The Life and Times of James Sutherland.

Page 1.

James Sutherland was born in Scotland in 1872 and was 24 years old when he left his land of birth to seek his fame and fortune. He reached Africa with 500 pounds sterling in his pocket. After wandering around the sub-region in search of something to do he finally embarked on his quest for “ My Lord, the Elephant “ in 1899. From this time until his death in 1932 Sutherland hunted almost constantly.

With his treasured Westly Richards .577 double, with which he normally fired a 700 grain bullet propelled by 110 grains of cordite, it has been estimated that his career kills of elephant bulls totaled well over 1000.

When out on safari Sutherland’s were not large and well-armed expeditions, he preferred to hunt alone with one or two trackers and his porters. The search for adventure ran freely through his veins a life of wild, exhilarating excitement, of sunlight and fresh air, vast spaces and solitude free from the restrictions of civilization. A life that he never regretted.

The some of his early hunting stories are related in this edition of Flashback.

When traveling along the Mbarangandu River on one occasion, I had an exciting experience with a buffalo. We had stopped to have lunch and wait for my carriers, who were some distance behind us when suddenly we herd a succession of terrified yells. I ran back to find that a buffalo had charged out of the bush at a carrier and had tossed him through the air into the bush. Fortunately he was not seriously injured and so I set out with my trusty tracker Chingondo on the spoor of the buffalo.

Through tall reeds and razor-bladed grass, plunging through slime marsh infested with snakes we finally caught a glimpse of his dull black hide. I hastily fired and heard the dull thud of the bullet as it hit his flank. He took off at full speed through the thick vegetation; we followed slowly behind him.

The spoor took us into a terrible patch of thorny scrub. We followed on hands and knees, lacerated by the spiniferous bush, along the dark tunnel left by the buffalo’s passage. Emerging back into the long grass we came upon him standing broadside. We crept to within 20 yards when he caught sight of us and charged. I fired instantly but because of the dense grass, accurate shooting was almost impossible. The bullet had passed a little to the right of his heart and he continued his charge. When he was within ten paces I fired again and again the shot failed to stop him. With a vicious snort he was upon me.

Catching me a sharp blow on the hip with his horn, he flung me headlong into the dense grass. The impetus of his charge carried him past Chingondo out onto the riverbed where he collapsed into a heap. Badly bruised but otherwise unhurt, I picked myself up and after finding Chingondo safe and sound went over to where the buffalo lay dead in the sand.

Some years ago I was hunting in that wild tract of land that lies between the Lehombero and Luwegu rivers in German East Africa and had pitched my camp quite close to Jumbe Imperie’s village. One day some natives from the village came to my camp and begged me to come and kill an elephant that had for many years been raiding their fields. The elephant had apparently also killed some of the villagers. The elephant was so well known that he had been given a name, Kom-Kom or the mighty one. The villagers believed that the animal was the re-incarnation of one of their chiefs that had been murdered by a neighboring tribe.

After shooting two bulls in the area the locals who had accompanied me declared that neither one was Kom-Kom. That night we spent in the fields hoping that Kom-Kom would appear but to no avail.

The next morning we found Kom-Koms spoor and by noon had caught up with him but the bush was so dense that it was impossible to see anything and he caught our wind and went crashing through the bush. We followed in hot pursuit through, buffalo beans and thick forest. Eventually we caught up with him in a dense patch of vegetation. We crept up to him but at an inopportune moment my tracker sneezed, which sent Kom-Kom into a full charge. I barely had time to turn, raise my rifle and fire both barrels into his fast approaching face. Fortunately for me the smashing impact of the bullets turned him. Seeing that I had no time to reload my tracker handed me my 10.75 mm but it was impossible to get in a shot.

The mighty one was windward of us and uncertain of our whereabouts. He advanced slowly towards us but I was unable to see him clearly, so judging where his forehead might be I took a shot but all this did was to send him into a rage and he charged us once again.

CONTINUED.......