ABOUT ME

It was after I hit two pigs with one shot that I was given the title, in jest, of the great white hunter.

It may not be the ideal configuration for pigs but my bolt-action Parker-Hale Deluxe in .270 Winchester was my favourite rifle and I had confidence in it and confidence in my own ability to make it perform.

The two boars hesitated for a moment before thinking about bolting again. The .270 roared and sent a 130gn projectile through the head of the first pig, into the pig behind it, busting it’s shoulders. Spectators were suitably impressed (as was I) and for the next few days I wore the title, in jest no less, of “The Great White Hunter”. The name sort of stuck after that. Over the next few months I wondered about these men and  I began to investigate who the Great White Hunters were. For most people names like “Karamojo” Bell spring to mind when one uses the term, but it was the lesser known Harry Wolhuter that captured my imagination.

ONE OF THE GREAT WHITE HUNTERS

A game ranger in the Sabi Game Reserve of Africa in the era of the Boer War, Harry Wolhuter shares his experiences in his autobiography “Memories Of A Game Ranger”. It is a damn good read and I would recommend it to the interested reader. It is the story related below that I found most interesting.

Arriving at an empty water hole around dusk, the ranger was forced to push on in hope of finding water further away but the hunter and his horse were inconvenienced by the ambush of two lions. The horse managed to shake the lion free that had locked onto its hindquarters however the rider was not so fortunate. Wolhuter found himself in the mouth a lion being dragged along by his right shoulder. One lion had continued it’s pursuit of the horse while the other had a hold on Harry. His faithful dog “Bull”, still thinking his master was on the horse, chased the lion after the horse.

He recounted the intense physical pain that he felt with the big cat's powerful jaws crunching the bones in his shoulder. This agony was only surpassed by the mental anguish of knowing that he was soon to become the lions meal. He only hoped for a quick death before they began consuming their catch. He related that lions where frequently known to overlook such pleasantries!

The ranger thought that his life was at an end when he began to wonder if there was anything that he could do to stop the seemingly inevitable. Suddenly Wolhuter remembered his trusty hunting knife that sat in a loosely fitting sheath on his belt. On two previous occasions it had fallen out of the sheath and the chances of it still being there after being attacked, mauled, and dragged along by one’s shoulder, seemed a very remote possibility. The ranger tried to move into a better position and with his left arm around behind him and with indescribable joy, felt the handle of the knife. It was still there!  Then with planning, care and precision that only the great men are capable of during such seemingly hopeless times, he made two quick stabs behind the lions shoulder and a third stab to the neck. If he got this wrong, death for him was certain. He only had one chance to back himself and win!

The big cat was taken unaware by the unexpected attack, and dropped Wolhuter as blood gushed over it’s intended meal. The beast slipped away into the darkness. The hunter now had to act quickly for his ordeal was not over yet. He needed a fire to keep other carnivores at bay lest he fall prey to them as well. With his right arm hanging limp and the dew on the grass, he found it impossible to strike a match. Finding a suitable tree that he could climb to safety became his priority. He managed to drag himself with on good arm to a height of 4 metres. Once there, bleeding profusely, he could hear the moans of a lion dying! The lion that he had stabbed.

The second lion was unsuccessful with the horse and returned to the scene. It could smell the blood at the base of the tree and set about picking up where it’s associate had left off. Harry was still not safe and again feared for his life. The ranger heard his faithful friend in the distance and called out to Bull. The dog kept the lion at bay for several hours until help arrived.

Wolhuter's knife and the skin of the lion that attacked him

on display at Skukuza Camp, Kruger National Park.

Rather than his ability with a firearm, it is the character of the man that far more impresses me. The “never-say-die” attitude, tenacity for life, courage in the face of opposition, determination and resourcefulness of this man are what I identify with. These are the qualities that make him great.