Al Thompson
Staff Alumnus
Since the request was for a quote "campfire tail" I'll see what I can come up with.
When I hunted Africa, I had a week or so in Botswana. We were camped above the Chobe Game Preserve and fairly close to Angola.
Accordingly, I kept my Sako .375 close at hand with magazine full and chamber empty. I also had a pair of sneakers, utility belt with full canteen and compass next to the cot. My thoughts were that I could run or fight as the need presented itself.
The camp was laid out in a semi-circle with a campfire in the middle of the circle. The work crew slept around the fire while the PH and I had a walled tent each. A third tent was there for gear.
My PH was careful to harvest the meat from our kills and convert it to biltong. (jerky)
The biltong was strung on string that was suspended from the trees that surrounded the camp.
That day I had popped one of two Cape Buff that I was to collect. We had the beast strung up under a near-by tree. The buff was being quartered out and reduced to baskets full of meat. One of the quarters was suspended from a large branch between the PH's tent and mine.
As we had busted ass getting the buff in and had sucked down a few sundowners, we pretty much conked out after supper.
Somewhere around midnight I awoke to screams and shouting. A flashlight beam was bouncing off the tent walls and my whole tent was shaking. There was a low growling and the sound of scuffling feet. My PH started shouting "Al - where are you?". I hollered back and he said something incomprehensible in Afrikans.
Suddenly there was a boom as he popped a round off and more yelling from the work party. Another boom split the night and I could hear something hauling ass through the brush.
My first thought was that one of the crew was a lions dinner and (visions of Corbett) we were going to have to "sort things out".
After the dust settled (and I cleared my rifle) it turns out that a hyena had attempted to steal the haunch of buffalo that hung between the tents. His line of retreat was between my tent and the PHs. The damn thing was so strong that he was pulling the haunch hard enough to move the branch - the same branch that you'll remember my tent was tied to. To drive off the hyena, my PH had popped a couple of .458 rounds in the air. The next one was going in the hyena - which is why he wanted to know where I was.
The next night, we dropped the buff carcass in a gully 100 yards or so from camp. The morning after that, we saw where a hyena drug the thing over a hundred yards furthur out to eat it. By 9 the buzzards had dropped on it and by that afternoon, nothing but bones were left..
Africa is a lifetime of hunting in a few short weeks..
Giz
[This message has been edited by Gizmo99 (edited August 10, 1999).]
[This message has been edited by Gizmo99 (edited August 10, 1999).]
When I hunted Africa, I had a week or so in Botswana. We were camped above the Chobe Game Preserve and fairly close to Angola.
Accordingly, I kept my Sako .375 close at hand with magazine full and chamber empty. I also had a pair of sneakers, utility belt with full canteen and compass next to the cot. My thoughts were that I could run or fight as the need presented itself.
The camp was laid out in a semi-circle with a campfire in the middle of the circle. The work crew slept around the fire while the PH and I had a walled tent each. A third tent was there for gear.
My PH was careful to harvest the meat from our kills and convert it to biltong. (jerky)
The biltong was strung on string that was suspended from the trees that surrounded the camp.
That day I had popped one of two Cape Buff that I was to collect. We had the beast strung up under a near-by tree. The buff was being quartered out and reduced to baskets full of meat. One of the quarters was suspended from a large branch between the PH's tent and mine.
As we had busted ass getting the buff in and had sucked down a few sundowners, we pretty much conked out after supper.
Somewhere around midnight I awoke to screams and shouting. A flashlight beam was bouncing off the tent walls and my whole tent was shaking. There was a low growling and the sound of scuffling feet. My PH started shouting "Al - where are you?". I hollered back and he said something incomprehensible in Afrikans.
Suddenly there was a boom as he popped a round off and more yelling from the work party. Another boom split the night and I could hear something hauling ass through the brush.
My first thought was that one of the crew was a lions dinner and (visions of Corbett) we were going to have to "sort things out".
After the dust settled (and I cleared my rifle) it turns out that a hyena had attempted to steal the haunch of buffalo that hung between the tents. His line of retreat was between my tent and the PHs. The damn thing was so strong that he was pulling the haunch hard enough to move the branch - the same branch that you'll remember my tent was tied to. To drive off the hyena, my PH had popped a couple of .458 rounds in the air. The next one was going in the hyena - which is why he wanted to know where I was.
The next night, we dropped the buff carcass in a gully 100 yards or so from camp. The morning after that, we saw where a hyena drug the thing over a hundred yards furthur out to eat it. By 9 the buzzards had dropped on it and by that afternoon, nothing but bones were left..
Africa is a lifetime of hunting in a few short weeks..
Giz
[This message has been edited by Gizmo99 (edited August 10, 1999).]
[This message has been edited by Gizmo99 (edited August 10, 1999).]