It was raining. The whole place was covered with a lush carpet of green. It looked so beautiful. The thing is it only looked beautiful. It smelled of swamp & still water. There was not a single dry patch of land to stand on. The so humid air & the sweat from your continuously perspiring body made it sure that you didn’t had a single dry patch on your body as well. ‘Blend with the Nature’ some might jest. Believe me when I say, “Africa is not a pleasant place to be in rains.”
It is uncomfortable at the start. Slowly, but steadily when you start getting accustomed to the damp surroundings; you realize that the physical matter of your body isn’t as flexible as your mind, neither is it strengthened by your will power. The point being your skin gets red, a little puffy & develops rashes where it comes in with constant contact of what all ‘water proofing’ clothing you are wearing. The remaining exposed parts which don’t have to undergo this torture are tormented by the mosquitoes. If your will power is really as strong as you boast it to others, you would be very carefully weighing which is better, the skin rashes on the covered parts or the mosquito bites on the exposed part. The weaker mortals would by now of course; be vacillating between the different methods they have at their disposal to commit painless suicide.
And for all this trouble all I could find around was alligators, Boas & ant-eaters.
I smiled at my own thoughts. I had made a terrible choice of season for my last visit. However, the experience gave me the leverage to form proper decisions this once. I felt content, No; that would be an understatement. I was content. “The holidays can’t get better than this” I thought.
Dressed in brown khakis, full sleeved sweatshirt; trying to blend in with the surroundings I lay there quietly. I was actually enjoying the sweet sun on my back, the cool, damp breeze on my face. Slowly absorbing, relishing the beauty around me. My whole body was relaxed but like the mind of a trained ninja my senses were alert; I was keenly aware of every sound in my vicinity. The brushing of wind against the branches, the rustling of dry, dead leaves, the soft click of every twig being snapped, I could hear everything. This is something one has to learn early in my profession. “To shoot an animal, one should have the instincts of the animal” they used to say in my training workshops.
Kathy always hated it. She neither had the patience nor the will power to withstand the rigors of the sport. Adding more to my woes was her extreme environmentalist attitude. According to her, we, both the hunters & the photographers, were a potential threat to the delicate balance of wild life. She was of the opinion that most of us who shot never understood ‘Why we shoot & what we shoot?” She would often quote Paul Rodriguez
“Hunting is not a sport. In a sport, both sides should know they're in the game.”
I had tried countless number of times to get her interested in the sport by explaining her the intricacies of tracking, silently following the animal & getting the best shot, without ruining the trophy or putting yourself in danger. Tired after umpteen attempts, I had given upon her to appreciate the thrill of the sport. It had taken me quite a while to persuade her to accompany me to this trip.
I looked towards Kathy, She was enjoying it; the happiness showed on her face. She was continuously scanning the landscape for any activity. I knew how it felt; the first trip in the wilderness of Africa. She must have felt my eyes on her, for she turned towards me. I gave her a smile, a nod & turned back, leaving her to scan the landscape. I had closed my eyes, relaxed, was already drowsy when I heard it.
The Bontebok is one of the majestic animals of Africa. Chocolate brown in color with a white stripe from forehead to nose and an even whiter underbelly, they were once found in abundance in Africa. Extensively hunted for their lyre shaped, ringed horns they are now more or less extinct in the wild. It was this rare trophy which had vowed me to the wilderness twice this year.
Silently, I repositioned myself, lying propped on my forearms, my body weight entirely supported on my shoulders. Though not a very comfortable position for the novice any wild-life enthusiast worth his salt would have mastered the technique of lying in this position for long hours. I stole a glance at Kathy, she had spotted the antelope by now; & could barely restrain her excitement. I signaled her for silence.
I always believed that it’s the thrill of the hunting that is more fascinating than the actual trophy. Well, I still do believe it, but a Bontebok is a trophy worth exchanging an arm for. I prepared myself. I unlocked the trigger, removed the cover from the lens & prepared for the kill. I wanted the cleanest shot possible. The Bontebok displays a distinctive character of jumping high in air before running up to a speed of 50 mph, popularly called stotting. Shooting a stotting Bontebok is extremely difficult and there are only a handful of people in the world who have achieved the feat.
Unlike others, I had shifted to autos not because I trusted them more than my judgment, but because the speed they provided allowed me more chances of a second shot. Squeezing the trigger would cause a low sound, inaudible to the normal ears, but enough for the antelope to stot. It was a long shot but I was ready. I zeroed in on the kill, & adjusted the optics for the last time. The habit learned over the long years had triggered my mind to reduce the breathing rate the moment I had spotted the Bontebok. Shooting between breaths causes the least shake & is known to enhance the chance of a clean shot by almost 50%. I slowly let out the air from my lungs & pressed the shutter.
A clean shot, the click made the Bontebok jump in the air almost half a meter & I pressed the trigger for the second time. The shutter opened at the correct time & the Bontebok froze in mid air. I had got what I wanted, the assignment was complete; the editor would be quite happy. I pushed away my D200 with the 600 mm lens & reached for the second one. The 600 mm lens used for wild life photography is quite heavy compared to what I was working with now. I zeroed on the puzzled Bontebok once more, took a deep breath & pressed the trigger.
A click & the Bontebok froze in mid air again. Another clean shot! It then fell straight down. I was always amazed how much a shot can be muffled with the use of modern silencers. I shouldered the Springfield. I ran towards the antelope, unsheathing my hunting knife in the run. By the time Kathy had reached me, I had bleeded the antelope. I put a cut on the underbelly of the Bontebok & started gutting it.
“How could you kill it; you promised me there will be no shooting on this trip… Oh God, how could you kill something so beautiful?”
I looked at her with contempt “You mean it would have been ok to kill it if it would have been ugly?”
P.S –
• D200 is a premium SLR of Nikon series.
• Springfield is a hunting rifle often used to hunt bucks, antelopes &
deer.
• Bontebok is an endangered antelope species. There was a time when
only 17 were left in the world, but the species has now recovered.
• African government gives legal license for hunting in order to
maintain the proper balance between species. The revenue
generated is then used for different wild life projects.
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