Hunter teaches children lessons of African safari

I still remember vividly my first hunting trip to Africa. The sheer numbers of wildlife and how exotic they all looked was impressive enough to someone who had spent his life tramping through the thick brush with hopes of catching an occasional glimpse of a deer, moose, bear or some other hapless creature. But in Africa things are very different. Seeing animals in large numbers is a daily occurrence; getting the one you want is the difficult part.

It was a decision that I wasn't quite sure about. Ordinarily, I hunt Africa by myself or with just my wife along, but this year would be different. The stepchildren would be coming along -- and they had decided they wanted to hunt! Both Mandy and Ryan had little shooting experience and no experience hunting large game animals so "apprehensive" was a word that could best describe my feelings as I tried to persuade them in my sneakiest manner to maybe focus on something simple like a jackal or an African bunny -- something that would not carry an expensive trophy fee.

In Africa, conservation of wildlife is closely monitored. All wildlife on private property is the property of that landowner. Because of this, the landowner establishes the fees that will be charged if the animal is harvested. Unlike Alaska, if an animal is wounded and lost it is considered harvested and the hunter must pay the required trophy fee for the animal anyway. It is a system I agree with as it keeps idiots from shooting at everything that moves regardless of the fact that the shot may not be a good one. After all, who is going to shoot some desperation shot at a kudu carrying a $1,300 trophy fee unless they are sure of a good hit and securing the animal? It would be throwing money away! This was one of the factors that had me nervous -- the kids were using their own money to hunt these animals and the ones they had picked carried fees that were not exactly cheap. In addition, they had picked some animals that are noted for being able to withstand shots that larger animals would easily succumb to. "Apprehensive" -- I was very apprehensive. I really didn't expect them to take any animals anyway. I figured "buck fever" would set in -- they would miss by a mile -- and they would see lots of interesting animals and, hopefully, have a good time anyway.

We arrived in South Africa after an exhausting flight. After being picked up at the airport we then had a four-hour drive to the camp. I'm always excited to be back in Africa and watched the scenery as we drove; everyone else was dozing for most of the trip. Arrival at camp is always joyous. The staff greeted us trilling and waving branches immersion into a new culture -- this was to begin the children's education.

After getting established in our rooms and looking over the luxurious camp, we decided that a game drive to look at some wildlife was in order. We loaded into the Landcruiser and in the hour before sunset drove through the bushveld looking over impala, kudu, wildebeest, gemsbok, blesbok and zebra. It was exciting to me watching the expressions and hearing the excitement as everyone saw animals for the first time that they had never seen before except on television. As the sun set we returned to camp and got out our firearms to sight them in.

Both Mandy and Ryan are very good shots off of the bench and they were impressive when blasting the .300 magnum at the targets. But I also knew that targets were not quite the same as an animal partially concealed in thick thorn that is determined to exit the area as quickly as possible. We discussed the importance of shot placement and striving for a one-shot kill. We explained how the vital organs of an old world animal sit lower than those in the new world. We explained the necessity of being prepared and shooting within three seconds. The kids seemed ready so with Nardus assigned (probably much to his dismay) as their Professional Hunter (PH), we decided Ryan would hunt for an impala the following morning.

Up early in the warmth of the African morning we ate a delightful breakfast, loaded our gear, and headed to a concession that I had hunted on a previous trip. It is rocky and steep but loaded with game, and I knew Ryan would have a good opportunity at a nice impala. Upon arriving, we hadn't searched long before a group of rams presented themselves and while we waited in the truck, Ryan and Nardus began their stalk. We watched as they back and forth slowly through the brush getting farther and farther away. About 10 minutes had passed before we heard the single shot from the magnum. I climbed down and went into the brush to evaluate the outcome.

The impala had gone down as if struck by lightening and then, while Nardus was congratulating Ryan, it had staggered to its feet and took off in a flash. Nardus had thought it had been a great shot but it must have been high. Nardus put a tracker on the trail and after a while, he and Ryan started off after the tracker to see if they could locate the impala. After an hour they were forced to abandon the search with the rocky terrain leaving no tracks for the native to follow. Our only hope was to find the animal later when birds began circling. But with the end of the hunting season drawing near I didn't have a great deal of hope for recovering the impala. Ryan had learned a valuable lesson about African hunting -- shot placement was critical, and now he faced the loss of the first animal he had hunted, an expensive and humbling lesson to learn. Back at camp, Christo Kaiser decided that we must organize a blesbok hunt for Ryan to get him back in the saddle after the loss of the impala.

It was late afternoon when we went after the blesbok. Ryan made an impressive 300-yard shot that dropped an animal immediately. Then, like with the impala, the blesbok was up and running while we were still discussing the wonderful shot. It was not a pretty hunt! But eventually, under the watchful eyes of a pair of slightly nervous giraffe, the blesbok was taken. As we prepared to leave, two rhino emerged from the brush and we spent some time watching them. It had not been the perfect day of hunting. All that could have gone wrong had -- but at least the memory or the two rare creatures would take our minds off of the stress of the days hunts.

The next morning Mandy had decided that she wanted to take a zebra. I warned her that zebra were fast, wary and able to absorb good hits and still escape. But she was determined so off we went, poor Nardus picking on the kids the whole time.

"What is your problem?" He would snap at Ryan. "Why do you wear those sun glasses?" After looking over Nardus -- all 280 pounds of rugby-playing muscle -- Ryan would mumble, squirm, then remove the glasses. He just wasn't quite sure how to take the teasing Nardus was dishing out and it was quite humorous to watch. Our quest for the zebra was not too successful. Mandy missed a shot and the zebra decided that he did not want to cooperate by standing still for her so we decided to give it a rest awhile before trying again.

It was after three in the afternoon when Mandy finally took the young stallion -- a 280-yard shot dropped it as we watched from across the savannah. A second shot ceased its movements. Now Mandy decided she too wanted a blesbok. I wondered if I was ever going to get to hunt on this trip.

The next morning we went after blesbok. Mandy made two shots that were high and missed both of them. That afternoon we got word that they had located the "problem hippo" I had been after, so the remainder of the day and late into the evening was spent harvesting the rogue hippo. It was unfortunate that Mandy and Ryan had to wait at the truck during the hippo, hunt as it was most exciting, and, although I'm humble, they could have marveled at my wonderful shooting ability, but they were impressed with the aftermath and the size of the animal.

Early the next morning found us back in the savannah in pursuit of the elusive blesbok. Locating these animals in the thick brush is an exercise in futility. Eventually, the animal moved into the open savannah and Mandy was rewarded with a long shot that was placed nicely. The blesbok was hers.

We relaxed for most of the day and the kids frolicked in the pool. In the late afternoon, we decided that we would go out and look for some warthog. To me, the warthog is one of the most interesting animals in Africa. They have distinct personalities as they move nervously about and are a joy to watch. They appear so ugly as to actually be cute when you look at them for a while -- but it is the ivory they possess that is the draw for hunters.

Ryan and Nardus stalked some exceptional warthogs off in the distance while we waited in the truck. Ryan made a long shot that missed and Nardus uttered a few adjectives over and over so Ryan got the message that it was a very exceptional warthog. We sat in a makeshift blind near a muddy wallow in the afternoon heat. I listened to the birds and bugs, scanned the area and strained my ears to hear any sound that might signal an approach by any pigs. As the time drifted lazily by, I entertained myself by softly rubbing a piece of grass across the back of Mandy's shoulder to make her think bugs were crawling on her. There is so much you can do to entertain yourself while waiting.

I watched the three pigs as they circled the wallow. They moved 180 degrees and scanned the area for danger. Sensing none, they moved back in the direction they had come and then moved downhill, along the draw, to come into the mud. Ryan was ready as they approached and taking his time, dropped the largest in its tracks. Nardus pulled the pig behind a tree and we waited to see what else would approach. It wasn't long before some other pigs came in but having less ivory than the one already taken, we let them pass. A female nyala passed gracefully by our hide and the sun began setting. We decided that this was our clue to depart so we loaded Ryan's warthog and drove off through the bush. We hadn't gone far when some pigs crossed the road. One had excellent ivory so Ryan and Nardus went after him. It was beginning to get dark when Ryan fired. Now he had two very nice pigs to add to his collection.

The only other animal Mandy wanted was a baboon. She did eventually get a difficult shot at one but missed. After a baboon has been shot at they don't ordinarily set themselves up for that mistake again. Although she hunted for them again, the baboon was not to be taken.

On our last evening in camp we had a big dinner around the fire and were entertained by native dancing and singing. Ryan and Mandy were dragged unwillingly up with the natives where they danced and drummed until time for their honors. Standing in front of the crowd, Christo decorated their faces with impala blood in honor of their initiation into the ranks of hunters. He then drew out chunks of raw impala liver, which the kids had to eat much to the delight of the natives as well as Mary and I. After this ceremony Christo expounded on their virtues. He pointed out that character in adversity and in failure is a most admirable trait and talked of how well Ryan handled himself after the wounding and loss of the impala. He discussed how now they understand that hunting is more than the pointing of a rifle and pulling the trigger. It is a sport of passion, failure, sadness and success. I was proud of the manner in which both kids had conducted themselves. They overcame their failures and stuck with the hunt, regardless of the fact that money was a big factor in what they could do or not do. They experienced moments of sadness and moments of elation and all of these moments will remain imprinted in their minds forever. This is something they can never lose no matter what. They were now veteran African hunters and had both vowed to return again. Every future hunt would become more and more difficult. Every new animal more wary and dangerous.

The following day we prepared to depart and were thrilled to learn that trackers had located and recovered Ryan's impala. We spent the next four days driving over to our land that borders Kruger National Park and spent time shopping. It was a wonderful experience that brought us all closer together and allowed them to be part of a different culture and lifestyle, as well as better understand my passions and life. They had spent a couple of weeks without constant television or electronic stimulus and were entertained by conversation, simplicity and nature. They existed happily in a culture where time is not that important. They had stepped backwards in history to a lifestyle that has had little change since frontier times, and, whether they recognize it now or not, their lives have been positively changed forever.

Fredric Brown is a Valley resident and frequent contributor to the Frontiersman.