Taking on a Cape Buffalo charge HEAD ON…

By Ron Machado

My professional hunter (P.H.), Poen van Zyl, squatted slightly, and motioned me to his side.  He turned to face me and said quietly, “The buffalo is laying down about thirty yards in front of us.  Can you see him?”  I could see a dark shape in the dense undergrowth, but not the buffalo.  Poen handed me his field glasses; looking through them, I could see the buffalo.  I could make out his shape through the foliage and see the heavy breathing caused by my lung shot nearly three hours ago.

I had taken the first shot just before six a.m. and followed it up with two additional shots. We could see the animal hunch up with all three shots. He continued to follow his herd, falling behind, but made it to the forested area bordering the large pan where they were watering and feeding.

Once we entered the forest, I fully expected to find him but he continued to move.  Sometimes he was with the herd, and sometimes would fall behind.  When the buffalo was with the herd, we needed to follow slowly.  If he left without us seeing his track, we could lose him.  Our tracker, a local by the name of Gorchie Santos, was exceptional.  We slowly followed the buffalo where I could see no tracks or blood.  I did question our direction, when I could not see any blood for a period of time.  Then, within a few minutes, Gorchi pointed out a few drops of blood on a leaf or low branch.
While we moved quietly, we did push the herd when they would sense us.  Once the buffalo sensed us, they moved off fast crashing through the forest.  We reached a spot, where they had bedded down where I saw large sprayed areas of blood.  As time went on, this continued to increase.  My lung shot was causing great blood loss to the buffalo.  The animal was losing blood with each step.  The floor of the forest was covered, as if a person was cleaning a paint brush by swinging it to the ground.  This is when Poen called me to him and pointed out the bedded buffalo.
The buffalo’s head and front shoulder were partially covered by branches and brush.  The only shot I had was in the middle of its body.  Poen told me to take whatever I could, as the more lead in him the better off we were.  I tried to keep the shot as far forward on the body as I could, without hitting the foliage.  I did not want the shot to be deflected.  At my shot, with the exception of the wounded buffalo, all of the herd animals rose and burst into the forest.  He moved to our left and stopped under a low tree.  I removed the spent shell in my .458, topped off my magazine with a fresh 500 gr. solid, and walked forward with Poen and Gorchi.
In a flash, Gorchi, poor Gorchie, who had no gun, fell flat to the ground and looked back at us, trusting us to end the buffalo’s rampage.  Poen yelled that the buffalo was going to charge.  With that, the buffalo broke through the branches and brush and came directly at us.  When he burst out from under the branches, his head was held high.  I can only say what my mind saw.  The buffalo truly looked ten feet tall.  My first shot was followed up by my P.H. shooting, but the buffalo continued to come.  I am sure he was making some kind of noise, but I did not hear anything.  I fired, again, and the buffalo turned slightly and stopped, but only for a split second, he lowered his head and turned on us.  I fired the last shot in my gun, as Poen fired also.

The buffalo fell to the ground less than three yards in front of us.

I managed to get two rounds into my rifle, as we circled the beast.  There was no need for an additional shot, as one of our shots had hit the buffalo one inch below its right eye.  During this brief encounter, I felt no fear.  The thought of running never entered my mind. After my buffalo was on the ground, my emotions broke free.  I let out a yell that could be heard a mile away.  I felt alive; the sense of facing one of the most dangerous animals in Africa was extraordinary.  As my senses returned, the area came into view.  I could see the colors, smell the buffalo, everything was clear.

Professional Hunter, Poen van Zyl, and Ron with Ron’s trophy Cape Buffalo.

Before the hunt, I had told anyone who would listen that I wanted a specific horn shape.  From my first shot, until the animal was on the ground, I never looked at the horns.  I am happy beyond belief.  Everything about this hunt was exceptional, from the tracking after my first shots to the closing in on the animal, and the tunnel vision of its last and final charge.  They will be imprinted on my mind forever.

The day I took my buffalo was November 3, 2010, the fourth day of my hunt in Mozambique, with John X Safaris.
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