My PH Marcus and I with my Blue Wildebeest.

This was the most stressful hunt of all. We had hunted warthogs earlier in the day and had no idea that one of the trackers had knocked the rifle over hitting the scope on the rocks.

We went hunting that afternoon and every shot was a total miss. I was frustrated, my PH was frustrated no one knew what was wrong. We went back to the range and took a couple of shots and found the rifle was shooting way left and we were out of adjustment. We took the only rifle left in camp at that moment, a .243 and went back out in pursuit of the Wildebeest. I had a good rest and a clear shot at 50 yards when he stepped out between the brush. My shot was perfect right on his shoulder, he hunched up then turned and walked back into the brush.

We started tracking him and an hour or so later...still no Wildebeest. We went back and picked up all the trackers and skinners in camp and went back out to search for him. The trackers are amazing and anything you see on TV barely scratches the surface of how well they can follow sign and tracks.

Several hours later we found him laying under a camphor bush. The shot was perfect but the caliber was too small for the game I was hunting.

It ended well, but I was sick the whole time knowing that I should have pressed not to take that rifle and the overwhelming fear that I may have lost my animal in the thick brush.