SafariHunt,

Here's a pitiful try:

The flight was a long one. I had been restless and had failed to bring enough reading material to take up some time. I could hardly contain my excitement and couldn't concentrate on the reading material I had brought. All my thoughts were of the Klaserie, an area to which I thought I would never return. Frederick had talked me into coming back for another shot at a Buff. It would be good to see him and the others; Charmaine and Valie along with the camp staff. I also hoped that Frederick wasn;t kidding about having the Braai before heading out into the bush. The airline food was, well, airline food. I needed some real food.

After clearing customs, Frederick met me with his usual big smile and handshake and I knew it would be another great hunt. Frederick didn't disappoint me as the Braai was wonderful and now I was ready to travel. It didn't take long until the clutter of the city was old news and the glorious open spaces spread out endlessly before us. I was anxious to begin the hunt.

Upon arriving in camp, I was greeted by the familiar faces of Charmaine and Valie. It was good to see them. I had only met them during my first hunt with Frederick but it seemed that I had known them forever. Hunting spawns friends and bonds that last forever. I got my gear sorted and cleaned up a bit and joined everyone around the campfire. Valie asked if Frederick had told me of the old waterbuck they had spotted down by the Oliphants river. Frederick was smiling. He knew I wanted a Buff, but he knew that I wanted a trophy waterbuck most of all. He told me we would take a look first thing in the morning. Lion, hippo, croc, kudu, zebra.........they all say Africa to me. But a big mature Waterbuck materializing out of the thick bush, well, to me, there is no finer trophy. It had been a long more than two days traveling from Alaska so I said, "good night" and turned in. I fell asleep, thinking I could hear, or maybe imagining, a small herd of elephant near the lapa. I slept soundly.

It seemed like just minutes later, Frederick woke me up. There was a chill in the morning air. After tea and rusk, we headed down to the Oliphants River to try to find the waterbuck. We only took the bakkie part of the way as Frederick knows I don't like to do the Michelin Safari. Beat feet for me. We walked and glassed for several hours before spotting some waterbuck cows. Shortly after they melted back into the bush, the bull came down beside the river to water. He was very cautious but we had the wind and after getting closer, 60 yards or so, I shot. He fell where he stood, got up and Frederick told me to hit him again. I did and he was ours. Rowland-Ward? No. He was old and massive with great worn down horns. Musty and beautiful. What a first day. That night, as the fire burned down we decided to hunt the Klaserie river for the rest of the week. Frederick said there were lots of Buff. Tomorrow seemed so far away.

For the next five days, we saw buffalo, lots of buffalo. My luck had changed and the Buff were spooky, or the wind changed, or............any number of things to keep us from getting close to the bulls we wanted. Tomorrow was the last day.

Bright and early, rusk and tea, and off we went. It was if we were herding the Buff instead of hunting them. Right after lunch, as if placed there by the red gods of the hunt, a fine bull appeared, by himself, going into the thornbush. After getting the wind in our favor, we moved to try to position ourselves for the shot. And the shot came. Later stepped off at 57 paces the Buff appeared in an opening, standing, nose up, checking the wind. I was ready and when I felt Frederick touch my arm, I fired as I also heard Frederick say "No".................I shot a bull we had not seen before. We heard the bellow that signals death. His head had been partially obscured by the bush. He was very old with one horn worn down and thin, the other broken off completely. I felt badly for Frederick as he had hung in there all week and produced when the pressure was on. I was excited and not paying attention when I shot. Frederick was disappointed for me. Disappointed? No. I wish it had been the other bull but what a great week and there WAS the waterbuck.

The ride to the airport seemed to take no time at all. Frederick smiled that smile and I told him I'd ring him up after I got home..............you know for next years hunt.
As I write this, I sit beneath those old Buff horns knowing that in just a few months.....................

Joe