Top_Heavy's World

The trackers froze in midstride. They started to kneel and I mirrored their actions. From my knees I could see one of the most awesome animals I have ever seen. They were dark, almost black in the shade of the canopy of leaves. They were strange, the chests were huge and the back ends lesser and lower. The necks were thick, like a draft horse and the head was sleak and horse like as well. The contrast between the white facial markings and the dark body was magical. The ears were lighter, almost tan in color. Each had long sweeping horns that widened at the tips. I couldn't believe it. I was in the middle of a huge herd of over 50 sable! Bulls, cows and calves, mixed together, feeding and moving carelessly at less than 70 yards. Even with my jetlag, I knew this was special. The herd moved on, I didn't have a sable on my list yet, but I was debating harvesting one after that encounter! We rose and talked about the herd. I thought the bulls were huge, but my PH Allan explained they were yearlings and a couple of other older but immature bulls with the cows and young of the year. The best bull would have been under 18" long, a far cry from the 40" trophies taken in parts of Africa. I was amazed, what would a 40"er look like? Those horns would sweep back and almost touch the front shoulder at 40". I was getting very interested in a sable.
We continued on foot for a hour or so. We were trying to get thru this jetlag. I felt miserable, I couldn't sleep, I wasn't fully awake, my head hurt. I was not as happy as I should have been. The hours and hours and hours of plane travel and the miserable ride in the back of a small pick up truck for 4 hours had beat me to a new physical low. The walking was helping and I felt thirsty again. With prolonged hours of being awake, forced to stay upright, forced to hardly move, multiple time zones... I am not even sure what day it is....
The drive was comfortable, we had returned to the truck as I was getting a headache. Migraine headaches were my bane as a younger man. The pain is only mental, but the total lack of vision cuts a hunt short. We pulled up to an old burn. The grass was almost a foot tall now and the animals used this area heavily. I remember Allan saying something like "big land" and I just smiled. My eyes had been closed for some time and I wasn't about to open them and feel the knife cut into my head as the sunlight would surely be. "3 big land... That one is a really good bull" I still didn't know what he was talking about, what is big land? "You should shoot the bull on the left, that is a really good bull" I forced myself to sit up straight and I opened my eyes. The discomfort was more like a pocket knife stabbing me than the machete I was expecting so I tried to focus. "What should I shoot?" I whispered "That big ELAND BULL" the excitement finally gave way and he was very impressed with a large gray blob about... I don't know how far it was, I couldn't tell. "Allan, I can't see it"... "What the hell are you talking about, they are right there, at 50 yards!" He finally looked at me, I was as white as a ghost and fading fast. "You have a migraine don't you... I get those too. We will find this herd in a day or two."
My first afternoon in Africa was turning out to be a bust. My guns were shooting well, I saw a huge herd of sable, we drove up on a pair of eland bulls, one was a good shooter... I was missing Africa as I couldn't even see! "Shall we return to camp for a while?" "NO WAY", was my thought, but I just shook my head from side to side. I don't know if we stopped the Landrover or if I just slept for a while as we drove, but I remember starting to look around and my head ache was gone! We saw several different animals, monkeys, baboons, duiker, impala, warthogs. The wildlife is fantastic. The quantity, diversity and quality of animal life is overwhelming and staggering to a simple Iowa boy. We passed a couple of herds of zebra, but all were too spooky and ran as we slowed to look for a trophy. We rounded a bend in the primative 2 track road and there stood a herd of almost 20 zebra. A friend back in Iowa had given me the trophy fee for a well colored rug. He didn't care about stallion or mare, just vivid and spectacular stripes. I thought they all looked alike until I started glassing them. Most were sort of dirty looking, the white not as pronounced as some. Many had broad stripes and little character. Each had a slightly different pattern on the face and head. Some had less stipes on the ears.
I knew she was the one as soon as I looked at her. The herd was broadside to us and they had their heads turned to look right at us. I got a perfect facial look and chest look at the same time. "That is the one" I hissed as I moved the .375 onto the bonnet (hood). The windshield was folded down to allow me a perfect 80 yard shot, except for the vibration of the running motor. "Turn the truck off" I whispered as I looked thru the scope. Why we whispered, sitting in a blue landcruiser, with the engine running, is beyond me. "They will run if I do, they are about to run now, hurry up" I knew the entire hunt would be based on how well I shot here. The first shot sets the stage and gives or removes confidence to the trackers and the PH. I can shoot average or better, but with the pressure of a crowd, the head ache, my first day in Africa, a small target (she was only about 400 lbs at 80 yards). I was a little nervous. The toughness of zebras is constantly written about by bullet makers, gun reps and the popular hunters that frequent safaris. "Turn it off!" he did as I asked and they did as he said they would. I held tight to the shoulder, no wait, on the shoulder with a gun this big... she is starting to move... another is in front... not clear... not clear... follow thru, she is going to open up in about 2 strides. I put the cross hairs on her shoulder and squeezed as the leg went back. The vitals of most game in Africa, are more forward than the deer we hunt in Iowa, so I figured in front of a leg going back as opposed to a leg going forward. I knew the bullet would break both front legs if they were hit, but I was thinking like a bow hunter. BOOM! That gun is loud and the recoil is substantial when leaning into it like I was. I lost site of the mare as the herd took off. I got a pat on the shoulder from the tracker, who now was pointing over my shoulder, at the one that split from the rest of the herd. 4 men watched as the herd kept running and the mare rejoined.... I know in my heart the shot was good. How could it be? She was now over 200 yards away and back in the herd. It didn't seem right to me. "I killed her" were my first words. The trackers were running toward the spot where she split from the others. The ground was open there and dusty, any blood would be easy to spot. They tracked the single, no blood, no sign of a hit at all... "NO WAY!" was my argumentative statement when the 2 trackers and Allan got together. I knew they were saying "He missed, no sign, no blood, this guy can't shoot... they don't get any easier boss." I stepped closer and got there attention by butting into the conversation. "Send him", I pointed at the very short older man named Kefice (maybe Kefis), "to where she was standing. I don't miss" They all stood there for a second. 3 men watched me shoot at a zebra, they thought she responded to the shot, she acted hit and then acted like it was a poor hit. They all watched the entire episode from next to me. Now I was telling them they were wrong, go back to the beginning... who was this guy? Allan was young enough to humor me with out wanting to look doubting. He said something in Afrikans and the tracker ran the short distance to the original shot. He whistled almost immediately. "He found her didn't he?" was my hopeful yet confident statement.
I had hit her perfectly in midstride. She had fallen so quickly as she went behind the next mare, that no one saw her fall! She was laying about 4 feet past where I shot. The blood pattern from the pass through was very visible as they tried to figure out how they didn't see this unfold! The mood now went from gloom to celebration! I had taken my first trophy of the trip. She was spectacular to say the least. We rolled her over for examination. I had to touch her, to smell her, to feel the texture of the hair and mane. My senses were now alive with the thrill of such an experience. We paid our respect, cleard the area around her for pictures and then loaded her into the back part of the truck. I felt fantastic as we pulled into camp. I would soon be eating zebra steak and telling the story of my first trophy while on Safari. The very word gives me goosebumps.

The flesh of zebra is very lean, tight grained and flavorful. I enjoyed this one at 2 meals while in Africa.