SOUTH AFRICAN SPIRAL HORN SLAM

MEMBER SOUTH AFRICAN SPIRAL HORN SLAM

By Gayne C. Young

The author with a hard-earned “grey ghost” of a kudu.

An impressive herd of Cape buffalo encountered early in the hunt for Spiral Horns.

IT’S NOT THAT I EXPECTED THE SOUTH AFRICAN SPIRAL HORN SLAM to be easy; I just never expected it to be so action packed. During my seven-day hunt for Africa’s most beautiful horned animals, I was charged within five feet by a razor sharptusked bushpig, had my vehicle attacked by a warthog, and stood scared to death beneath a moon-sized UFO. All in all, it was a pretty normal African safari.

Four species constitute South Africa’s Spiral Horn Slam: eland, nyala, bushbuck, and kudu. For my attempt at this impressive array of antelope, I booked with Limcroma Safari owner, operator, and friend of more than a decade, Hannes Ells. Hannes assured me that his concessions in the Limpopo region held “big kudu, big eland, big nyala…”

Well, you get the picture.

KUDU

Despite its hide running the color spectrum from tawny to burnt charcoal, the kudu is known as the gray ghost. This is not due so much to mature animals being fifty shades of gray, but their seeming ability to disappear wraithlike into the African veldt. On my first day of hunting, Hannes, his cameraman and Limcroma Marketing Director, Melcom Van Staden, and I sat for several hours in a makeshift blind of camel thorn, acacia, and other brush. From this small enclosure, we saw warthog and kudu a plenty. Yes, kudu are ghost-like and difficult to spot in the brush, but as I discovered in our time in the blind, this only applies to trophy bulls. It does not apply to kudu females, juveniles, and non-trophy bulls. These are actually quite numerous and very easy to spot.

After a break for lunch in the field, we drove the concession, continuing to look for the non-invisible type of kudu. We soon found one with tall horns, a well-worn hide and bathed in dark maturity. The old bull was apparently magic, as well as a ghost, because he somehow changed the course of my bullet once I finally got a shot at him. I could blame my miss on the fact that the bull was only presenting a frontal shot through a narrow opening of thorns or on the fact that I was overly excited at seeing such a great animal on the first day, but the truth is that I missed. I’ve missed before and will undoubtedly do so again, despite all the practice in the world. Although frustrating, I’d rather miss outright than put a poor shot on an animal.

The three of us returned to the same area the following day and again found kudu plentiful. We also witnessed sounder

after sounder of warthog, fleeting impala, and scores of vervet monkeys. Nice bulls were spotted periodically throughout the day, but each was met with failed stalks, presented no clear shot or was found to be below par by Hannes. Shortly before sundown, we came across the same bull that I’d missed the day before - or so Hannes told me. I had no idea if it was or not. They all looked the same to me – big. This time the shot from my Hannes borrowed Birmingham .30-06 was true and the kudu went down. He was a marvelous old bull, with a reddish tuft of hair between his corkscrewed horns, and a great way to start my slam attempt.

BUSHBUCK, PART 1

For bushbuck, Hannes, Melcom, and I along with trackers Steven and Bob drove about thirty minutes from the lodge to a river bottom along the Limpopo River. This border between the Republic of South Africa and Botswana was thick with scrub and reeds. We spotted three crocodiles in the muddy waters and the shores were littered with bushbuck tracks. Late in the afternoon, Steven caught a glimpse of a tall bushbuck darting into a stand of reeds.

Predicting the buck would stay hidden, Hannes sent Steven and Bob to the far side of the heavy growth to try to flush the antelope towards Hannes, Melcom, and me. The skinners made a wide loop then came forward through the reeds. “Get ready,” Hannes whispered, “He’ll come out of there fast. Don’t shoot until I say though.” The tops of the eight-foot-tall reeds danced to and fro as Steven and Bob made their way through the thick. “Stay alert,” Hannes instructed just as the reeds to the left exploded with three bush pigs. Melcom turned to film the melee just as a huge boar tore through the reeds before us. He dove through the knee-tall grass and straight for Melcom. Hannes pushed me aside while screaming at the boar and thrusting his shooting sticks forward—PHs don’t normally carry a backup rifle for bushbuck. The boar changed course, not five feet from us, before disappearing into the darkness of the woods. A few moments passed before Hannes burst into laughter. “That was the biggest bush pig I’ve ever seen!” he exclaimed in sharp Afrikaans. “He’d have sliced the intestines straight outta your gut had he hit you!”

I was hit with the sudden need for a drink. Good thing the day was over. En route back to the lodge, a very large warthog burst from the side road vegetation and straight for our vehicle. Hannes gripped the wheel hard and braced for impact. The tusker nicked our left rear tire and the Cruiser lurched slightly. Again, Hannes burst into laughter, “What the hell?” He pondered, “Are all the pig species out to get us tonight?”

Where was that drink?

NYALA, SORT OF

Following our day of charges, Hannes suggested we try for nyala. Once again Hannes, Melcom, and I spent the day

Above: The author and his PH came across this white rhino while hunting nyala. Below: Limcroma’s chalets are spacious, luxurious, and private. searching heavy African veldt, but seeing little of our targeted species. Impala, warthog, and blue wildebeest were plentiful, and had I been after any of those, I would have had an easy time of it. An hour and a half before sundown, Hannes glanced a nyala bull he thought was worth a stalk. The three of us duck-walked, butt scooted, and zigzagged to within sixty yards of the nyala. The old bull meandered in and out of the low scrub, feeding on the green grasses that skirted the tree line. Hannes set up the shooting sticks to stand a mere three feet off the ground and had me ease into them while in a seated position. “Take him when you can get a clear… Wait! Wait!!” Huh? “To the right! To the right! That’s a huge eland! Much better! Shoot the eland! Shoot the eland!” I shifted to my right, found the eland just inside the tree line in my scope, and fired. The bull jumped at the shot, spun, then dropped. He was an especially old bull with an amber red tuft of hair between his horns, a heavy dewlap, and an old age weight of more than a thousand pounds. He was well worth the last second switch.

Above: Sable in the tall grass. Bottom: The author with almost 2,000 pounds of eland.

NYALA, FOR REAL THiS TiME

Day five brought a second attempt at nyala. This majestic species of the spiral horn is more wary than the others, and despite almost taking one in the open the previous night, are extremely fond of staying put in thick cover. The day was full of ostrich, wildebeest, impala, kudu females, and of course, warthog. By midafternoon, we’d cut the trail of a good ram and we’d come close to getting the shot half a dozen times. Luck finally shone on me and I got a quick running shot as he crossed between two camel thorn trees.

Despite my snapshot, my placement was good and the ram fell quickly. He was a brute with a gorgeous longhaired hide of both stripes and spots and horns measuring a whopping 28 inches.

BUSHBUCK PART 2

Our second attempt at bushbuck took place at night. Hannes got a tip from a local farmer that “very big bushbuck” were coming into his fields to eat at night. That was all Hannes needed to hear. That night Hannes, Melcom, and I sat beneath an ink black sky waiting for the feeding hour. Hunting bushbuck at night with a spotlight is perfectly legal and the preferred method in SA. That’s when it happened. A bright light appeared on the horizon. Its intense halo grew and grew in size, prompting the three of us to ask each other, “What is that?” The halo further expanded until it surpassed in size the fullest moon I’ve ever seen.

“Seriously,” I nervously choked. “What is that?”

I received no answer. Instead, we sat in silence as the evergrowing halo streaked across the sky and disappeared. In its wake, Hannes spotted a set of horns. I was still pondering the UFO when he told me to get ready to shoot. He fired the light and I caught the bushbuck in my scope. He dropped at the shot and my slam was complete. He was an incredible trophy with spiraling horns and, thanks to the UFO, one I’d never forget.

Oh, the UFO?

Turns out it was a rocket launched by Space X in the United States. It blazed an eerie trail over South Africa that caused mass concern and thousands of calls to the government from concerned witnesses. All I know is that it helped me complete my South African Spiral Horn Slam. ★