Hunting...

I had just turned 12, and we were on holiday visiting family in Botswana.  Botswana is a paradise for any adventurous kid.  My family stayed just outside of Serowe, a town then, of some 50 000 Local Population, LP's, as we called them.  There were only 6 white families in the whole Serowe area then, and very little rules.  My aunt was getting married in a week or two on the front patio, and many guests were expected, including the President of Botswana, Mr Seretse Khama, and his British wife Lady Ruth.  In light of the many guests, my uncle decided one morning to move his entire back fence out by 6 meters, and by the end of the day, it was done.  Simple as that, no council, no permission, no sweat.

All of these activities, of course did very little to impress the 4 boys, my 2 brothers Pierre and Leon, my cousin Andries and me.  We had rabbits and small antelope to hunt, a mountain to conquer, a dry river bed (that's another story) to habitate, a foefie slide to build, and lots of adventures that our imaginations could conjure up.

A neighbouring son, David (not his real name) met up with us on occasion, and we would go off on another adventure.  Through the battle lines we received news that David was not well, and is prone to fits of rage, but we had never witnessed it.  This specific morning, we were looking for something to shoot for the pot, and were walking around for a few hours hours without any luck.  After a while we decided that we were hungry, and all but David decided to go home for something to eat.  This is where we got to learn about the fits of rage.  David wanted to prevent us from going and insisted that we stay, by pointing his .22 caliber hunting rifle at us.

Now at this point in time I decided that I was not going to be threatened by bushboy, and turned and walked away to return home, when David started shouting that he will shoot me if I go.  Now let me tell you, I have never experienced a nutcase in my life, and wasn't sure whether he would actually shoot me or not, but up to that point in my life, I had never been so scared.   Thinking back on it today, I knew then what all the poor animals that we had been hunting must have felt like, being hunted down like that.

That day was the first of two occasions in my life that I had been shot at, and as the bullet slammed into my left calve, I knew that I would never again point a rifle at an animal.