By Corinna Slaughter
Antlers and Anglers Worldwide, LLC
(205)969-2065

Every hunt has or at least should have its’ memorable moments. Our family’s hunting trip to South Africa and Namibia was filled with many such moments. The greatest was our daughter shooting her first animal, a warthog.

The second most memorable moment that sticks out in my mind was my Limpopo Bushbuck hunt. Pictures of this beautiful on the hoof animal cannot do it justice. Once you see one in person, they are almost as beautiful as a Nyala.

Our three week adventure on the African continent began in Namibia with “Old school” PH, Peter who has hunted with the great PH’s from the 1930’s. His father-in-law is Fred Bartlett who is the author of Shoot Straight and Stay Alive. Peter’s stories around the fire pit at the tent camp every night kept us entertained. My husband, Kevin, and I took six great animals including Kudu, Gemsbuck, Springbuck, Mountain Hartman’s Zebra, Red Hartebeest, and Black Wildebeest. Each animal was stalked and shot off of shooting sticks.

Next Josie (9), Kevin and I flew to Johannesburg to be met by our PH, Douw and his brother, our other PH, Bekker. The drive to our thatched roof chalet camp on the border of Botswana was four hours. Though we had already been hunting for nine days, we were anxious to see our new scenery and even more wonderful trophy animals.

Kevin and I had made our list of trophy animals that we wanted to take and drew them in lottery style before we arrived in Africa. In South Africa, we were fortunate enough to take trophy Warthogs, Nyala, Waterbuck, Impala, Blesbuck, Blue Wildebeest and Porcuppines. Also on my list was a Limpopo Bushbuck. I didn’t realize what a challenge they could be to hunt.

The concessions that we hunted for the Limpopo Bushbuck were along the Limpopo River tributaries. As my PH, Douw, and I stalked along beside the river the first day, he talked of the many times he had crossed the crocodile infested river to recover trophy bushbuck and water buck. I assumed he was kidding me and that no one in their right mind would cross a river when it was 34 degrees outside and probably 50-55 degrees in the water. As we walked and talked he pointed out the various crocodile as they slithered into the river.

Gorgeous old looming trees reached over our heads as we walked along the lush green foliage beside the river. For two days we slowly stalked beside the river looking for the one that was worth the swim if necessary. Finally, as we approached a bend in the path, Douw spotted legs on the other side of a thicket across the river. I became excited and quickly put my gun up to rest and prepared for the shot. Douw said, “Get ready but don’t shoot until I tell you it’s a shooter.”

We had had a dry run only minutes earlier when a nice 14-15 inch bushbuck presented us with a shot. Douw told me I could shoot it but that he felt we could do better. I decided to trust his experience, so I passed. Of course, as soon as I no longer had a shot, I began questioning my decision. Would I see another one that big?

Yes, as he stepped out from behind the thicket, Douw said, “Take him”. Boom, and he dropped just behind some brush. I had hit him high so we moved over to take a second killing shot. I laced it in to take my trophy. Now the work would begin. I still didn’t believe Douw would cross the river. I figured he had been teasing me and now I would see how they really retrieved these trophies.

Off came his clothes down to his shorts and he quickly began to descend the steep bank and look for his place to cross the river. As he descended a crocodile moved slowly into the water. I asked him if he wanted me to shoot a crocodile if it came after him and he said, “Don’t shoot the crocodile, shoot me instead”! I thought, “Great, here I am in a foreign country with a crazy PH who wants me to shoot him instead of the crocodile. What would I do?”

Before I could even get my camera and my gun ready, Douw dove into the water and with a few strokes, he was on the other side! I couldn’t believe it. He really did it. Next thing I knew, our tracker had a little plastic boat in the river that he planned to carry the bushbuck back across the river in.

He was too scared to swim across the river so he attempted to hand paddle across to no avail. Douw, disgusted, swam back across to pull the tracker to safety on the other side where they loaded the trophy and Douw pulled the bushbuck and the tracker back across the river. Together they carried him up the steep embankment to the truck.

I thought, “Oh, how I wish Kevin and Josie had been here to see this!” Douw had given me a memory and a trophy that I will never forget. The Limpopo bushbuck was a little over 16 inches.