AFRICA HUNTER QUEST©   

    Chapter 33 - THE PILGRIM’S SAFARI: DAY 4   

    Donny met his PH early for breakfast. He found out that his PH had been licensed for over 10 years, and had hunted throughout most of Africa as a freelance PH. He did it part-time during the traditional winter months to supplement his income. He owned about 2800 acres in the Limpopo province, all high fenced. It was the family farm that he now leased to an outfitter for hunting.    

    Donny’s PH had a tough decision to make.  His property is underlain by a very thick coal seam mined as a fuel source for an adjacent power plant. The mining company had made him a lucrative offer that he was struggling to accept. It was, after all, the family farm. He had grown up there. Being an accessory to a demise like an open-pit strip mine just didn’t feel right, regardless of the money.   

    Donny had complete empathy for him, and shared his similar upbringing. Donny sensed their common heritage had helped solidify the bond that was growing between them. His PH was becoming his friend.   

    The property they drove to was 4000 acres, surrounded by a high fence. The terrain consisted of rolling, rock-strewn hills and ridges divided by valleys no more than about 800 yards wide. The surface vegetation was predominantly low to knee-high grass with sporadic brush of limited extent.    

    As they drove through the gate, Donny could see a herd of animals in the distance, at least 600 yards away. The herd immediately bolted into the interior of the property, climbing an adjacent hill and disappearing over it. “Not a good sign,” thought Donny.   

    It wasn’t. Donny later found out that the day before hunters had literally chased the animals with a truck. The hunters had taken shots from the truck at those few curious ones that would stop and turn to survey their pursuer. At other times, hunters sat in ambush as the truck was used to drive the herd toward them. Bottom line:     the animals knew a truck was trouble and were acting accordingly.   

    They dismounted from the truck. Donny could see that any shot he took would likely be a long one, so he attached his tall bipod to his rifle. To cover all the bases,

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he dry-fired from the sticks prior to loading his magazine. Thankfully there was no real vegetation that would be inclined to attack his rifle, or him, for that matter.   

    They walked in the direction the blesbok had run. Donny noted a strong right-to-left crosswind, a condition that would likely require careful consideration if he got a shot.    

    They walked in silence. The distribution and frequency of cobbles weren’t nearly as ugly as the day before. There was far less hopscotch required, and they made quick, efficient progress toward the hill crossed by the blesbok. Just before they would be skylined, the tracker stopped. Through apparent telepathy between the tracker and his PH, the tracker crouch-walked, then kneeled to one knee to do a recon at the hill’s summit. He rose slowly, then shook his head. He motioned the PH forward.    

    The crest of the hill was fairly narrow, affording a clear view of the next valley and the flank of a far-side hill. Nothing. The tracker indicated to the PH with hand signals that the herd was headed to the far hill and had likely crossed it.    

    The PH nodded his head, and the tracker led the team toward the far hill. About two-thirds of the way across the valley, the tracker stopped and turned to the PH. The tracker was pointing to the PH’s right, indicating that the herd had turned and was now running upwind. His PH nodded and motioned for the tracker to follow. They walked slowly into the wind, the tracker carefully scanning the ground in front of him. Donny had no idea what clues the man was using to guide him. He occasionally saw what he thought were hoof prints. The only positive indication of the productive progress was the periodic occurrence of fresh scat. Donny was in awe of the tracker’s skill set.    

    There was no way for Donny to tell precisely, but he figured they traveled up the valley for at least one-half mile. Then the tracker did a 90-degree left turn and began a trek toward the second hill. The conga line behind him turned to follow. Once again, near the summit of the second hill, the tracker dropped to a crouch-walk, then dropped to one knee at the summit. He motioned for the team to follow. The PH crouch-walked up to the tracker, and Donny did likewise.    

    Before them lay a broad plateau at least 200 yards wide, with the possibility of another valley beyond. No animals were visible on the plateau. The tracker motioned to the PH, indicating the herd had likely crossed and was headed to what as yet was an unknown land feature. The PH motioned him forward, and the team crouch-

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walked to the far crest of what was obviously one of the highest points on the property. They all kneeled down, and the PH scanned the expansive landscape below them.    

    Donny could see rolling hills with attendant valleys for about as far as the eye could see. He followed the sight alignment of his PH and detected the herd well beyond a half mile away. They were in a valley and had once again turned into the wind. They were walking rapidly and not feeding, indicating some residual DEFCON condition.   

    His PH stood up and said a few words in Afrikaans to the tracker, and the tracker set off in the direction they had come from.   

    PH:    He’s going back for the truck. He will meet us on the road down below.   

    D:    The herd seems to be pretty spooked.   

    PH:    Yes. I was hoping to sneak up on one. Having a herd near the gate and busting us was bad luck.   

    D:    What’s the plan?   

    PH:    There are several herds on this farm. We will drive down the valley to another portion of the property to find another one to stalk.   

    To avoid being skylined, his PH walked about 20 yards down the hill, then turned left downwind to follow its alignment. Every 200 yards or so he would stop and glass the broad landscape to the right. They continued for about 20 minutes, and Donny could see the ridge begin to peter out, morphing into a broad round nose. The PH followed the contour of the nose. Donny could see the road below had also curved and was still directly below them. At about the apex of the hill’s nose, his PH stopped and sat down, scanning the broad panorama of land. No animals.   

    The truck drove around and parked. Donny and his PH walked down and got in the back. His PH said a few words in Afrikaans to the tracker, and they started off. They drove for about an hour until noon, scanning the landscape for blesbok. No luck. They stopped in the shade of a small tree to eat lunch.   

    His lunch box consisted of two wildebeest burgers, chips, a container of coleslaw, cookies, and hard candy. They could have driven back to the lodge for a true

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prepared lunch, but Donny had told his PH he wanted to max out his time actually hunting, not traveling during an extended lunch hour.   

    They continued on after lunch, periodically stopping to glass. No blesbok. It was as if blesbok nation had been put on high alert. Donny knew from his reading that they were territorial and was a little surprised they hadn’t come across any other herds.     

    It was getting late in the day when his PH signaled to the tracker to stop. Donny recognized they were on the far side of the first hill they encountered in the morning, and assessed his PH was banking on the herd they had spooked returning to feed.   

    They dismounted and Donny went through his dry-fire protocol. He loaded his rifle, then fell in line as the team walked briskly up the hill. Near the summit, the tracker couch-walked, then finally dropped to one knee. The tracker reconned over the crest and indicated the herd had returned.   

    His PH backtracked about 15 yards down the hill to a moderate-sized bush about 3 feet tall. He cut off a branch with his knife, then instructed Donny to follow directly behind him. His PH bent at the waist and slowly walked up and over the hill crest. Donny likewise bent at the waist, unslinging his rifle and carrying it low to the ground, ready for rapid deployment.    

    As they crested the hill, his PH held the branch directly in front of him, masking his face, neck, and upper torso. Donny looked with amazement at the herd as they walked slowly toward them. They all had stopped feeding and had turned to watch their approach. Donny estimated they were about 400 yards away. They had the same crosswind, but this time their travel direction made the wind left-to-right. As they walked, Donny realized the setting sun was beginning to get in his eyes. The animals were slightly back-lighted, obscuring any details.    

    His PH stopped and motioned for Donny to continue to stand directly behind him.   

    PH:    (Whispering) Let me make sure of your ram. I think it’s facing us, fourth from the right.   

    His PH quickly scanned the herd.    

    PH:    (Whispering) Step to my right side. Use the sticks. Fourth from the right. Estimated 300 yards.   

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    Donny moved to his PH’s right, grabbing the sticks with his left hand, then slowly positioned his rifle. He got behind the sticks and panned his rifle in the direction of where his target should be. Maybe it was the rifle’s movement, maybe it was a glint from his scope, or maybe his intended blesbok’s riffraff detector had been pegged. Whatever the reason, his ram turned and bolted into the wind, carrying the rest of the herd with it.   

    Donny watched them initially sprint, then taper off the pace. He lifted the sticks and rotated them, hoping his ram would momentarily stop to investigate so he could get another opportunity. Indeed, the herd did stop and turned around to investigate, but had traveled out to at least 400 yards. Donny knew he was hopelessly out of range, sticks or otherwise.   

    They had been busted a second time. With the light beginning to fade, Donny assessed that any further stalking attempt would be futile. He lifted his rifle off of the sticks.   

    D:    That’s huntin’.    

    PH:    Exactly. We’ll try again tomorrow.   

    Donny was secretly glad. From practicing off sticks at the house, he knew a shot from over 250 yards would be problematic. Shooting seated off the bipod would also not be reasonable for a shot at least 400 yards away. With both shots, he would have had to WAG holds to compensate for both yardage and wind. Better no shot than a poor one.   

    They got back to the lodge relatively late. He went to his room to clean up and returned just in time for the dinner announcement. Ironically, blesbok was the entree for this evening.   

    Donny surveyed the hunters and found that Mr. Cup and Core and his wife weren’t there, probably long since departed for the airport. He sat down at the table of 300 mag shooters and introduced himself. He was the only hunter east of the Mississippi. The 300 Weatherby shooter was from Louisiana, with the younger 300 Winchester shooter from Oklahoma. The much older 300 Winchester shooter was from Texas.   

    The conversation at the table could be characterized as simplistic “mine is bigger than yours” assertions between the 300 Weatherby and younger 300 Winchester

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shooters. The 300 Weatherby shooter was convinced his chambering was vastly superior because of its muzzle velocity and resultant energy. As proof, he cited the results of his blesbok slam:     three of his four had dropped to the shot with the fourth staggering a mere 25 yards. The 300 Winchester shooter countered that his heavier bullet, with superior BC, retained greater energy for his long-range shots on springbok. He cited as evidence that three of his four also had also dropped to the shot, but at ranges at least 100 yards farther.    

    At times Donny was so slack-jawed by the conversation between these two that he had to remind himself to chew his food. The older man from Texas just sat and ate with polite indifference, never commenting or asking any questions.   

    When Donny could get a word in edgewise, he found out that the Weatherby shooter was using off-the-shelf ammo loaded with poly-tipped, 165-grain cup and core bullets. The 300 Winchester shooter hand loaded his own ammo and used a poly-tipped, 180-grain bonded-lead core bullet. Both primarily hunted deer, and this was their first trip to Africa. Both had shot all their animals from the truck, using bipods supported on the roof.    

    Then the 300 Weatherby shooter, whom Donny decided to call the Cowboy, asked him what chambering and bullet he was using.   

    D:          270 Winchester with a 180-grained bonded-lead core bullet.   

    C:    What’s your muzzle velocity?   

    D:    About 2620 fps.   

    C:    That’s all? Are you limiting your shots to 100 yards? That sounds like a brush load to me.   

    Donny was torn. He decided unleashing a GG-like techno spew to defend his system would be futile:     the man simply wouldn’t get it, nor would he accept it if he did.   

    D:    I have limited my shot distance to 350 yards, based on the manufacturer’s impact velocity recommendations and the accuracy of my system. Even at 180 grains, I think it could be kinda light for the zebra I would like to hunt. I’m going to exclude rear quartering shots, and my primary target is the heart. Otherwise, I think I’m good to go.   

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    C:    If you shot a 300 Weatherby, you wouldn’t need to worry about all that.   

    D:    Maybe so. I’m here to understand and appreciate the Africa hunting experience, but also to find out how various bullet designs perform based on animal autopsies. Conventional thinking says I took a chance with such a heavy bullet in my 270 Winchester. Nobody seems to use it. If they have, they certainly don’t talk about it. But I have reason to believe that the wound cavity it creates and the penetration it achieves on shots on the shoulder will likely be satisfactory. I saw the gemsbok I shot being skinned, and was favorably impressed by its terminal performance. So was my PH.   

    Before the Cowboy could counter with the inevitable pseudo-technical rebuttal, the 300 Winchester shooter from Oklahoma jumped in. Donny decided to call him the Newbee.    

    N:    You say your 180-grainer is a bonded-lead core bullet? So is mine. Are you saying your bullet’s performance is as good as mine even though yours is about 400 fps slower at the muzzle?   

    D:    It could be.   

    The Newbee rolled his eyes. Before he could play the BS card, Donny continued.   

    D:    Certainly not at the same distance. If we set up separate gel blocks with sufficient length to catch our bullets at 100 yards, I suspect your results would be way different than mine. Your bullet has a bigger diameter, would likely have a greater expanded diameter, and would hit at a very much higher velocity. Your bullet would have more punch. The wound cavity created by your bullet would likely be way greater. Your bullet would likely penetrate farther.   

    If we set up the gel blocks at say 350 yards and you fired a bullet into it, I suspect the resultant gel block could potentially look the same as mine at 100 yards because your bullet wouldn’t have expanded very much. Both the wound cavity volumes and the penetration lengths could be comparable. Not only that, but the punch on the animal could be comparable to mine at 100 yards because your bullet would have lost so much velocity. So, based on impact velocity at different distances, my bullet could have the same terminal performance as yours.

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    The Newbee frowned. The question he asked had been answered in a way that was potentially possible and appeared to be science-based. Even so, he felt he had been tricked and slicked. He was unwilling to concede his system wasn’t vastly superior to a 270 Winchester under any circumstances.    

    N:    But all my shots will be less than 350 yards. Therefore, my caliber outperforms yours.   

    D:    That’s correct, as long as your bullet doesn’t blow up at 40 yards if it hits a shoulder joint. Did you know what the likely shot distances would be before you got here?   

    The Newbee frowned again. It was an elementary ‘look before you leap’ issue. The Newbee’s face began to turn red.    

    Donny took a quick look at the Cowboy and the 300 Winchester shooter from Texas. The Cowboy had a condescending smirk on his face as if thinking ‘mental masturbation’. The Texan was smiling faintly, obviously now interested in the conversation. The Texan’s eyes told Donny he could be preaching to the choir. Donny decided to call the Texan the Old Salt.   

    D:    I’m no expert at any of this. This is my first trip to Africa. I’m here to learn and see if what drew me in the first place is real or imagined. A man who has been to South Africa multiple times pretty much impressed upon me that if I came here, I needed to have enough gun and enough bullet for all the animals I intended to hunt. Otherwise, I could potentially lose an animal and be out the trophy fee. At the time, I didn’t appreciate how bad I would feel about wounding one of these animals. I’ve only been here two days, but I have seen enough to truly consider them as warriors. I would feel worse about wounding them than I would about the hit to my wallet.   

    Silence from the group. The Old Salt’s smile slightly broadened.   

    D:    My 270 Winchester is too much gun for the 150-pound southern white tails I hunt in South Carolina. Other than a light varmint bullet, virtually any bullet will work, particularly with a shot into the lungs. My issue at home is meat damage, so I use a bullet that doesn’t damage too much meat at the distances I shoot.   

    Donny surveyed his audience. The Old Salt’s smile was now noticeably bigger. The Newbee’s brow was slightly furrowed as if there was serious consideration being given to what he was saying. The Cowboy’s smirk was still present.   

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    D:    I read a book written by an Africa PH who is educated as a veterinarian. He believes my 270 Winchester is lower-bound for some of the animals I want to hunt. He is polite about it, as are other PHs whose opinions I’ve asked. Those opinions were difficult for me to accept because of my success on deer. Their opinions are based on what they repeatedly see during hunts for specific animals. I concluded that the veterinarian PH believed that my preferred 130-grainer was too light and its generic design was not sufficient for shots on the shoulder in short-range situations.   

    To compensate for my gun’s caliber and chambering potentially being on the puny side, I tried to maybe over-compensate with the bullet I selected. In terms of bullet weight and the sustained punch it puts on an animal, it is probably better than a 150-grainer. This weight slows it down so it could potentially penetrate better. Its weight likely won’t slow it down to the extent that it doesn’t mushroom sufficiently at the distances I will likely shoot. I’m hoping that it does mushroom enough so that the animal dies reasonably quickly. Its impact velocity at expected shot distances is within the range of the manufacturer’s recommendations.   

    The other way I am trying to compensate for my potentially puny caliber and chambering is focusing on the heart as my target. I have studied the anatomy of the animals I want to hunt, and can visualize where the heart is for any angle shot. Based on the shooting position and the accuracy of my ammo, I have arbitrarily selected maximum shot distances. These shot distances take into account the wobble I routinely got from various shooting positions when I practiced both dry- and live-fire.    

    I have also arbitrarily decided not to use the rear quartering shot because I am not sure of the penetration potential of my bullet. Truth be told, I would probably have more confidence in a modern, well-constructed 180-grain cup and core bullet for the hunting conditions I have observed so far in the Orange Free State. The typical shot distances here would likely put such a simple cup and core bullet in the impact velocity sweet-spot of Africa tried-and-true chamberings and bullet weights.   

    The Cowboy snorted in contempt.    

    C:    They just brought out the dessert. I’m gonna get mine.   

    “Potentially prophetic words,” thought Donny. He looked at both the Old Salt and the Newbee. The Old Salt was now grinning like a Cheshire cat. The furrow on the Newbee’s brow had deepened.   

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    N:    Africa tried and true?   

    D:    Big and slow, although a .277-caliber really can’t be considered big. However, a 180-grain bullet in that caliber can.    

    N:    And just how big is big and how slow is slow?   

    D:    For plains game only and you throw in the 7-millimeter Mauser, bullets weighing from 175 grains to 300 grains in various calibers at a maximum muzzle velocity of about 2500 fps apparently worked just fine.    

    Donny could see the Newbee was struggling with the data dump. He sensed that the Newbee had more than casual interest in doing things ‘right’ based on the notion that he had taken the time to hand-load a proven plains game bullet for his 300 Winchester. Far more telling was the simple fact that he hadn’t adjourned for the dessert table like the Cowboy.   

    D:    I think you have enough gun and enough bullet. The bullet may be a touch shy weight-wise, but my reading indicates it has proven stout enough to withstand impact velocities produced by your 300 Winchester for shot distances I think will be in play for the conditions I’ve seen so far.   

    N:    So, one of the things you are saying is the bullet needs to be selected based on impact velocity?   

    D:    Yes, as well as the terminal performance you want. If you want to save meat, don’t mind tracking, and can tolerate an animal living for an extended time period after the shot, there are bullet designs that can meet that performance objective with those attendant limitations. Those bullets typically penetrate like gangbusters but don’t expand as well as other designs. If you don’t care about meat damage and want to potentially enhance the prospect of the animal traveling only a limited distance after the shot, there are bullet designs that can meet that terminal performance objective. Those designs typically expand like gangbusters but can have the limitation of reduced penetration. Furthermore, shot placement on the shoulder could potentially mean not getting into the boiler room if the impact velocity gets gonzo with certain bullets.   

    N:    I still don’t get what you mean by big. It sounds like it is just bullet weight.   

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    D:    I understand. I struggled as well. Weight is important if you consider that a bullet punches an animal in some way. More weight is a stouter punch. The man that explained that to me whipped out physics and fluid dynamics to justify that more bullet weight resulted in both a stouter punch and a bigger blood compression wave. His explanation about the importance of a bigger a blood compression wave kindly got my eyes glazed over. I have just decided that a heavier bullet is better.   

    Big also means diameter or caliber. A bigger hole drains anything faster. What I keep forgetting is the end area of the bullet is far more important than the diameter. Your 180-grainer has a diameter of about 11% greater than mine. But if you consider the end area rather than its diameter, your 180-grainer has an area about 24% greater. That’s a lot.    

    Donny watched the Newbee. He could see he was struggling with the application of the numbers.    

    D:    I have read that one of the highly regarded Africa classics was a 9.3 Mauser. It shot a .366-inch diameter, 285-grain bullet at 2175 fps. If that isn’t big and slow, I don’t know what is. That bullet’s end area is about 75% greater than my 180-grainer and about 41% greater than yours. If your bullet and the 285-grainer just made a caliber-sized hole in an animal’s lungs from a complete pass-through, an oversimplified way of thinking about the resulting terminal performance is the animal will bleed out 41% faster from the 285-grainer than your 180-grainer. Faster bleed-out could mean less travel after the shot, which reduces the risk of a lost animal. All you have to do is get the 285-grainer to penetrate, and you get that greater end-area bleed-out benefit.    

    Donny watched the Newbee. He could almost hear the processing pug mill churning away.    

    N:    So that’s why bigger animals need a bigger caliber. There is more blood that needs to be drained out to kill the animal in the same amount of travel time.   

    D:    I never thought about it that way, but I think that’s well said. Although anatomical absolutists would probably argue with that gross simplification, I think it’s an excellent way to conceptually think about it. Makes sense to me.   

    N:    But what about hydrostatic shock? You wouldn’t get hydrostatic shock with that 285-grainer at the freight-train speed that you talked about.   

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    D:    I think you are dead on. But the same man who kept throwing physics and fluid dynamics at virtually every explanation he gave was convinced that what he called hydrodynamic shock was only luck of the draw. He had fixated on trying to produce hydrodynamic shock every time by shooting grenade-like bullets into the heart. Even though he apparently hit the heart most all the time, he basically concluded that it couldn’t be done. If it did happen, it was gravy.   

    N:    This guy sounds like a wonky esoteric crackpot, yet you keep drawing him like a gun. Why?   

    D:    He told excellent stories about Goldilocks and the three bears.    

    N:    Huh?!   

    D:    Ya had to be there. The man has been to Africa multiple times. He reads what Africa experts say about hunting in Africa. His terminal performance philosophy is that if an animal is alive 10 seconds after the shot, that is 9 seconds too long. That philosophy is also his terminal performance objective. He is a retired engineer and claims he is using engineering concepts to try to figure out bullet terminal performance. He has three chamberings he is considering for use in hunting plains game. He has done gel testing to identify bullets for each that he believes will max out the prospect of his terminal performance objective.   

    His current thinking is that a bullet that tends to act more like a grenade than a penetrator in taking out the heart and parts of each lung will come closest to achieving his terminal performance objective. He is therefore fixated on maxing out wound cavity volume with effective penetration, and has figured out a way to both model and calculate it using 20% synthetic gel.   

    He is an accuracy freak. He hand loads and won’t accept accuracy from any hunting bullet greater than ¾ inch for three shots at 200 yards. He claims a significant majority of his shots have taken out the heart at distances out to 364 yards. He used a 375 H&H for that shot, by the way.   

    He uses his trips to Africa to obtain field truth to either prove or disprove the effectiveness of his bullet choices. He claims over half of the animals he has shot with his 375 H&H have dropped stone dead at the shot. An esoteric crackpot? No way. A wonk? You bet!   

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    N:    Virtually everything you have said is theoretical. Physics, fluid dynamics, wound cavity volume, and bullet punch are all numbers games. I don’t think it makes a hill of beans difference. Just hit them in the boiler room, and they won’t run over 200 yards.   

    D:    The man you called a crackpot basically said the same thing. He said he needed to get back to Africa and see if any of what I have just told you makes any difference. His terminal performance baseline is a 375 H&H and 300-grain cup and core bullet. He wants to see how his other chamberings and the bullets he selected based on gel testing actually perform compared to what he has seen with his 375 H&H and the 300-grainer. He’s just trying to do the best he knows how with his other two chamberings. I’m trying to see how my system stacks up to yours as well as other chambering-and-bullet combos.   

    Donny had been watching the Newbee as he explained why he thought GG had credibility. The only items the Newbee seemed to have related to were the three-shot accuracy at 200 yards and the 364-yard shot with the 375 H&H.   

    OS:    What other two chamberings does this man shoot beside a 375 H&H?   

    Donny was a tad surprised the Old Salt had finally decided to join the conversation, abandoning the popcorn he had been figuratively munching on for dessert.    

    D:    A 358 Winchester and a 300 Winchester. He claims the 358 Winchester delivers classic Whelen ballistics even though it only has a 21-inch barrel.   

    The Old Salt was nodding his head. Donny could tell he had been jump-started.   

    OS:    Do you know what 30-caliber bullet he intends to use?   

    D:    Based on his gel testing he intends to use two:     a 200-grain bonded-lead core bullet for short range, and a poly-tipped 240-grain match bullet for long range.    

    Donny saw the Old Salt frown somewhat and furrow his brow, deep in thought. Both Donny and the Newbee waited on him to work through whatever issues had presented themselves.   

    OS:    Did he gel test any other 30-caliber bullets?   

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    D:    Yes. A 165-grain solid copper, a 180-grain dual-lead cell with a bonded front cell, and a 220-grain round-nose cup and core.   

    Further silence and contemplation from the Old Salt.    

    OS:    I really don’t expect an answer to this, but did he give any reason why he selected the 200-grain bonded-lead core over the 180-grain dual-lead cell with the bonded front cell?   

    Donny paused, trying to remember specifics, but couldn’t.    

    D:    My takeaway was that it was an overachiever, comparing favorably in some performance categories to both his selected 35-caliber choices and his 300-grain, .375-caliber benchmark bullet. As I recall, the 180-grainer penetrated a little farther, but the wound cavity volume of the 200-grainer was  better. He seemed to think that the 200-grainer penetrated ‘enough’, comparable to his 300-grain, .375-caliber bullet that he used as a benchmark for penetration.   

    Again, silence and contemplation.   

    OS:    You say he had performance categories?   

    D:    He called them a strange name . . . metrics, that’s it. There were a bunch of them. He used them to rank all the bullets he tested. Both the 200-grainer and 240-grainer beat the 180-grainer in terms of overall ranking. As I recall, that kindly surprised him, particularly the 240-grainer’s results.   

    Donny saw the Old Salt’s eyes faintly register amazement at the reference of both the 200- and 240-grainer beating the 180-grainer. Donny couldn’t contain himself.   

    D:    What bullet do you shoot?   

    OS:    A 200-grainer of the same design from the same manufacturer as the 180-grainer.   

    D:    Oh. Now I understand the interest.   

    OS:    Again, I would be surprised if you know any specifics. Did he mention any velocities for his 30-calibers?   

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    D:    He did. All I remember is he used a 22-inch barrel to slow them down.   

    The Old Salt first nodded, then shook his head while smiling in amazement.   

    OS:    Mine’s a 22-inch barrel as well. I was hoping that his barrel was longer, as the resultant velocity increase could at least partially explain his final rankings. Wow.   

    N:    Why do people want shorter barrels? They would be sacrificing velocity and energy.   

    OS:    Easier to carry through the thick stuff. Yes, you lose velocity, but not to the point of detrimentally affecting the bullet’s terminal performance at typical Africa shooting distances.   

    N:    This conversation has been an eye-opener.   

    OS:    Agreed.   

    Donny and the Old Salt got up and scored a dessert before the hovering staff had a chance to remove it. Donny turned back to his table and saw that the Newbee had departed, probably for his room. The Cowboy was camped at the PHs’ table doing pretty much all the talking. The body language of the PHs indicated polite tolerance that sometimes morphed into intolerance with sidebar conversations in Afrikaans. The Old Salt was headed to that table, but Donny decided adding a general entry to his journal about the day’s hunt would be more productive. He took his dessert and adjourned to his room to complete that task and prepare for the next day’s hunt.   

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