Great Men: Peter Hathaway Capstick, Hunter and Writer

I finally finished Peter Hathaway Capstick’s “Death in the Long Grass” at the recommendation of reader Brett J. (More of his recommendations follow my comments.)

The writing itself is competent, if pleasantly folksy, but the stories themselves… holy shit! Capstick, who left a job on Wall Street in the ’70s to become a white hunter in Africa, has completely blown away any desire I have to hunt big game. It’s not the killing part—I’ve never done much hunting, but I’ve slaughtered a few animals—but the bowel-chilling situations Capstick finds himself in while stalking big game through the scrub growth of Africa (punctuated with just enough self-deprecation to make you believe him when he tells you about how frightened he was). Africa wants to kill you.

You have been sitting for two hours in a cramped blind watching the flies you cannot swat as you peer blearily through the tiny peephole above the gun port at the half-eaten remains of a wart hog or impala. Your mouth is raw from chain smoking. (The professional says it’s okay as long as you don’t scratch a match because if the leopard can smell your smoke he can smell you too.) You are suddenly aware of looking two golden-green eyes as evil as poison gas, while a hulking male leopard changes to solid form. Log-thick forearms flex as he drifts further up the tree, the dull-white talons in his great pads cutting into the bark and flesh of the tree—and you can imagine them doing the same to your face and hooking deep in your guts to spill the eland filet you had for lunch all over the tops of your nice, new Clark’s Desert Boots.

In general, I’m persuaded by the arguments of hunters, even those of big game, that the stiff license fees end up keeping more game alive than is culled (a point that Capstick is quick to discuss, then ignore for most of the rest of the book, to focus on stories of stalking game). It’s important to remember that the more motile children of nature are as happy to kill humans as they are anything else, no matter how anthropomorphized they have been.

While reading about the dangers of hunting crocodiles and leopards has pretty much cured me of any desire to put a soft, expanding slug into their brains—even if I had the money to pay for a license, most of the trophies can’t be imported to the U.S.—it has reminded me how much I want to take a deer this season, hopefully while we do a theme week on hunting. If anyone lives in upstate New York and would be interested in taking along an inexperienced but obedient hunter who hasn’t shot a rifle in a decade, let me know.

Just as I finished “Death in the Long Grass,” Brett sent me another burst of book selections, which I’ll right below. He steered me true once, so I’ll probably end up picking up a few more of his suggestions to save for a time when I need to remember how impersonal nature really is.

Brett J. writes:

Glad you like Capstick. I have 7 of his books, so if you want to read some more, Death in the Dark Continent” is pretty similar in layout and content to “Long Grass”.

“Death in the Silent Places” and “The African Adventurers” are stories of other crazy hunters told by Capstick. The story of Major P.J. Pretorius’ one-man war against the Germans in WW1, in Africa, is amazing.

“The Last Ivory Hunter” is what its title says.

“Death in the Lonely Land” is different than the others, but equally brilliant. It’s a compilation of Capstick’s articles for “Guns and Ammo” magazine and covers everything from a nighttime jaguar hunt in Brazil to shooting dragonflies with a full-auto BB gun in Florida.

The only Capstick book I wouldn’t recommend is “Safari“, which is an out-dated guide for planning a safari.

Blatant ‘Reading Rainbow’ ripoff: If you liked these books, you might also like: “The Man Eats of Tsavo” by Col. J.H. Patterson. The film “The Ghost and the Darkness” is very loosely based on this book. The book vs. movie is a clear case of truth being stranger than fiction. After reading it, I flew to Chicago to see the The Tsavo Lions in the Field Museum.

While I’m recommending books, I’ll put in a word for “The Scavenger’s Guide to Haute Cuisine“, which fits the Dethroner propensities for food, manliness, and weirdness. My sister is an acquaintance of the author, who details his quest to create a 3-day feast based on a 100-year-old French cookbook using ingredients hunted and gathered himself. Such as baby pigeons gathered in the middle of the night from an alley in Missoula, Montana. I think I want a copy of that cookbook. (The author’s official website is here.)