It is amazing how dark the nights can get in Mozambique. It is three in the morning and I am subconsciously becoming aware of the sounds around me. The soft metal against metal sounds from the kitchen are mingling with the unusual trio of owls, each giving their own opposing melody, which results in a harmonious concert. The trio consist of a Wood, Scopes and Giant eagle owl and is now as much part of the camp pre dawn life as Elvech, setting the breakfast table in his usually conscientious, quiet manner. I smelled the slight scent of eggs and usual thinly sliced venison steak, mixed with freshly baked bread before I dose off again.

 Waking up I look at my watch and realize it is time to get up and call to Elvech. Hearing his footsteps going towards the client’s tent, followed by his“ tea …. morning” and the sound of the tent’s outside light being switch on.  I get up and walk over to my clothes, set  out nicely from the day before by the laundry attendant and get dressed. As I walk out of my tent Elvech comes over to me with my coffee, greeting me before he hands me my cup. There are few smells as good as freshly brewed coffee in the morning and I walk over to the fireplace and sit down near the still hot coals from the night before. It normally takes ten minutes for the clients to get to the breakfast table and it gives me the opportunity to prepare myself mentally for the day. This is my time, and what I remember of life on hunting safaris as a little boy. Getting up before everybody else and just listening to the sounds of day slowly approaching … what is better than the cracking call of a crested francolin at dawn?

 Tumo, my right hand man is already at the vehicle, checking the oil, water and tyre pressure before he cleans the windows and wipes the dust from the inside of the truck. He never seems to sleep and is always up, doing something. I get up to go and pour myself another cup of coffee and hear Paul unzip his tent. Elvech heard it too and is walking to the breakfast table with two bowls filled with eggs and steak. I greet Paul with the usual “morning, how did you sleep?” and we seat ourselves as food is served to us along with more coffee and tea.  I always find it hard eating a full breakfast so early, but after a month of being here I’ve got use to it.

 Tumo was at the vehicle joking with Estavao my lead tracker when I got there. Seeing me Estavao walks towards me greeting me with a welcomed smile. As usual we will listen to each others thoughts of the day to come and make a decision. Today we have the same idea…. Go back were we left the four bachelor bulls late yesterday afternoon and pick up their tracks again.

 It was still dark enough for me to use my vehicle lights as we left camp and I was running everything trough my mind, making sure we have not left anything behind when there was a flash in the headlights as two bush pigs ran across the road. They caught everybody by surprise as there is now a lot of talking on the truck compare with the usual silence. Scott my apprentice is giggling on the back seat from Paul’s remark,

” Sorry boys, did not mean for it to come out like that.”

By now Scott and I are laughing  out loud and Paul realising how funny it was, joined in.

 We have gone for thirty minutes and I have just turned the lights off when Estavao puts his hand up. He can be so calm while hunting that I never really know if he is just chasing a tsetse fly or actually wants me to stop, this time he is looking back at me and I stop. We all get off and inspect the tracks of the four bulls. Estavao is still sitting on the tracker seat, rolling a cigarette.  I nod to Tumo and give him and Scott the thumbs up. Tumo walks back to the truck taking Paul’s double 450-400 out of its case, opening the action before walking over to Paul and handing him his rifle.  I now take my own .458 Lott out and start to load it, four down one up and put the safe on, in the meantime Paul has put in two rounds, a Woodlegh soft and a solid into the chambers of his double waiting for me to give the go ahead so he can close the action.  I find it a relief to hunt with safety conscious hunter as there are few things that can ruin a hunt more, than a hunter who does not practises the basics of gun safety.

 Estavao was already fifty yards ahead by the time we were ready and everybody fell into place,  Estavao, me, Paul, Scott and a few yards behind Tumo and Jango always ready to come and help track if needed. We only lost the track once that day and Estavao found it in no time in some hard clay that impressed me to no end. Other than that it was easy going as the bulls walked in quite a straight general direction, which is only good for tracking as every time  I have followed buffalo that walked in such a straight bearing they never seem to stop especially in Mozambique. But it is difficult to turn around as all the time you believe the bulls will hold up in some thicket, but they do not. It was noon and we were approaching another patch of thickets with the tracks no fresher than when we started when Estavao stopped and took me to the side, showing me what I had hoped would not happen. The tracks were no fresher and it would probably be better if we turned around, as we were now about seven kilometres from the truck.

 I completely agreed with him but wanted to do one last thing before I made my decision, and took out my GPS to get a reading.  It was just as I thought – we were less than a kilometre from an old track in which direction the buffalo were moving.  I pointed this out to Estavao and he agreed with me to follow the tracks till they cross the track. There we could stop and send Scott back to fetch the truck.

 I started to realise this is no ordinary thicket as we got closer, as the brush seem to turn into a wall of hell with dead leafs covering the ground that would make walking quietly almost impossible. There was a small chance they would bed down in this thicket.  We were just about to enter and I waved Tumo and Jango closer as I did not want them too far behind me in the thicket, for it is easier to be in control of things when you can see everybody in the party especially with these northern Mozambique buffalo.  Estavao had just entered the thicket and was out of my sight when there was a trumpeting sound  coming from inside the thicket. We all heard it and I rechecked the wind thinking the elephants might have smelled us but the wind was good. Suddenly the thicket seemed to be alive with elephants trumpeting and branches breaking in almost every direction.  I can now clearly hear the sounds getting closer and realise the elephants are running our way.  Estavao was already behind me and I told everybody to get back, as I needed some space between me and the thicket to be able to shoot, if need be. But they seem to be frozen and I repeated the command, “Get Back”, and suddenly the reality got to all and they moved however, as the sound got louder and they moved faster. The group was now really panicking and about to break into a run, when I told them,” don’t run, don’t run!” when Tumo looks back, pointing to the side saying,” Buffalo”.   I was concentrating to the left were the elephant trumpeting came from so did not sea the buffalo till Tumo showed me. We were now less than fifteen yards in between a herd of about fifty buffalo and things were happening fast.  I am looking for a shootable bull but in the same time keeping an eye on the general direction from where the trumpeting is coming. Then there, there in front of us a good bull was moving to the left and he was so close.  I had no difficulty pointing him out to Paul who was by my side, ready for my command to shoot.

 Paul wasted no time in aiming for the shoulder and took the first shot following with a second to the bull’s rear as he turned. The buffalo immediately joined two other bulls running to our left and I can hear him breathing hard before he started to cough and I knew it was good.  ”Sounds like a lung shot” I  told Paul. “We will get him, lets just give him some time” We can still hear the faint trumpeting of elephants in the distance, as they now decided it safer somewhere else. Only now, I realise what really happened during the last few seconds. The elephants actually chased the buffalo to us, and gave us the chance at a shot.

 Fifteen minutes  passed since Paul shot the buffalo and it is time to go and find him. I open the bolt of my rifle and make sure it is still loaded and look at Paul to let him know, this is it, giving him my usual speech when we follow a potential dead or wounded buffalo.” Stay right next to me at all times with your safety on. The only time your safety comes off is when there is nothing between you and the buffalo and you are ready to shoot. If for some reason you have to get in behind me because of thick brush or something, you are out of the equation and you just do not shoot no matter what. You step forward next to me and only then do you shoot. I have a better chance handling a buffalo than a bullet. So let’s go.”

 I walked forward the fifteen yards to where the buffalo was when Paul shot him, and we almost immediately found blood. It is was an easy blood spoor to follow and Estavao is behind me, he knows the danger of a potentially wounded buffalo. Years of following his dad after buffalo with inadequate weapons, trying to supply military forces with meat had taught him great respect for these beast. But this is were Tumo comes in – he just does not care and will follow me into any situation as long as my .458 Lott is in my hand. Sometimes I think he believes we are invincible with the Lott.

 Fifty yards further we hear the death bellow a bit to our right, less than a hundred yards away.  I feel the relief as does everyone else. I indicated to everyone except Paul, to stay back and advanced in the direction of the bellow. Halfway to the buffalo I saw a movement through the brush and moved into a little bit of a clearing to see. There thirty yards in front of me was the dead buffalo, standing…. head up looking back in our direction.  Miraculously, in his last breath he had obviously smelled us and his adrenalin kicked in and was now looking for us. We had to act fast and it took three more shots to finish him off.

I approached the buffalo from behind and gave it a nudge with my foot before I touched his eye with my rifle barrel to declare him dead. Looking back I could see the relief in Paul’s eyes and the rest of the group was also getting closer with smiles everywhere.  This is when you know that the whole group is completely part of the hunt. It does not matter who actually shot the animal, as everybody deserves some recognition and everybody was congratulating everybody.

 The decision was made to send Scott back the ten kilometres to fetch the truck, while we caped the buffalo and carried his horns to the old bush track and to wait. We managed to reach the road just before dark and found ourselves a place to sit, recollecting the day while we waited for Scott. That complete Mozambican silence settled in again as we all waited

 In the meantime what we did not know was that Scott had his hands full in getting to the truck as he had to detour around elephant, his guide became lost more than once, and he almost walked smack into a big lion male at no more than nine yards away which he then had to quietly follow in order to get to the vehicle.  Needless to say he was as happy to see us, as we were to see him.

 The drive back to camp was just on two hours and we welcomed the sight of Elvech greeting us on our arrival with cold beers and the camp fire inviting us to come and sit and just enjoy the last few hours of  another great day in Mozambique!