From the account of Ian’s tracker, they got very close to the bull before they were able to see that it only had one tusk, and was not what they were looking for. But - what made all the difference in this tragic instance - was that this bull was in musth (see sidebar), and as soon as he caught their scent he turned and charged. When I spoke with Chifuti Safaris, to get an accurate account of events I was told that the bull was very close - some ten to fifteen metres. As Gibbo and his tracker turned to exfil, the bull charged. This cleared up one question I’d harboured up to that point. Ian Gibson was one of the most competent bushmen and consummate professionals in the hunting industry, and all the initial accounts said that he’d seen the bull fifty to a hundred metres away. Had it charged from that distance, Ian would have had a lot of options open to him, and would have been able to assess - as closely as one can - how serious the charge was. From even fifteen metres most if not all of those options would have evaporated into thin air.

 

Other PHs close by responded to the scene, reminiscent of the tragedy that had befallen another Chifuti PH, Owain Lewis who was fatally charged by a buffalo bull in 2012, and the client was safely evacuated. 

 

There was blood spoor, so the elephant had been hit, and the following morning a party set out on the tracks of the bull - which they followed up for some thirty to thirty five kilometres - but finally lost due to a rainstorm. 

 

When compiling this story, I called to mind the death at the hands of a herd of cow elephant by PH Gerry Von Memerty - while actually hunting buffalo, near Nyamomba, as recounted by the iconic Ian Nyschens in his classic The Months of the Sun. The above is what we know. There will always be questions, especially from the hunters and trackers who go in for the follow-up. But what is certain is that the industry has lost an immeasurably experienced professional hunter whose skill was matched only by his love for the bush and its wildlife - the four hundred plus people who attended his funeral outside of Marondera are testament to that.

 

But sadly, in the 21st century, there is another aspect to a story like this - the Internet. Because “information” is so rapidly accessible and transmittable, even from the African bush, there is just that much more room for misinformation to creep in. An article in one scholarly tabloid stated that “a celebrated Texas-born (?) hunter was crushed to death by a baby (!) elephant in Zimbabwe as he tried to measure (WTF?) its ivory tusks for an American client.” Even by yellow journalism standards, it’s clear that this publication doesn’t employ an editor and has never heard the term “due diligence”, which is something that writers and editors should exercise before bursting into print. It further informed its curious readers that “despite only having one leg, Gibson was described by fans as 'fit and strong'”. (The client did indeed have a prosthetic leg.) The thought of a one-legged guy in a ten gallon Stetson and cowboy boot chasing a baby elephant through the bush clutching a tape measure would truly be funny if such unnecessary stupidity did not malign the memory of a good man, not to mention tarnish the image of an entire industry in they eyes of a readership, many of whom know no better. 

 

But even worse than this manner of almost criminally unprofessional reporting is the modern-day phenomenon of the Internet troll. We all know them - folks who have firebrand opinions on subjects universal, but only have the courage to express themselves safely within the anonymity afforded by the ‘Net. Because they lack the social maturity to discuss topics logically, not emotively, most of their diatribe is hurtful, scathing, and on a very personal level. Untold numbers of “conservationists” and “animal rightists” took Ian Gibson’s death as an opportunity not to discuss the perceived merits or demerits of sport hunting sanely, but to launch into the unwholesome and malicious slander of a man who was in deed and custom a better conservationist than any of them could ever hope to be, and whose friends and family had to bear on top of everything else.

 

Rest in peace, Gibbo - unlike most folks, you lived 55 years, mostly spent in the bush, doing what you loved doing. My most sincere condolences go out to Ian’s family and close friends.