As a hunter, an indestructible spirit is essential to keep us returning to exotic and remote areas of the world. And sometimes we believe so much in our own longevity that we really don’t plan well for life-threatening events that frequently occur in these adventurous places . . .
      Hunting with Barrie Duckworth, P.H. and owner of Mokore Safaris, I just survived one of the best and most memorable elephant hunts possible. We were at Kazuma National Forest located in the extreme northwest corner of Zimbabwe, about a two hour drive by bushroad from Victoria Falls. After nine safaris to Africa and waiting several years to access this recognized big bull area, this trip was intended to be a memorable one. Not only was my son, Donald, accompanying me to Africa for the first time, but our main target was to take a minimum sixty pound-plus bull – not an easy task these days.
      Being a very patient hunter, I had spent several years going through the agonizing and difficult thought process that a true hunter requires when trying to decide to actually hunt the world’s largest and most dangerous land animal. For me, the peculiar set of ethical, economical and emotional decisions involved in elephant hunting not only took a long time, but called into question the very essence of the hunt, i.e. is it right to kill such a noble animal? So with heavy thoughts accompanying me and with stout heart (I thought) we found ourselves in the Kazuma Camp during late August 2004.

second barrel as the bull turns to run. A fast and furious 250 yard run and after two more left and rights, the bull finally collapses in a cloud of broken trees and dust. Simultaneously, I collapse and cannot move. I am at the final stage of a four-day heart attack! Briefly I recover enough to appreciate the majesty of this magnificent animal and reflect on the abject stupidity of my continuing a hunt that should have ended several days earlier.
       A 90 kilometer evacuation through the bush to the Victoria Falls airstrip preceedes a lapse into full cardiac arrest just as the Air Rescue plane taxis to a stop. Aboard is (wonder of wonders!) a cardiac defibrillator machine that miraculously brings me back to life. A two hour plane ride to Johannesburg, heart surgery, and I’m home in two weeks.
         I am reminded of the great line in the very bad movie “White Hunter, Black Heart”, when famous director John Huston, told that killing an elephant was a crime, responded, “No, it’s far worse than that, it is a sin.”
       So, sometimes life is not all what it seems to be.
      As I reflect on this experience, now seven months past, I realize it simply was not my time to go. But I can’t help but appreciate the poetic irony of both my magnificent 65 pound bull and myself dying at the same precise moment.
       Can you imagine the great stories that he is telling his friends in Elephant Heaven about the day he almost got even?
      I will be back at Kazuma Camp in August 2005.