BUFFALO GUNS

Readers, I am told, never tire of either Cape buffalo or discussion of buffalo rifles and cartridges, which is a happy coincidence because neither do I.

If pressed to the wall and forced to prescribe one “best” rifle for Cape buffalo in all circumstances, it would be this: A bolt action chambered in .458 Lott or .450 Ackley, weighing no more than 10 pounds all in (loaded, with scope and sling) and with a low-powered scope in a German claw mount.

The past few years have seen many rifles come on the market purporting to be for dangerous game, and many many cartridges, factory and wildcat, but most of them leave me wondering if the designers have ever really hunted — on foot, in the hot sun, mile after mile — or chased anything bigger than a roebuck. The rifles are usually too heavy and cumbersome, or fitted with some outlandish eardrum-destroying muzzle brake, while the cartridges either rely on high velocity (a dubious faith with dangerous animals) or boast such overwhelming power that the only way they can be controlled is in a howitzer.

The .416s have enjoyed great popularity for years, especially since Ruger chambered its Model 77 in the .416 Rigby in the early ’90s, but it’s at its best with a 400-grain bullet, and I much prefer the smashing power of the .458’s 500-grain. As I mentioned in this issue’s One for the Road, I killed my first buffalo with a .416 Weatherby, it was my only one-shot kill on a buff, and it was fitted with a muzzle brake. I learned a lot from that rifle, all of which is summed up in the paragraph above.

This is a good time to answer another question from that column, regarding Duff Gifford’s .416. It was built by Rigby in London on a Brno action of the kind that had a rocking safety that worked the opposite of every other safety: On was forward, off was back. It had supposedly been converted, and what actually happened when my big bull emerged from the donga, we never quite figured out. Duff had one fleeting opportunity at a shot before the bull put me between him and Duff, but when Duff pulled the trigger it did not fire. I was on my own.

The rifle I had that day was borrowed, but it fit the above description of my ideal: It was light enough to carry comfortably for many miles, and it handled like a quail gun. This characteristic is discounted by lovers of oversized .577 wildcats, and rifles like railroad ties, but it comes in awfully handy more often than not — and when you need a rifle you can manipulate quickly, there’s no substitute.

An argument put forth in favor of heavier rifles, more powerful cartridges, and super accuracy at the expense of other qualities is that they will kill with the first shot, so you won’t need to worry about a second. Hogwash! First-shot instant kills are never guaranteed, and with Cape buffalo they happen exceedingly rarely. If that were not the case, you could make a good argument for a super-heavy, super-fast single-shot rifle, and I don’t see that happening.

In African Rifles and Cartridges, John Taylor points out that the old-time superheavyweights like the .600 Nitro Express were just too heavy for a professional hunter to carry all day. Normally, if he had a .600 or .577, a gun bearer would carry it, while the hunter himself toted something like a .450. Carrying a .600 left you so tired that if you did need to wield it in a sudden situation, you could not handle it quickly enough. If that’s the case with a 16-pound .600, imagine how you’d feel carrying a 20-pound .700 or a 23-pound 4-bore double rifle.

If you want to see how this works, find a gym with a heavy bag and do a complete workout — 15 three-minute rounds, with a minute’s rest in between — and try it with increasingly heavy dumbbells. Throwing serious punches for three minutes with even a five-pound weight leaves you like a dish rag.

Also, here’s a little object lesson in killing power. In 2004, I was up in the Kwando area of Botswana, near the Caprivi Strip. We were hunting eland, but my only rifle was a .458 Lott (when in elephant country, carry an elephant gun) and one afternoon, needing meat, I shot a duiker that was facing us about 60 yards away. The bullet tore into his chest and all but removed one shoulder and leg. That duiker spun around and dashed off, making it about 40 yards on sheer adrenalin and reaction before giving up the ghost. He was not a very big duiker — four of us devoured him in two meals — but that 500-grain bullet did not drop him where he stood.

This proves one thing: You can never absolutely depend on an instant kill, so it’s vital to pay attention to a rifle’s other qualities, such as quick handling.

A custom .450 Ackley, built for the author by gunmaker Siegfried Trillus, on an FN Supreme action. The stock is American walnut from a tree Siegfried cut down and sawed up himself. The scope is an old Swarovski 1.5x20 Nova in an instantly detachable claw mount. Altogether, loaded and with sling and scope, the rifle weighs a shade under ten pounds.