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My true outdoor stories out of Africa....

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  • #61
    Copy cat wannabe Hog hunter got his day.
    As experienced by Willem & Colyn
    He is a policeman, still serving, so he had better remain anonymous. Not that being a policeman is a disqualification in any sense. After all, some of my best friends are policemen, men that I really respect.

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    Anyhow, he fancied himself as somewhat of a brawler. Rough type, if you understand what I mean. The way that he holds that Police Service Nissan Van under his right arm when he patrolled his kingdom says it all. His loud and assertive tone when he was in the company of others, especially females, had a story to tell. His constant reference to the many incidents he has supposed to be involved in, painted a clear picture. His frequent fiddling with his service pistol, which he also carried when off duty [probably against regulations] was quite revealing. He loudly proclaimed the 9 millimeter Luger an instrument of infallible doom.

    He frequented the local agricultural shop [co-op] where farmers congregate, and could frequently be seen bending over his right shoulder, in a peculiar sort of way. Until somebody realized that he was actually inspecting the back of his calves. He wore black rugby shorts and socks, with Cat boots whenever he could. He had massive calves and thighs, and was supposed to have been kept out of the provincial Rugby squad [tight head, would you believe!] by a jealous officer with connections, whom he had supposedly cuckolded. His transfer to that little satellite police station in the bundu [remote area] also had something to do with that episode.

    And yet, for all the awe that he inspired, it somehow was never enough. He seemed to have this uncontrollable urge to go even further, to become even more frightening.
    Bigger and meaner. Something between Leroy Brown and Big Bad John.

    Perhaps he had the idea that somewhere in that small community there were some misguided people who still did not know that he was supposed to be ‘Rambo’ or ‘Tarzan’ or something. However it was, he was hell bent on proving something to someone. Exactly what and to whom he want to proof it, I really even now do not know.

    Now it so transpired that in the same community there was a man who was well known and truly respected. He was [still is] a humble man without pretences. He preferred the company of his family and a few close friends. People also know him as a dedicated and successful hunter-especially warthogs-with a wide and deep knowledge of firearms and related topics. Farmers trust him completely on their properties, and at any one time he holds the keys to a number of game farms where he is entrusted with the exterminating of vermin [Hogs!].

    Some of his Commando exploits are not that well known, perhaps it is better that way. Suffice to say that he has seen the elephant.

    Certainly not by design of his own, he became known as a man who could control his own fear, and who did not lose his head at inopportune moments. Why, at some stage a very large number of the boys in the community idolized him. It was only natural though, him being the School Headmaster and all.

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    I suppose it was a long way in coming, the Policeman chasing the reputation of the Headmaster. A reputation which the Headmaster most probably was not fully aware of, and which he certainly did not want. Of course it could have been that the policeman simply disliked teachers, although that would have been odd, seeing that he did not have that much exposure to teachers.

    However it was, it was soon clear that he was chasing a reputation.

    As it transpired, at around that time the headmaster started making a spear in the small workshop behind his house. He was often seen scrounging around the scrap metal dealer, looking for a piece of spring steel from a Toyota Landcruiser. When he was finished, he started the quest for suitable material for the handle. His intention was to single handedly hunt-in the proper sense of the word-and kill a warthog, armed with nothing but the homemade spear.

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    Having taken warthog and bush pig with every one of the thirteen calibers that he owned-including handguns-, as well as his compound bow, he was determined not to take another with such weapons until he had taken one with his spear. He was much impressed by one Sasha Siemel, and his forays in the South American jungles, using nothing but a spear to hunt and kill a large number of jaguars.

    Of course, the principal kept all of this to himself, but somehow the word leaked out at the local butcher’s, and a series of most unfortunate events were set in motion.
    Hearing of the principal’s intentions, our policeman was determined to-as one Buffalo Cody once stated-‘…..put on a little style myself….’ He loudly proclaim his intentions to use his service pistol and an enormous Bowie knife that he had ‘bought in the big city’ to exterminate the exploding warthog population that was driving the maize farmers around the bend. He also made some derogatory remarks about ‘assegai wielders [pig stickers] in general. He cut a most impressive figure, what with the short sword and his service pistol dangling from his uniform, or his shorts, depending whether he was on duty or not.

    Apparently on duty, he was driving along a farm road, on the lookout for criminals, no doubt, when he spotted a huge warthog sow trying frantically to get away through the fence.
    Most probably due to the fact that he was almost on top of the pig, she abandoned her efforts and ran a short distance before trying to get through the fence again.
    While so occupied, our worthy had in the mean time stopped the police van and had jumped out, and in no time he fired a shot with his service Beretta. The pig apparently dropped dead to the shot.
    No doubt reassured in his belief in the devastating potential of that particular caliber, he put the pistol in the van, and proceeds towards the fallen pig, brandishing his knife, ostensibly to bleed the carcass as any hunter worth his salt would tell you.

    Exactly why he saw fit to stab the carcass just behind the front leg is not really clear. Rumors that he was faking a knife assault on the seemingly dead pig could be a bit harsh. He may just have tried to bleed the carcass in a manner other than the conventional slitting of the throat.

    Whatever it was, the pig did not see the fun in it, and promptly jumped up. This sudden movement caused the knife handle to turn sharply in his hand and he fell forward, badly spraining his wrist. As he grappled for the knife, now imbedded in the pig, his hand closed on the blade. Suddenly he now had a very lively pig on the end of a knife, of which he now held part of the cutting edge! He was severely cut. Being a well trained professional he immediately realized that he was in peril, disarmed and confronted by a very angry opponent that did not seem to be bothered by his reputation.

    He turned and ran.

    He ran like hell for the van, and the hog gave chase, overhauling him in no time, smashing into the back of his huge rugby calves, ripping out flesh and tendon. Excellent training in the police academy now paid off. As he fell, he remembered to break his fall and roll over; using his momentum he tried to regain his feet. Only problem was that the hog had already turned and was coming back for more. She promptly smashed into his rib cage, ripping out bits of his left upper arm for good measure.
    As he lay supine, the pig proceeds to run over him, lengthwise. The sharp totters inflicted nasty wounds all the way up, until the hooves of the departing pig punctured into his left cheek, gouging into his gums.

    What is reasonably certain was that the pig was not trying to get to the jugular, as some mischievous folks have suggested. Why the pig broke of the engagement exactly then, is how ever uncertain. Speculations about the bowl content in the police trousers as being the reason for the hog’s retreat are considered to be unfounded by some. Hogs are well known eaters of carrion. Not put off by the vilest stench imaginable. For whatever reason, the pig broke off the action and ran off.
    At that point our lawman suddenly becomes calm, realizing that he had been in grave danger of being killed. He deduced that the blood streaming from his various wounds was cause for immediate action. He overcomes the stifling fear that the pig would return, and become determined not to bleed to death out there next to the road.
    He painfully managed to reach the van and drove off to the nearby petrol station. The attendant on duty was astounded by what he saw. ‘Huge hog at Big Dan’s gate. Call the pastor ‘was all he could get out before he collapsed. Why he wanted the pastor to be alerted could not been determined.

    Fortunately for him the doctor was in attendance at a nearby roving clinic, and he could be stabilized before he was rushed to hospital, a considerable distance away.
    A party of friends and one brother lawman immediately set out and soon identified the site of the skirmish next to the fence, close to the gate of Big Dan’s property. There was quite a bit of blood everywhere. They found the place where the pig had eventually gone through the fence. They then found the enormous Bowie knife, the blade of which was visibly bend.

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    Using a cell phone to call for back-up, they waited for the owner of the liquor store to arrive, bringing a rifle and a goodly supply of ammunition. Apparently he also brought something against the effects of a sudden onset of nervousness. Suitably armed and fortified against any possible further aggression on the part of the hog, they proceed.
    They found the pig, dead. It had a single bullet wound that had penetrated the rib-cage and exited without any visible damage. Upon opening up the chest cavity, they discovered that the 115 gr ball had nicked the spinal column, explaining the few moments of ‘dead’. It also penetrated the lungs, causing internal bleeding.
    There was also a stab wound, and the heart and some lung tissue were clearly lacerated. Nobody had the gumption to utilize the carcass, so it was given to the pump attendant who had dragged the policeman out of the van earlier.

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    His recovery was slow and painful, and it was many a month before he ventured out on patrol again in the white police van. Funny thing was that he now kept all the windows shut. Even after the injuries to his face healed, he remained reserved and quiet. And he did not quite regain his old self.

    Where- ever folks saw him they made a fuss, and he was requested to tell the story of his amazing, single handed fight with the aggressive hog over and over again.
    He could sense the mockery in the eyes of some. And in the eyes of others he could see admiration, exultation even. Still others were full of pity and concern.
    And I suppose it all made him thoroughly sick, what with the way he became withdrawn and morose.

    If you visit the satellite Police station in that small rural community today, you will still find him there-a changed man.
    Who would have thought that a ‘hog’ could unwittingly have such a live changing effect on a brazen self proclaimed ‘hero’?

    I know, because I was there!
    Sometimes the mind can not comprehend what the eye can not see...

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    • #62
      We all know somebody like that. When I was working in computer hardware, I knew that I could nearly double my wage by getting one or more "industry standard" certifications. After the first one, a friend was congratulating me on passing the tests involved. An annoying acquaintance then said "if Wendy can do it, anyone can."

      My friend, being both smarter, and of faster wit, then asked of the unskilled laborer, "Then why don't you?"

      I did indeed move on, and my income was much better.

      But these days, I'm more concerned about teaching my grandchildren to play outside.
      quam minimum credula postero

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      • #63
        lucky..so far......



        see the lurking Leopard?
        Last edited by Observe; 07-07-2015, 08:40 AM.
        Sometimes the mind can not comprehend what the eye can not see...

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        • #64
          Have you been scouting your next hunt?
          quam minimum credula postero

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          • #65
            W.lynn
            i'm leaving in 2 days time for that and will only be back in september
            also some primitive solo walk-and-stalk spear hunting for warthogs on the charts...

            [ATTACH=CONFIG]6006[/ATTACH]
            Sometimes the mind can not comprehend what the eye can not see...

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            • #66
              A monster!

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              Sometimes the mind can not comprehend what the eye can not see...

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              • #67
                Some hunting/camping gear...

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                • #68
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                  Sometimes the mind can not comprehend what the eye can not see...

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                  • #69
                    Originally posted by Observe View Post
                    A monster!

                    [ATTACH=CONFIG]6014[/ATTACH]
                    If I had to pick one animal on this earth that absolutely scares the hell out of me, that would be the one. Not sure why really, except for the way it looks. I don't know anything about them and I will likely never see one outside of a zoo, but they still scare the heck out of me.



                    Tex
                    = 2
                    sigpic

                    If we cannot define a simple word like greatness, how can we ever hope to use it as a measuring stick to know when we have risen beyond average?

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                    • #70
                      I love your photos Observe, for both the scenery and the animals. I've traveled a fair amount, but at my age, I'm probably done with leaving the continent I'm on.
                      quam minimum credula postero

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                      • #71
                        Originally posted by Tex View Post
                        If I had to pick one animal on this earth that absolutely scares the hell out of me, that would be the one. Not sure why really, except for the way it looks. I don't know anything about them and I will likely never see one outside of a zoo, but they still scare the heck out of me.



                        Tex
                        Tex,for sure it would be in anybodies interest to have a lot of respect for these scary wild creatures!
                        Don't let anybody try and convince you that they are cute or cool little Walt Disney characters/creatures!
                        A big Alpha dog baboon have no fear, and are a really terrible sight!
                        A baboon have bigger teeth [canines] than the biggest dog or even a leopard!

                        One of the big problems [for various reasons] came about when baboons lost their fear for humans and became more brazen and aggressive,as it feel it got dominance over especially women and children.
                        [They are very clever creatures and can distinguish/sense a male that will not run,though its not always wise...!]

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                        The lady in this photo is running from the shop to her car while being mobbed by an aggressive male baboon.
                        These are problem baboons and somebody is going to get hurt here for sure!
                        They refuse to 'put down' these instigators/ aggressive baboons in Cape town--
                        Well we have to wait and see,because as it stands now, the vulnerable ones here are the shoppers, and more baboons are becoming like this...
                        Just imagine, a troop of 100 aggressive baboons waiting outside the mall for 'easy' food to come their way!
                        Why will they continue survival foraging in the nearby mountain if all these nice juicy food are on offer every day?

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                        Once they become rogue like this,unfortunately there is only one solution....

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                        Watch the movie 'Sands of the Kalahari' --1965



                        thanks W.Lynn!

                        Tex,I just want to find the photo,then I will tell you about one of my encounters with a rogue wild Alpha male Baboon......
                        Last edited by Observe; 07-08-2015, 12:20 AM.
                        Sometimes the mind can not comprehend what the eye can not see...

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                        • #72
                          don't think for a moment that baboons eat only plants and fruit...!!

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                          or that the big ones are always afraid of leopards,lions,cheetah,wild dogs etc...

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                          Sometimes the mind can not comprehend what the eye can not see...

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                          • #73
                            I can't explain why those things freak me out, but I can't see myself ever being around one and it walking away from the encounter. The way they are acting around humans now, the only cure for that is to remove them from the bunch. Once an animal associates food with people, there is no teaching it to go back to the natural way.



                            Tex
                            = 2
                            sigpic

                            If we cannot define a simple word like greatness, how can we ever hope to use it as a measuring stick to know when we have risen beyond average?

                            Comment


                            • #74
                              Tex,I think you 'll be able to relate on something here..

                              I'm going to be 'off-grit' for a while,and will leave you with these ramblings--keep safe!

                              My Cold steel boar spear came to the rescue....

                              Nah, I did not really hunt this baboon in the true sense of the word with my spear, but still...
                              This was a very close shave indeed! I was out trying to protect the fodder from the raiding baboons, when I shot this one, but let me start at the beginning…

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                              My friend is a rancher with a huge spread of land with many wild animals still roaming free. He is also specializing in breeding pedigree Brahman stud bulls. It so transpired that the resident baboon troop on his ranch took a liking in the power fodder that he fed these bulls to get them in tip-top condition for the upcoming agricultural show. He is renowned for his good bulls, and they have won many prizes in the past.

                              Now, this one Alpha male dog baboon got a liking and an attitude to match for the bull fodder in the trough. This baboon will sit next to the Crip, and scoop the fodder out with his fore-arm onto the ground in front of him, and then proceed leisurely to take his pick and eat only the choice bits and pieces. He is not at all scared of these huge bulls many-many times his size, and in fact aggressively intimidate them and keep them away from the fodder until he had his fill! It also seems that the pedigree bulls then refuse to eat the left-over fodder from the ground [due maybe to the baboon smell, & cattle doing their ‘thing’ on the ground on top of this spilled fodder etc?]
                              His prize bulls are now starting to loose condition for the upcoming competition as they cannot get to the expensive fodder.

                              When he calls me one Thursday afternoon out of desperation, how could I refuse?
                              He pleaded with me to please come and snipe this trouble maker, as he is by far too sharp and streetwise to let anybody trying to sneak up to him unexpectedly! All they tried was all in vain. He had informed me that these raids took place during the mid-mornings and again late afternoons.
                              With this info in mind, I decided to try for the mid-morning crime to be committed.

                              I concealed myself at about 7: 15 well camouflaged approximately 80m away in a thick strand of head high dense Tambuki grass. Laying flat on the ground with my trusted scoped BRNO de lux 30-06 stoked with 180 gr that I am confidant of shooting pinpoint minute of angle shots at that range, I settled in for the wait. I had a beautiful view of the trough through a smallish ‘hole’ in the grass, and the rifle was resting quit comfortably aiming at the ambush setting.

                              After a more than an 3- hour quiet and motionless wait, this big rouge baboon suddenly just appears as if by magic out of the grass on the far side of the clearing. Through the powerful rifle-scope I observed its vigilant scanning of his surroundings, and could even spot the reddish brown tint in the direct sunlight in his otherwise dark black fur.

                              After some time, maybe 10-15 minutes of observing the surroundings [and luckily missing me completely!], it walk with what look like a very confident swagger towards the trough. At the same time I caught movement in the scope from the right, and saw to my horror three of the many prize and huge Brahman bulls also coming for a snack. Now this could complicate things, as I surely do not want to wound one of these priceless animals by mistake!

                              Then I was fortunate enough to observe one of the many untold dramas for dominance and survival that happens every day. These three huge bulls were aware of the baboon and walked purposely abreast towards him trying to scare him away with their size and bulk. Now, this baboon meanwhile had walked up to about the half of the length of the trough and was sitting with his right side towards me facing the three bulls with the trough separating them. The bulls were clearly not happy with the baboon’s presence and proceed to bob their heads and snorting loudly. The baboon took absolutely zero attention to their antics, and in fact treated their presence with total ignorance while only raising his eyebrows up and down with annoyance and disrespect while continuing to scoop fodder out of the trough with his forearm and daintily eating only the choice pieces from the ground between his legs!

                              When one of the bulls tries to come around the trough towards the baboon, he suddenly and fluently jumped up with terrifying and loud ‘whhhaa-hu, whhhaa-hu!’ grunts, charging the bull with bared teeth and with a lot of flying dust! This unsettled the bull and he turns around, and at that moment, right there, the fight was over as the other two bulls also ran off for a short distance, just looking back at the fodder, but not bothering to approach any more.
                              When the baboon came and sit down again, I had a clear shot without the danger of hitting the champion breeding bulls.

                              I observed him through my 3-9x10 scope set on 6x and waited patiently for the ideal moment. When he leaned forward again to scoop some more fodder out with his right forearm, I shot him about 4 fingers down under the armpit on the right side. To my utter astonishment, he did not move a muscle, but just sat there motionless. I have shot big Kudu and Blue Wildebeest with the same rifle-bullet combination with much more reaction than that! After a while I assume it is dead and stood up to stretch my legs and back after lying motionless by that time for nearly four hours flat on my stomach. To fetch the Jeep, I had to walk back for some distance behind the thorn trees.
                              At the Jeep I drank some water and secure the rifle safely in its bag, as the bumpy two line dirt road can very easily damage the aim of the scope.

                              On reaching the trough to pick up the carcass of the rouge baboon to go and show my friend, I saw to my surprise that the ‘dead’ baboon was gone!
                              Well with a massive wound like that in the chest cavity, it could not have gone very far I reasoned, so leaving the rifle in its bag, I only took up my cold steel boar spear—mainly to part the dense and long grass on the blood spoor in front of me.

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                              My mistake!

                              Suddenly, totally unexpectedly, this wounded baboon charged me out of the dense head high grass at a distance of about 8 m! Well, I can attest that an unexpected encounter with a big and angry fighting mad bull baboon at close quarters, - even if it’s mortally wounded-- is just a fearsome sight and the stuff that nightmares are made off! I could luckily stab it in the chest and stopped it before it could reach me, but with hindsight it didn’t really came as fast as I initially perceived it did…

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                              Examining the carcass and gunshot wound afterwards, I was amazed that it could still just be alive for 7-10 minutes after the shot, and to have the survival instinct/strength/meanness to charge at me after such a horrible wound as well.
                              I'm sure not many humans would have been able duplicating that feat given the same bullet wound!

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                              It just shows you, that even an experienced hunter must never assume anything when alone out in the wild!
                              My friend was very happy and gave me the scull as a ‘trophy’ to tell a story by..
                              That year again some of his prize bulls won some accolades, and he afterwards gave me the keys to the ‘wild’ part of the ranch to hunt whenever I wish! Well talk about a win-win situation!

                              Those canines are bigger than those of a very big dog, or even a Leopard--see the comparison[a camp raiding baboon on the left with .357 H&H for scale..]

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                              Forget about the silly Walt Disney baboon stories, I can first-hand tell you that an angry big Alpha bull baboon is definitely not something that you would ever want to encounter out in the wild if you could avoid it!

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                              Here he is being put to good use now by protecting the old folk's home.

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                              If you do not know about him, and suddenly saw him calmly sitting there in the shade on the porch watching you...

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                              Well, let’s just say that many a would be nuisance character knocking on the door got the fright of their lives![

                              This last photo is taken about a year later of the same fellow that nearly got me...
                              He is now doing ‘guard-duty’ on the old folks veranda, where he just quietly sat in the dark shaded corner and observe the coming and going of all visitors. He gave the domestic help the fright of their lives when they encounter him, just sitting and looking at them, and so far, his legacy has stood my parents to good stead.


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                              Last edited by Observe; 07-09-2015, 11:11 AM.
                              Sometimes the mind can not comprehend what the eye can not see...

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                              • #75
                                Be safe of you journey, we'll see you when you get back. And after your warthog story, I'd have thought that you'd know better than to assume it was dead, and to carry the rifle with you, though it would have been too close to do much with a rifle.
                                Defund the Media !!

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