AFRICAN WARTHOG KABOB                                     by Ted Nugent
 
The lapa is a thatch walled, circular campfire area ubiquitous in African hunting camps since time immemorial. It is here in the mystical firelight of dusk that BloodBrothers of the hunt gather after a stimulating day afield, pursuing all sorts of stunning game animals in the cradle of mankind. My wife Shemane and I were joined at this circle of life with our good friends and bowhunting BloodBrothers Bruce and Jennifer Cull, Jim and Marlyn Brown, and Reon and Almay Van Tonder, toasting glasses of delicious South African red wine and smoking Cuban cigars celebrating a gamepole heavy with fresh kills of the most yummy kind. Somewhere nearby, within earshot of our camp near the Limpopo River across from Botswana and Zimbabwe, a predator was killing its prey, elephants were consuming vast acres of habitat, and natives huddled by their campfires too. BloodBrothers is the only word to describe our spiritual bond. BloodBrothers of the sharp stick and meat, indeed.
 
Sizzling away on our grill over glowing red coals of ancient, petrified indigenous ironwood this fine, warm night at the Angus Brown Safaris lapa, was a rack of cured pork loins, taken from beautifully ugly trophy warthogs arrowed by Jim, Jennifer and me in the last two days. Mixed with the power of the African night, the aromas were intoxicating.
 
Heavily peppered and hung to cool for a day, these delectable wild pork goodies of sacred flesh protein were treated with ultra tender loving care, for the system by which they were procured was Herculean in effort, and dizzying in patience testing discipline. The bowhunting fun factor was immeasurable.
 
Stalking the riverine habitat or sitting for long periods in waterhole blinds, wild pork is always dearly earned and cherished accordingly. Though the African warthog is considered downright ugly by many, those of us who wait for the perfect shot with the bow and arrow think otherwise, and look upon the primal porcine beast with genuine affection. Wild pork does not come easy, and I am sure that is one reason why it tastes so good to the hunter. Like everything else in life, we sincerely appreciate every bite we take from our hard earned trophies far more than the served masses. Kill em and grill em, in many ways, is a religion unto itself.
 
We genuflect at the alter of truth and logic, where rugged individualism and the hunter’s independence are prayers to the Great Spirit of the hunt. It is pure, it is perfect, it is porky. The primal scream lives, warts and all.
 
My little she hog came as many do in the bushveld. A small puddle of muddy water hidden deep in the middle of thorn nasty scrub is the ultimate drinking hole for all wildlife. Concealed ten feet up in a natural looking thatched hide, wife Shemane and I would spend long hours, sometimes entire days watching the amazing parade of African critters coming and going, capturing it all on high definition videotape to share with millions of die-hards on our Spirit of the Wild TV show. We don’t produce, we document. Raw, wild and real is cool.
 
This particular warthog came in behind a small group of beautiful, orange and white striped Nyala cows, one of Africa‘s most beautiful antelope. As usual, she would dink in a bad position for a shot, wander around a bit, nibble here and there, hunker down on her front knees and root, then drink again, the whole time driving this old bowhunter a little crazier by the hour. With decent ivory tusks protruding from her piggy lips, along with the succulent pork, I had visions of a lovely pendant for my favorite VidCamBabe, Mrs. N.
 
Finally, after a long wait, she jockeyed into a nice broadside, my 50# Rytera AlienX bow drew back smoothly, and my 400 grain arrow found her forward ribs, the razorsharp Magnus broadhead slicing everything in its path, angling hard out the far shoulder. She blew out of there hells-afire, and translucent African dust floated gently back to earth where once stood a dozen animals. I smiled broadly for Shemane’s vidcam, and we knew the pork had landed. Dear Lord I love bloody arrows.
 
Another truly amazing African thing, is the mind boggling lack of blood on the ground even after a perfect double lung or heart shot. Equally amazing are the tracking skills of Africans, and thanks to just such skills of Reon Van Tonder, my warthog was recovered in no time.
 
The small 5” tusks were perfectly matched and pretty thick for a female. Many photos were taken by ace photogs Jim and Marlyn Brown, and we all knew how tasty the rewards would be. And they were, for the belly and the spirit.
 
To book an African Safari or many other amazing hunts with the Nugent’s, visit tednugent.com or contact SUNRIZE SAFARIS at 517-750-9060.
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