By Rean SteenkampI
t was more than a decade and a half ago that I set off to
Lichtenburg, in the North-West Province of South Africa,
to hunt a springbok with my first compound bow, a PSE
Stingray. I was to hunt on Oom Tinus Diedericks’s farm.
I would be the first hunter to kill an animal with a bow and
arrow on his farm, which placed a heavy burden on my shoul-
ders – a rookie who had not killed any game with a bow yet. A
blind had been constructed a short while before for the purpose
of my hunt.
After I had sat in the blind for nearly a day, a few springbok
ewes finally came in. The problem was, I was allowed to shoot
only rams! Nick Smit, who was acting as my PH, was waiting
with me in the blind. He was a rif le hunter and wanted to see at
first hand what a bow could do. Nick is Oom Tinus’s son-in-law
and the brother of my friend Johan Smit.
When it seemed the day would end soon and no rams would
be following the ewes, Nick quickly phoned Oom Tinus to find
out whether a ewe was fair game. It was, and I got the order to
shoot quickly, since it was close to dusk. I chose the biggest
ewe and started drawing my bow. However, for some reason the
cam would not roll over – I could not draw the bow! I checked
whether something stuck in the cam, but it was clean. The prob-
lem was buck fever! I was in such a shaken state that I could not
garner enough strength to draw the bow.I relaxed, took a few deep breaths and tried again. This time
I was successful. I aimed and let loose the arrow. I don’t think I
remembered to pick a spot and I did not know much about string
jumping, but the arrow smacked into the animal. It promptly
took off. When Oom Tinus arrived we picked up the arrow and
to my dismay it smelled of stomach f luid. It certainly wasn’t a
good shot. Darkness set in soon and we found no blood spoor. I
had to leave for Pretoria, but Nick and Oom Tinus promised to
search for the hapless animal. Oom Tinus later told me he had
found the animal 800 yards from where I had shot it. My first
shot was a wound and not a proper kill. Oom Tinus, a kind gen-
tleman, invited me to return to try again.
On the second hunt we again waited most of the day before
a springbok ram and a few ewes came along. Nick was in the
blind with me again, while I had another severe bout of heart-
booming buck fever. The ram was standing at 22 yards. I aimed
and the arrow f lew off, zooming in on the kill zone. However,
the ram ducked and the arrow passed harmlessly over his shoul-
der.
I went back a third time, about a month later. This is no
lie: the same ram walked in again. I was prepared this time. I
had discarded my heavier aluminium arrows for lighter, faster-
f lying carbon arrows. I waited for the ram to approach to 17
yards, aimed fairly low and squeezed the trigger. The shot was
true. The arrow passed right through the animal, which jumped
forward and ran a couple of paces. It was clear that neither the
ram nor the ewes with him knew what had happened. The ramMy first bowkill – a springbok