Animal Encounters - The Buffalo

As I mentioned in an earlier blog I have never been a trophy hunter.  While spending time in the bush however I would occasionally shoot something for the “pot.” Often while in a camp with a lot of laborers the demand for meat was high. Returning to camp after a five day “R&R” at the end of the month my provisions would include a few cans of corned beef (bully beef in the local jargon), but it was pointless to try and take fresh meat.  We rarely had access to refrigeration.

In early October of 1967 I was sent to the Matetsi Safari Area, west of the town of Wankie (now Hwange) and directly north of the Hwange Game Reserve. I had to test a new portable shortwave radio antenna and update several maps showing the locations and conditions of game fences and access roads in the area.  The Matetsi Safari Area was then, and still is today, heavily populated with big and small game including elephant, Cape buffalo and black rhino.

After a long overland drive from Salisbury (now Harare) I called in to meet up with the regional Veterinary Officer, in Wankie, Chris Steyn.  He had assembled his regular team of workers who were going into the Matetsi area to repair game fences and roads. They would be showing me the way.  The area is very remote and for the most part covered with dense vegetation, acacia and Mopani trees and shrubs. Rivers and streams here are dry in the winter months (May through August) up until the rains would begin in late October. The standard 7 ft. high game fences (with 8 strands of high tension wire and 10 – 12 inch thick Mopani posts spaced at 10 meter intervals) had been erected across this region in past decades to restrict the large scale migration of elephant and buffalo into rural areas of human occupation.  Small animals, such as impala and warthog could pass through the fences easily.  Some of the larger antelope species such as kudu and sable might be momentarily impeded but would pass through the fence or jump over the 7 ft. high top wire.

Chris Steyn, as a senior Veterinary Field Officer, had the authority to shoot buffalo and elephant within 200 meters of the game fences.  This policy was intended to drive them away and be a deterrent for the animals to reduce damage to fences; something that elephant in particular could do, and often did. Buffalo, would at times get their heavy horns caught in the wire and with a sharp twisting action, would snap it.  Fence maintenance and repair was an ongoing, labor intensive and expensive job. Before setting out on the drive through the hills and over the narrow bush roads of Matetsi, Chris told me that if I should see a buffalo within sight of a game fence, I should take the opportunity to shoot it.  His laborers would welcome a supply of fresh meat. As I would come to realize later, he had also told his foreman to try and locate some buffalo for me to shoot.

We had been on site in what is called the Matetsi Game Corridor for a couple of days. One morning I was following the tractor and trailer with four or five men with me in my Land Rover. They were clearing an old road and fence line when we heard the sound of a buffalo herd running in the distance. The foreman sent a man in that direction to see if he could see any of the herd. A while later the man came running back to us and signaled to me to follow him and bring my rifle. I had a .375 magnum with me, fitted with a telescopic sight.  I didn’t especially like a telescope for these conditions, preferring an open sight instead. The sharp recoil of the .375 would jar the scope out of alignment at times. There was no time to even consider changing at that moment however.

Two men walked ahead of me for about a quarter of a mile and pointed in the direction of an open grassy “vlei.” An old, and very large, Cape buffalo bull was grazing toward us with his head down.  I began to quietly make my way toward the buffalo through waist high Mopani shrub which offered the only cover.  My two companions had fallen back and, I assumed, were taking their seats for whatever was to happen in the next few minutes.  Eventually I came to within about 50 yards of the bull, surprised that he had not heard, seen, nor smelled me and was apparently unaware of my presence.  I sat down quietly and took careful aim, with the idea of taking just one, fatal shot to the spine in his exposed neck.  What I didn’t know until later, was that my telescope had been jarred out of alignment and was shooting about 4 inches to the right at 100 yards. 

The old bull - loaded on the trailer

Within an instant of pulling the trigger, I knew the shot would not be fatal because the huge animal bucked like a rodeo bull and instantly began to run directly towards me (or should I say – us).  I snapped another round into the breach and with a clear shot at his heart, because his head was now raised as he ran, I fired again.  My second shot only had the effect of turning him sharply to his left and he lumbered across my field of sight about 20 yards away.  Operating on instinct, I fired into his lower chest just behind his shoulder, hoping to hit his heart, and instantly I saw bright red blood spew from his nostrils. I had pierced his lungs.  He continued to run at a gallop without slowing, quickly disappearing into the mopani shrub.  I remember standing there watching and having the terrible thought that “oh shit - now, I have a wounded buffalo on my hands.”

In the middle of this most intense moment of my life I turned around to see where my two guides were and saw them both about ten feet up, clinging to a tall, very thin mopani tree, and looking at me with wide eyed expressions from about 50 feet away.  I laughed out loud at the comedic sight. To their credit, they too laughed – probably with relief.

Now we still had to go after the buffalo which most hunters will tell you is the most dangerous animal to hunt when wounded.  I took a few moments to reload my rifle and we picked up the spoor. The bright red blood on the ground confirmed his wounds were mortal.  We stopped every few minutes until we heard a thumping sound. Then we saw his dark shape through the shrub bush.  One of his legs was moving up and down and a hoof was hitting the ground in what was a final reflexive movement.  It was with relief that I walked up and put a final round into the back of his neck.

There were a lot of happy men soon surrounding the carcass which had to be cut into sections to load onto the trailer for the return to camp.  Before cutting the meat into strips for salting and drying, it was weighed, piece by piece,  at over 1,500 lbs. (In his prime this old boy probably weighed 1,700 pounds or so.) We were able to find two of the bullets I had fired. During the post mortem I found that my first shot had missed the spine, but had penetrated the neck, touched the heart and lodged inside the pelvic bones. I still have this slug in a small box. The second shot had also touched the heart and lodged in the pelvic bones. The third shot which had pierced the lungs as he ran across my field of vision had passed through his body.  This was an old animal, and his worn teeth told us why he was somewhat thinner than he should have been.  He may have lost some hearing as well.  These old bulls will eventually wander farther away from their herds and fall prey to predators in the area.

The horns were big (see photo above) and I kept them in a garage or storage room for years, until eventually selling them to a merchant for a few dollars before leaving Zimbabwe 12 years later. I heard that the ground-up powder from these horns is used in traditional African medicinal remedies.

Over the 44 years since my buffalo encounter I have rarely spoken of it.  It was one of only a few occasions in my life when I found myself in a situation where I would rely on instinct, with no chance to think about my actions.  To a degree the incident reassured me of my capabilities and I gained confidence.  Under pressure I did not panic but stood my ground.  No one can predict how they will react in situations like this and I am glad I responded appropriately.

Buffalo meat, salted, cut into strips and drying.

Two bullets removed from the carcass.