By Mike Arnold
My pursuit of a Lichtenstein Hartebeest, like many of my trophies from around the world, began from a discussion with my wife, Frances. Ironically, a non-hunter, Frances gives her opinion of what trophies I go after based on their looks and/or quirkiness. Case-in-point, Frances wanted most of all that I take a Warthog on one of our 2021 trips to Zambeze Delta Safaris’ Mozambique hunting concession, Coutada 11. Her reasoning when asked, “They’re so ugly, they’re cool.” My Outfitter/Friend Mark Haldane, co-owner of the Coutada 11 concession, was taciturn when he gave his opinion of why I should shoot one of his ‘hogs’. “We have huge tuskers here, and besides, once you have the hog mounted hang it over your bed and when Frances looks up, she’ll realize you could be uglier.”
But, back to the Lichtenstein Hartebeests that swarm over much of Coutada 11. I explained to Frances that this Hartebeest was only available for hunting in Tanzania, Zambia, and Mozambique. So, I probably should take advantage of the opportunity afforded by being in a mecca for this species. Her answer, “I love the funkiness of their horns.” Sigh… O.K. The hunt for the funky-horned animal was on.
Just because there are a lot – and I mean thousands of animals according to a 2020 governmental wildlife survey of Coutada 11 and surrounding areas – doesn’t mean that one can just wander out and hit a chosen Hartebeest bull in the head with a rock. In fact, during the months we spent in Coutada 11 gathering material for the 2022 book, Bringing Back the Lions, and for magazine articles, and generally just having a whale of a time in wild Africa, the most frequent Hartebeest sightings were of their behinds as they used their rocking horse gait to outdistance the two-legged predators. Added to the difficulty of getting close to the wary Hartebeests, on the present Safari my main (and incredibly difficult to hunt in the daylight on purpose) species of interest was a bushpig.
Waiting until the pig was in the salt left us with one day to hunt for a Hartebeest. Not as tough as the bushpig, but still a tall order for my Professional Hunter, Bredger Thomason and his Tracker/Friend, Vasco. Bredger and Vasco’s attitude remained the same; even if the client is a pain-in-the-butt and demanding, keep smiling and try not to shoot them…fatally. Seriously, my PH and Tracker were confident of success, but that depended on getting close enough to a wary animal, in its chosen habitat of open meadows and floodplains where Hartebeests love to graze. Knowing this, Bredger headed the Land Cruiser to the border of the floodplain, passing beautiful, yellow-barked Fever Trees, named such because of the early explorers’ belief that the malaria contracted in the vicinity of the trees was due to a mist or vapor exuded from their leaves or bark. They never dreamt that the mosquitoes housed in the nearby, watery environs were the actual culprits.
As we reached a recently burned area along the floodplain’s margin, Vasco quietly tapped on top of the Land Cruiser’s cab. Bredger immediately brought the truck to a halt, listening to the whispers of his sharp-eyed colleague. He raised his binocular-rangefinder and peered into the clumps of eight-foot-tall Palmettos shielding the floodplain proper from our view. Turning to me he smiled and murmured, “Grab the rifle, Vasco spotted a herd of Hartebeests and two of the bulls look good.” Doing as told, I fell into line behind Bredger, who followed Vasco.
Even with the Palmetto stands partially obscuring our approach, the Hartebeests demonstrated their stereotypical behavior of galloping away when nervous, and by the time we reached the floodplain proper were standing in a group at 600+ yards. Easing gingerly into the hedge of palm fronds, I took my first look at the distant animals. As usual, though I could identify species through my Vortex binocular/rangefinder, and could determine the distance to the animals, I had no idea whether I was looking at worthwhile trophies. Bredger and Vasco knew immediately. Bredger turned to me and whispered, “The bull third from the right is very, very nice. We’ll try and get you a shot.” I had no idea how my Tracker and PH intended to accomplish that, but I knew I needed to be 300 yards closer.
Our problem was that, except for a lone Lala palm, and the occasional 8-10-foot-tall ant (a.k.a., termite) mound, there was no cover between us and the herd of Hartebeests. That’s when we began what I came to think of as our ‘fan dance.’ Retreating further into the stands of Palmettos, Vasco selected a thick-leaved frond, chopping it off at the base with his razor-sharp panga. Inverting the frond, base side up, he sliced partially into the stem from base to leaves causing it to fold into a V, with the leaves wrapping around the bearer of the leaf. Taking point, Vasco headed straight at the Hartebeests with Bredger behind and me, in line with my companions, at the rear. Rather than again cantering away, the Hartebeests stayed in place and stared at the strange vegetation coming their way.
Our progress mesmerized me as much it did the Hartebeests. I thought our fan dance was a recent innovation until reading Agnes Herbert’s description (Two Dianas in Somaliland) of her stalk of a pair of Ostriches. Frustrated by numerous attempts to bag one of these ever-watchful birds on her 1906 Safari into ‘Somaliland’ a.k.a present-day Somalia and Djibouti, her guide and she cut away a mixture of “awful prickly grass, all mixed with thorn spikes.” Agnes used the vicious mixture as a screen while crawling toward the birds who continued picking at the grass in their feeding behavior. Like the Lichtenstein Hartebeest on the open floodplains staring intently at the six-legged palmetto leaf, Agnes relates that the Ostriches “had great doubts about this small tuft that had grown up in a day, mushroom like.” Yet, like Vasco, Bredger and me, Agnes’ crawl resulted in closing the distance on the coveted quarry. Unlike her attempt, we at least did not suffer the wrath of briars and wait-a-bit thorns penetrating clothes and skin.
Reaching 325 yards as indicated by Bredger’s binocular/rangefinder, our fan dance halted. Bredger carefully extended the legs of my 4StableSticks Ultimate Carbon shooting rest, sliding back into line behind Vasco while I placed the .300 Winchester rifle into the forearm and butt cradles of the rest. My first shot knocked the Hartebeest down, with two quick follow-up shots required when he regained his feet. His toughness made a perfect end to an amazing stalk demonstrating the exquisite skill of Vasco and Bredger. As we snapped our photos, I made certain to feature Vasco in the trophy photographs. He was after all, not only a consummate Tracker, but a wonderful dance leader as well.
Mike Arnold is Professor and Head of the Department of Genetics at the University of Georgia and author of the 2022 book, BRINGING BACK THE LIONS: International Hunters, Local Tribespeople, and the Miraculous Rescue of a Doomed Ecosystem in Mozambique. Mike’s book is available for purchase at bringingbackthelions.com, Amazon, and a variety of bookshops.