CHAPTER 9 - JULY 10, 2011

The sun was illuminating the eastern horizon as we loaded our guns, checked all the equipment and quietly assumed our positions on the track of last night’s bull. After seven days of hunting, the tracking line was very predictable: David, Taylor, Sasa, Ian, and myself, followed by any other members who joined the hunting party. Sixteen would always bring up the rear and make sure everybody and everything (discarded jackets and other items) would find their way out.

It wasn’t long into the trail that I could ascertain this track was going to be a challenge. There were so many tracks of other elephants that crossed our trail that tracking became immediately difficult. Nevertheless, the team patiently tracked on, spreading out when the trail was lost, and quickly concentrating back on the trail after the trackers sorted out the details. The procession was quiet, all communication and new directions directed by hand signals and soft whistles. After two hours, I sensed growing frustration and the lack of progress on the track starting to weigh on the opportunity cost of finding new trails. Ian called a huddle with the trackers, and it was decided to abandon the trail. Simply put, there were too many elephant tracks in the area, and trying to stay on the proper track was proving to be time consuming. We knew this would be a good area given all the tracks, so we decided to return here tomorrow (on our allocated day) and resume the hunt. For the balance of the day, we would load up the lorry and head south in search of a new track.

Professional Hunter Ian Newmarch stares off a young bull at a water hole in the southern concession. Checking roads, paths and pans (water holes) is the protocol to find a track of a mature bull.

Enroute to the south, we happened upon three bulls feeding in the camelthorns. Ian turned off the truck, and the elephant fed uninterrupted 25 yards from the truck. One bull held respectable ivory, but he was a middle-aged bull, and the there was no appreciable effort from Ian and the hunting team to finish the hunt with this animal.

Arriving in the southern section, we found several tracks and once again hit the trail. Over the course of the day, we walked 15 kilometers and looked at 26 bulls. It has been said that you hunt leopard with your head, lion with your heart, buffalo with your guts, and elephant with your feet. My hunt was proving this statement true, and the total kilometers of my boot tracks was really starting to mount. Even though the land is very flat, certain sections of the trail proved challenging as there was an abundance of soft sand which impeded travel. Ironically, one tires after a long day on the elephant trail, but the excitement and opportunity of an unfinished adventure mutes the aches of tired feet and sore muscles, and leaves one ready to resume the trail at first light.

The sun slowly moved toward the western horizon, a timeless testament to the earth’s endless rotation. Colors in Africa are unique, and I observed closely over many days the soft brilliance of the sun on the beauty of Africa. Sunset magnifies creation, and one never tires of watching the slow erosion of light as the mopane forests, savannahs and all the wildlife prepare for another night. The ride back to camp was quiet. While unsaid, everybody knew that we were now eight days into the hunt with only two more remaining. Compounding the pressure was the fact that I wanted to join my family aboard a small aircraft we chartered for a sight-seeing flight scheduled for the last day, July 12, over the Okavango Delta. While I did not want to miss this opportunity, it went unsaid that should we not find the right bull tomorrow, I would be back on the Sankuyo trail while everybody else was taking pictures 500 feet above the Delta. Tomorrow we will try again.