MY TWO young boys, my gunsmith friend Willie, his sons, and I sat around the campfire far in the bushveld of the Soutspanberg. Our bellies were full and there was happiness all around. We’d enjoyed a successful hunt for warthog and impala, and I’d had a narrow escape that day. I was preparing to fire at a warthog when Willie’s son, Leon grabbed me by the collar and yanked me backwards. I had been about to step on a large puff-adder, and a vocal warning would not have stayed my foot in time… Now, at the fireside with a drink in my hand, I decided to share some fond memories with my great friend and our sons.
I believe that children grow up appreciating the bush if they were taught about wildlife conservation and hunting by a father or mentor. But sometimes it just comes naturally. No one taught
