Limpopo Safari - Day Two. Impala!

Woken by a soft knock on the door, I was up and dressed and at the breakfast table in under five minutes.  My legs were cramped from the day's previous hiking, with significantly more vertical component than I'm used to, coupled with some dehydration, so I started chugging water and electrolytes right away.  Kobus, my guide, had us on some kudu tracks within an hour, and we started stalking through the thick Limpopo brush yet again, my legs loosening up nicely.  It was a cool morning, only plus seven, but I was generating more than enough heat.  We managed to keep the wind in our favour but could not close on the big male, the sun was getting high and the heat was rapidly becoming uncomfortable, so we began our hike out, having only seen a few kudu females and one small male.   Kobus spotted a herd of impala, and we stalked crosswind to about seventy yards.  The herd was completely unaware of our presence, and the male, while no record, was a nice representative of the species, and was standing perfectly broadside.  I gently placed the crosshairs just above his heart, and squeezed the trigger.  The herd broke to the shot, not knowing where it had come from, heading directly for us, before veering off.  The male had dropped in his tracks. 

After a short break, letting the sun drop a tad closer to the horizon, we headed out after the elusive grey ghost once again, and after an hour, we spotted some Grant's Hartebeest and elected to make yet another stalk.  It was slow going, first moving out of view and downwind, and we crept ever carefully towards the herd.  Unfortunately all the Hartebeest turned out to be females, but there was a lone zebra stallion with the herd.  Kobus said he was quite old, and as he'd obviously been driven from his own herd, he didn't have long to live.  His hide looked beautiful, so we closed to ninety yards and I braced my rifle against a tree.  A lone Hartebeest blocked the shot, so we waited until he moved off, and with the old zebra quartering away, I once again placed the reticle over his heart and squeezed off the second shot of the day.  He didn't quite drop like the impala, kicking his legs up high and jumping about,  but within seconds, he dropped within three feet from where I first shot him.  The sun was setting, so we called for the truck, shook hands and took some quick photos.  It was far and away the most amazing day of hunting in my life.