About 15 years back, an old school mate came to visit me when I was still living in the Lowveld. We decided to eat our one night, and at dusk on the way out, a big bushbuck ram darted out of the bush right in front of the bakkie. We hit is while doing about 50km/h. We stopped immediately to assess the damage to bakkie and bushbuck. Luckiliy the bakkie had a susbstantial bullbar, so it was OK, but the bushbuch was lying motionless on the road. I could see it was still breathing, so I decided to drag it off the road to assess it's damage.
Big mistake! Luckily (or unluckily), I dragged it by the horns, as it almost immediately became very alive again. I was now attached to a mature spring-loaded bundle of aggression that obviously thought he was fighting for his life. If I let go, I knew it would definitely shred me with those horns. My mate who was born mad, and was made even madder by his experiences in 101 Battalion in 1987 and 1988 was shrieking with laughter while all of this was going on, and was of no help at all. At some stage, the bushbuck lost it's footing, and I was able to straddle it. All I could do was slowly twist it's neck, until I broke it. It took all my energy.