Zimbabwe Safari Part Three… Crossing Paths with a Record Book Sable!

by. David Johnson

As we welcomed each new sunrise from behind our makeshift blind, peering through the fleeting darkness as morning’s new rays bathed the African bush, the promise of another wild African adventure began to unfold. In the distant darkness the huff of lions at the bait, once a point of concern, became common and almost welcomed. As the light chased the darkness, the night hunters moved into the shadows for a day long nap. With the coast clear, we moved forward and inspected the bait. Again no hyena tracks only lion. With two Hyena tags burning a hole in my safari pants, I became resigned to the fact that it was time to change our strategy.

Leaving the bait, Darren and I return to the trail. Our trackers waiting in the distance, are trained to bring the safari vehicle either at the sound of a rifle shot or 15 minutes after sun up. Stowing our gear in the fully supplied Toyota 4x4 we agree to make a push deep into the hills of Matetsi Unit 2 and pursue the large Sable male that eluded us the prior day.

Unit 2 can be described as a mixture of large flat pan’s with cross cut riverbeds buffered by gently rolling hills. Boarding Botswana to the west and a managed forest lands to the north, this clump of densely brushed wilderness proves excellent habitat for a myriad of species. Without fences, large herds of mixed game species roam freely across these nations borders. More importantly, MU2 is well known for holding large sable bulls. This is the key reason I’ve selected this area from all others in Africa.

Since arriving and covering many miles, we’ve seen mostly immature males, small family groups composed of females and calf’s, except for the brief sighting and unsuccessful stalk on what appeared to be an excellent bull. As the hours rolled by I starting to second guess myself, did I pick the right area? Was this the right month? Was it too dry? Noticing my concern, my PH reminded me that mature male Sable Bulls are very territorial. They can sometimes be seen traveling within a family group or more commonly out alone inspecting their range and driving out any trespassing rival males. But “they are here and haven’t gone anywhere”, Darren reassures me.

At each new game sighting, we stop and glass to assess the animals in each group. Among the occupants of our latest sighting is a lone solitary Bull Buffalo who parallels our truck but keep us in view through the thorn bush. If I were buffalo hunting, he would have been an excellent challenge. His wide deep curls and solid shinny bosses gives this duggaboy all the characteristics of a spectacular trophy. The Giraffe to our left, feeding along on the tender tops of the trees seems to care nothing about our approach. I am able to quietly exit the vehicle and walk to within 50 yards or so before even being acknowledged. Then he gracefully trots away, but not before I snap a few photos. Further down the trail, Ostrich on fully trot pace the truck then dart in front of us then disappear in the protection of the bush. The amount of game here is amazing and is truly a bonus for anyone experience.

Leaving the savanna behind, we approach the lower deep cut steam beds that run through this area. The brush and tress thicken and green up as we near. Looking about, I notice that the banks are deeply cut. This indicates that during the rainy season these gentle brooks turn into raging torrents. Large logs and debris lay far beyond the channel. Plants and brush can be seen in the branches 5 feet up in the trees that line the bank. Yet today, all is calm and peaceful, only a few inches of cool clear water passes below our vehicle. I’m glad it’s the winter dry season.

These low dense areas hold a broad yet different range of game, from waterbuck to baboon, from Impala to bushbuck. I was hoping that our Sable bull may have gotten thirsty and we could pick up his trail down here, but we are on the far end of his suspected territory so I’m not expecting much. Checking the tracks along the shoreline we note the movement of a family group of sable. On foot we decide to check this place out in earnest. A few hundred yards downstream rounding a curve, the wave of our trackers hand get’s our attention. Darren translates for me, he says we just crossed the track of a large sable bull. It could be the one we are looking for. We inspect the track and plot a course to intercept. But first we must prepare.

Back to the truck, we load up our packs with water and essentials. One never knows how long something like this is going to take or what we may run into. For example, about a half mile into our stalk, to our total surprise in the trail ahead a 7 foot Mozambique Spitting Cobra rises to make our acquaintance. A quick but well placed shot, drops the snake and clears our path forward. A bite from this guy could really put a damper on anyone’s day. Further ahead our trackers kill two Puff Adder’s who refused to move off the trail. No Black Mamba and I couldn’t be happier. They are really the only snake in Africa that gives me serious concern.

With our snake challenges hopefully behind us, we forge ahead deeper into the bush. Following these wandering trails carved deep into the soil remind me of Midwestern deer trails back home. These well used game trails give us the advantage of tracking and traveling more efficiently. Within an hour, we bump a small group of Kudu which are off like flagging whitetail. This prompts us to slow down and watch each step. Our sable bull won’t hang around long if he hears us coming. Over the next rise, a small meadow of yellow grass provides a clear backdrop for the dark black shape casually feeding near its center. His jet black coat, tan marking and large curved, nearly full circle horns identify him as our Sable Bull. Looking him over quickly yet carefully for size and horn damage, eases our concerns yet heightens our excitement. The moment of truth comes when your PH sets up his shooting sticks and gives you the green light to make your shot. For me the next few minutes are often a blur. The rifle comes up, the crosshairs find their mark, the safety comes off and I just start to squeeze while fighting the rush to just shoot and get it over with. Once the 338 barks and pushes me back, I strain to listen for the telltale “Whack” of a bullet hitting something thick and solid. There it is, and off goes the Sable. Wheeling around and into the wall of grass he goes, faster than I can even contemplate a follow up shot. The 225 Grain Barnes Triple Shock should have caught the bull in the left front of the chest since he was nearly facing me but angling a bit right. We trot to the location of the impact and look for sign. Surprisingly we only find a little blood. A drop on this blade a few more several feet further a few more beyond that. We continue to follow each drop with growing concern that the shot may have been off its mark and possibly less than fatal.

This is a trophy hunter’s worst nightmare. In Africa, if you shoot at game and blood is found yet the animal is not recovered, your fee is due and payable as if it were found. This prevents hunters from recklessly taking wounding shots at game without concern for the animal or cost.

Continuing to follow the droplets for nearly 100 yards, Darren and I simultaneously both spot a large dark shape on the ground in a small clearing 50 yards to our left. As we turn to look at each other, stony looks of concern turn into excited smiles of relief that only success can bring. Approaching carefully to ensure this 500 pound king of the antelope species isn’t playing dead, we circle around to the rear. The bull looked big from a distance but he kept getting bigger as we approach. No ground shrinkage with this brute. Darren’s excitement surprised me a bit. With his 11 years of hunting experience in MU2 I was sure he would take this bull in stride. I expected to hear, “it’s a good bull, very typical for MU2”. But once his tape measure came out of his pocket, I new something was up. Darren explained that the record for the area was 46 inches per side, his carefully measured total was 44 inches per side. Just two short inches of the record. Over 104 inches overall, clearly meeting all requirements for the SCI record book. A truly amazing animal.

The rest of this day ends just like all other successful day afield, with photos, smiles and a sense of accomplishing something extraordinary. My personal thanks to Darren and my two trackers, who without their keen hunting and tracking skills this day would not have been likely. With three days left and a few tags to fill, this trip is really turning out well. I wonder what tomorrow will bring. I can’t wait.