Lion Hunting In the Serengeti - With a Twist in the Tale

A hunter in Africa finds a king of the jungle and a master of the Serengeti Note - Please read with an open mind. Early bias with this tale will go unrewarded.

The shake was at 3am, Takunda's hand reached under the canvas and tugged at my sleeping bag. The sleep had been restless, perched in a tent above a Land Rover's roof the sound of the Serengeti was ever present. Lions could be heard roaring well off into the distance, elephants as well plus monkeys could be heard about a mile off. This now really felt like Africa.

Already dressed, I slid off my roof quarters landing on the ground to greet a day two years in the making. No fire could be made so a water bottle and two protein bars were breakfast. Takunda rolled up his swag lying on the desert floor and placed it under the Land Rover.

I grabbed my pack and checked my rifle. The rifle was a Tikka Bolt Action four shot 270 calibre Winchester centrefire rifle.  My mind flashed back home to Australia, to the Lascelles pub in the middle of Victoria, Mallee country, wheat country. I’d worked the harvest season in the largest wheat belt in the southern hemisphere saving money for a hunt of a lifetime. The pub was old but the beer was cold.  A bloke at sitting at the bar, peeling the label off his ice cold beer listened intently to my future hunting plans, telling me that a 270 Winchester rifle was next to useless, as useless as tits on a male bull pig for big game hunting were his exact words. What I needed was at least a 308 Winchester. I asked this old timer what he'd based this on and he thumped his fist on the bar yelling in a sarcastic tone. “Haven't you seen Daktari .... Boy?”

Takunda brought me back to reality, tugging my sleeve and in a low voice saying "let's go boss".  A three hour walk awaited us. A waning crescent moon provided minimal light but Takunda had done this trip hundreds of times before, he knew every track, every turn, and every cackle of hyenas to bypass, every tree and every rock.

Two hours in Takunda stopped and raised his hand, a group of giraffes, or a tower to be more exact was off to our left about to cross our path. We stood by an old umbrella tree and waited as they walked past, one stopping and looking at us with more distain then surprise. Leaning against the tree, Takunda offered a canteen of water which I happily accepted. This hunt was happening and was now real. It had cost considerable funds and a reasonable percentage was to go to Takunda’s village. I asked him what the money would bring. Takunda commenced to tell me this story:

The Maasai village was very poor, very Spartan. The women of the tribe had to cart water from the river three miles away, one or two buckets or containers at a time, a very labour intensive and laborious chore. One fine cloudless day three years ago an aid agency van came and said they'd sink a bore close to the village, providing a tank, water pump and therefore fresh water to the village. The chief of the village was not keen on the idea but the other elders convinced him it would be a good idea. Drought proofing the village and provision of more water for stock, which could then be walked to market, were of considerable benefit.

Weeks later in a cloud of dust, three trucks appeared to sink the bore, install the tank and commission the pump. This modern convenience was welcomed by all in the village, especially those who undertook the everyday trek for water.

Then one day a younger male fraternised with a young tribal women.  In a fit of rage the chief said this was because of idle hands. He decreed that the women trek to the river for water each day once more. The next morning the tank was up ended and doorway cut into it. This became the chief's new home. In the weeks that followed he sold the pump to a member of a local village nearby who mounted it to a hand cart making it motorised.

The loss of this access to clean water hit hard. The next two summers were dry, very dry; the river lowered and was soon a ribbon of green slime. The water quality was poor and soon disease hit. The misery was non selective, elders, infants and even the chief fell to its cruel hand. Takunda's dad was made the new chief and his son's first task was to have a new tank and pump re-installed. Takunda walked five days and four nights to the city of Dodoma, Tanzania. Walking into the modern office and meeting people in suits was very daunting. The aid agencies listened with empathy but were non committal. Takunda's village had been ticked off the aid list. The agencies Key Performance Indicators had been met for this zone and the hydro zone targets for this year were in other regions. Takunda’s eyes began to moist. He understood that their village had been given this and destroyed it but people of his tribe had lost their lives. Takunda rose from his chair thanked the people and left the room. Walking from the building a women from the room ran up to him. “Don't give up,” she said. “We have your details. Try again in one year. Don’t give up”.

With that Takunda pushed off the umbrella tree, avoided eye contact and started walking. “Let’s go boss..!” We proceeded on; the sun was starting to penetrate the sky. It was about 30 minutes to sunrise but already the sky had a glow to the east.

With 20 minutes to go to get to the pride’s location, the excitement and adrenalin began to build; my hand reached back and felt my slung rifle, subconsciously checking that the bolt was still locked. We were now in the lion's territory. I was armed, Takunda was not. He carried a four foot long straight stick from a Marula tree. Its handle polished smooth from years of service.  Coming to a small rise, we crouched and peered over, the twilight enabled about 500 metres of visibility and the pride of lions could be clearly seen. That said the male lion was not present. Where was here? Takunda was not perturbed, his smile showing all was well. He knew he'd be around.

I took off my rifles telescopic sight covers and placed them in a side pocket of my pack. This was it. Two years of saving, of hard work, planning and coordination. The next two hours would determine if I'd go home happy or empty handed. After surveying the Serengeti plateau, Takunda nodded. For now, this was where he stayed.

The time had come. Sliding my rifle from my shoulder, I slid down the small rocky incline. I was now on the plain and only 400 metres from the target. The plan was to get within 100 metres before taking the shot; I crawled prone past small clumps of red grass using any cover, no matter how small to get to my goal. The sun was starting to rise directly behind my back; there was a slight breeze into my face, taking my scent away from the pride. Conditions were perfect. 

In the morning sun, the pride was beginning to stir, their small rocking outcrop becoming a hive of movement. Four to five Lionesses were stretching, watching their young whilst soaking up the morning’s sun. I pushed forward, finally getting to within 100 metres of their rocky outcrop and positioning behind a toothbrush tree for cover.

I lay transfixed watching the pride. Juvenile males were beginning to stir, stretching, and arching their backs whilst looking out over the plains. Looking through my rifle scope I put the crosshairs over selected lions, young and old, whilst thinking where was the king of the jungle? Where was my prize?

Twenty minutes ticked by, I lay behind my tree considering my vulnerability. My throat was dry, in the excitement of the morning I hadn't rehydrated since separating from Takunda. Contemplating my vulnerability on the plain, my mind wandered back to the pub in the Mallee.  The old timer cradling a new cold beer was a font of all knowledge with big game hunting. "Bolt action rifle only you say?” he said "No semi automatic, no side arm and you are going into their territory, within 100 metres you say?" Surveying my wiry frame up and down he looked past the ironbark timber bar and said dryly “I hope they like lean cuisine sonny"

With this running through my mind and the dominant male lion not sighted, a stupid new thought entered my mind. The lion wasn’t with his pride because he was right behind me, looking down on me, ready to pounce! Here I was laying prone, gun in front of me with no ability to save myself. Maybe the old timer was right; maybe I'd underestimated my firepower requirements. I shook off this stupid thought and looked at the pride once more, then took a quick look over my shoulder. 

The sun was getting higher in the sky and as the minutes ticked by my patience was rewarded. The king of the jungle, the master of the pride had appeared. Standing proudly at the rocky outcrop’s highest point the lion was a scene of majestic authority.  Disturbingly he was staring straight in my direction, almost as if his eyes were boring right at me. I was confident he hadn't seen me. I'd made no movement, the wind was in my favour and the sun was right behind me. This was the moment I waited so long for.  I raised my rifle and slowly worked the bolt, clicked the safety off and looking through the telescopic sight, I centred the cross hairs squarely on the lion's forehead, right between the eyes. The shot would be taken; the distance and weapon ensured a kill shot. Lowering my breathing, I gently squeezed the trigger and "Click" the firing pin struck an empty chamber.  I then slowly reached into my backpack and removed my camera and took some pictures of the lion, the “kill”, the pride and surroundings. Mission accomplished.  I lay on my back looking up at the sky. This was the best day of my life.

Now was the hardest part, the extraction. I waited another five minutes and the lion lost interest in looking in my direction. I was confident the lion hadn't seen me as its ears never flickered when the firing pin had discharged on an empty chamber and it was soon walking amongst its pride rubbing against family members, small roars emanating from this beast.

I turned and with a mind breaking crawl I completed the long journey back to the incline and soon I was standing along alongside Takunda. He was all smiles, we shook hands, we patted each other on the back and I retold the story of the past hour. We then commenced the long walk back to camp.

Back at camp I looked in the driver’s side window of the Land Rover. The dusty window glass reflection was of a happy man. A man with matted hair, furry teeth and a face covered in dust. Takunda walked up behind me and said “You are now a hunter of the Serengeti..!” “You have helped my village greatly my friend, but now I must depart” and with that he grabbed his Marula tree stick and swag from under the vehicle and walked off across the Serengeti.

I stood watching Takunda depart. I’d came to Africa to find a king of the jungle, a master of the Serengeti and I’d found both and each would enjoy the sun and warmth of a new day.

Author's Note

This is a fictional story.

Reviews

[emmajoy]

' Twenty minutes ticked by, I lay behind my tree considering my vulnerability. My throat was dry, in the excitement of the morning I hadn't rehydrated since separating from Takunda. Contemplating my vulnerability on the plain, my mind wandered back to the pub in the Mallee. The old timer cradling a new cold beer was a font of all knowledge with big game hunting. "Bolt action rifle only you say?” he said "No semi automatic, no side arm and you are going into their territory, within 100 metres you say?" Surveying my wiry frame up and down he looked past the ironbark timber bar and said dryly “I hope they like lean cuisine sonny" '

For me, the above is this post's core.. others will disagree, of course.

This is a convoluted but wonderful story! It's full of differences far removed from the little place i call home. And, and.. you've just flown me off and away to the Serengetti's exceptional history, atmosphere and - moment!

There's so much detail given, at first seemingly too much, but then as the tale picks up pace, it all adds to what is coming nearer and nearer.. in fact i went back to a few places to double check.. then moved forward again to make more sense in this mind.. a woman's mind - which knows nothing about rifles or indeed hunting.

I hope a great many people will read and enjoy.. and benefit, from what you've laid so smoothly and graphically into the public domain.