Luckily Chris had scouted the area thoroughly, so it wasn’t long before we started finding birds. When Chris dropped the first pair of pointers, Alba and Bianca, it took them only a few minutes to cover 500 yards of open ground, loop back in the opposite direction another 500 yards, do another couple of loops, and lock up like marble bookends on a hillside way out in front of us.

As we fast-walked several hundred yards to the point, it was interesting to see how the dogs managed to hold the birds, snaking around as needed to head off a potential runner. Chris prides himself on how his dogs back a point and work as a team to contain a covey, and this first point showed their training nicely. When we walked past the lead dog, six red-wings exploded at our feet and headed for the horizon. Two of us doubled on one bird, a second bird fell to the third gun and there we stood in drifting feathers, happy as hunters can be.

Flocks of yellow-billed ducks and Egyptian geese offered challenging pass-shooting. (Photo by Alexis Greene)

Lunch that day was a delightful picnic conducted in the British safari tradition—table, chairs, proper tablecloth and silverware—but with distinct Afrikaans/Greek flavor: samosas and an excellent local Chenin Blanc, which reflected Chris's heritage. We loved it.

After lunch we ambled down a valley to a marshy waterhole in search of waterfowl. We found quite a few snipe, which made for some very sporty shooting around the edges of the marsh, but larger waterfowl were a bit thin until the last half-hour of shooting light, when we started to see flocks of yellow-billed ducks and Egyptian geese as well as a couple of spur-winged geese.

Because they caught us chasing snipe out in the open, we didn’t have the luxury of waiting for the ducks and geese to circle down for an easy shot. Once they spotted us crouching in the mud and grass, we had to take the shots they offered on the first pass; but we did manage to pull down several at 60-plus yards using heavy loads of No. 6 shot. Had it occurred to us to bring calls or decoys, I suspect we might have done well with both. Our European pointers, on the other hand, proved to be much better water dogs than I would have expected, retrieving everything we shot with considerable enthusiasm. I hasten to note there were no crocs in this watershed to spoil their fun.

The sun had set by the time we picked up the last duck and returned to the vehicle. We lingered for a little while, taking and enjoying the final afterglow of the sun and hunt, then drove back to the lodge for drinks, a fire and dinner.

From left: outfitter Chris Christodolou, the author and David Cruz with a francolin. (Photo by Alexis Greene)

Chris and Dylan did all the cooking—on this evening a blesbok stew and on other evenings a variety of game dishes, including delicious guinea fowl pot pie and a couple of Greek recipes Chris inherited from his great-grandmother. Chris and Dylan proved to be fine conversationalists, and we enjoyed discussions on topics ranging from rugby and cricket to sculpture and poetry, dogs, natural history and, of course, fine shotguns.

One of the most enjoyable parts of camp life was lounging in front of the fire with Chris's five pointers. They were exceptionally well-mannered and easy to sit with, unlike most of the plantation pointers I've hunter behind over the years. Chris attributed their pet-like qualities partly to breeding but mostly to the fact that they were, in fact, pets. They were with him pretty much all the time, inside and out, and were used to the nuances of social situations. In consequence, they seemed almost spaniel-like in their responsiveness to human moods and wishes. One of these days I'd like to try one of his puppies on our farm.

The next day we focused primarily on grey-winged francolin, casting the dogs through mile after mile of high hills in areas where Chris had been seeing grey-wing coveys recently. As far as I could tell, the cover and terrain were essentially identical to where we'd seen red-wings, but this area just happened to include grey-wings as well.

Dave Cruz unsheathes a lovely Holland & Holland 12-gauge over/under. (Photo by Alexis Greene)

Our luck wasn't quite as good as the day before, with fewer coveys and a couple of wild flushes. I liked the way the grey-wings flew—quicker on the rise than red-wings and quicker, too, to hurtle over cliff edges toward safety. A fine challenge. We managed to get some long shots at a few grey-wings but didn't connect. We ended up having more luck along the way with a couple of coveys of red-wings. Such is hunting.

At this point we needed to decide whether to stay in the highlands or move to a different area in search of other species. In retrospect, we probably should have stayed, enjoying the hard walking and beautiful country, but we were intrigued by the possibility of Swainson’s francolin in the low country; so on the third day we moved camp to an area in the central Free State near Ventersburg. This area is largely agricultural, with huge expanses of corn and sunflowers, extensive grasslands for cattle and numerous high-fenced areas for hunting plains game. Its topography resembles Kansas/Nebraska in some places, Texas/New Mexico in others.

The Ventersburg area is perfect for shooting rock pigeons, doves and driven guinea fowl over grainfields, but we weren’t doing that this trip. Instead we focused on hunting field edges and grasslands for Swainson’s francolin (also known as Swainson’s spurfowl), a somewhat larger bird than red- or grey-winged francolin and similar to the yellow-necked spurfowl I’d hunted in Kenya. In fact, some of the spurs we found on the Swainson’s we shot were quite impressive. Their spurs together with their bright-scarlet and orange throat coloring make them a highly distinctive gamebird.

Thomas Hudson hoists a helmeted guinea fowl. (Photo by Alexis Greene)

We enjoyed good shooting for Swainson's, especially in late afternoon, and the dogs managed to point and hold a few helmeted guinea fowl along the way. I'm not much of a fan of seeing high fences, however, even though they make no difference to the birds, and it was hard not to miss the high open country we'd been hunting in Drakensbergs. On our next hunt with Chris I suspect we'll spend more time in the highlands, and if we do hunt the low country, we'll be sure to include driven guinea fowl, which I believe is some of the best driven shooting anywhere.

Chris, in fact, prides himself on being able to arrange exactly this kind of “bespoke” hunting. His first love is walking behind his pointers, of course, but for hunters who want to hunt the highlands without enduring long days of walking steep hills, a horseback hunt might be a good option. For hunters who prefer high-volume shooting, guineas, rock pigeons and doves in the low country may be preferable to walk-up hunting behind dogs. And for hunters who want the ultimate high-country experience, Chris mentioned some beautifully tough areas with spectacular views and even a few trout streams.

If I had to pick a single highlight from the trip, it would have to be spending time with arguably the best set of pointers I’ve hunted behind. The image of those dogs streaking across wild country under endless skies is enduring, as is the memory of waking after a nap to find a sleeping pointer’s head nestled under my arm.

Written By
Robert Parvin Williams


Country Pursuits & Outfitters in "Shooting Sportsman Magazine" July-August 2025