Jim's Buffalo Story - Part 3

Charlie, a fellow hunter with Dr. Smith and Toma, plus the local chief and his men were within 400 feet of the herd of buffalo, in particular, the big bull. Charlie had been warned not to shoot yet, but his fervor and adrenalin rush for bringing down the bull outweighed counsel from everyone else in the party. Charlie, his body shaking, took a shot anyway.

The shaking of his hands and his body and the distance of the shot impaired his accuracy, certainly changed the trajectory and aim of the bullet. Laban knew they needed to be within a hundred yards. The shot must count. This is the Cape buffalo, not Elsie the Cow! One shot, and only one shot, and you had to make that one shot count that must kill--not wound!

When the thought of missionaries or a missionary come across your mind, the Holy spirit may be calling you to pray for that missionary, who may be in a very dangerous situation--whether from an unseen cobra, mamba, or even a buffalo, not to mention the spiritual battles he or she might be up against. Or it may be a terrible automobile accident, a closed head injury, a serious brush with death.

PRAYER IS A MAJOR WALL OF DEFENSE.

If you think of a missionary, even a quick prayer needs to be sent to the Heavenly Father. It could help save the missionary's life, whether in Europe, South America, or South Africa.

Back to the story. The crack of the 30-06 rang across the Panzi plains! The shock of the bullet hitting the neck of the cape caused the bull to rear backwards like a billy goat on steroids, nearly a ton lifting itself into the still, hot tropical air of the African afternoon. Laban knew a new hunt had now commenced. It would be much more dangerous because of that one shot which did not kill. The bull began to search for the source of his wound; he started moving round. The shot had taken him in the neck, and it was not lethal, but his anger was! He became wild, began to snort in revenge. The rest of the herd knew from his bellowing that it was time for them to run. They bolted for the nearby forest. Gone.

The chief was so upset and afraid fro he knew the anger of the beast--how when angry enough they could even run right into the village, attack, and destroy huts! He wanted to call the hunt off. He said, "imene, beto landa yandi ve. Yandi me luala; yandi kele makasi." We're done. Let's not follow him anymore. He is injured; he is angry.

The chief's command is followed. His word is as good as done. His men obey, and they were ready to return to the car and then to home. However, Laban knew they could not do that, for out here in the plains, the young men would be hunting rats. Young women would be looking for fruit; new gardens would be put in, and women and young children would be taking the path to the local water source. The bull would be an imposing threat to anyone in the area. So Laban said, "No, we must get him."

Then, the wounded bull, not finding his enemy, also bolted toward the forest. Laban offered the chief a small sum of money to keep going. By our standards, it wasn't much at all, but to the chief it was buying power. Toma also strongly demanded that the chief continue the hunt. He also knew that children and women could be killed. The chief agreed to proceed.

Now there was a different kind of great excitement. Dad accepted the fact that Charlie shot too soon, realizing that the man was afraid, and not a hunter. Quickly, checking their guns again to make sure the chambers were full and the safety was on, they began to walk in a hurried fashion to where the buffalo had been shot an the herd had been grazing. Dad put his right hand to his side to be sure that his .45 pistol was in its holster and handy. The Belgian Government allowed him to have a pistol, which was the exception for missionaries, but because he was a doctor, they gave him permission to carry one. Seldom was it used, but it was good for a back up.

Off they went. Toma and the chief arrived first, locating the site where the cape had been shot. They viewed the blood fallen from the wound. It was not till later they saw that it had been shot in the neck. The chief and his hunters pursued the tracks and the trail of blood. The hunt began to get underway at about 8 that morning; it was now approximately 2 in the afternoon. The blotches of blood were not in a constant pattern, so the chief and the hunters had to split up a little bit an look in earnest for the trail.

Every time they found trickles, a hand would go up and Dad, Charlie, and Toma would follow about 20 feet behind. Toma insisted on walking in front of Dad, not only for the sake of their friendship and comradeship,, but he knew that if anything happened to Dad, his people would suffer a great loss. No doctor, no hospital at Kajiji that he had helped Laban build, and so much more. He felt responsible. He would take the charge of that bull if need be.

The hot sun continued to beat upon them, but their lives were now more in danger than ever. They walked, realizing that the big buffalo could be lying down in the grass, just waiting for them. They one who wounds so frequently is the one who is attacked. Animals often sense their attacker.

Senses are frighteningly alive. Any noise, any wind blowing the waist high grass could mean it rising to charge.

As they continued to follow, they saw that the buffalo was leading them into the forest. Remember that this is not jungle, but forest. There are trees, but not a lot of vines, bramble, or thickets. However, there are smaller bushes, that the buffalo could be hiding behind or under. Of octagonal shape, the buffalo had now entered on the far right lower side.

Tracking him with guns ready and the .45 back up pistol, thoughts of the family, the ministry, and their futures came to the mind, but immediately these thoughts were sent away because at any moment, they could encounter the waiting cape. Whispered prayers, and conscious trust in the Lord were braided with the thrill of the moment plus the needed steak for those waiting back home, some of whom had traveled hundreds of miles for this conference. "Let us get this buffalo, Lord. You know the need; may no one be maimed or killed, please."

The stillness was roaring in their ears, the shuffling of the leaves was deafening, and the bending and breaking of the small branches now and then were all realities with which they had to deal. Ears were tuned, realizing it will be a very loud attack by the cape.

The long end of the octagon began to turn to the left, and all of a sudden there in front of them staring them in the face, with stomping hooves, stood the rest of the herd that ran into the forest.

To be continued. Tomorrow the story ends.