Day five, puncture five, we were off to a great start.
The trip to Mashambanzou's wild R4 block in Mozambique's Niassa Reserve had been on the books for years. In reality we were off to an incredible start. For the next seven days we would never see a fence or a powerline along the two track roads we traveled. Five flat tires never slowed us down or dampened our enthusiasm. Our primary focus would be on old dugga boys. Five hunters, five dugga boys. Properly tracked and hunted on foot. Grant Taylor's team had their work cut out for them, it would be no small feat to accomplish this in seven short days. Two of us had successfully hunted cape buffalo before, the rest had not. First on the sticks would be those who hadn't when the opportunity smiled on us.
Morning one had given me a fabulous Lichtenstein Hartebeest early in the day. After lunch in the bush, we were back at it. I was hunting with my friend Bill E as we both shoot lefty. He was carrying my scoped .375 H&H and was toting my .450/.400 NE double. We had good fun in designating our group as the "A Team". It consisted of PH Grant Taylor, Driver Milton, Head Tracker Domingo, Tracker Mahmet, Bill E, and me. TIA Five's Andy Buchanan kept us honest on film. Late that afternoon, our trackers cut fresh tracks on a couple bulls, and the chase was on. Two hours after following spoor in the woodland savanna and grass, we were able to make out glimpses of two old bulls through the brush. The wind was right, and Grant quickly got Bill on the sticks. After some careful evaluation, a decision was made, and shots were fired. One bull was down, and we considered quickly taking the other, also a hammer! I set up on the sticks and waited with anticipation for Grant to say go. He then made a statement and choice that would in a few days take us down a very rare path. "Let's appreciate the bull we have". The remaining old bull spent a brief moment with his fallen wingman and then slipped off. We had an incredible 41" dugga boy in the salt!
The next three days and three tire punctures were full of exciting stalks. We had the good fortune of finding a solitary old Niassa Wildebeest bull and gave him a ride to the skinning shed. Andy went to spend time filming with the others in the group, Team Wild Bill and Team Bourdon Brothers. Three more dugga boys were taken with PH Martin and PH Calvin. Additionally, striking Bohms Zebra, Sable and baboons were hunted by the greater group. Our team's stalks had not yet led us to another bull. We tracked bulls that got us mixed into a herd of elephants one day. We quietly put solids in our doubles and cautiously made a silent retreat to the truck. We experienced elephant, lions, leopard tracks, oceans of buffalo, eland and sable with some crocodiles mixed in. The dugga boys had eluded us.
Our fifth flat tire came early in the morning of day five, at least we got it out of the way early. At 8:30 we cut the tracks of a couple bulls in the riverbed. We had been leaving early in the mornings and eating lunch on the run at this point. The hourglass was running out of sand. The grass along the banks was towering above us once we popped out and onto the bank. The tracks were impossible for me to make out, yet our trackers persisted with some strong "encouragement" from Grant. We were not letting this group off of the hook. Two and a half hours later it was getting hot. We were still on the track when we bumped the two old boys. I briefly saw one looking at us and could see his shiny bosses as they sauntered off alert but not alarmed. We sat down right there in the tall grass to rest and hydrate. We told a few lies and discussed our approach when and if the time came. We were up and at it again after thirty minutes and back on the track. A few minutes in, a solitary bull was up and crashing away from us. Fortunately, he was on his own and not with the two we were on. With the heat, Grant said the bulls would likely be resting under one of the scattered trees in the tall grass. Off we went to continue our quest to catch up.
The oxpeckers gave them away…I was telling some story to Grant as we trudged along in the heat. He politely told me to shut up. I thought it was a good story, but… He heard the birds before he saw them diving to the bulls, now resting under a tree. Who in their right mind would follow them into this grass? I couldn’t see a thing when the sticks were set up. I settled my double on the sticks and let Grant know I’d quietly taken it off safety. I made sure he knew my finger was on the side and not near the trigger, but I was ready. He looked over the bulls to confirm hard bosses and age. After a couple of minutes, the Bulls started moving to our right. That was the first time I could see anything with the height of the grass. Grant whispered yes, yes, yes, second Bull. I sent one. My follow up shot was obscured by a tree way too thick to risk it. The sense of urgency was immediate, and I put a solid in him as he cleared the tree and moved off. I could see him stagger with this second hit. Grant quickly and smoothly hit him with his .500 NE. He was down! We reloaded and waited to make sure there was no drama with him or his partner. Domingo scurried way up in the tree we were under and confirmed he was down. Mahmet bravely skirted the grass to pitch a well placed stick his way. Domingo confirmed there was no movement from his perch. Grant, Bill and I cautiously made a sweep well to the left in the event we we still had work to do. As we approached the downed bull from behind, Grant had me put one more insurance shot in him. No drama-we had all clearly communicated once the shooting started, we were all in it together. There was no room for error in the thick stuff we were in. We approached the bull not yet fully realizing what we had. Grant asked me if I understood what we had done. A scrum cap! It was the first one he knew of being taken in this block. The old warrior was ours. His smooth bosses, totally fused, horns worn down to nubs and ears tattered. The back of his neck was raw from always holding his head up on high alert. His body was losing condition. We were honored to give him a noble end. It was 11:30. Three hours on the track.
The long walk back to the truck was like walking on clouds. The A-Team had achieved what is likely to be the pinnacle of my hunting experience. We had lunch in the bed of the river that had revealed his tracks. I savored a cold Mac-Mahon 2M cerveja in that river, A proper salute to the team and this bull of many lifetimes. A true privilege for which I am truly grateful. It was a life-changing trip for our group. Five dugga boys, not hunted in herds, but tracked. We book-ended the five bulls with a 41 inch bull on day one and ended it with an ancient scrum cap bull that I undersold everyone on - “He’s very old, but he’s not real wide”. The real story came from Grant‘s prophetic words... “let’s appreciate the bull we have“.
