Browsing: Cape Buffalo

There are some stories that must be written. If they are not, they will only be remembered by those who were there in the heat and dust, with thirst on their thick tongues, and their minds wandering far away when they should be concentrating on the task at hand. Stories lost because they were not written.

The 13th bull was waiting for us. As he got up, he came in one movement. Low and fast. Intention apparent. As I started falling backwards, Michael’s .375 Rigby H&H went off beside me. Rifle off my shoulder, I was pulling the trigger for first right and then left barrel before I hit the deck. The gun was not on my shoulder, but in the direction of danger. A flash of blood was all I could see from what I thought was my right barrel at the hump of our aggressor, who then turned to flee to our left. The .500 NE had turned him at three yards.