Good hunting partners are not that easy to find! I have learned that by experience. The type hunter that you can share each segment of a hunt with and no matter who does the shooting each one still senses that they are part of the event themselves. Put this together with African professional hunters that have earned your trust, and that you have shared many hunts and campfires with, and all the necessary ingredients are there for an “African experience” that builds memories for a lifetime.
Even as one hunt draws to an end the planning has already begun for the next one, at least in your mind anyway, with the inevitable discussion of what to hunt next. Jim, a friend and hunting partner, as described above, and I have for several years hunted together, developed favorite loads, and discussed most of life’s never ending challenges. We’ve hunted Africa, taking our wives who enjoy the adventure as much as we do. We have enjoyed the evenings around the fire, laughter and hunting experiences. It doesn’t get much better this side of heaven.
It seemed the conversation around every hunt was the dream and unending quest for the majestic kudu. I had taken a nice trophy in 2004 after two years of strenuous effort. Year three had been the charm. It was a beautiful bull and the first game animal taken with a recently acquired Merkel 470 Nitro express double rifle. There were numerous days of practice as Jim and I did imaginary hunts shooting off hand, rapidly attempting to reload and follow-up. It was exhilarating even on these “pretend hunts”. New firearms, load research and development, equipment acquisition and evaluation, getting ready to once again enjoy the “African Experience.”
Our trip of 2004 had exceeded expectations. We hunted the bushveld near Thabazimbi, South Africa; Jim had taken a fine warthog boar with a customized Ruger pistol in 45 long Colt, along with a nice Impala Ram using a Ruger #1 in 7x57.
As in all hunting there are the rewards but then there are the frustrations. Even though I had taken the trophy kudu with the 470,in addition to an impala and warthog also with the 470 (I like overkill, and how many times can you justify a double that throws small brick projectiles into a small area?). But Jim had missed an opportunity as his bullet clipped a limb deflecting his shot. We had seen a majestic kudu bull – old and now pushed aside by younger stronger competitors. He seemed to be a tired old warrior. We saw him on opening day through the morning mist. He stepped out of the bush with a ghost like entrance. (He has since been named The Black Ghost of Red Bush Hill). His age has given him a black like appearance and the farm we hunted was known as “Red Bush Hill”. Since rifles had not been sighted we had to wait, it was as though he knew. We hunted for a week collecting our impala, warthog and my kudu.
Other than the deflected shot Jim hadn’t gotten another opportunity. As our time there ended, the owners of the farm who are gracious, delightful and warm people invited us to return and try again. Jim, our wives and I took one last drive through this magnificent farm to try and get a glimpse of some of the other wildlife. It was late on the last evening and just as ghostly as the first day the Black Ghost of Red Bush Hill appeared. One of our professional hunters quickly uncased his 375 and handed it to Jim. The ensuing moments seemed like an eternity. Jim at last was in position for a shot – the trigger broke the 375 roared and a cloud of dust exploded under the bull, he turned and quietly disappeared into the bush, ghostly! An unfamiliar rifle, sighted for 100 meters, with a shooting distance unknown equaled a miss and the Black Ghost walked away. We then determined to return and give it another go. This was to be our next annual African outing.
As we departed Red Bush Hill traveling to Mabula Lodge, located in the Orange Free State near the town of Ladybrand we completed the plans to return. The friendships we made with the owners of Red Bush Hill made the return trip a must and of course there was the pursuit of the black ghost. We moved to the second half of the 2004 hunt.
The second phase of our hunt in the Orange Free State was executed to perfection with wonderful meals at the conclusion of each day. There was the crackling fire as we gathered around the fireplace in Mabula Lodge, the table tastefully set and as intended the owners, a husband and wife team, made each meal an experience as we enjoyed dishes prepared from the previous day’s harvest.
Jim, after a lengthy two-day stalk collected a beautiful blue wildebeest. He completed his trio of springbok, one white and one black to add to the previous years brown one. We shot rock pigeons, which was a full day of fast lively shooting with late evening and early morning hunts for Egyptian Geese.
As always there was the sadness as our time in Africa drew to a close. Each year the friendships deepen, the conversations contain more depth and our appreciation for our hunters and hosts strengthen. We said our farewells and quickly moved our attention toward our next hunt, with sunsets and breath-taking scenery painted in our minds to keep us motivated until our return.
As Jim and I continued to plan, we moved from summer to fall – Jim experienced physical symptoms that at first appeared to be muscular, then moved to a gall bladder problem with the ultimate diagnosis of dreaded pancreatic cancer.
I watched as my friend went through surgery, painful chemo and a slow struggle to maintain everyday strength. We continue to talk about hunting and Africa with the probability of returning an impossibility. In January 2005, I attended the SCI convention in Reno, Nevada where I met author-hunter, Craig Boddington and purchased a copy of his book, “Africa Experience” which he more than willingly autographed for my friend Jim.
Jim being an avid reader devoured the book and during one of our visits talked about trying one more time for the mystical Kudu of Red Bush Hill. Jim was beginning to look ahead and seeing the value of making each day meaningful, he expressed with a degree of faith driven optimism that he might want to try again but that, of course, was out of the question with mounting medical bills and a somewhat clouded future.
Friends learning of Jim’s condition and his desire to try one more time began to contribute toward making his dream a reality. On Jim’s 55th birthday an envelope with plane fare and all expenses paid was placed in his hand. There was silence as the reality of what looked to be a real dream come true in the midst of his struggle began to sink in. There was something to look forward to; emotional was a somewhat mild understatement. Time to look ahead. Jim’s ultimate future had been decided long ago but now there was something short termed with hope!
Jim even received encouraging reports from his doctors and in April 2005, kissed his wife and boarded the plane for South Africa. Upon arrival, our now good friend and professional hunter, Roelf Jordaan and a hunter friend from 2004, professional hunter, Donn Morstat, met us. With greetings completed we drove the 3 ½ hours to Red Bush Hill, unpacked and prepared for the quest for the black Ghost.
We saw him on the first evening as he stepped out just before dark. That evening as before was not to be the day. We hunted hard for another week shooting only one warthog and one impala for camp meat. Hours were spent in blinds seeing only one young kudu bull and spying on a large bull briefly as he moved through the bushweld with a group of cows. Moving our camp to Mabula in the Orange Free State, Jim did harvest one huge eland and a trophy blesbok but the black ghost still wanders through the bushveld. The hunters were disappointed because they had worked hard on the now personal quest but hadn’t succeeded. The farm owners were more than encouraging – assuring us that we would be welcome anytime and as usual our hosts at Mabula, where we completed the hunt, supplied a splendid African atmosphere, it is a home away from home.
Jim and I returned without the black ghost but with new hope. Jim had actually gained weight while I contracted a tick fever – go figure! He is not cured, and I’m uncertain as to future hunts with this splendid hunting partner but one thing is for sure – The hunt is not about the kill, but about life, relationships, trying for a goal, and memories around the dying embers of the evening fire. There is hope for tomorrow – we’ve learned valuable lessons, deepened friendships and secured lasting memories as we searched for the Black Ghost of Red Bush Hill. The black ghost has provided a pivotal point for teaching, teaching about life, its uncertainty, its unpredictability and knowing the best part of the hunt is the people you hunt with. This is not all there is ….the Black Ghost of Red Bush Hill waits for our return.
Phil Swearengin owns and operates Juistzoo Hunting Safaris with professional hunter Roelf Jordaan.
www.juistzoosafaris.com
