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The thrill is in the kill

By Mahmood Sultan

In the desolate reaches of Africa, the real thrill of hunting a leopard and an elephant is alive and kicking

The adventure of going to a hunt, a shikar beings well before you even step into a jungle. The logistics, the permits and the goodbyes are indeed an adventure in themselves.

After a two-legged journey, from Karachi to Dubai and then to Harare, I was finally on my way to the final destination for the hunt.

Along with me was Ahmad and our guides, Derek and Howard. Our camp was around Lake Kariba where camp manager Tom and his wife Magi had arranged for a super meal on our arrival.

My thirteen day sojourn began five in the morning when after a nice hearty breakfast, we were off for the hunt

Hunting here is mainly driving on the forest roads and reading signs and footprints of the animals that walk or cross the road. If an interesting fresh track is seen then it is followed up to the quarry. The trophy is judged and if is of liking then it is shot by stalking. This is real hunting, so different to the canned hunting of South Africa where animals are in fenced area are fed at fixed times with fodder laced with chemicals and minerals to facilitate bigger horns.

Derek and Howee took us to the adjoining range and we fired a few practice shots. Howee then drove me to the road where he had seen the dung of a large bull elephant just a few hours back. He explained to me that the large size of the dung tells that it is of a bull and the presence of whole leafs and twigs indicates that the bull has worn-out his teethes due to age, a definite trophy animal but the ivory on it must be intact. We have to find its fresh tracks in the area and for that we started walking and climbing hills and riverbeds. But four hours later, we hadn’t found the elephant and I was very tired. We saw tracks of cows and young bulls but not the one we were looking. An elephant’s footprint can tell a lot about the animal. Large print with smooth heel indicates old bull since they slightly drag their feet while walking and it becomes smoother as they age.

On our way back, we got hold of an impala for bait.

We drove back to the camp and found that Ahmad stalked another impala group and shot three for the bait. After a soothing hot shower and dinner, all of us went to bed, amid the sounds of hyena laughing and occasional grunts of hippos.

Day two went uneventful as well. On day three we found out that a male leopard had eaten a portion of an impala. This was going to be our first big hunt. To trap the leopard, Derek tied a fishing line to the leg of the impala with another end in the blind wrapped on a reel. It was a nice evening with gentle breeze and chirping birds. Derek had a small hole to see towards the bait but he had closed my flap and the cover even blocked the view through scope. I had only Derek’s action as guide to what is happening outside. Sitting motionless for hours and on a squeaking chair is a painful affair. However, the reward is worth the trouble.

With sunset and the typical sudden darkness near the Equator, the jungle went silent. I watched Derek feeling the jerk in line and after about one minute touched my shoulder and lifted the flap. With the line jerking I felt my heart beat faster but immediately started deep breathing to calm myself down. I brought my cheek to the butt, put my finger on the trigger and waited for the light, which came from the second self-contained search light, as the first failed. I saw the leaves of trees below the bait and raised the rifle a bit and the bait came in view and then the leopard, standing on the branch beside the bait and to the right of it facing us with his face turned towards right. The cross wire came just below the chin on his chest and I squeezed the trigger. Immediately the light went out and the search light was jerked out of Derek’s hand and fell to ground.

Derek said calmly that the leopard has jumped on the line; the animal was dead. After searching for the animal for a while, we found him 40 yards from the tree.

The drive back was a pleasure, which I will never forget. All the men in the back were singing and clapping as we entered the camp. Ahmad who heard the singing from a mile away was standing near the entrance with a broad smile and I hugged him and so did every body else, for I had bagged Mr Spots.

Day four and we were still pursuing the elephant. Howee took me to a different area where he had heard elephants raiding crop fields in adjoining villages. We saw tracks of a big bull and followed it in a stream to a patch of thicket. Raffle, Howee’s trusted tracker and gun bearer of fifteen years whispered from behind me, “Bawana” and pointed half way towards a close by hill. A lone cow was standing there and her one huge open ear was towards us. Howee said that she had heard us but could not make out what we are. Elephants have good hearing and smell senses but their eyesight is poor. We continued and Howee led us to halfway over the thirty-foot left bank. We sat on boulders and he pointed to the heavy lush green thicket on the opposite bank about thirty yards away. “Bull! Can you see it now?” he whispered. I looked hard and then noticed a moving tail. Amazing how well these elephant merge in their surroundings.

Some part of his trunk and a bit of tusk was also visible. The bull after about fifteen minutes lay down on his side and started snoring. Howee went to have a closer look but the wind changed and the bull stood up and whisked in the bushes all in one graceful motion and in seconds. The silent movement of elephants through dense bushes, over hills and rocks is amazing and almost unbelievable. Howee told us that it was a young bull.

We drove to another village and saw and photographed a bull with forty pounds ivory in a riverbed. This is our insurance against failure, I told Howee and called it a day.

The next day, Derek took Ahmad to the hills and they climbed them. On top they picked up fresh buffalo tracks. “Dagga boy!” declared Derek. An excited Ahmad climbed a bank and found him face to face with a magnificent old bull standing thirty yards away. He pressed the trigger with the muzzle pointing on the neck joint of the bull. “Click”, he thought the rifle was empty. But in fact it was a rare misfire and the culprit cartridge was ejected. Soon, however, Ahmed pulled the trigger, twice and the animal was dead. The trophy measured forty-three inches with a solid boss full of scars from battles fought over many years.

I and Howee were in the meantime following another bull; our second insurance. We walked and climbed over twenty kilometres but saw only cows. Elephant hunting is all about walking and they say you hunt a lion and buffalo with brave heart, leopard with brains and elephant with legs... how true!

By day six, we were still looking for that old bull. Howee told me he would look in valleys with his scouts while I watched two valleys from top. After about five hours he came and told me that he has good news and a bad news. The good was that he found the bull and the bad were that he is two hills and a valley away. After seeing the photo of the bull, which he took by his digital camera from a distance of 150 meters, I assured him that we are going to climb early next morning. The photo showed a big bull with nice matching tusks of 55 pounds each, at least.

It was now six straight days and lot of walking without any chance of shot at the trophy bull. Raffle came to me when I was jumping on the front seat of the our 4x4. He gave me a bracelet made of elephant’s tail. This is for good luck Bawana, said he with a broad grin. I wore it on my right wrist. We started our climb at 0630 and by 8am we were nearing the top of the second hill when there was a trumping on our left about 200 meters away indicating the presence of elephants. We heard a branch breaking on our right and saw a cow but then Russell; Howee’s tracker heard an elephant feeding to our left and about 100 meters up. We silently climbed and saw the back of a big bull sticking out of a bush behind a tree. He slowly walked out, facing towards the right of us and the tusks became visible. “We are going to shoot this bull, its has over 50lbs ivory,” said Howee. I took a deep breath, pushed the safety and fired. I saw a puff of dust rising at the point of aim and his head going down as his legs collapsed. Howee fired a follow-up shot just in case. But I am sure he died with the first shot.

It was a dream trophy a big old bull in full “MUST” with matching tusks of 55 pounds of ivory. It was smiles and congratulations all over. I missed Ahmad there who was looking for his sable a few kilometres away.

The next day I took the day off from hunting and prepared to rest and cook some curry for Ahmad who had gone early in search of his sable. He found it and brought it back; with 40 inch horn. They came back for lunch and we all had “zeera aloo” which I had cooked.

We had shot all four trophies and Derek suggested that we move to Lamco hunting area for good trophy plain games. By evening our programme was finalized and a plane took us to Lamco while stopping for the night at Victoria Falls . The dinner menu included “Masala chicken”.

The next day we drove to a crocodile farm. It is massive and hi-tech with big breeding crocs and thousands of hatchlings in pens and in various sizes. Mr Body, the farm’s CEO told us that they export over $2.5 million worth of croc skin and meat every year. At exact 3pm we said goodbye to our hosts of eight days and soon the plane was air born climbing to eight thousand feet.

Ian saw my interest in instruments sitting in copilot’s seat and gave me the controls. I flew the plane for 15 minutes. Ian pointed to a rising mist cloud in the distant and said, “The falls.” He took us over the falls and gave us a fantastic view from 2000 feet. It is a massive nature’s phenomenon on Zambezi River and Niagara looks small comparing to this.

Anis the only Muslim taxi driver in Vic falls, drove us along with the pilot, to the very impressive Victoria Falls Hotel, through the Matatsi Park area which is famous for its big-mained lions and heavy tusk elephants. Ahmad looked towards me and I nodded, yes why not, if we can then we will hunt in this area together in the near future.

I took dinner with Ian while a hungry Ahmad enjoyed his well-done steak earlier. The atmosphere is full colonial and even the rooms are decorated in that manner.

The next day we walked up to the Falls and had an awesome half-hour tour. There was much water in the river so the spray was heavy and the view was misty but it really is a sight to see. We then left and we reached Taula field at about 12:30. The rest of the outfit was already there.

On day eleven Ahmad shot a giraffe and I shot a zebra. Here it is real hunting; you have to work hard for your trophy while using all the art of stalking. The next day I shot a running waterbuck. A few more animals crossed my barrel before the end of the thirteenth day as we boarded the plane to Harare. Till the next hunting trip to Africa.