African Bowhunt With Tony Dukes
Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Hunt Info | Hunt Equipment |

DAY TWO:  Quest For The Kudu

I'd  often heard that the night African sky had to be seen to believed, and remembered Hemmingway's colorful descriptions in "The green hills of Africa" a book written about his long, hard quest for kudu. It was true, a night sky of stars and brilliance like I've never seen. This country is captivating in every aspect.

Today I was a bit more comfortable with a wool sweater on under my camo. I turned to Riaan and said "I feel one comin'', in my most silent Texas accent. Ten minutes later I noticed that ever familiar, slight movement in the brush. Eland, I thought as the animal appeared high above the stunted thorn bushes. 

Wrong, kudu! 

It was happening, my heart started banging like a marching drum and my breath shortened. Two bulls, majestic against the steel grey color of the wall of thorns that surrounded the water. I took a photo and put my camera down and grabbed my bow although they were still 70 yards out, and there they stayed for a half hour, surveying the water hole, scarcely moving, intent on observation. 

The largest bull stopped at about 50 yards broadside. Riann said, he's not going to come in you'd better shoot. 

Although I'd made the exact shot on the smaller impala, I was hesitant. Again my pro hunter urged me, I drew my bow, placed the 40 yard pin on top of the kudu's back, took a deep breath ........ and I let my bow down. Something just didn't feel right. I know some of you can identify. I had come 10,000 miles to hunt the animal of my dreams, had the rare opportunity many hunters never get, and let it go. It just felt like the right thing to do. I wasn't worried about haunting regrets, again something that would not have happened in my earlier bowhunting days, gettin' older aint so bad.

Warthogs casually walked by within yards as to comfort me. One was a pretty nice boar maybe 9 inch tusks. I was consumed with thought of the kudu, the hogs had no effect as I maintained my vigilant surveying of the bush. The sun was hot and beating against the bush as the noon hour was approaching. A small band of impala, urged by the parching sun made their way directly to the water. 

Behind them, kudu! The bulls were back, again they hung up in the brush waiting for signs of danger.  The sound of the impala inhaling water seemed to draw the biggest bull out of the brush, again he stopped at 50 yards -- again I passed. 

He walked all the way around the waterhole and I took a picture of him coming in from my left. I wanted to draw as he closed the 30 yard mark, but the head on angle was wrong. For the first time in years I thought an animal was going to hear my heart pounding! 

He was close, real close, at 15 yards, angling toward me he lowered his head to water. I drew and released without conscious memory of pin placement. His upper profile disappeared as if he was never there! He lay completely still, collapsed in a silent pile of beautiful stripped tan hair. The arrow had severed his spine as it headed to the heart, lung area. Again my guides face was blank, again he'd not heard the arrow, but witnessed the animal dropping in it's tracks. Time stood still as we began to breath again and large smiles took form on our silent faces.

They say the two white marks on the face of  kudu is where God touched them, I would be prone to agree. A mature bull takes 15 years to mature and arguably make the most handsome, regal horned trophy in the world. This day was the most significant day of my 40 years of hunting. This would've been my father's 84th birthday. The time I killed the bull the exact time my dad had passed. This may or may not seem like appropriate bowhunting narration to you but I find it part of the magic. 

That morning before breakfast, we took the time to give thanks. I  added to the prayer, that God would open up a window for the man that had given me the gift of hunting and love of nature to watch my hunt. I dedicated the day's hunt to my dad, Nelson Dukes, and had hugged my brother as we gathered our gear and headed into the bushveld. Coincidence? Providence? You can call it what you want, but for me God appears in everything wonderful when I give him the opportunity. Both my "fathers" stood beside me this magic day in Africa.

Tony Dukes and his Kudu Bull taken on Day #2 of his June African Bowhunt.

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Hunt Info | Hunt Equipment |

Sponsors For The 2003 African Bowhunt
A note of appreciation to the sponsors that backed me on my first African bowhunt. (TonyDukes):
 Alpine Archery (bow), Magnus Broadheads (broadheads), Sims Vibration Laboratory (limb savers), Pro Release (release aid), Eze-Eye (arrow wraps), Montana Black Gold (bow sight), Bododle (arrow rests), LaCross Boots (rubber boots), Nikon (binoculars), Robinson Outdoors (Scent Shield) , Game Tracker (arrows) and Freddie Bear Sports (Sticks N' Limbs camouflage) and Bowhunting.net.