PaintballX3 Magazine PaintballX3, November 2012 - Page 72

boulders, improbable glacial erratics, than living things. It was remarkable, even disconcerting, how well they blended in with the landscape. One of the bulls was clearly larger than the others and would make a good trophy, and Sieg understood it was the one intended. The PH told him to move in and that when a clear shot was available …take it. That is exactly what he did. With his heart pounding and his pulse racing, Sieg advanced without taking his eyes off the animal. When he was in position to see the bull in its entirety, he was startled at its enormity. He stared at the bull for what seemed an eternity, though in fact it was probably no more than fifteen seconds. But it was long enough to imprint on his brain forever the image of dappled sunlight on the bull's back, the twitching muscles along its withers, the density and solidness of its torso, and the sturdiness of its bollard-like legs. He wanted to see the bull's eyes, horns and bosses straight on, but positioning himself for such a perspective at that close range would invite certain disaster. (Gurnsey with Debra Dion Krischke) head-on whatever comes. I can't tell you how alive you feel in that moment. It's stunning." The tracker returned and reported a "dagga boy," a small group of bachelor bulls, a hundred yards ahead. Cape buffalo do not see or hear well, but they possess a powerful sense of smell. So even though there was no moving air in the forest to speak of, they made their stalk from the rear of the herd. The tracker moved off and the PH and Sieg followed a few yards behind. They picked their way through the underbrush until the tracker stopped and raised a hand. They advanced slowly until they could see the grayish black backs of four buffalo through the trees fifty yards away. The underbrush screened their heads, horns, and legs from view so that at first glance the bulls looked more like enormous He shouldered his double barrel Merkel .458 magnum rifle, clicked off the safety and sent a 2,040-fps 500-grain soft-lead bullet through the back of the bull's ribs, in perfect alignment with its heart and lungs. He heard the bullet slam into the bull, sounding a loud, wet thud. At impact the bull grunted and charged off into the underbrush with its head lowered and rocking from Ν₯‘”ΡΌΝ₯‘”ΈQ‘”A ε•±±•°€‰I•±½…„I•±½…„M‘½½Π‘₯΄……₯Έ„„M‘½½Π‘₯΄……₯Έ„ˆΉ‘”‘₯°Ρ‘₯́Ρ₯΅”έ₯Ρ Ρ‘”Ν•½Ή‰…ΙΙ•°…Ή„€Τΐΐ΅Ι…₯Έ‘…ɐ΅±•…‰Υ±±•Π°έ‘₯ ‘₯Ёё”‰Υ±°Μ‘Υ΅ΐ°Ρ‘”½Ή±δΩ₯Ν₯‰±”Α…ΙΠΈQ‘”½Ρ‘•Θ‘…„‰½έ͹½ΙΡ•…ΉΡΥΙΉ•Ν‘…ΙΑ±δΡ½έ…ɐΡ‘”Ν½ΥΉ°‰ΥЁё•ΈΝΡ…΅Α•‘•½™˜₯ΉΡΌΡ‘”™½Ι•ΝН́₯ΉΡ•Ι₯½Θ°…݅䁙ɽ΄Ρ‘•₯ȁݽչ‘•΅…Ρ”ΈЁё”Ν½ΥΉ½˜Ρ‘”Ν‘½ΡΜ°Ρ‘”Ή½₯Ν”₯ΈΡ‘”™½Ι•ΝЁ‰•…΅”‘•…™•Ή₯ΉœΈΩ•ΙεΡ‘₯ΉœΝ••΅•ΡΌ΅½Ω”…Ё½Ή”ΈQ‘”±½Ή”‰Υ±°‘…ɝ•½™˜½Ή”έ…䰁₯Ρ́΅…Ρ•Μ°έ₯Ρ Ρ‘”Ι•­±•Ν́…‰…Ή‘½Έ½˜ΙΥΉ…έ…δՍ±₯‰Υ±±‘½ι•ΙΜ°ΝΡ½Ι΅•½™˜₯Έ…Ή½Ρ‘•Θ‘₯Ι•Ρ₯½ΈΈQ‘”Ι½ΥΉ((0