the direction. Usually I lead, setting my pace. Not today. I could see his posture change. He walked upright, carrying the rifle with confidence. His demeanour spoke of purpose. I was inordinately proud of him.
The Impala were in the rut, and the rams had been at it all night. We could hear sev- eral territorial rams warning off competi- tors. When we reached the huge termite mound we veered off to the north, at right angles to the passage and the fence. At one point we encountered increasingly thick thorn. The krokodé ¡s had infiltrated fur- ther that I had anticipated. The going be- came tough, but he kept going. At last the bush opened up, revealing the passage to our front, just like we had planned. We stood perfectly still, listening. The vapour from our lungs created white ghostlike beards around our faces. I briefly thought this was nature's way of validating the changing relationship between us. We of the beard. I quietly indicated to him that we should sit down. He selected a spot against an ancient Witgat. So began our vigil.
Just after first light we heard the wire fence jingling, and we knew that the first Impala had arrived. The boy took the binoculars and carefully approached the fence. He crept up to a lone katbos, from where he could observe the passage to the left and right without being seen. He could scarcely conceal his excitement when he came back. He had seen several impala and a huge ram, which had hornslike a Lechwe? We worked out the distance to the Impala, and esti- mated them to be about half a kilometre away. I told him to set a course which would bring us about 150 meters from them. He silently nodded and began his approach. We walked quietly, stopping often. I could sense his plan. He would fall back from the fence
and then strike out west, after which he would go north again, hopefully emerging close enough to the impala for a chance at a shot.
I was surprised to see that he kept a steady line, and we made slow but useful progress. During one of our stops he gave me the wa- ter bottle. I accepted it gratefully. We did not speak of my eternal thirst. He was as much in tune with the needs of his fellow hunter as he was with this bush.
Presently we changed course. Then he stopped. He indicated silently, and it took me a few seconds to see the oxpeckers cre- ating a fuss on the overhead power line. He quietly whispered that those birds are al- ways associated with game, and that the impala had to be very close. We got rid of most of our kit, and he started his crawl for- ward. I was a short distance behind. I need not have worried about the rifle. He had it cradled safely in his arms. He scanned to the right first, and when he gave me the all clear I crawled up to the brush, next to him. Very carefully he scanned to our left. His smile gave it all away. I got into position and as I put the glasses up, the impala jumped into focus. The ewes stood next to the fence while the territorial ram was leaping to and fro over the fence, desperate for some un- decided ewes to join him. Clearly he had other things on his mind. He was totally un- aware of us, barely 150 meters away. The ewes were bundled up, not offering a clear target. The ram was out of bounds, not be- cause of any instruction by me, but because the boy had said so. I was impressed.
The boy indicated with his eyes and I saw a young knyphoring standing apart from the ewes some distance off. He was walking
I Shoot and Fish E-Zine December 2011
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