Mountain Reed Buck
I was about half way through my ten day adventure with Dries Visser Safaris when one of my buddies came into camp with a critter I had never seen. They claimed it was Mountain Reed Buck. It was about the size of a hill country whitetail but it had horns that curved forward like a cartoon Martian. My PH, a fine young man named Stephen went into great detail about how they can be hunted and the rugged country they inhabit. Arrangements were made to borrow a pop up blind and plans laid to travel a couple of hours east to a small mountain range that was know to hold a huntable population of the little Antelopes.
The next morning we set up the blind and brushed it in. We were set up at a small water hole right in the top of a mountain. The country was fairly open and in contrast to the ranches I had hunted earlier in the week we sat until 10:00 am before we saw any animals. Around noon we saw the buck we were after. He came across eighty yards below us, stood for a while and then bedded down. As the day warmed the does began to show up at the water hole and the buck moved down to harass them. For the next hour he was never over thirty yards away. I drew my bow no less than a dozen times but I just couldn’t get the shot I wanted. Shooting instinctive, I have to rely on my gut feelings. Every time I came to full draw he either had other animals step up beside him or it just plain didn’t feel right and I would let down.
After a while Stephen whispered “Impala” and thirty or forty Impala came trotting in to take over the water hole. They were every where around us, some drinking, some butting the Reed bucks and some fighting among themselves. The big Buck we had been watching left in a trot with several of the does. Stephen whispered “wow that is a fine buck coming in on the right” he never even flinched, six seconds later when the Zephyr tipped shaft slammed into the twenty four inch Impala buck. I guess after a week with me he had learned, you have to be careful what you say around me when I have a bow in my hand.
The next morning we were back and so was the Reed buck. It was a replay of the day before. He chased the does back and forth in front of us. Some times so close it looked like we could just grab him. Still he offered no shot I was willing to take. As if on cue the Impala showed up and the Reed buck began to drift away. Much to our surprise the rutted up Reed buck came dashing around the water hole and crashed into a smallish Impala buck. The Impala broke under the attack and backed away. The Reed buck, all full of himself came stiff legging back across in front of us. As he passed I brought the 74 pound Black Widow to full draw. He heard some thing and made three big jumps but stopped and looked back at the blind. Big mistake, the 1-9/16” head hit him behind one shoulder and out in front of the other, exploding against a large rock after its work was done. I was babbling like a school girl when we watched the buck fall after a fifty yard run. I’m not sure which I was the most proud about. The split second shot as he was leaving or my restraint during the last two days of not forcing a shot I was not comfortable with.
A long time supporter of the LSBA, Dries Visser Safaris runs one of the premier bow hunting operations in Africa. I would recommend, even Inco urge any one to book a hunt with him. As a Bowhunting goes there is no place on earth that compares with Africa.
Marty Thomas
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