Top_Heavy's World

That was my question at lunch. Arlan had come into our part of the ranch and managed to spook the small herd we had been following for the better part of 2 1/2 days! Lunch was quiet and cold, I was not in the mood to eat much. I unloaded my equipment, bow, quiver, binocs, 2 rifles, knives, camera, everything that had been building up there over the last few days. I was dejected and in the mood to go take a nap, and try to wake up on a different day. Even the trackers were down and Allan was just numb. We pouted around the circular, thatched roof cabin for about an hour, no one sure how to get out of the funk we were in. "We could just go ride around... the trackers and fuel were payed for in my daily rates right? Let's just go and try to find something for in the morning." My idea must have hit the spot because life started to creap into my new African friends. I took only my Remington 700 in .375 H&H Mag and my camera. That is all we needed, no expectations, desires or requirements, I was in Africa on Safari, How Dare I Pout!
We drove the road towards the burns we had been walking around lately. The amount of sign was proof that huge herds of animals were eating the fresh growth. We used a different gate to enter that pasture. The ranch was once a working cattle ranch and it was cut into 4 different pastures. In the middle of the property there was a set of sorting pens and loading shoots, we used the gate that let to this area of the ranch. I hadn't been to this area, it is not a game filled area, so it is seldom seen by the hunters that visit the ranch. I am such a "People Watcher" that Allan believed I might appreciate the way the workers lived. We came to a group of stick huts, a village if you will, built to support the workers during the times of cattle movement. I couldn't believe the simple ways of these people. They had almost no modern conveniences and lived without beds, linens, common utensils or the basics that we take for granted in the US. Laundry was done in the river or the small creek that wound it's way from the lake to the river. Drinking and cooking water was from the same pool! A common fire was often used for several men to cook over and the amount of food these people lived on each day made me feel greedy. I ate more daily than a normal worker ate in 3 days.

This primative area is the lodging for almost 20 workers when the cattle are being sorted and moved.

We started back towards the burn, the trackers and I got along very well, they were not used to someone who genuinely cared about them and the way they lived, most paying hunters only want to find more animals to harvetst. In our conversations I asked again "Is there ever an easy Eland?" Allan failed to answer me at lunch so as I asked the second time I assumed the answer would be a resounding "NO". I was right, he started in on stories about people hunting for over a week to get a good shot at one, others had not gotten one at all. He was talking about how close we were and how seldom a big bull gets taken when I looked up to see a native cow. It was a long ways off, standing in the open against a bush. I noticed it but didn't think much of it as we drove on. We rounded another bend in the dirt 2 track, and the cow looked like a Brahma bull. We rounded another bend and that put us directly behind the big bull and we were driving straight at it. We got about 60 yards from the domestic bull when the lead tracker grabbed my shoulder and pointed. His excited speech caught Allan in mid sentence and he quickly stopped the truck. I actually looked at the animal in front of us and realized it was infact a Livingston Eland. Huge is an understatement, this bull was monsterous. We had a direct rear view of him and only his back legs and his dangling manhood was visible. The bull was standing with his head in a very dry bush. He was facing into the wind and the leaves were a constant rattle. I think he was using the leaves to keep any remaining bugs out of his eyes as he slept.
I couldn't beleive my fortune, I was sitting about 60 yards from a mature bull eland. "Where is my bow?" I was frantic, looking for my bow I finally realized I had left it back at camp. I laid the rifle on the bonnet, the windshield was already down, and used the scope to examine the huge buckskin colored animal. The tail was a lot like a cow from back home, a short haired main section with a tuft of hair on the end. The hips could have been from any over sized bovine, the back hams were huge. The scrodum hung larger than I remembered, I guess I never spent any time examining one, but that big dangling pouch looked like it would be perfect for the tobacco I smoked in my pipe. I was already thinking about how cool it would look on a leather cord, lined in red silk. While we sat watching, he finally lifted his head. He actually shook his head as if a fly was bothering him. That exposed his long spiral horns. Allan about dropped his binocs. "Shoot him, shoot him!" I settled into the rifle and waited, I didn't want to try a Texas Heart Shot. I don't usually shoot animals directly from the rear and I wasn't going to start on one this big. I waited. The bull shifted his massive weight to his right side. The movement exposed his rib cage on the left side and I could see the last rib on the near side. "I am going to slip the bullet over the back ham, into the flank, and that should hit the off side leg" The plan looked easy enoug, I just knew the back leg would be large enough to stop the bullet if I missed. I settled in again and squeezed the trigger. The recoil was almost unfelt, I was still able to see the massive bull as he donkey kicked and lunged through the bush. He was behind the bush and running all out, a fantastic site. The bull turned 90 degrees to the right and was coming into the open at about 80 yards when he piled up. I had just harvested the largest Eland anyone on the ranch had ever seen. We raced to the fallen beast and the awe started.