A few weeks before I arrived in Zimbabwe, my new friend, Stephan, had been asked to come out to a farm and assist with a pack of spotted hyenas that had moved in. Each night, they were killing and only partially eating a fresh head of cattle. The farmer could not sustain such a repeated loss, so when he walked into BIG BUFF hunting store and spoke with Stephan, my friend agreed to come out and see if he could shoot a few of the predators, hoping the others would then move off.
His first weekend trip out, he had, in fact ,shot one of the hyenas using a .300 Win Mag. How tough are they? A single 180 grain soft point ended his streak of cattle killing, but amazingly, the muscular shoulders of the male hyena he dropped with one broadside shot at almost 100 yards did NOT exit the far side! The farmer was so happy, he paid Stephan $1,000 Zim on the spot, or about $100 US dollars.
But the hyenas were back at their ruthless killing again, so Stephan asked me if I’d like to go out on a night hunt for them, as they had just killed one more head of cattle the very day before. So Saturday morning I showed up at his house, where Mostead his groundskeeper, had already loaded up the Toyota pickup with all of the camp gear. Putting my .375 and .223 in the pickup, we left right away to make the one hour drive to the farm.
But the hyenas were back at their ruthless killing again, so Stephan asked me if I’d like to go out on a night hunt for them. They had just killed one more head of cattle the very day before, so Saturday morning I showed up at his house where Mostead, his groundskeeper, had already loaded up the Toyota pickup with all of the camp gear. Putting my .375 and .223 in the pickup, we left right away to make the one hour drive to the farm.
Chapter 1: Hyena Hunting- 101
Hyenas are not like plains game, milling around in the grasses where it’s relatively easy to see them, and then put on a stalk. They are primarily nocturnal, preferring to hunt at night. While they will scavenge on carrion, most of the game they eat is killed by them. Normally, they eat 95% of everything they kill, but the pack of 3 to 5 doing the nightly killing were eating less than a third of the cattle each night.
As soon as we arrived, the farmer took us to the most recent kill that occurred during the prior night. The cow’s organs had been eaten and most of one side of the hindquarters. The remaining...
carcass was still very fresh, so Stephan decided to drag it around the general area to leave its scent, using the Toyota. After doing that, we’d hang it up in a substantial tree, just high enough were they could almost get to it. A few hours before midnight, a single shooter would be placed up in the tree on a branch with a flashlight and a rifle, up until the early hours of the morning. Hopefully, when the pack showed up to feed, the shooter would turn on the light and shoot at least one of the killers if everything goes well. Stephan told me that I’d be the one in the tree!
Chapter 2: Setting The Table For Dinner
About a mile upwind from the site of the prior night’s kill was a small hill with a group of three or four very large trees. The plan was to drag the mangled carcass back and forth through the grassy area, heading upwind to the trees on the hill. There, we would throw the rope over a large, high branch and secure it just out of reach. We had this task done by around 6 pm and headed back to the camp. Just before midnight, we slowly drove back to the trees, spotlighting all along the way hoping to catch the hyenas out in the open grass.
That would be great by me, to spot them in the open, and from the back of the Toyota, whack a few while Mostead is spotlighting them. We had no such luck with plan A as no hyenas were ever seen all the way up to the top of the hill. My stomach was starting to get a little twisted and anxious.
Arriving at the trees, again no hyenas. Nor, upon examination had they visited the carcass yet that night. Shining our lights up into the trees, we determined one had a sturdy, one-foot diameter branch at a good height about twelve feet up and fairly parallel to the ground. Fortunately, there were enough substantial branches that could be used to get up to it… as long as you are a monkey. There will be no ladders or screw in steps like whitetail hunters use… just climbing like a primate for me.
Stephan pointed with his flashlight, going from there to there to there, indicating the most likely path for me to climb. Also note there won’t be a platform to sit on, not even a plank...
nailed to the large branch. So once up, I will have to find a place on the branch which conforms as well as possible to my tender bottom.
He said I need to choose my rifle- either the 375 or the little 223. At first I thought I wanted as much power as possible, and believed I’ll take the .375. But then, I pondered being hit with significant recoil, maybe even falling out only to become dessert for the remaining hyenas. I decided instead to take the .223 with the Barnes X-Bullets, knowing that would give adequate penetration, and I could still hold onto my flashlight with my left hand while shooting, and need not worry about the recoil tipping me off the branch. My dear friend illuminated my path as I climbed and settled in, at first straddling the large branch like a saddle on a horse. He then threw up the end of a rope, to which my rifle was tied, so I could pull it up. Flashlight- check… rifle- check…courage- I think I left it in the Toyota!
Stephan and Mostead bid me farewell, saying they’d be back around 3 or 4 a.m. or sooner, if they hear any shots. They got in the pickup, and slowly drove off, leaving me perched on the branch with a moderate breeze rustling the leaves. This is NOT what I thought hyena hunting would be like at all!
Chapter 3: Out On A Limb
It was a moonless night with heavy clouds blocking out most of the stars. So dark, that I could hardly see my own hand in front of me, I strained to barely make out the outline, of the carcass we’d hung for the hyenas’ dinner. I practiced a few times, holding the flashlight with my left hand against the rifle forend, while aiming below but never turning the light on- this just might work. Straddling the large branch, like I was riding a horse, I began to sense, after just a half hour, that this would not be a comfortable night, especially for my bottom.
As a human, we have our five senses to alert us of danger: sight, hearing, touch, smell, and taste. Sitting on the branch in almost total darkness, worrying about a pack of predators coming to feast on a kill, it soon became apparent that the only sense I could rely upon was hearing. It was interesting to me as my brain began to re-route its thought processes away from all other senses besides hearing. With no other real inputs to the other senses, I became keenly aware of every little sound around me. After an hour or so, every little new sound I...
heard seemed to my imagination, to be coming from approaching hyenas.
My mind was operating on an extremely heightened level of awareness. The game I was awaiting for would not hesitate to kill and eat me; and not necessarily in that order. As time passed, I felt more and more like primal man, having knowingly placed myself in a situation of potentially being in very close proximity to a pack of killers. The load on my brain was extremely taxing, and after only a short time, the pressure I felt was already beginning to take a heavy mental toll on me. Whoever would have thought
that sitting up in a tree, over a hanging carcass, waiting for a pack of hyenas to come in to feed, would’ve been such a physically and mentally exhausting thing to do?
Time went by sooooo very slowly. Checking my watch, what seemed like an hour, turned out to only be twenty-five minutes. When I thought two hours had surely passed, my watch showed it had only been an hour; I stopped looking at my watch after that. Was my perch uncomfortable? You bet! I kept trying again and again to shift my weight. My arse was getting numb. I’d shift my weight to my right cheek, the left cheek, and then both. No matter how I sat though, it was really starting to hurt. This was going to be a long night.
Chapter 4: Mind Games
So many scenarios played out in my mind as I sat out on the limb. At first, I imagined that one lone scout would slink in and then, after feeding for a while, the others would come in one by one. Or maybe, there would be a show of force, and the entire pack would come rushing in at once. Either they would slip in silently and surprise me by their sudden appearance, or make a noticeable ruckus if they stormed in.
For certain, once they began to feed, there would be the sounds of tearing flesh and the breaking of bone. Hyenas even crush that to get at the marrow; did you know they also eat bone? As it turns out, about the only part of an animal they won’t eat are the hooves, horns, and perhaps the head, if it’s too large to be able to crunch on.
In no time at all, every little rustling sound I heard seemed to be a hyena, at least in my mind. Perhaps this was...
because that’s what I wanted to hear. Every time the leaves in one of the other trees rustled, I couldn’t tell if it came from them or from movement on the ground. After what seemed to be an eternity, I saw headlights in the distance coming towards me. It was almost 4 a.m., and Stephan thought if he hadn’t heard a shot by now, it was doubtful that the hyenas would be back to feed on their kill.
I gave him the rundown on how things had gone, how sore my bottom was from sitting on a naked limb for four hours, and how my mind seemed to think every sound I heard was a hyena. But especially how mentally taxing it was to not be able to see anything, and how my brain had shut down all senses except for hearing. I was physically sore but mentally exhausted from the four hour ordeal.
If ever given the chance to do it again, the first thing I’d do is ensure I had at least a folded up blanket to sit on. For my weapon, I believe a semi-auto 12 gauge with an extended magazine full of heavy buckshot with a laser and tactical mounted light would make me feel a lot more ballistically comfortable, should the pack decide to ever come in. I’d never in my life experienced such a grueling waiting game in hopes of surprising a quarry. I’m also pretty sure, that there’s no hurry to do it again, very soon.