There we were, big pig in the back and an hours worth of daylight remaining. That's where we decided to see if we can get a larger impala ram. So we went back to where we started Friday afternoon to start the stalk.
As we made our way to the edge of the drop-off we saw a small herd with a reasonable size ram, but they were quite far away. This is where we did our first proper stalk, keeping bushes between us and said antelope. At the end we were on hands and knees with the impala around 180m away. For those of you that have done this, crawling with a rifle is rather tiring. I ended up putting the rifle down, move a bit, then move the rifle ahead, etc. This action would cost me later. Anyway, we got close enough where I felt comfortable enough to take a shot. Rifle on the sticks and the rams started to move again. Maybe they saw me moving or they just decided to move on for tastier treats, or maybe it was time to go drink water. And I missed my chance. Slowly we followed them back up the ridge, but the light breeze was going the wrong way and they disappeared as only the impala can.
When we got to the top of the ridge, we looked to the right and spotted a very nice specimen of a kudu bull and his harem of 3 cows along a fence line. That whole day I had shots on more kudus than impala. Fortunately my freezer is quite small and close to full already else I might have been really tempted. Anyway, Dave suggested we move to the fence and wait behind the trees for impala. Apparently they tend to move to that location around sunset.
We got to the place Dave wanted to be and waited and watched. Eventually Dave saw a kudu that turned into an impala and then back into a kudu again. That is when he realised there was both a kudu and impala ram on the ridge. I just saw sheep and prickly pears. After he pointed out the same trees and gaps for the nth time I eventually saw some colour between the bushes and the hunt was on. Quick march through the depression and up the other side and a slow stalk, rifle at the ready to where we saw them. To no avail. They probably heard me and decided to go graze elsewhere.
Eventually we came to a road and started our way back to the bakkie. As we went past a place where sheep normally graze suddenly we saw a nice ram standing broadside; a textbook shot. Quick on the sticks and aimed hart-lung. The shot broke at the right time and I called it a good shot. The ram took off. Dave and me both heard the impact and it sounded good. Marked the spot where I took the shot from and made our way to the place where the ram was to start the search. I was expecting to pick it up the carcass very close by. Strangely, we didn't find blood and 2 minutes turned into 5 then 10 and still no sign of the ram. We tried getting Asterix the dog to track, but he showed us where the rest of the impala went. Light was fading fast so Dave called Cody to come help.
Cody arrived with little Rat to track the animal. Just like Asterix, Rat showed us where the other impala went and not where the wounded one went. It was quite a hike and I frightened a few sheep as well. By this time we realised that something went horribly wrong with that shot. Replaying it it my mind I still maintained that the shot was good and the only error there could have been is slightly high because it was so close (80-90m).
By now it is full dark, the dogs weren't helping and I am thoroughly dejected. If I cannot recognise a bad shot then all the good shots were just luck and I have no business hunting. Eventually Cody found a drop of blood. Out comes Rat again on a leash to follow the spoor. Again, Rat showed us that area of the farm until we realised that it's not working. Dogs back in the bakkie and back to the first spot of blood. What followed was an exercise in tenacity that I have not seen before.
Cody, with a little torch, looking for and finding spots of blood. Everytime he finds one, the spot is marked with a bit of toilet paper. Two hours later the drops became pinpricks so small that he had to explain to me that the little bit of clumped sand is actually a spot of blood. Eventually we came to a spot where there was no blood in a 20m radius from the last. That is where we decided to end for the night. The last spot was marked more visibly so we could find it again the next morning and went back to camp.
At camp we made a fire to warm up and decided on the strategy for the next day. Cody came up with a great idea. There were a lot of crows on the farm always looking for something to eat; even harrassing the ostriches to get to the eggs. Wait until an hour after sunrise and the go to where the crows are.
Dave tried to cheer me up by pointing out that as long as you hunt, things won't always go according to plan. I was not he first person to screw up, and I won't be the last.
It was a lot colder that night. I used a blancket inside my sleeping bag. A lot warmer and I slept better. Still uncomfortable though. The mattress and sleeping bag did not magical6grow like this story. Unfortunately for Dave, because I slept better, I snored louder as well. Apparently my snoring kept him awake. I remember him waking me up to change position. Unfortunately I was so entangled in my sleeping bag I couldn't.
Next morning bright and early I was up and started the fire for some heat. A cloudless night ensured a cold morning. We sarted packing our things and cleaning up. A quick breakfast and coffee and off we went. We found the last blood position quite quickly and here my education continued. Dave gave me a good rundown on how to search. The main gist is not to just look in front of you, but to also look behind you. Dave assigned me my search area; Cody went up the centre and Dave did the area next to the fence line. All the preparations were not needed because a minute or two later Cody found the ram.
What a sad sight. The bullet passed through the gut of the animal so far back it almost hit the knees. So much for my "good shot". I could not believe that I pulled a shot so far back except the evidence showed otherwise. And because it did not hit the stomache, the shot did not sound hollow hence the good shot sound. We dragged it out to the road and Cody gutted it. The smell was not good. There is a reason why gutting has to be done carefully so as not to puncture the intestines. Thankfully the Treeman had a container of water on the back so we could rinse the carcass out. Later it turned out I did lose the back half of the carcass due to a combination of meat damage and contamination. Back to camp we went to pack up and go home.
While I was inside the sleeping quarters deflating my matress Cody called from outside to help him with the "huge" warthog. When I got outside he couldn't keep a straight face as he had me "help" him carry the little piglet to the bakkie. I'm afraid that he will always remember me as the man who shot the "huge" boar.
Half-hour later everything was packed and we were on the road. My hunt was officially over. Arriving at Treeman's house, everything was unpacked and the carcasses weighed. The impala were all midling sized, 27kg to 40kg. The warthog did not weight as much as we thought. Head and legs on it was only 54kg. And piglet was 7.7kg.
