The Hunt Chose Me ~ Story by JOHN GROBE Published by SCI

Driving down the winding road into the bottom of the valley, the dense brush on both sides opened into a clearing with a small waterhole on our right side.  As the vehicle approached two massive dark figures stood belly deep in the murky water, a pair of old Dugga Boys gazing straight at us.  Clayton, my PH, stopped the truck for a closer inspection, “two old bulls” he responded.  The one closer to the shore starred at us as if we had entered a restricted area that he was the governor of.  In an instant he came thrashing out of the water towards the vehicle with a half-hearted charge.  My PH wasted no time quickly accelerating ahead leaving the bull in our dust to avoid any potential confrontation with the truck.  It was March of 2022 in South Africa; in that exact moment I knew a Cape Buffalo hunt was in my very near future.

Fast forward almost a year to February of 2023, I was back in the Eastern Cape of South Africa for an eight-day adventure with my friends at John X Safaris.  Carl Van Zyl runs a fantastic operation that is truly first class, and once again I was paired with my friend and PH Clayton Fletcher.  This safari was different than the previous ones however, as Cape Buffalo was the focal point of my trip.  I had always figured that one day I would get around to chasing an old Dagga Boy, but that encounter by the waterhole the year before had changed things for me.  Ever since that day a Buffalo had been at the forefront of my mind.  I had watched countless safari episodes, read a staggering number of books and articles from legends like Craig Boddington, and had studied shot placement for various scenarios that may present themselves.  I was as prepared as a first-time buffalo hunter could be, and a quick trip to the range with the .375 magnum gave me the confidence I needed before the hunt presumed.  We spent the afternoon of my arrival looking over a few herds in the distance and managed to glass up a Dagga Boy in a valley by himself, completely unapproachable though.  It was a beautiful first day and sunset, but the real hunting would start the following morning.

That first morning began as usual there, a light breakfast, cup of coffee and off into the bush as the sun begins to break over the horizon.  Our group was the first safari of the year and the summer rains had been generous to the Woodlands Reserve.  Clayton had mentioned that the grass on the edges of the plains was green, tall and that many buffalo would travel up at last light to feed before returning to the security of the thick bush just after daylight as the temperatures heated up.  Our plan was to glass up bachelor groups or single bulls and get between where they would be feeding and the bedding areas in the dense valley.  His strategy was perfect as we were successful in finding both bachelor groups and larger herds in several different locations that day.  We had the opportunity to discuss all the characteristics that one might look for in the quote “bull of his dreams”, always coming back to the simple fact that I would know it when he looked at me.  The day had been fruitful and there were plenty of buffalo around, now we just needed to find the right bull.

The next day searching for buffalo had a similar schedule to the previous one.  On this day however, we located a small group of bulls with some solid contenders right after daybreak.  After a lengthy stalk, required to get the wind right, we found ourselves in what we believed was the perfect position.  The group was at a small waterhole that fed down into a valley with idea cover for bedding and we had setup between the two.  As solid as this plan was, the bulls decided to lay down in some sparse brush just beneath the water leaving us with very little cover for an approach.  We were able to manoeuvre closer and eventually ran out of workable terrain at about a hundred yards.  While attempting to wait them out we felt that unmistakable kiss of wind on the back of our necks that hunters know all too well, and in an instant that group was headed over the ridge and out of our lives forever.  The spot and stalk game as I have learned over the past few safaris is all about the wind, and a swirling one will get you busted almost every time.  Later in the afternoon we located a different bachelor group of five bulls, from a distance it seemed that one or two may have potential and so we were off to take a closer look.  Utilizing the undulation of the terrain and a dam from a small body of water, we were once again able to close the distance.  As we creeped over the dam they stood just fifty yards away, feeding in a lush area of grass likely caused from the rain overflow.  Clayton quickly set the shooting sticks into place and had me get into position, but after assessing the group for a few moments it became obvious that there was only one hard-bossed bull, and he wasn’t quite the caliber that we were looking for.  As the day came to an end, we were tired, but felt good about our chances.  We had a pre-planned date with some other species up in the Karoo the next day with a quick one-nighter trip, so the buffalo would have to wait for now.

– My PH Clayton Fletcher and I with my Lechwe from the Great Karoo.

On the fourth day of the safari, we had arrived back at the Woodlands Reserve following the short side trip to the mountainous area of the Karoo (a truly magnificent place).  The diversity in this part of South Africa is what makes it such a unique and one-of-a-kind experience.  You can quite literally drive two hours in any direction and feel as if you are on a completely different continent.  With that little adventure behind us, we were once again focused on all things buffalo.  Driving around early that evening we found the one!  This bull was everything that I had dreamed of, wide, massive, good bosses and he had that look about him.  A brief conference between PH, tracker and I set forth a game plan to get into position to cut the small bachelor group off as they crested the valley to undoubtedly feed in a small, lush bowl surrounded by sparse brush.  We approached with a stiff wind in our face and nestled into position for the planned ambush.  Unfortunately, this group had not read the script just as those two days earlier.  They decided to lay down right in the middle of the grassy area with a bull seemingly staring in every direction.  With a thunderstorm just over the horizon and sunset rapidly approaching, my PH decided it was now or never if we were going to make a move.  We cut the distance by over two hundred yards by butt scooting, crawling and crab walking to go undetected.  We were over two hours into the stalk when we reached the last bush between us and them, barely large enough to provide cover for the two of us and the camera man behind me.  Clayton made a quick decision, set up the sticks for a standing shot, for me to raise up into position and be ready to put one on the shoulder of the bull on the far right when he also stood.  I slowly moved into position and placed the .375 on the sticks as planned, but the old wily Dagga Boy spun on his way up immediately facing directly at us……..it was the look and moment I had dreamed of some many times!  Clayton asked how steady I was, and I responded “rock solid”, then the magic words “take him when you’re ready”.  I gently squeezed the trigger and at sixty-eight yards the Swift A-frame bullet struck with a resounding thud into the bull’s chest.  In an instant the old boy had disappeared over a slight ridge just behind where he had stood.  The moments that followed were intense as we approached the subtle ridge top, hoping that I had done my job well and made a good shot.  Just as we began to crest the ridge there was a huge sense of relief followed by pure joy as we heard the death bellow from the old bull.  The blood trail instantly became obvious, and the old warrior had fully expired before we reached his final resting point.  In just a few short minutes after squeezing the trigger the game was over.  My heart still beating out of my chest from the anticipation and adrenalin of the experience, I was finally able to regain control of my emotions and give proper admiration to our bounty.  He was a gorgeous old Dagga Boy that checked all the boxes, my first Cape Buffalo but definitely not my last!

If you’d like to watch John’s hunt unfold then feel free to do so on our John X Safaris YouTube Channel!

Contact us today for more information on our hunts and feel free to mail Carl directly on johnxsafarishunts@gmail.com with your specific safari requests or quotes. We look forward to hearing from you and sharing a campfire in Africa.

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