Like I said, each to his own. Whitetail hunting is great, anyone who likes to hunt, likes to hunt whitetails. But some look for something more than sitting against a round bail, in early evening, watching the bush line for a 200 yard shot. That doesn't seem particularly interesting to me, which is why I opted for bush hunting, and didn't do nearly as well as those who opted for agricultural deer.
Dangerous game has always been my dream, as a little boy I soaked up stories of my Dad's adventures in India and dreamed of hunting a man eating tiger. But in my early teens, the idea of hunting Africa, occurred me. Being a working guy, we certainly couldn't afford the 21 or 30 day license necessary for most dangerous game. But I could manage a 10 day hunt. Buffalo, if wounded, are arguably the most disagreeable beasts on earth, their reputation for revenge against their tormentor is the stuff of legends. If an elephant were as tough pound for pound, nothing hand held could drop him. So it was buffalo, not plains game that enticed me, and we were allowed two! I was surprised just how tough it would be to get just one.
The African thing the way we did it was a pure wilderness hunt. Hippos and a lone crocodile filled a deep pool in the river in front of the camp. Lions could be heard at night, and early morning travel usually had us meeting hippo. The early season provided only glimpses of game, due to the difficult grass conditions, which could even hide elephants. When on our 4th night, a fire ripped through the camp's kitchen, our food was primarily what we were able to shoot. Sand rivers were a new experience for us, and the heat combined with the soft sand sapped our energy quickly. It took me a couple of days to acclimatize to the conditions; the day before we left here, I was jumping on ice flows on Hudson Bay. The climate near Indian Ocean wasn't much like the climate of Hudson Bay in early July.
As it turned out getting into the middle of a herd of buffalo in the long grass was exhilarating. We were just feet away from these guys, and all you'd see was a patch of hide or the sun glint off a horn. When they became fed up with us and galloped off, the ground really did shake. There was no opportunity for a shot, but we could have been squashed by accident. On another occasion we came across a herd in thick bush near day's end, hearing these guys grunting, knocking down nearby trees, in twilight, was quite frankly frightening. Again we had no shot. There were no fish taken on this safari.
Elephants on a sand river . . .
Elephants in the long grass . . .
Our trackers burned off the grass, typically it would burn a couple of acres and go out . . .
Waterbuck on a sand river . . .
Impala in the bush . . .
What appears to be a wide flat grassy expanse you could easily walk across is shown for its true nature by the presence of the hippos. Note the guy in the center who has puffed up to make himself look larger as he prepared to challenge us . . .