By Bill Moran

Four am in the morning is grunt time. The waking up, then the pouring of coffee and the two clients trying to keep their eyes open.

"Morning" grunt.

"Want some coffee" grunt.

"Sleep well?" grunt.

Any lively idiot this time in the morning get left behind. We had done all the talking the night before; so all those that were listening know the plan for today. As quietly as possible we drive out of camp. The open motor cruises along the tracks to the chosen hunting area. The frequent stopping for crossing elephants keeps the driver awake. As we proceed through this dream like world, the dawn starts to break; the birds start their chorus and even the bodies in the motor start to twitch. The motor slows down, the engine is switched off and we free wheel to a stop. Everything is still. We sit there listening. The hunters are old timers. We all know the animals nearby will also be still with eyes alert, licking their noses and smelling the air, listening for the morning calls of birds and beast to tell them were the upright is moving.

We slowly get out of the motor, all knowing the drill. Unnecessary clothing is put away. Water bottles checked, rifles checked with three bullets under the bolt, safety on. Anyone wanting to water the bushes does so now. There is no talking, only hand signal. If it is necessary to talk then it’s in a whisper. We are all in the hunting mode.

Today we are looking for a big male lion. Over the past few days, we have been in and out of several prides of lions and we think we have tracked down a big old male that was pushed out of one of the prides. He wanders between the forest and the tall reed beds.

Two hours later and we have seen plenty of elephants, four old dogger buffalo and a number of warthog. A small group of kudu held us up for some time having to wait for them to feed out of the way. The last thing we want is warning barks from them. The odd Lowrie and hornbill are bad enough.

But no sign of lion, he must still be in the reeds. Hunting in reeds is only for the brave and stupid! We have all been reminded of the saying "We are the ones looking for trouble, so don’t complain if you find it" And if you have had adrenalin rushes before, now you will get a number of them, depending on your imagination.

The last few days have been interesting to say the least. From the outside the reed beds look like one solid block. On the inside there’s a different world. There are dongas that run for hundreds of yards, elephant pathways, hippo tunnels and open areas. Big game spend a lot of time in the reeds they feel safe in the long cool vegetation. Here it’s rare to get disturbed by man. Herds of buffalo spend their time feeding between the forest and the reeds. It was here I hunted my buffalo. We followed three old dogger bulls into the reeds very slowly. We took up their spoor rifle in hand, senses full alert. We cold hear the buffalo moving just in front of us when they stopped. We stopped. Here in the reeds the wind has a tendency to shift suddenly on you. There was a long silent stop. They often do this. Then a big black shape started to materialize through the reeds some 50m in front of us. He came to a stop. I heard this whispering voice in my ear. "Have a good look at him then take him through the shoulder". All sorts of things go through your mind at these times. Not least as to where the other two had got to, but he was a very big old buffalo and we were right here in his territory. The first shot took him right in the powerhouse and he did not even seem to move. The second shot right in the shoulder got his attention as he took off out of sight. I was aware of other sounds but all crashing off in the opposite direction. Then I heard that crash that told me my buffalo was down. Let me tell you, in here that’s a sound you are definitely hoping to hear. My buffalo had run into some thick reeds surrounded by water. We knew he was down, but was he dead? We all stood in silence listening for any signal of movement. It would not be uncommon for one of the other buffalo to come back. To get to my buffalo we had to wade waist deep in water. Little things go through your mind; crocodiles take quite a few people every year! All that vanished however when we found our buffalo lying stone dead. He was a magnificent buffalo. After taking my trophy all the meat had to be taken out on poles through waist deep water again. An interesting experience.

One day whilst out walking in some long grass, the signal to stop came. We were all looking hard but could not see anything. The whisper to stand very still put us on full alert. Then five paces in front of us a large female lion stood up with a grunt followed by seven others. The lions stood their ground grunting at us, a sort of stand off that seemed to last a little to long but was proberly a matter of several minutes. Then one of the females started to back off followed by the rest. That left us with a sort of tingling feeling. The rest of the day was enjoyable seeing animals before they see you creeping upon them getting into that interesting circle. Even when you are not hunting them all the magic is there. Early the next morning we were moving along the reeds when we spotted another big buffalo, which turned out to be for Joe. We followed him into the reeds and out on the far side into deep grass, the wind was playing tricks on us again we saw the buffalo take off for new ground. Then we were taken on a very slow walk with the wind right at our backs. We carried on like this for three or four km, then we did a crazy Ivan, turned sharp right. We were instructed to keep an eye out for the buff cutting back out of our wind, yes, there he was on our right some five hundred yards standing in two feet long grass, He was just standing there with his head up on full alert, we stayed were we were and Ken and Joe took off bent double. This is one of them great times when you have a ring side seat, you can tell your hunting buddy just where he went wrong after he gets back!

Some 70 paces from the buff they stopped. Ken told Joe to shoot the buffalo in the shoulder. The buff turned to the shot and came straight for them. The second shot was in the chest but did not seem to have any effect. This was looking interesting. Ken only allows us to put three bullets in a weapon. There are several good reasons for this, one is you very rarely get a jammed weapon, two every one in the team knows you only have three bullets. Like now, we all know that Joe has only one shot left, his last shot put the buffalo in addrenaline drive. Ken shouts to Joe to reload – man where is the video camera? The look on Joes face as he realizes he is empty. The buffalo is still coming like a ten pinball right between the last two pins. Ken stepped forward and put a bullet in the buffalos shoulder and for a second it looked as if he was going down. Then he turned and came right back on line. Ken turned to Joe and shouted, "You loaded yet?" Joe replied with " ?&?*# you" as his rifle went up and the buffalo was right there when Joe’s shot put him down. What I would have given to have that on video. Our PH is one of the old dinosaurs and he has a reputation for making you clean up your own mess. Well, that was one for the memory book. After distributing the meat to a local village we had one of those unforgettable evening around the campfire talking rubbish.

Very early the next morning, we could hear lions roaring. There were at least two big males; we were going hard in their direction just before first light. It was not long before we picked up big lion tracks. There are many hunters around the world that have experienced Ken and Moses working together. The two are continual companions; they seem to read each other’s thoughts. When hunting together it’s an experience to be part of the team. Moses has that quiet manner about him that helps you to relax and Ken with his lifetime experience and an exceptional shot with any weapon. Cool when the heat is on give you confidence to do things you did not think you could.

After following the lion spoor for three or four km, we stopped. Ken and Moses stood listening then we hear it, two small grunts. As we picked up the pace there was a different snarl. There in front of us was one big male lion looking through the grass Ken told Joe to take him. The lion jumped in the air to the shot and disappeared into the long grass. Joe and Ken followed the spoor. The lion was laying up at the base of a small bushy tree. The ground here was higher and Joe put the lion down for keeps. He was a magnificent male 505lbs with a big sandy mane. As most hunters will understand, I was very pleased for Joe, but thought my chances of getting a lion were now very slim. But what the hell, we had taken two very big buffalo and one very big lion that night was another one for the memory book. Well three days later we came upon a new big male lion track followed for a short time and came upon him again looking at us through the long grass. My rifle touched my shoulder as he turned and moved off with a grunt. Then as he turned one last time to snarl at us my shot took him in the shoulder. The second shot took him in the chest as he leaped up doing a somersault. I had my lion and he was the slightly bigger weighing at 517lbs with a big mane. One of the most amazing hunts I have ever been on.

Ken and Moses pulled of another fantastic lion hunt in a different area two weeks later with another hunter. Taking a very big old lion with a full dark main. Joe and I have been hunting together for over twenty years and we both agree that this hunt was our best with the best.

Bill Moran