warthog tusk handle that I made for my Dad. My Son is holding it.

[piller]

The wildebeest.

[piller]

It was a fun trip, and 86er set it up for me in such a way that it was perfect. Chris Troskie is a perfect host, and don't think that getting outsmarted by the zebra is any knock on his abilities as a guide and tracker. That was a very smart zebra, and where I hit it, there was very little blood. If I had done a better job with the shot, it wouldn't have been so difficult to track down. If I ever get a chance to go back, Chris will be my only choice for a guide. The fact that his wife is an excellent cook and a true Lady in the European Style and meaning of the term does help. I do not think that I could have been treated better anywhere.

[JerryB]

Thanks, that is something I won't be able to do. I read and enjoyed every line of your report. What do the people over there think of Americans bringing leverguns to Africa???

[earlmck]

Great report, piller. I enjoyed it muchly!

[pwl44m]

Great Hunt, reading is all I will ever be able to do. Congratulations !!
Perry

[piller]

Thanks, that is something I won't be able to do. I read and enjoyed every line of your report. What do the people over there think of Americans bringing leverguns to Africa???

On the first part of the hunt, the guide, Chris, borrowed my Guide Gun to carry. I think he would have wanted one if the laws would have allowed for it. The guide on the wildebeest hunt only noticed the fact that it is loud. Well, that is until I fired the finishing shot. He then noticed that it reloaded very fast and that it had enough power to bust through a bush and drop an angry animal that was working itself up to a charge. This happened 2 years ago, and I have had to wait that long for PillHer to cool down at my leaving her alone for a week. Our Pastor says that she is herd bound, and that I am her herd. She is not too happy at being compared to a horse.

[BenT]

Great story.

[Tycer]

Great story!

[TedH]

Congratulations on a successful safari! I hope to follow in your tracks someday.

[Fiddler]

Interesting.
I've always heard that those South African Boers were the toughest, most self-reliant white people on the planet. Kinda like we were 200 years ago, before we "evolved" into NFL/NBA-worshipping couch potatoes.
Too bad we threw them under the bus.

[JFE]

Great hunt and enjoyed reading your story. Congrats.

[PaperPatch]

Excellent report !!! Its on my Bucket List too.

[RKrodle]

Great read Piller, really enjoyed it, and glad you had such a great time!!!

[Mike Rintoul]

Good read Mr. Piller. I think you're the man I stood beside during a buffalo charge many moons ago, no? Curious, was that any of my ammo you used in Africa? Maybe we can get some photos on our website - still struggling with the maintainer of that!

[Griff]

Great tale, Piller! Something I'd have to win the lottery to be able to do! Your cheapie camerra seems to have done a good job!

[KWK]

A nice write up, thank you for posting.

I was in Africa once on other business, and took a side trip to "hunt" in Namibia. The operation wasn't to my tastes, and we left after two days. The sightseeing that took its place was quite nice, so no great loss. I'm glad your trip turned out well for you.

[Gunnin'Wreck]

I have read that South Africa has banned the use of both autoloaders and lever actions in the last year or so. Does anyone know whether that is true or am I mistaken?

[piller]

I will send a message to Chris Troskie on Facebook and try to find out.