Issue link: http://www.e-digitaleditions.com/i/433799
S P O R T I N G C L A S S I C S 1 5 3 Cockatoos woke the camp at dawn, and we headed for a long meadow where we'd found lots of buffalo the year before. When I spotted a mature bull grazing in an open field, I decided to try the stalk despite the lack of cover. The grass, though, obscured his vision when he put his head down to feed, and that's when I moved. It took me nearly an hour to approach within 20 yards, at which point I simply needed the bull to turn broadside. Unfortunately, that's when he noticed me, initiating another buffalo stare. I spent an uncomfortable 20 minutes fighting cramps and muscle fatigue, moving nothing but my eyes. Fortunately, the breeze remained steady in my face. When the bull finally dismissed me and started to feed again, he actually came toward me. The animal was plenty close enough, but I still needed him to turn. When he did, I sent a heavy arrow on its way and watched the bull collapse in plain sight a few seconds later. idea on any big game animal, especially a one-ton beast with thick hide and heavy ribs between the arrow and the boiler room. Neither hunter nor hunted moved and neither did I, for 30 minutes by my watch. You never know how hard it is to remain frozen in one position for half an hour until you've had to do it. Finally, the buffalo had had enough. But instead of spinning and running off as we'd seen others do, he made a leisurely turn and showed his ribcage. Big mistake. Bill's recurve sent an arrow straight into the bull's heart, and soon we were up to our armpits in the team's first buffalo. I admit that it felt odd to make that initial trip while unable to hunt, but I still enjoyed the experience. Among other things, I fed camp with barramundi taken with my fly rod, dodged a few saltwater crocodiles, and learned a lot about an exotic, unfamiliar habitat. I also learned a lot about Asiatic buffalo, knowledge that would prove highly useful when I returned the following year with a bow and doctor's clearance to use it. A fter being limited to observer status on the first trip, I wasn't feeling particularly picky about horn size once I returned with a bow in my hand. We arrived in camp to find a crocodile lying next to the barbie. Exhausted by travel, I tumbled into bed as soon as we chased him back into the creek. Freezing a hunter with a menacing stare, this bull eventually wandered off without offering a shot. Opposite: Traditional bowhunter Denny Sturgis Jr. makes a final approach but completely whiffed from 20 yards. Shot placement is crucial. The arrow in the side of this retreating bull looks like it's in just the right place. It wasn't.