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"Water Buffalo at Gan Gan"

A bull we passed up in the wetlands

The bull stared at us, turned and ran, fleeing through the forest. Hooking a sapling with its horn, it crashing through it and in doing so, swung around back towards us and was now coming our way.

How to stop a water buffalo at close range? Would he drop with a shot to the chest at close range? Would a fast second barrel be required, doing what a big bore double is designed for? I prefered not to find out, prefering a broadside shot with big bony shoulders to break if possible.

Carrying my W.J. Jeffrey double rifle in the big 3 and half inch .450 No. 2 Nitro Express it propells a 480 grain Woodleigh projectile pushed by more than a hundred grains of powder at speeds in excess of 2,100 fps. Matt was carrying a .458 Winchester Magnum with similar ballistics.

The bull, an old "sweeper" with broomed tips slowed and stopped. Again he moved towards us, taking several steps, paused, looked, and came again steadily. This was getting serious, he was getting close enough we may have to shoot him whether or not we wanted him.

We waited wanting him to clear some swampy ground. If he was shot there and not dropped he could run into country which might prove difficult.

Looking good to me, the first bull out of three or four excellent bulls we had seen that morning, the first morning of five days of hunting. Tis bull as the Aussie equivalent of an "old duga-boy", the name derived from Afrikaans for "mud-boy" given to those fiesty old cape buffalo, exiled from the herds that live in bachelor herds and can be exceedingly dangerous. The old fellow was not eligible bachelor, he was scarred from fighting, his horns marked and the tips worn. A good trophy on any wall but was he good enough to take on the first morning in a prime area or should I wait? Would we have a choice?

I asked Matt, "How big do you think he is?"

Matt replied "At least upper nineties and a nice sweeper."

I raised my .450 and watched him through the sights. Picturing the shot required. He had stopped and was staring at us. So far we had seen the crescent shaped bulls for which this area is known, this was an exception. And I liked his look.

Lowering the rifle again I asked "Is he a 'shooter'?" to which Matt replied "We may have to." He continued to approach us taking several steps at a time.

"We need to decide whether he is a 'shooter', either leave or not, or shoot or not if he is a good one", I said as the bull kept approaching taking more steps, now suddenly coming forward faster.

I had my double raised and was watching him over the barrels. What a beautiful sight. But intimidating too at this range. We took several steps back, which caused the bull to stop. He was now less than 20 metres away. We both had our rifles ready now.

Making a decision to leave this bull and keep looking we backed out and keeping an eye on the stationary bull walked back to the vehicle. He was good but probably not over a 100 and we had plenty of time and might see him again. It was an exciting and fun episode. Exactly what buffalo hunting is supposed to be.

*****

I was hunting on the East coast of Arnhemland on the "Gan Gan" flood plains, the home of outfitter Hunt Australia and its owner Bob Penfold. Reputed to be one of the best water buffalo area available I had jumped at the chance when outfitter Matt Graham had organised a week's hunting at Gan Gan for his clients.

Gan Gan is the home of the Yonglu people, the traditional owners who lease concessions in the area to outfitters hunting the massive bovines, water buffalo. The area is ideal for buffalo. Large wetlands with lush feed with interspersed bush, the buffalo move from sandy higher ground in the mornings to feed out into the wetlands during the day, or among the shady paperbark creeks.

Having wanted to hunt the Northern Territories water buffalo since the early eighties, I thought I never would have the chance. I had been in the area, only a few hundred kilometres South then but had not found a god buffalo. Then the government concerned about TB in the wild game had initiated an extermination campaign a decade earlier, supposedly to wipe buffalo out. But the funds ran out, Aboriginal owners of traditional land wanted the buffalo to stay put for their trophy fee earning ability, and test shoots of buffalo in these areas proved these buffalo disease free. Buffalo hunting inn Australia would continue and not behind high-wire. And now I would finally get a chance.

*****

Getting to the area requires one to cross a continent, fly from the vibrant tropical city of Darwin to Nhulubuy, a town on the Gove Peninsula on the North Eastern tip of Arnhemland and the Northern Territory. A three and a half drive Southwards is usually done by charter aircraft, but Bob Penfold was there to pick me up. Matt Graham, my outfitter was finishing a week's pig hunt near Katherine where big boars roam, and the clients were returning home happy. Steve shared this pig hunt and was going to be hunting with us on this two-by-one hunt (2x1 hunts refer to two clients for one guide or professional hunter).

Bob was eager to see a article on Gan Gan and buffalo hunting in "The Bulletin" magazine. Craig Boddington, the famous much read American gunwriter had hunted at Gan Gan with his daughter not long before and the Bulletin had written a story on the Boddington's hunt, a couple of Penfold's clients, and on Bob Penfold himself.

After several errands we were off on the bitumen road that quickly became dirt. Chatting on the trip, Penfold surprised me saying the TV current affairs show "A Current Affair" may be up here to film your hunt."

"Bloody hell!" I thought. Talk about pressure, a television team filming your every move and hopefully not screw-ups!

The drive was enjoyable, the wooded countryside passing by, the same but ever changing. Just like the ancient land it is.

Finally turning off the maintrack which leads to the township of Gan Gan, the kilometres of bush opened up to a nice camp set alongside a billabong. Several tents, a meshed roof dining area, an annex forming a kitchen between two storage sheds, an open air shower with a wood fired "donkey", an amenity shed and trophy preparation area made up the comfortable camp. It might just do for five days. Much better than a swag dropped beside a campfire among the bugs.

*****

Meeting up with Matt and Steve when they arrived that evening, we chatted in person for the first time having talked previously on the phone and internet hunting forums. A delicious dinner over we agreed a start at 5:30 tommorrow morning was in order. Steve had told me I should take the first buffalo when I queried how we should handle taking turns. I offered to swap each day, or morning / afternoon, but he genurously insisted I go first. I said we can always change the setup later if he wished but honestly most clients at Gan Gan take a close to, if not exceeding 100 inch buffalo in the first two days. The two of us had five days so no problem and also no need to rush. Both of us wanted a 100 inch bull if possible. Why not! Putting some pressure on the guide is what they get paid for!

Breakfast the next morning, heavy fogs in the chilly morning cut the visibility right down. Not what I expected in the tropical Territory, more like hunting sambar deer in the Victorian Alps. Some first morning errands such as fueling up the hunting car, a 4WD Toyota utility with a shooting seat on back, we were off driving around the billabong down through some shallow sections of a couple of creeks. As the week went these crossngs became harder and harder to get through until the winch was inevitably required. Sometime later Matt says to me, camp is 800 metres that way, pointing to the river, we had been making a large loop to get around the deep water near the camp. A 4WD is left on the far side of the billabong cutting out a 40 minute drive with a 5 minute boat ride during wetter months.

Getting close to areas where buffalo are often sighted we stopped for some photos and decided to wait for a half-hour to see if the mists would lift. We had probably been driving past buffalo hidden from us by the fog even if they were only fifty metres away. Even after a wait the fogs hadn't changed much but away we went again.

Hey, is this the Victorian Alps, or the Tropical North?

As we proceed Eastwards towards the coastal lowland swamps Steve eagled eyed on the back banged on the roof of the cab. Not gorillas in the mist, buffalo in the mist.

Getting out of the vehicle we approached the buffalo but had to stop. The fog obscured a good look at them. Seeing one or two, now three, then four and finally five buffalo, all bulls were sighted as they moved or twitched their eyes or moved their heads. Maybe less than eighty metres away, one was definitely a trophy bull in the upper nineties but a proper look was needed. They were aware of us, cautious but not alarmed, probably wondering what we were. One of the buffalo turned and began to move off. Others crossed in front of us and moved off into the bush and out of sight into the fog. But one small bull remained watching us. He was on the far left and might not even be aware his boys had left. Worse he was a damned nuisance and in our way. Thirty minutes later he moved off and we followed hoping to find the main herd in the bush and swamp behind. Several hundred metres in and the fog now gone at about 11AM no buffalo were in sight anywhere. Back to the vehicle and continue the drive.

The fog has lifted but this bull stands guard until it is too late to follow the other boys.

Along a straight track, some higher ground to the right, another bull. A nice animal in the mid-nineties so we drive on. He will keep until the last day, we find him near that spot almost every time we pass that way.

Other buffalo are seen and finally close to a track a beautiful big beast is seen. He has lovely horns very crescent shaped, a fine animal. He is unconcerned, may have never seen a human before in his life. His horns could be thicker but tempting. We do not leave the vehicle and drive off leaving him in peace.

Buffalo move through the bush

We had been making for a point on the open wetlands but the long waits for the fog to lift lost time so we turned around to return to camp for lunch. More buffalo were sighted and then the old sweeper was sighted. Matt and I get off to have a serious look at him while Steve stayed put. Sometimes two is better than three when trying not to spook wild prey.

Having had the close encounter of the buffalo kind we returned to the Toyo. The buffalo was not charging. He was curious and nervous as to what we were and what our intentions were. But at close quarters if they decide they're having a bad day and you're in their way, you never know. One day or moment they might be unconcerned, the next day, a grouchy old "man". As Matt said, "sometimes they want to go somewhere, and if you are in their way, they just aim to move you out of their way."

Lunch at the camp by the billabong, beef sandwiches washed down by a cold beer or soft drinks. Penfold has told "A Current Affair" to forget about it. They now wanted to come the next week when he didn't have a client. While press is good, if you are dealing with an anti-gun, anti-hunting host sometimes it is better not to give them a story. Later he gets a call from "60 minutes". "60 minutes" will be doing a story next year to which he agrees to. Positive stories on hunting and firearms in the printed and TV press is a good thing. Countering the negative image the spinmakers have tried to paint legitimate hunters and shooters with.

After lunch taking an opportunity for a brief siesta we are off again in the same direction. As often happens in hunting decisions are made in hindsight. The old sweeper has prayed upon my dreams, seeing him in the shallow V of "Zabardast's" rear sight. He DID look good and as Matt said, "Take him if you think he would look good on your wall?" A definite yes. If we spotted him near the swampy creek again we would hunt him.

*****

Again more bulls were sighted and an occasional cow. Matt said we would have no trouble finding cows later where we were headed.

Steve now in the cab, as we had traded places for the afternoon's hunt.

A bull in the distance was sighted. Just like with stags, when you see a good one you know it. His horns were wide and past his body width even from this distance. Time to plan a stalk. A swampy creek to the left with brushy cover and to the right, some thicker bush. We retreated to the cover on the left and approached this wary bull now out of sight. Passing through the cover - where was the bull? He had shifted and even though we searched and entered the thicker bush he was gone. He was big and he was smart and had eluded us. But that is hunting for you. Sometimes you win and sometimes you loose.

This afternoon Matt planned to drive a track he hadn't hunted before. The map showed spurs of interconnected wetlands near the track and water buffalo are not known as 'water' buffalo for nothing.

We find that between us and the water are paperbark swamps. They shield us from the open water or perhaps cover the wetlands here. A pig is seen running off fleeing into the paperbark. Pigs are definitely present here, not in numbers but occaisional black targets of opportunity. Not yet though, we have two buffalo to take first.

Cows and calfs are sighted. One cow in particular is huge with wide horns. Body size is impressive too. But the cows are much warier than the bulls moving quickly off into the bush. Other herds have been just a splashing off into the paperbarks.

Further along we cross a waterway of several metres, shifting down to low range 4WD to cross.

The ground ascending slightly we now drive along a sandy 'bank' which is a metre or two higher than the surrounding countryside. The sandy clearings are covered with buffalo tracks and as Matt predicted we find cow herds. With the evening fast approaching, the cow herds with calfs in tow and some bulls, spend the night on these raised dry sandy banks. Unlike earlier when the cows were wary and fled easily, now they are reluctant to leave their comfortable beds.

Why this behaviour? Perhaps just for the comfortable dry sandy beds, but I speculate the raised more open banks provide a sleeping place for cow herds with young to watch for the approach of predators. No longer required in Australia but in their homelands tigers prowl.

Cows and calfs are reluctant to leave the sandy bank as dusk approaches

The track descending down into wetlands again, its time to turn around and head back to camp.

End of Day 1

Copyright 2004 - all rights reserved

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Ezine.NitroExpress.com

Edited by NitroX (16/12/04 03:14 AM)

"Buffalo Hunt at Gan Gan" - Day 2

"Zaberdast" the "Indian Gentleman" WJ Jeffrey .450 No. 2 NE with its prey.

Waking up in Arnhemland - one of the remotest places on Earth. There is something about being in a remote area. We all should do it more often.

Today we would drive the same direction as the previous morning but try to get to the open wetlands. The fog was lying on the land again but a bit less thickly than the previous day so hope was there that it would lift earlier.

A light blanket of fog lies on the forest as the sun burns it off

Down the road through the creek in 4WD and through the savannah bush.

The fog lifted as we drove and bulls are seen to the side. Glassing them it was determined they were OK but a little smaller than hoped for so off again. This was repeated several times. New bulls sighted, not seen the previous day, some seen again and rejected again, the bulls wander through the bush feeding. Sometimes near the road other times in the hinterland as a reservoir for future hunters.

No turns aside this day we approach the open expanse of grassy wetlands mid-moring through a shallow curtain of forest. Alighting from the ‘cruiser taking day packs, rifles, water and ammo we make our way along a sandy ridge. Moving down closer to the water some buffalo can be seen on the far shore. Looking along the spit of land black shapes in the distance. A couple of large buffalo.

Walking quietly through the trees we make our way towards them but Matt suddenly stops us and glasses towards the wetlands. A strip of paperbarks forms a line of trees in the swamp before the main expanse of grass but what is in front of us catches our attention. A good sized buffalo!

When he turns and looks away we make our way through the bush down to the edge of the “shore”. He is obviously a buffalo to consider and his horns as he looks away from us protrude well out from his body and reach back into nice crescents. I decide "yes, he is one I want to try for."

The bull lies down in the mud wallowing with his legs up into the air before settling down seemingly to go to sleep.

The bull resting after a wallow. We ponder our approach

From where we are there is nothing but open ground. First dry hard baked mud worked up by buffalo hooves. Then some grassy tuffs and the mud becomes wetter. Then shallow water. The bull is perhaps 150 metres from us with the paperbarks another 50 metres on then deeper water. Could we approach him as he lies facing away from us. Maybe, but if we are sighted there is absolutely no cover. In addition a good hundred metres would be through noisy water and mud.

Another buffalo bull also good is noticed to our right. Steve is interested in him and we wonder whether a one-two could be effected. “Not without loosing both capes” says Matt referring to the hot sun and warm weather. Would have been a great photo opportunity though, but probably a little hard to get them to fall down side by side (I love those photos!).

The first bull moves to chase the challenger

The other bull approaches towards the “sleeping” bull and up he gets. We may have a fight on our hands. Moving quickly towards the other the challenging bull turns and flees into the strip of paperbarks. We too shadow the bulls in the trees trying to keep sight of them. Thrashing splashing water can be heard as the big bull pushes through chest deep water pursueing the smaller bull. They move some 400 metres around a promontory of out-thrust trees.

Catching up to them they have added a good hundred metres on their distance to us though they are still in the strip of paperbarks which is now further away. The smaller bull has managed to maintain the distance from the other and they now are at a stand-off. They settle down in the cool wet deep mud to escape the hot midday sun. We too retreat to the shade and discuss a plan of attack. Only two options, look for another bull or wait them out and see what happens. We decide to wait them out so Matt fetches the vehicle and brings it to the top of the rise where we can keep watch.

The two bulls face off, one on the far left, the other on the far right

Beef sandwiches and cool softdrinks in the shade we keep an eye on the buffalo. The smaller buffalo saw the vehicle as it approached but is not alarmed. The other has his head down. We too take a siesta with occasionally one of us getting up to see if the buffalo have moved. All of us catch a couple hours sleep or read novels. My current one is Frederick Forsythe's latest novel of short stories. Great for any safari.

Where are the buffalo?

Still out there. While the herons provide an early warning signal against danger they also give away the buffalos position. The small one to the right is so deep in the water than his curved horns appear to be floating on the surface of the water. The other is also sunk well into the mud with just his head visible among the paperbarks.

Something is happening. This is what we feared. The smaller buffalo after a jolly good sleep rises and thrusts his way out into the reeds into deeper water and out of reach. Across in the distance numerous buffalo can be seen feeding. But we can't go that way, for that direction 'salties' (saltwater crocodiles) lurk.

The other buffalo stays put for a while and then amazingly begins to retreat back the way he came, intent of feeding on the succulent shoots growing among the paperbark strip. Having chased off and out-waited his contender he is intent on returning to his territory.

The target bull feeds zig-zagging through the paperbarks in the swamp

We ready for action and having lost sight of him return to our previous position. He doesn’t move out away from us but is still paralleling the land. Now we have a chance!

Quickly moving along the land we reach a spot where some trees grow out into the muddy clearing. Making as much use of the cover as we can we move when the bull faces away from us eventually having to make a quick run across open space as the bull feeds away from our direction. Through the water and mud into the knee deep swamp another 50 metres to the trees. Now the paperbark strip now shields us from his view and we can cautiously make our way through the thin trees, pulling one leg out of the sucking mud and carefully stepping forward trying to make as little noise as possible. When one hits a buffalo track it is important to keep ones balance and not fall due to the increased depth.

We make our way maybe 100 metres until we are opposite to Steve who is standing dressed in camo by a tree. The bull has zig-zagged his way though the paperbarks cutting down the distance between us. We can now see the bull some sixty metres in front of us but getting a shot would be difficult with the screen of trees. A gap in the trees needs to be crossed and as the bull feeds out towards open swamp we do this, the opening being deeper from numerous buffalo passing that way. Again another gap freezing when the bull is facing towards us is also crossed.

The bull is definitely making it easier for us. He is a glutton and intent on filling a hollow stomach not taking much time to glance around. With his head down and his horns towards us he also gives us some cover. Obviously the reason for the buffalo stand-off is some very choice tucker in these paperbarks.

Earlier we had discussed shooting a buffalo. Penfold stressed to try to break the buffalos shoulders and to give the buffalo a quick one-two with the double. Not to shoot and wait and see and then fire again but instead give a quick double tap. Matt agreed and also advised strongly to try to shoot the buffalo when he was facing towards land and not out into open wetland. Sage advice which I remembered at this point.

The buffalo had stopped and stared intently at the land. Incredibly he appeared to have spotted Steve even though Steve had never moved a muscle and it was hard enough for us to spot him in camo in the shadows. A slight gust of wind from the shore may have brought human scent to the old boy. He resumed feeding but stopped to look from time to time. I now thought this might actually aid us. The bull was suspicious of the far tree-line but was ignoring two hunters hidden and motionless only forty metres away. He fed away towards the open swamps.

Taking a stand in the open fork of a tree I rested the rifle in it and waited. Matt asked whether I had a clear shot and I whispered back I would wait for the buffalo to turn. He had been consistently zig-zagging through the strip of trees and I did not see why he would not turn again. He did and I waited for him to move from behind some trees into an opening only about 30 metres in front of us. The sound of his cropping the water-grasses and his movement in the water was clearly heard. If all went to plan he would be broadside to us at that point.

The bull stepped out from the trees (I get shivers as I write this) and out into the open. I have the Jeffrey raised resting the side of my left hand on the tree trunk and sight along the flat double barrels aligning the shallow V, the foresight and the shoulder of the buffalo. I adjust the site downwards to adjust for the rifle shooting high. The safety is off and I fire, pulling the front trigger.

KABOOM,

the rifle drives me back a step and the barrels point to the sky. Maybe my footing was less sure than I thought. As the rifle recoils I see the buffalo drop as if brain shot. He drops like a lump of lead.

Lowering the muzzles I aim to take a second shot. Pull the rear trigger, nothing, not even a click. WTF! I open the action and hear it click, maybe somehow the left barrel wasn’t cocked? I aim again and fire. Nothing except a click. WTF! This time I say it. Opening the action I see the primer has been fired. Damnation a double discharge. Now I realise the reason for the step back on firing. Reloading both barrels with two more .450 No 2 rounds I aim and fire. During this time the bull has not lain silent. After the initial shock he has recovered and tried to rise thrashing around getting his shoulders out of the mud. Again KABOOM, this time I know it, two rounds again have gone off. But another dose of 960 grains (2 x 480 grs) of Woodleigh Weldcore softpoints at 2150 fps have a similar effect. Again he goes down heavily into the muddy water.

Matt suggests loading only one barrel this time to which I readily agree. The bull is still not dead but is quiet for a while. He begins to visibly recover. It is evident his shoulders are both broken so I attempt to shoot down into his spine over his thrashing head. I make a bad shot and hit him to the right of the crest of his backbone. I borrow Matt’s .458 and shoot him in the head just above his eyeline using the scope. He is stil but then again shows evidence of life. By now I had moved to the right of the bull and could see Steve making his way to us directly in line behind the bull.

The bull is down.

Posing with the bull in the mud after an exciting hunt.

I had given Matt back his rifle so I suggested he put another in and the bullet goes in between the eyes. The bull really by now wasn’t going anywhere and he was not thrashing anywhere as much but why take a chance. The guys up here have had bulls which didn’t blink their eyes when checked get up after the trophy photos and when they were starting to skin!

Later when the bull’s head was skun out, my shot which made a bigger hole was no longer visible. Only one bullet hole was in the buffs skull, the first shot having ricocheted off the hard bone! It wasn’t into the boss but evidently the skull was still thick enough with the angle above the eyes.

Now the real work begins. The bull is halfway in mud and water. We cover him with light branches to keep the hot sun off the headskin while getting ready and thankfully Steve has brought a water bottle. Matt begins to cut through his thick skin behind the shoulders and down as low as he can on both sides and Steve begins to flay off the skin on one side as I begin on the other. The idea is to take as much of the cape off the top and then do something about the bottom of the shoulders and neck. Trying to avoid Matt having to crawl under the buff and cape it out under the water (yes this might be required). The three of us putting shoulder to the buffalo and taking hold of each of its knees manage to roll it enough to get the left side of the shoulder out of the muddy bloody water. Surprisingly it isn’t as hard as one thought before trying. One side down, now the other side. Steve being a PhD has a brilliant idea, one of the two this afternoon (the other being to open the tailgate of the landcruiser and not throw the skin and skull up higher than we had too ;-) ). His first idea is to remove the shoulder of the buffalo and when we roll him back it should be much easier. This proves a very useful tip and soon the right side of the cape is off the neck and shoulder.

The shoulder is being removed to aid in rolling the buffalo over to cape the other side. Matt wields the knife as Steve holds up the leg.

Next choice. To cape out the skull or carry it out. A buffalo’s cape weighs some 40 kgs so Matt decides to cape out the skull. We are aided in removing the skull of the buffalo by its having no rear of skull left. It is completely smashed and the spine does not even need to be severed as the back of the skull collapses as we twist and turn it. a few cuts of the knife and the head is free. While Matt finishes the caping Steve and I carry out the rifles, cameras, and extra gear. Between us we then carry out the cape, while Matt getting the skull on his shoulders brings the skull out through the mud. A better man than me. Reaching the hard ground as I get to him I offer him a drink and then we carry the skull to the ‘cruiser. This is the time of Steve’s second great idea.

A shot of whiskey each of celebration courtesy of Steve and Laphroaig then back to camp where we have a great dinner, celebrating the successful hunt with a Montecristo No. 2 each courtesy of me. To the skinning shed for cleaning up of the headskin and an initial salting. A tape measure comes out and the circumference of the base of each horn is measured plus its length. 106 inches. Not too bad at all. I won’t be throwing this one back in. The second best head taken that season. Also I am told I am the first Aussie hunter to hunt at Gan Gan for over twenty years.

Tomorrow will be a slow start with boiling out of the skull and any further cleaning of the cape before Steve gets a chance to take his buffalo.

I am happy, more than happy but as often happens also a little sad about the ending of a great hunt and the wait until the next one.

Ezine.NitroExpress.com