The following is an account of true events, as experienced by the characters herein created. Some aspects have been added for dramatic effect, but the storyline remains true to factual statements of witness accounts.
The first day of the epic Buffalo Hunt, could be classified as an example of typical African weather. The hunt had taken the party to Thabazimbi in the Limpopo Province, South Africa. It had been humid, hot and the air was rife with the scent of all the beautiful and abundant wildlife of the African Bush. As was normal for early February, the skies above were populated by thick cumulus thunder clouds, filling the large expanse of sky with a general purple hue.
There, amidst 75 000 acres of hunting area, is where Natasha heard her quarry might be roaming. Natasha, who hailed from Denmark, had been preparing for the safari her entire life. Natasha climbed out of the Land Cruiser in which the hunting party had been travelling to the hunting area and the moment her feet touched the ground of the African bush, she knew that something momentous was going to happen here. She had obtained all the necessary training and experience to be classified as an acclaimed hunter. Although Natasha could be considered a lady in the best sense of the word, the usual female interests never appealed to her: she wanted a Buffalo, an old bull. She lifted her head up as to salute the African gods for giving her this opportunity, how truly blessed she felt to finally realize her dream.
As Natasha walked around the Land Cruiser to take out her most essential piece of luggage, her rifle, she was helped by the tracker, Tsunu. He was courteous, friendly and had an almost eerie look of wisdom about him. It seemed that Tsunu knew something that eluded the rest of the party. Natasha perceived him as virtually being part of the African Bush. It seemed to her that he breathed and lived the bush, carrying with him a sensory awareness of all the natural life, which could only have been passed on by generations of tracking in his family. Tsunu gave a bashful little smile and mumbled that he would see her soon, carrying her luggage to the room.
The hunting party, led by Professional Hunter and Outfitter Randy Westraadt, Landowner Outfitter from Choice Africa Safaris, gathered the rest of their gear from the vehicle and booked into the camp. Randy, an ex-military veteran from 1 Special Services Battalion, being the ultimate genteel host, showed Natasha to her quarters to freshen up and settle in. Randy talked about bad weather possibly influencing the hunt and how they were prepared for every eventuality. Little could either of them have known, the detrimental effect weather would have, in the days to come. Randy excused himself, saying that he still had a long list of preparations to take care of and that Natasha would be collected soon, because naturally, being the client and main focus, she had to be prepared and briefed as well.
After Natasha had unpacked and took a refreshing shower, the other Professional Hunter in the party, Christo Crous, came to fetch her from the room. Natasha, having hunted internationally before, knew it was time for briefing by the professionals, as well as testing their equipment and rifles. Although Natasha had experience and training, she had never hunted Buffalo before and was therefore eager for all the knowledge and preparation she could obtain from the experts. They walked to an area of the camp where their rifles could be prepared and accuracy tested. Whilst testing their rifles, Natasha noticed that Randy also carried handgun as backup in addition to his hunting rifle. Although this knowledge filled Natasha with a sense of comfort, she would only realize its pivotal importance, much later.
As Natasha lay in her bed the night before the hunt was to commence, she thought of all that she had accomplished thus far and how much this actual hunt had been anticipated. Natasha had become so familiar with all there is to know about the Cape Buffalo (Syncerus caffer), she could almost be called an expert. In keeping true to the practice of an avid hunter, almost similar to a predator, she studied her quest and completely devoured all the information and accounts she could find, regarding the perfect Buffalo. She knew that the Buffalo had to be an old bull. Being an experienced and ethical hunter, she knew that she would never aim her rifle at a lesser bull that could still procreate and form part of a breeding herd. No, it had to be a dugga boy. According to all the accounts, stories and research, Natasha had studied this particular characteristic element of the Cape Buffalo extensively. Dugga, means mud and that is where you’ll most likely find all the old and gigantic bulls. Herding in bachelor groups, these old males are ousted from the usual breeding herd, having gone past their prime breeding age, to become a band of brothers, wallowing in mud for the rest of their days. In the mud, the bachelors spend their days happily bathing, covering themselves in mud, which acts as sunscreen against the vicious African sun. Natasha could recite all of the usual characteristics and all of the behavioural notes of these unpredictable and aggressive old boys. She knew that a band of bachelor buffalo are considered aggressive because they no longer had a purpose in a breeding herd and could no longer keep up with the younger bulls and therefore, they were engaged in a struggle for their survival, every single day for the rest of their lives, which could be to up to twenty years. As Natasha’s eyes grew heavier, she remembered Randy talking her through worst case scenarios and being prepared for every eventuality. Little could Natasha have known, as she was about to fall into a deep slumber, how accurate Randy’s worst case scenario would be.
Morning broke, but it was not sunny and bright, the skies were filled with thick, brooding ominous storm clouds. The Hunting Party enjoyed breakfast and the usual morning banter contained apprehension and excitement, as should any prelude to a memorable hunt. After breakfast, they headed out to the area adjacent to the river bank, covered with waist high grass and thick shrubbery and bush. Natasha’s bull had been tracked to this area, where he reportedly had been roaming with three other dugga boys in the bachelor herd.
Approximately ten minutes into the drive, Randy noticed Tsunu looking around the vehicle as if he was looking for something. Randy asked Tsunu what he was missing. Since Professional Hunters always have a fully stocked kit, Randy was concerned at what they could have forgotten. Tsunu said that he had forgotten the shooting sticks upon which the rifles rest, when the hunter takes aim. Randy clicked his tongue, saying, no, they’re not turning back for shooting sticks, there are plenty of trees from which shooting sticks can be fashioned – they would just have to do it African Style. When the time came to proceed on foot, Tsunu jumped out of the vehicle and with his machete, started hacking away at an Acacia tree, chopping off new shooting sticks. Suddenly and with supreme veracity, a gargantuan Black Mamba appeared in front of Tsunu. Tsunu yelped and immediately Randy spotted the raised Black Mamba in front of Tsunu. Randy immediately drew his handgun and fired a cluster of shots at the Black Mamba, killing it in the process. Although the Black Mamba’s death was regrettable, the safety of the hunting party was always Randy’s number one concern. Randy holstered his weapon and received a bear hug from Tsunu in gratitude.
A very shaken up and suddenly wide awake Hunting Party started their tried and tested practice of tracking the Buffalo, working in square blocks, closing in on the prey, as if they were a pack of lions. After two hours of following tracks through thick bushy terrain, the heavens opened up and rain poured down on the party, squandering all hope of a hunt commencing. For their own safety, Randy called off the hunt, due to the adverse conditions and limited visibility. He stated vehemently that if he could not see, he could not protect. The Hunting Party retreated to the camp to regroup, enjoy a hearty dinner and share hunting tales around the campfire, all the while hoping that tomorrow would bring about the result they were all hoping for. Natasha went to bed, again going back to all she knew about Cape Buffalo in her mind and dreaming about the success she so passionately longed for.
When the Hunting Party set out on Day Two, the ground was positively soaked and soggy from constant rain through the night. The mood was solemn and expectations for a successful hunt, were quite low. Upon the party leaving the camp, Natasha suddenly remembered that she had forgotten her camera batteries at the camp. She remembered chucking the batteries in Randy’s backpack the previous day. Being the gracious host and outfitter, Randy stopped, jumped out of the vehicle and quickly ran back to the camp, from where they were in the parking lot, not wanting to lose precious daylight and went into his bungalow to fetch the batteries from his bag. He reached into his bag and felt the full magazine of his 9mm sidearm. He used the opportunity to refill the magazine of his 9mm sidearm, which takes 15 rounds. Having used a few rounds the previous day to shoot the Black Mamba, this action could proof to be a lifesaving action. Having run the quick errand, Randy jogged back to the vehicle and the party returned to the designated area where they had spotted tracks of the Buffalo the previous day.
As the party searched for the Buffalo, large bull tracks could be identified as those of the four bulls they were tracking, but due to the muddiness of the ground, it had been impossible to tell which tracks were fresh and which were old tracks. Randy persisted in the hunt however and after hours, they had glimpses of the Buffalo. Due to the density of the bush, though, there were mere glimpses of a horn here and a leg there. No clean shot could be made in such density. Showing the patience and persistence of a true Professional Hunter, Randy led the party through the area, following the Buffalo and waiting patiently for a clean shot for hours on end. Staying at a safe distance, the Buffalo were seen lying down in the bushes. The Hunting Party waited patiently for movement until about four that afternoon. True to the unpredictability of African nature, the wind changed at that time and the Buffalo caught the scent of the Hunting Party and moved off. Although disappointed, Randy made the call to end the day, stating that they would encounter the Buffalo for sure the next day. Randy’s words seemed prophetic and true and all in the Hunting Party felt a sense of an epic adventure in the making.
Day Three showed itself as another rain filled one. The rain was pouring down and seemingly a hunt was impossible. Randy decided, however, that the Hunting Party would go out and try, at least. The Hunting Party returned to the area where they had spotted the Buffalo the previous day. The experienced professional hunters, Randy and Christo, along with Tsunu, knew that there was no way in which tracks could be discerned in the torrential downpour. Randy decided that the Hunting Party would move downwind and be as loud as possible, stepping on branches and being purposely audible to the Buffalo. Although this seemed in contrast to hunting in the usual sense, the idea was for the Buffalo to hear the party and flee to safety. Randy and Christo both carried .470 NE and Natasha carried her favourite .375 H&H Magnum rifles. In that manner, at least, the Hunting Party would be able to find the Buffalo, since there were no tracks to work with. After having moved for almost two miles along the river bank, without any Buffalo being encountered, Randy decided that the Hunting Party should work in smaller squares across the area, moving in a zig-zag fashion through the bush, eliminating areas where the Buffalo were not seen.
Being on the verge of giving up again, the Hunting Party moved through a dense donga. These deep ditches, covered with thick bush, limit visibility. Upon exiting the donga, Randy, leading the rest, was surprised by a charging Buffalo suddenly appearing to his right, as if out of thin air. His military experience kicked in immediately, calculating the distance of the threat to about ten yards from impact, putting him right in the Buffalo’s path of wrath and that he had no chance of getting out of the way of this rogue bull. Randy’s hands tightened around his rifle, swinging the rifle towards the charging bull, firing a shot into the bull’s head, as he collided with Randy. Upon the paralyzing impact of the gigantic Buffalo, Randy’s .470 Double rifle was thrown aside and Randy was struck just below the right hip by the Buffalo’s huge head letting him crash to the ground. The bull forced his boss onto Randy hooked Randy’s body with his curved horn and threw Randy into the air as if he were a mere piece of cloth.
Randy experienced the attack as if in slow motion and at that stage felt no pain. Whilst flying through the air, he thought that this would be his end. Here, in Thabazimbi in the African Bush which he loved with such a passion, would be the end of all things for him. His stubborn survival instinct kicked in and he knew that total awareness of the situation would be his only saving grace. He knew that his sidearm would be his salvation and focused on the retaining of the sidearm. He was determined to live and his survival was imperative. Christo, being an experienced PH, fired a shot into the buffalo, which had no immediate effect on the Buffalo. Due to the thick brush, Christo could not fire any further shots, without putting Randy’s life in danger. At this stage it was Randy, the murderous bull and his 9mm Walter PPQ.
Randy was amazed at how long the attack seemed to last. The Buffalo would pin Randy down with his bosses and then would vigorously swing his head to the side, clubbing Randy in the ribs. Occasionally the curve of the horn would hook Randy and launch him into the air. The bull repeated this game plan several times, making it a relentless attack. Randy stubbornly clung to his holstered handgun preventing it from being lost upon the impacts that persisted. He knew that if he were to take the sidearm out of the holster, with the next collision from the Buffalo, his only hope of survival, the sidearm, would go flying into the bushes. Randy held on for dear life with every inch of strength he had left. His hip had been paralyzed from the initial blow of the bull and therefore, he couldn’t really stand up. With every blow from the bull, Randy turned his feet towards the bull, attempting to ward off the attack with kicks to its head. With a final thrust the bull pinned Randy against the base of a huge Marula tree. The bull kneeled down on top of Randy, pinning him with his bosses against the tree. This was the final move in the 2000 lb beast’s game plan to crush the life out of Randy. The wounded bull’s red eyes and smelly body was right in Randy’s face. Randy knew it was now or never and drew his handgun and fired shots directly into the Buffalo’s face. The impact of these shots, caused the bull to lift his head and turn it upwards which opened up the soft area below the buffalo’s ear and below the bosses. Randy used this gap and fired the rest of the magazine into this area, hitting the brain of the bull. The nightmarish ordeal came to an end as the bull fell dead.
Christo, Tsunu and Natasha ran to Randy’s side and propped him up against the tree. They assessed Randy’s condition, although Randy was full of blood, it appeared to be mostly the blood of the Buffalo. Randy was severely bruised and had what felt like a cracked or broken rib. Although Randy seemingly did not have serious injuries, they had the full medical kit in their gear, which can prove vital in dangerous game hunts. It seemed miraculous, having faced a Buffalo Bull, that he wasn’t in a more serious state. Being relieved that this situation had been handled so well, they sat down and waited for the logistical team to arrive, after having been called on the radio. Talking through the incident and how everybody experienced it. Assessing the situation, the group discussed how lucky it was that Randy had a sidearm on him as well as how fortunate it had been that he could have a fresh and full magazine as well. Randy considered his extensive and specialised military training and 26 years of experience as a Dangerous Game Professional Hunter, as critical aspects in the survival of such situations. Naturally, the Grace of God could not be forgotten, that maybe He had other plans for Randy, rather than dying at the bosses of a Buffalo. Having a second experienced backup Professional Hunter like Christo, just makes your chances of survival all the more likely. They determined that Christo’s shot helped immensely in slowing down this ferocious bull. The critical success in survival situations, is the knowledge and extensive training in the weapons that you are carrying, as well as the knowledge of handling trauma where First Aid is concerned. Another pivotal aspect is good communication with the logistical personnel at Main Camp. Randy looked up at the sky, turned his head to a break in the clouds, through which the sun shone for a brief moment. He realized again, that even though he had been an experienced and seasoned professional hunter, anything could happen in the bush and that no amount of respect could be enough for dangerous animals, specifically the Big Five. He embraced the love and respect he felt for all things wild, but on this day, specifically, for a dugga boy.
Epilogue
After a thorough check-up by a medical doctor, it was determined that Randy, although he was badly bruised, could continue with the hunt. Natasha’s quest for a dugga bull, which she so longed for, would continue on Montague Private Game Reserve. Randy is the owner of this flagship Big 4 Game Reserve, which boasts more than 20 000 acres of hunting land. Carrying with her, newly found respect, caution and experience, she successfully hunted her dugga Buffalo Bull. With Randy, The Great Buffalo Wrestler, by her side, she executed the hunt with skill, determination and, above all, respect.
The Cape buffalo is the only Big Five member that is not listed as endangered, threatened or vulnerable on the IUCN (International Union for the Conservation of Nature) Red List. It's hard to fathom how the rinderpest disease epidemic of the 1890s, wiped out all but 5% of the Cape buffalo population in Africa. However, thanks to conservation efforts by the hunting community managed to restore the numbers. Today, there are nearly a million of these magnificent bovines in the world.
