Dave and Sue(E-Mail address only by request for security reasons.)A Ballisy Gemsbok
We had been hunting for a good quality Gemsbok for several days. Tino and our trackers from T.G. Safaris had been hunting hard for us. They had eyes that could see a flea on a cockroach at 400 yards. They could see a large breasted lady at 3000 yards. They could track a Kudu sperm through a huge Elephant dung deposit, or a dung deposit on a sperm of any species!
Unfortunately the ones we saw were either too small or presented only their colorful running rump for us to admire. Finally I had a quick shot. I was cocky from the record waterbuck taken with one shot at 300 yards-measured with our laser range finder. I was boastful (still am!!), I was cock sure, and I could hit anything, the hunting God was smiling on me. He loved the exploding Guinea Hen that I had sacrificed to him (her?).
I pulled up and promptly blew it. I shot as I swung the faithful Ultra Light resulting in a shot that was too high, and too far back. Near the spine but not in the spine.
That was what I came to know. But at the shot down went the Gemsbok. Of course! I reached around to slap myself on the back and nearly shot the transmission out of our Land Rover. I didn't keep the gun on him. Oh no. I jumped down to admire him. He responded by getting up and running away, giving us the hoof as he ran off.
What happened next was 1 ½ days of hell. We tracked him until dark. Blood every once in awhile, dropped by a heathen animal hell bent on bringing up to the brink of gibbering insanity. I dreamed of Gemsbok, the dog looked like a Gemsbok. Hell even my wife looked like a Gemsbok.
The next day was the same. Looking and looking, and just as we were ready to give up that hellish beast would egg us on with a drop of blood. Oh fiendish fiend!! I continued to hallucinate. Tino's girlfriend had some Gemsbok genes in her genetic past; I was sure.
We finally moved on and started hunting other animals. I decided however that I would hunt for another Gemsbok. Not only were they a very difficult animal to hunt, but I was determined now to bring havoc and revenge from the Hunting God down upon that species. I swore that if I saw another one I was going to kick him in the balls. A classic sign of frustration.
My wife and I shot the animals on our "to do list" so we started to look for another Gemsbok on which to exact my revenge.
There in a narrow dirt track stood my nemesis- that dreaded animal the Gemsbok. I should mention they are scrappy and use their 3 foot needle like horns to good effect, frequently killing their sexual competitors or the wayward mischievous lion. I pulled up and shot. A difficult shot since he was standing steeply quarting away from us. Strange that he was just standing there. He was hit!! He ran into the bush but I could still see him standing and then falling and trying to get up. But this time I kept my gun on him. Finally he lay quite and Tino motioned me to come to his side next to the Gemsbok.
I ran up, and seeing my nemesis at a disadvantage (he looked dead) I kicked him in the balls (i.e. testicles) He rose up and took a stab at my testicles. Having a personal agenda my wife pulled me safely away from a life of singing in the soprano range. Then he fell back dead. There was an old infected wound exactly in the right spot. Indeed this was the Gemsbok I had originally wounded. Thank you hunting God.
Now I have hunted frequently in the Artic with the Inuit. They honor the animals they hunt by saying a prayer over the fallen animal. Fine. Me. I kicked him in the balls again.
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