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First of all, a little correction regarding the taking of David Schaible’s nyala bull on Humani, whilst I was up in Chewore with Bob Glick. PH Colin van der Linden and I had a chat the other day and it transpires that the hunters had not yet reached the vehicle when they came across the bull. What I did get right was the fact that the sun was already down and visibility extremely poor. Shooting light had actually gone when Colin and Dave picked out what they initially thought to be a female bushbuck, stepping from the shadows. The men then determined that it was actually a nyala cow, and this caused them to freeze and wait…..The wait was certainly worthwhile because seconds later followed another cow, and then the monster bull pictured below. Colin tells me that David made a remarkable shot – not overly far, but with next to no light to work with. Sorry, just wanted to clarify that, for the record.

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Right, back to Chewore and the Bob Glick elephant bull hunt. We set off before dawn on day thirteen, as usual. Despite the facts that Jombo had led us on a serious run around for three days and that we had lost his tracks the day before, most were still quietly optimistic. Some of us not so quietly, I might add! The general feeling was that we were going to pick up that familiar track again and follow it to the end of the Earth if need be. Well, isn’t the Chewore boundary close to the Earth’s end? Anyway, as pumped as ever, we set out for a showdown with Jombo. Little did anyone realize what that morning had in store. In my mind, it could have happened any other way.

The sun was just peaking over the eastern horizon and visibility improving slightly, when trackers Tayengwa and Nhamo began chattering simultaneously. Then followed a couple of taps on the Cruiser’s cab roof and I knew that spoor had been spotted. God alone only knows how these guys do it – I could barely see the road at that time, let alone a faint print on the verge! Bearing in mind, of course, that my head was still burrowed as deeply as possible into my jacket collar! Yes, it does get cold in the Zambezi Valley, as all of you who have hunted there in winter will attest to.

To be honest with you, I was not too excited about the spoor. We were en route to the Kachowe area, after all, to pick up on Jombo’s trail again, and I did not believe the new discovery could possibly match that bull’s track. The Kachowe was 30+ kilometers distant and I was impatient to be there. More to stamp my feet and warm up, I disembarked from the vehicle and joined the huddle of hunters on the roadside. I immediately noted the mood and realized we were onto something. It was a good track and the decision to follow had already been made. Layers of clothing were shed, bootlaces fastened, rifles and camera hoisted, and shortly after first light we were on our way. Unbeknown to me, I was heading towards what would be the most impressionable hunting moment I have ever had.

We had not gone twenty yards before Tayengwa declared that it was Jombo we were following. That statement certainly got our attention. The bull had walked more than 30 kilometers from where we had lost his tracks the previous day, and he was certain to be walking even further. The positive aspect was that the spoor and dung were extremely fresh, but the downside was that he was moving with intent and the Dande boundary was not too far off. He was also tacking along with the wind, displaying his vast experience. This elephant was expecting pursuit and stopping for brief periods to listen and test the air. Our coming up on him on day 11 must have given him quite a shock. I doubt Jombo has often been rumbled by hunters in recent times. What an admirable adversary he was. Although the tracking was a relatively simple affair compared to the previous days, the jesse was pretty thick and we couldn’t move as fast as we would have liked, bearing in mind that the boundary was now only a few kilometers away and we really had no choice when it came to pace – we had to move as fast as possible. As it was, we were moving too fast and we discovered this in due course when we walked onto our ever-aware and wily opponent, about one and a half hours after beginning the tracking session.

He was standing side profiled in a clump of dense jesse, statuesquely and silently, waiting and listening. As with the previous encounter, I’ll never be sure what alerted him – wind or sound. Although the wind had been pretty constant that morning, one never knows where exactly a slight breeze is headed when tacking through jesse as we were. There is a chance he smelt something suspicious before we bumped him, for he was certainly on high alert. Maybe he heard a twig crunch, I don’t know.

Tayengwa stopped abruptly and in almost the same instant Rich motioned Bob up to the plate. Bob moved fast, flicking off the safe and shouldering his rifle as he moved forward to get a clearer line of sight. It all happened in a couple of seconds, but Jombo was already moving and all Bob or I got to see was his posterior as he high-tailed into even thicker bush. God, the frustration!

Now there was no holding back. Jombo was headed towards the Mkanga River/Dande boundary at speed and we were in hot pursuit. The jesse thinned considerably and we strode along on his tracks like hounds. I only wish we had the speed of hounds. This trail was literally steaming and I don’t exaggerate in the slightest when I say we came across a bubbling puddle of urine. Crossing some open ground, we then moved as fast as we possibly could down into the Mkanga River basin, and my heart began sinking when the riverine came into view. But no, Jombo did not go straight down to the river, he began heading off along the bank! There was still a chance and the tempo was upped further, if that was possible.

We came out of the bush and into a small clearing on a high bank overlooking the Mkanga River. And the last sight we saw of Jombo was as he stepped onto the Dande bank 120 odd yards off. Then my heart really sank and my mouth gaped and my shoulders sagged. If I could have taken my eyes off the disappearing prize, I’m certain I would have seen the same reaction from four other characters, including Alan, our team player government gamescout. What a feeling – an absolutely crushing sensation that threatened to engulf me. By the time I got around to lifting my camera, Jombo was already behind bush and I only got a picture of his rear end. I was pretty familiar with Jombo’s rear end by that time. When I lifted the camera I was shaking and almost ready to start crying. No, I don’t exaggerate – the taking of a fifty pound elephant bull in Chewore would be close to the ultimate prize. For a hunter/client, an operation, a PH, a tracker, even for a lowly journalist…..

I did not want to even look at Bob. Nobody wanted to face anybody. We all traipsed down into the riverbed as we heard Jombo moving off into thick bush on the Dande side, and then we split up and each went and found a quiet place to sit. I was crestfallen – so near yet so far, and I didn’t even get a decent picture! I had two opportunities to do that and I felt I’d really failed. We had all failed.

After some time, I approached Bob. He was sitting on the riverbank staring silently at the bush across the way, where Jombo had disappeared into. I think I croaked as I tried to find the words.
‘Bob, I don’t know what to say…..’
Cradling his Krieghoff .500, Bob looked up at me and smiled, though it was a bit of a weak smile.
‘You know Dave,’ said he, ‘I’ve been sitting here contemplating a little, as I’m sure you have been doing over there. When we were onto that hot trail an hour ago, leading down to the river, when we saw that steaming dung and bubbling urine, I prayed to God, begging him to let us catch this elephant. Now, whilst I was sitting here, I have been deep in thought, putting things in perspective. Once I was done thinking, I prayed once more. This time, I thanked God that my family, my children are well and in good health. It’s done Dave, Jombo won and we failed. But we gave it our best shot for thirteen days and can that ever really be failure? We didn’t fail, we simply lost this round.’
With that, Bob Glick hauled himself up and said, ‘Where’s that truck and cooler? I’m famished, could do with a sandwich!’
Throughout Bob’s hunt, I enjoyed his company a great deal and got to like him in quick time. He was fully involved from the word go and his interest enabled me to learn much that I didn’t know. We had great fun and new friendships were certainly forged. I never realized, however, how much respect I would have for the man by the time his hunt concluded.

Of course, we never gave up. We returned to the Mkanga later that day and again the following morning. Hoping against hope that Jombo had taken a wrong turn and wandered back into Chewore, but knowing within our hearts that we had lost this round……

I wear two elephant hair bracelets on my left arm, from meaningful hunts that I have recently been on. The first is from an elephant cow that charged John Kirlin, PH Tabor, tracker Oriah and I last year, and the second is from an almighty bull taken by Don Adams earlier in the season. There is an empty space on my left arm. That space is only marked by skin, but when I look at it, I know it represents the most challenging and impressionable hunt I have so far accompanied. And yes, now, when I look back, the most rewarding as well…

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