Dankie

“Dankie,” South Africa

The hunt was successful, by anyone’s standards. I took six animals, on a 16-day hunt. As usual, everyone was great. Mynhard’s friend, Deon, asked me to take a springbok from a ranch to feed a family that lived there.

The first trophy animal I took was a gemsbok that measured over 40 inches. The last, 14 days later, was a nyala, between 29 and 30 inches. Both were taken with the Freedom Arms .454. Using my .308 T. C. Encore, I took a steenbok, a white blesbok, and a red hartebeest, as well as the springbok. According to Safari Club International (SCI) all but the meat animal should score high. The springbok was taken with the Encore at 300 meters and the nyala at under 35 yards. The areas that we hunted were the Karoo, the Eastern Cape, and Natal/Zulu Land.

This was my second hunt with John X Safaris. Rick and Sue Van Zyl, the owners, did everything necessary to make my stay an exceptional African experience. I had requested of John X Safaris that Mynhard Herholdt be my Professional Hunter (PH). He had opened his own safari company but set his work aside and did a great job for me. Gary Strasser, the booking agent for Northwood’s Adventures, has arranged three hunts for my friends and me. Two of them to hunt South Africa and one to west Texas to hunt for mountain lion and is in the process of arranging the fourth.

I am going back to South Africa once again. It does get into your blood.

Two years ago, when this hunt was being arranged, it seemed as if the starting date was years away. But the last weekend is here, and it’s going fast. A visit with some friends from Hawaii, dinner with my folks, and Monday morning is here. I am leaving for South Africa in a few short hours. My trip will take me from San Jose, California, to Los Angeles and then to Heathrow in England and on to Johannesburg. My final destination is Bloemfontein. When someone tells you that getting there is half the fun, don’t you believe them. Two days of travel and 23.5 hours in the air, the getting there was done. Boy, was I beat.

July 12^th, 2001-First full day in Africa

My PH, Mynhard, was away with two hunters and will be returning late today. We will start my hunt on the 13^th. Deon, the man who picked me up at the airport yesterday, was going out to a ranch that Mynhard owns a part of. Deon asked me if I wanted to go along and take some photos of the animals on the ranch. The chances of getting some great photos were good, as the ranch has not been hunted for the last two years and won’t for at least five more years. The owners want to create a real African experience for their clients. After the photo session, “we will have a barbeque in a spot you will like,” I was told.

We drove out to the ranch from the lodge in Vanderkloof. The drive was just under an hour and was pleasant, with lots of game in the field. Went through three rolls of film in short order and then the surprise. A springbok is taken each month for food.

Deon asked, “Do you want to take him?”

He did not have to ask me twice. In short order, we spotted a nice young animal at about 225 yards. I took a solid rest, aimed just above his back, and slowly eased back on the trigger. Big mistake. The bullet hit just above his back. I had not shot the Encore at that distance and did not know what to expect. After finding another springbok, I tried again, doing the same thing, and got the same results. This was getting interesting. Was I wrong in not bringing a rifle? Deon asked where I was aiming, as he has a .308 rifle.

I told him, “Just over the back.”

He suggested that I “put some meat on the bullet, and put the cross hairs where you want the bullet to go.” In a short time, we had a springbok in front of us, and I had gotten into a solid rest. Thinking of what Deon said, I placed the cross hairs on the animal’s shoulder and squeezed the trigger.

Deon’s response: “He’s down.” This was going to be an interesting hunt. While the springbok was not in the trophy class, he will hold a special place for me in the history of my hunts.

As the day wound down, we went to a spot above the farmhouse where an area had been set aside for “the barbeque”. It was high on a hill, overlooking the lake. A large flat plain stretched out between where we were and the lake. As the fire burnt itself down and the embers reached the cooking stage, we placed the meat on the fire. We need not say what was on the menu, but it was really fresh.

Back to the lodge, a few drinks, a friendly pool game, dinner, and to bed.

What awaits me in the next 16 days, as my second African hunt begins?

We made a list of trophy animals that could be taken with my handguns. Now, this was a loose list at best, as some of the animals would not be available, or in the size that I want, and others may just not show up. But this was the list: nyala, blesbok, lynx, steenbok, black springbok, gemsbok, cape bushbuck, impala, and a warthog. The first three were my holy grail; the others were input from the professional hunters. It would be interesting to see if the list played any importance at the end of the hunt.

July 13^th, 2001-My first day of hunting

I was awake when the alarm went off at 5:00 a.m. A little earlier then necessary, but I hate to be rushed in the morning.

Went through my normal morning routine, laying out the things that would be needed for my hunt. Two of the most important were my Freedom Arms .454 and the ammo for it. Today, we were going near a town named Luckhoff, to hunt a ranch for gemsbok. My last trip started with a trophy gemsbok, and it turned out to be a great hunt. Taking a gemsbok might be a good sign for this hunt.

My PH drove up at a quarter after six. I loaded up, and we were off.

We arrived in Luckhoff, to meet the owner of the ranch that we were going to hunt. He was a pleasant man by the name of W. F. Bloom. After a round of handshakes and greetings, he invited us for a cup of coffee and Rusk. Rusk was something that I grew to like. It is a hard sweet biscuit that you dip in coffee. After briefly discussing what I was looking for, we drove out to one of his ranches about a half hour away. Mr. Bloom and two of his children were going along to show us the general area where we might find what I was looking for. Also I think they were curious about my handgun. The road that led to the ranch went over a ridge. I could see why we would need help in finding anything on it. The ranch spread out to the horizon.

After driving around the ranch for a while, Mynhard spotted some gemsbok up a canyon. Before we could glass them, they had moved off. Mr. Bloom told us that there were a couple of animals, similar to what we were looking for, on top of the mountain that the canyon led to. We looked at each other and jumped off the truck. It was worth the hike. We spent the next hour following them and, yes, there were several animals that would meet my requirements. The problem was the wind. We would start a stalk, the wind would shift, and then we would need to back off and try from another direction. This game went on for an hour or so. Then the wind shifted, from us to the gemsbok. Needless to say, they were gone. No way to get a shot on those animals today.

We made our way back to the truck and were told that a large herd of gemsbok had just passed. Back into the truck, a short drive, and the gemsbuck were there. A herd of about 30 animals. They all looked big. I found out that all of the animals in Africa looked big. You really need to let your PH pick out your trophy, and then you do the shooting. Mynhard glassed the animals for a while, and then we jumped out and started a low walk towards them. It took about a half hour to get into position, but the one we wanted was never in the clear. I was worried that the 300-grain bullet would pass through the animal and hit another one. Not something I wanted to do. I have never recovered a bullet. All of them had passed through the animals I shot. At last, the one we wanted was in the clear but was facing directly away from us. Not the shot I wanted. After waiting a while, Mynhard made a low sound, loud enough for the animals to hear. Several turned to see what had made the noise. Most importantly, the one I wanted turned. I had a perfectly broadside shot. Earlier, Mynhard had told me to keep my shot on the bottom third of the animal. I was in a solid, seated position when I was given the go-ahead. At my shot, the gemsbok dropped to the ground. The others ran about 100 yards away and stopped. My shot had hit right where I wanted, but the animal was trying to get up and follow the herd. Mynhard said, “He is dead, but place a second shot to finish him.”

That’s just what I did, and I had my first trophy for this trip. Neither bullet passed through the animal. African game is tough. After some photos, handshakes, and pats on the back, we loaded him into the truck and headed back to the lodge. At dinner that evening, I was told that the gemsbok was the number five place animal for handgun hunting. (SCI) Not a bad way to start my trip.

I am off to bed to dream of the days ahead.

The second day

Today, when the alarm went off, I was still asleep. I must be relaxing. Last night, we had decided to try to take a steenbok. Now, I have friends that own dogs and cats that are larger than a steenbok, but let’s give it a try. We reached the ranch we were to hunt that day about 7:00 a.m. and started seeing them immediately. The problem was, they were showing themselves at 500 to 600 yards and only when they were running. Steenbok love to run and are good at it. The morning went by with the animals busting out at 500 yards and not stopping until they reached Namibia.

I was waiting for Mynhard to say, “Why didn’t you bring a rifle, stupid?” Instead he said, “We will do better in the afternoon.”

After a nice lunch, a bit of a rest at the lodge, and we are back on the road for the afternoon hunt. This afternoon, we have brought two trackers to assist us. To show you how good these men were, I spotted a steenbok out around 400 yards and pointed proudly at my sighting. The younger one of the two told me “that it was a way.” I know it was a way. It was 400 yards away. Mynhard laughs and tells me that “a way is a female and we were after males.” At 400 yards, these guys could tell a boy from a girl. They were that good. That is the way the day went.

Then, just before dark, a steenbok jumped up in front of the truck, ran about 20 yards, and stopped broadside in front of me.

Everyone said, “Shoot,” at once, and the Encore came on target. Like magic, the bullet flew forward, and I had my smallest trophy taken in two trips. When I say “small,” it was only small in overall size. Its horns are six inches long. According to SCI, it turned out to be the number seven steenbok taken with a handgun. Let me tell you, that’s not small.

May God forgive me, but I am not sorry I pulled the trigger on this animal. It is beautiful. Mynhard, thanks for the confidence.

On the drive back to the lodge that evening, Mynhard asked if we could take the next day off as we were going to be gone for two weeks. He wanted to spend the day with his wife, Francis, and their 8-month-old son, Kotie. He said the four of us could go to the ranch and spend a leisurely day.

Sunday, July 15^th, 2001

The day went just as Mynhard had said he wanted it to go. Slept in this morning, had a casual breakfast, then drove out to the ranch. Lots of photos, and of course more food. All in all, we had a relaxing day. The only problem was, two of the three dogs we brought with us did not show up when we were ready to leave.

July 16^th, 2001

I did not wake up until 7:30 a.m. and that is late, even for back home. I must be getting into the vacation thing.

After breakfast, we took off for a ranch about an hour away, and yes, the dogs had returned. This is the largest farm that we have visited. I am not sure of its size, but it just goes on and on.

This farm has been in the same family from 1929 to the present. I had a chance to talk to the owner’s son, a 14-year-old, and I can see that the land will pass on to one more generation. We are here to try for a black springbok I was told that we would try and get a red hartebeest, first. The red hartebeest are moving all the time and that the best way to get one is to set up an ambush. Mynhard and I set up in an area that we could see for several hundred yards and waited. Within the next hour, several groups of hartebeest passed, but none in the size we wanted. Then twelve to fifteen animals passed within several hundred yards. Two of the males were fighting. There was a larger, more mature male fighting a younger, but almost equal in size, male. Mynhard said that the older male was really good, and if they got into range to take him. With my back resting against a tree and the Encore braced on my knees, I waited. The herd, including the two males, continued moving closer. When they got within 100 yards, I rested the cross hairs of my scope on the older bull’s shoulder and squeezed the trigger. At the sound of my shot, the bull fell to the ground. The others were heading over the horizon. I am sure that I saw the younger bull wave as he departed.

The red hartebeest that I took is over 22 inches long and a great addition to my trophy room (SCI #14).

We tried to get a black springbok later in the day, but I did not have a solid rest and blew the shot. As the day drew to a close, the owner of the ranch, Vincent, told me he was sorry that I had such bad luck. My reply was that the red hartebeest had not jumped out of the truck, so the day was not that bad.

Tomorrow, July 17^th,will be a travel day. We will be leaving Vanderkloof and driving to Sidbury in the Eastern Cape.

July 17^th, 2001

The drive to Sidbury was uneventful, if you think seeing miles after miles of beautiful country loaded with large numbers of animals and birds uneventful. Even the normal livestock take on a special meaning in this country.

We arrived at the Hill Side Lodge at 8:00 p.m., just in time for dinner. The Hill Side Lodge is located on a large ranch and has a front gate similar to the one in the movie “Jurassic Park.” After the necessary introductions, we sat down to a delicious dinner. After dinner, a few brandies, and off to bed.

Now, you need to know that I have yet to pay a single cent, besides the deposit. The people that own the farms trust you. It’s also true that I am a long way from home and that I could work off any bill that I may have at a few hundred Rand a month. That might take the next 25 years. Better to cut the check.

I asked Mynhard to take the next morning off, as the drive was long.

One strange thing was that a couple that I had been introduced to, Jim and Tina Maria from California, were people that I had talked to before. I had tried to book a hunt with Arrow 5 Outfitters, their company, but they did not have an opening when I needed to do the hunt. Went to west Texas to hunt lion instead. Had to travel half way around the world to meet them. Nice people.

July 18^th, 2001

Mynhard and I slept in the next morning. When we did get up, we had a very relaxing breakfast with some of the non-hunting guests, then left to go out on the Hill Side ranch. We saw a lot of animals, but nothing that we wanted. We drove off the ranch on the backside to a place that Mynhard had previously hunted.

After talking with the owner, we drove to the thickest area you could find. We were after cape bushbuck. The cape bushbuck does not move a lot during the day, so our only chance to see one would be at sundown. We walked along a ridge overlooking a vast valley trying to spot any movement below. To make a long story short, we saw five bushbuck: two after dark in our headlights, and the other three for a split second moving through a small clearing about the size of my living room. It did not seem like a lot of land on which to base an African hunt. We might try bushbuck again, but not this trip.

July 19^th, 2001

I was up at 3:30 a.m. today, as we need to pick up a handler and his dogs. We will be going after a lynx.

After picking up the man and his dogs, we drove in the darkness for about an hour. The handler indicated to us that we were at the right spot, and we left him off. He and his dogs slipped into the brush and disappeared almost immediately. We drove to the pick up area and parked. It was still very early, so we slept another hour.

Once we woke, the day was beautiful. I took several photos of the area. As time passed, the early morning turned into late morning. Our handler came out, but no cat. We decided to call it a day and went into Grahamstown for some sightseeing and general relaxing.

As the lunch hour approached, we went to a pub named the “Rat and Parrot”. This pub was partially owned by Johan Dreyer, a PH that I had met on my last trip. He, Mynhard, and I had a relaxing lunch.

At the end of the lunch, he asked me, “Did you bring your guns today?”

Well, of course I did. I had not realized that he told Mynhard where a large white blesbok was. Johan had told Mynhard that there was a very large white blesbok on one of the ranches he managed. There was a chance that if we could take him, the blesbok could be number one in the world. Mynhard asked me if I wanted a shot at him, and I am sure that he knew the answer before he asked the question. The three of us loaded up and headed out of Grahamstown and into the surrounding hills. Within an hour, we pulled into the ranch that Johan had mentioned. A short talk with some of the people that live on the property, and then out onto the ranch we went.

We drove around for a half hour or so, before seeing them. When we finally saw them, I was amazed at how beautiful they were. When we started our stalk, we were low-walking, then crawling, then onto our bellies. I think I found every thorn and sharp rock in South Africa on that stalk. We spent around a half hour on the ground before a blesbok, that we did not see, spotted us and sounded a warning. They were gone. We regrouped with Johan and his tracker and spent a short time trying to figure out where they went. This is a really large ranch, so they could have gone anywhere. We were driving down a canyon, when Johan’s tracker pointed out the blesbok. They were right back where we tried stalking them originally. We tried getting into position, but they were on super alert status. Mynhard told me the only way we would get a shot is if we set up an ambush. The blesbok were moving around, and our only hope was to be in a place where they would pass. Mynhard picked out a spot where we could have an area of view where there was a good chance of them passing. We set up on our bellies and waited. As time went by, several animals passed, but not the one we wanted.

Just before dark, Mynhard looked over my back and said, “Don’t move,” and then, “they are just behind us.”

He told me to stay on my belly and to slowly turn around, keeping the Encore in front of me. After doing what I was told, I saw about 30 animals and they were very nervous. Mynhard told me that the one I wanted was in the group on the right, but I could not see him. I did see a large, regular blesbok, but that was not the one. When I saw the one Mynhard wanted me to take, he was moving away. While not running, he was not wasting any time. Then, for some reason, the blesbok turned to his right and walked slowly in front of me at about 125 yards. I followed his movements with the Encore. When the gun went off, it was almost a surprise. The white blesbok went down at once. My shot had hit him just behind the heart and was gone before he hit the ground. When we returned to the lodge, I was told that he was a solid number two in the record books (SCI). Sometimes, it’s better to be lucky than good.

Tomorrow, we will try for a lynx once again.

July 20^th, 2001

To say the least, today was interesting. First thing this morning, we went to a ranch on the road to Port Arthur. It is a very rugged ranch, hilly, and heavily forested. When I was introduced to the owner, Jeff. I was greeted with a hardy handshake and a wide warm smile.

The plan of the day was to let the handler take the dogs into the brush, and we would stay in the truck and try to stay abreast of them. We had no way of knowing exactly where the handler and the dogs were, as the dogs do not bark until they have a lynx treed. So, we moved often to stay ahead of where we thought they were.

We had driven to a spot high on a hill, when Jeff saw my camera. He asked me if I would like to see a very unusual rock formation. Of course, I said yes. I grabbed my camera, and Jeff, Mynhard, and I took off. We walked for a short time and came into a clearing overlooking a large valley. The clearing was a rock formation, as old as time itself. The rocks were worn and gray, a color that only time could produce.

After several photos, we sat on the rocks enjoying the solitude.

Then, Mynhard asked, “Did you hear that?” I had heard a low, growling noise but thought someone was hungry and that a tummy was making the noise, and stated that. Mynhard said, “No, listen.” We listened and heard the noise, again. It was coming from a hole in the rocks, just a few inches to the left of Mynhard. Jeff took a long stick and stuck it into the hole. He was answered with a growl and the end of the stick being swatted. We had an animal in the ground next to where we were seated. We spent the next two hours trying to dig him out, and just plain trying to prod him out. We filled the enlarged hole with brush and set it on fire, trying to smoke out the animal. We even had some baboons barking across the valley from the smoke, but no luck. At one time, two of the men were in the hole up to their shoulders and digging.

I asked, “How big is a lynx?”

The answer was, “Why?”

I pointed out to Jeff and Mynhard that if that cat came out when they were in the hole, we would have one interesting time. I was sure that the cat would take its revenge on the two of them. As Jeff and Mynhard looked at each other, I think a common thought passed between them. They both got out of the hole immediately. We decided that we were not going to get that cat out. Period.

We returned to the truck and called it a day. Jeff told me that he felt that we had a mature lynx in the ground and that he would come out late that night and would never use that hole as a den again.

We drove into Grahamstown for a late lunch at the Rat and Parrot and decided to take the rest of the day off. We would be leaving for the Natal/Zulu Land in the morning.

My hunt for nyala is about to begin.

July 21^st, 2001

Today, after a casual breakfast, we left for the Natal/Zulu Land. We were on our way to hunt for nyala. While I had never seen one except in a photo, I knew that this would be my number one trophy. We were going to spend the next day and a half getting to an area that held trophy nyala. The ranch at Sidbury had nyala but not in the size that Zulu Land had.

Rick had told Mynhard, after dinner a few nights ago, to drive me there and he would fly me back and that Mynhard could meet his next hunters. This was not in my contract and was a pure bonus.

When we took off for Zulu Land, I was full of anticipation in seeing a new area. What I did see was foreign to me. We passed through an area that took nearly a day of travel. That area had been turned over to the locals to be under their government. It is called the “Trans Kai.” I was shocked. I have seen places that had been used badly before, but nothing like this. We saw over 500 cars burnt out and rusting next to the highway (N-2). Later, I found out that they were probably stolen cars that had been chopped and when their parts were sold they were turned over and burned. The area was a complete disappointment from what I have previously seen of Africa. Grass fires burning, and no one trying to put them out. There were no trees or wild game, only livestock and people that were living in huts that were very poor. They did not seem able to take care of themselves.

I was happy when we passed from the Trans Kai and into the Natal. I passed into the Africa that I am growing to know. Something should be done, but the people that I have talked to tell me that the locals do not want help. They only want to be left alone. I find that hard to believe.

We spent the night in Mount Currie and left the next morning for our new hunting area.

We arrived at the Pongola Game Farm, only to be informed by the guard that we were not expected until the next day. After a short phone conversation to someone, we went onto the farm and drove to the Emkhaya camp.

This camp consisting of several small sleeping huts overlooking Pongolapoort Lake. A main open-air hut was provided for conversation and dining. There were several other buildings for the locals and the people who worked on the ranch.

Mynhard talked to Erica, the woman who ran the ranch, about our early arrival. Erica worked out everything. We were in our huts in no time, getting ready for dinner.

I have never been treated to such warm service. Our first dinner that night had not been planned, but it was excellent. It was roast beef with all the trimmings. I asked Susan, the person who was in charge of the food, as well as other things, if she had ever served wild game.

She said, “If you like it, I will prepare it.”

The dinner meals for the next four days were the local game; I could not have enjoyed it more. We had a curry warthog, nyala in a wonderful stew, impala roast, and kudu. Susan, thank you.

After dinner that night, I went to my hut. As it was a clear night, you could see millions of stars in the sky. Everything was quiet. The only sounds were the crickets, the only light was on my porch, and the stars in heaven were the limit of my sight. Anything beyond 15 yards belonged in another world and everything belonged to another time. I was completely at peace with myself.

Off to bed as the morning comes early. God, I love it here.

July 23^rd, 2001

My first day in Zulu Land. The very sound of the words brings up mysteries of Africa.

When I awoke at 5:00 a.m., I immediately noticed a change. It had gotten cold. I walked out onto my veranda; the stars of the early night were gone. The sky was overcast, and the temperature had dropped. Very unusual weather for this time of the year.

By the time we were ready to leave for the hunt, it was drizzling. As the morning progressed, the rains came down. While we did not see any nyala in the size we wanted, we did see a herd of cape buffalo. We got within 50 yards and were able to photograph them in the rain. I am very concerned about the quality of the photos, and Mynhard was concerned with our safety.

The first morning, we saw kudu, duiker, impala, reedbuck, and fresh signs of elephant. I am not noting the birds, as they’re several hundred varieties in all shapes and colors. Back to the lodge for a late breakfast and a short rest. This afternoon we will go out again.

The afternoon went similar to the morning. The nyala that we saw were in the 24- to 25-inch range, and we would pass. We were also after an exceptional warthog. I took a very nice one on my last trip, so I could be choosy. With the weather turning cold and rainy, the animals were put out of their normal routine. We did not know what to expect. There was a warthog that was in its hole. As we approached, it ran out late and right into the side of our truck. I did not get a photo, but it would have been a great one with the surprised look on his face.

July 24^th, 2001

Today started off like yesterday. Up at 5:00 a.m., some coffee and Rusk, and back on the road by 6:00 a.m.

We returned to the same area, driving around, hoping to see an animal in the size I wanted, then stalk him. We were seeing lots of game, just none in the size or type we were looking for. We did see an exceptionally large kudu. It actually got Mynhard excited and, for a short time, was considering trying to take him for himself. After looking at him for several minutes, Mynhard passed, as this was my hunt. From what I could see, this animal’s horns were at least 57 inches long.

The morning ended with us going back to the lodge. Enjoyed some lunch and a short rest, then back into the field. About 4:30 in the afternoon, we spotted a herd of 10 to 12 animals with a large bull. Mynhard glassed them for several minutes, and, as he has done before, signaled the driver to move on. We drove down the trail about 400 yards, then he had the driver stop.

Very quietly, he said, “Grab the .454, and let’s go.” I was surprised, but off I went. We low-walked for 200 yards or so. Then he said, “Follow me.”

At that, he got down on his hands and knees. My knees were still hurting from the stalk on the white blesbok, and I really did not want to do that again. I clenched my teeth, and down on my knees I went. Instant pain. To top everything off, I had left my gloves in the truck. Smart. We went about 50 yards and set up. The other animals were passing by 30 yards in front of us, but the big bull never showed. Down on our hands and knees, we went another 50 or 60 yards and set up once again. The big bull was there, this time, but there was a ton of brush between him and us. No shot there.

Once the bull moved on, Mynhard whispered to me, “Let’s go.”

I am afraid I told him, “I don’t think I can go any more. My knees are hurting too much.” He whispered, “Just another 10 to 15 yards.” That short distance turned into over 200 yards. When we set up again, Mynhard said, quietly, “Stand up, and he should be right in front of you.”

Taking a deep breath and raising slowly to my feet, I saw the nyala. That great bull was about 35 yards in front me. I raised and cocked the .454 and placed the cross hairs on its shoulder. Slowly, I squeezed the trigger. As the gun jumped in my hand, the bull went down. For 10 to 15 seconds, nothing happened. The other animals stood still and just looked around. Then, all hell broke loose. We had nyala going in every direction. Mynhard and I ran up to my trophy. Because of my sore knees, Mynhard got there first. He stood, looking at that animal, not saying a word. I realized that I might have done something beyond my grasp. Quietly, I walked away.

After 10 minutes or so, Mynhard took a deep breath and said, “What a magnificent animal,” then, “I think we have taken one big nyala.” (SCI #4)

Both horns were over 29 inches long. The longest is 29-7/8 inches.

As he reached for my hand, he said, “Ron, if I could give you a medal, I would. There are not many men 62 years old that could do what you did tonight.”

I was glad it was dark by this time, because my eyes got teary on hearing that praise. I can only thank God for creating such a beautiful animal and to Mynhard for pushing me on.

“Dankie,” South Africa.

As a side note, while waiting for the trackers to load my nyala in the truck, I spotted a bottle in the ground. When it would not come out easily, I got after it with my pocketknife. Once I picked it out of the ground, it was too dark to tell what it was. I tossed it on the floorboards of the truck for a ride back to the lodge. In the morning, I washed it off and discovered it was a Pepsi bottle made in Johannesburg. Later, I showed it to Rick and Sue at the Hill Side Lodge. I was told that “Pepsi had never caught on in South Africa” and that “Pepsi had not been bottled since the 1950’s.” That old Pepsi bottle is sitting on the back bar at the lodge in Sidbury.

The last days at Pongola

We spent the last two days at the Pongola Game Ranch hunting for a large warthog, with no luck. The weather had stayed bad, and the animals were out of their normal routine. Truthfully, I did not want to hunt hard. When the hunt was over, Mynhard took me to Durban so I could fly back to Port Elizabeth.

Once at the Eastern Cape, I spent my time sleeping in and doing game drives for photos. During one of my last days in Africa, I went shopping with Rick and Sue in Port Elizabeth.

The time came for me to return to California. I enjoyed this vacation in the company of very pleasant people and seeing unusual sights. All in all, I had a great adventure and am truly looking forward to returning once again.

Ron Machado

July 2001

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