Every schoolboy fantasizes about living on the wild frontier-or at least they did when I was a kid. TV was in its infancy and, with the exception of a Saturday afternoon matinee, most of our vicarious experiences were stimulated through books. Imaginations ran wild while reading stories of Jim Bridger, John Coulter and Lewis and Clark. Then came the Davy Crockett craze. Young boys envisioned themselves tracking (wild Indians) and stalking (game). To kids nowadays, tracking means correcting the play of their VCR and stalking is a crime against women. The world has changed.
I was five years old when we moved from the country to the city. In those days there were no suburbs. Where the concrete stopped, the farms began. Where I lived there was a buffer of about twenty acres between the two. It was known as “The Bird Sanctuary.” At age eight or nine I would leave the asphalt and steal away into the woods. I would journey down the stream looking for animal tracks. I could identify the footprints of raccoon, opossum, squirrel, rat and rabbit. I learned to track the animals to their dens and burrows. I made plaster casts of their tracks. It was an exciting time.
My tracking skills became more finely tuned a few years later as a Boy Scout. I could now estimate the age of tracks by the sharpness of their imprint. I could recognize disturbance to vegetation.
In the Marine Corps, instructors created “enemy” trails using outdated human blood from local hospitals. We were taught how to follow those trails and determine their age and the nature, severity and type of wound by the color and composition of the blood. We learned the significance of the stool in determining the age of “sign” and the health of the prey. We learned to identify a man or women, and sometimes their age, by urine patterns. In land mine warfare school I learned that the Viet Cong marked their mines, but the markings were subtle and hard to see unless one was extremely observant of the environment. On at least one occasion this skill saved my life.
A few years later, as an Army Ranger, I attended “graduate level” courses on tracking. I learned the importance of ground color in determining the age of tracks and that color is dependent upon temperature, humidity, time of day and season. I learned to more acutely evaluate damage to spider webs, grass and foliage. I became more astute at reading the mind of the quarry and thinking like them to determine their course of action.
My skills came into play in the Special Forces (Green Beret) where I was sometimes called upon to teach classes on escape, evasion and survival and how to avoid leaving a trail for the enemy to follow.
Then came a period of my life when I was financially destitute. For over a year I relied on field skills and experience in the bush to put meat on the table. But, except for combat, nowhere have my skills been more tested than hunting Big Game in Africa. Like in combat, a mistake can be fatal. The hunter may become the hunted. Wounded or stalked game, like enemy soldiers, often circle around behind the hunter and ambush him. It happens quickly. There is little time to respond. Additionally, there is always a danger of being stalked by hungry predatory animals, hostile natives or guerilla soldiers of some internal political faction. There is also the very real risk of being bitten by highly venomous snakes or insects. As in war, attention must be focused not only on the tracks in front of you, but also on what’s going on around you.
I’ve been in the African bush over a dozen times. On most occasions I’ve had the privilege to observe the tracking skills of native Bushmen. Small in physical stature, these amazing tribesmen are a simple and peaceful people. Unfortunately they have been all but wiped out by tribal warfare over the years. As they move into the 21st century, their skills, no longer needed for survival, are being lost. But the proficiency of the few who have retained the old ways is mesmerizing.
I’ve watched them utilize the senses: sight, smell, hearing and intuition (and to a lesser degree, touch and taste) in the relentless pursuit of their quarry. With the naked eye they see things at a thousand yards that I can’t see with binoculars. They see almost imperceptible spoor at three feet that I don’t see until it is pointed out.
I understand basic movement patterns (humans and big game take the same evasive zig zag action to mislead predators), but their acute knowledge of movement patterns specific to each animal is incredible.
If they lose the trail, they’ll gather together in conference. Sitting on their haunches, in barely audible terms, they softly communicate in Fana Galo (an amalgamation of the five basic African dialects and Africaans). Their business-like conversations are punctuated with numerous gestures and an occasional “hmmm” which indicates acknowledgement rather than agreement. Then these masters of the bush are off again.
Prospecting is much like tracking. In both cases you are looking for an elusive prey. In both cases you need to understand the thought processes of your quarry. And, in both cases you need to utilize your senses and be observant to what’s happening. Unlike traditional tracking, you don’t need years of practice or inherited intuition to spot “sign”. The quarry will present itself to you. The most important skill required is your sense of hearing. You need to educate yourself to listen to what is being said by each and every person that you come in contact with. Once you become skilled at listening, you will find that 100% of the folks that you engage in conversation are targets. They will present themselves for a “clean shot.” They’ll bring up the business. All you have to be able to do is pick up “sign.” What is “sign”? In network marketing it’s a complaint. That complaint will be about something in their lives related to the lack of time or money.
Doubt what I’m saying? To learn to pick up “sign,” start carrying a small pocket notebook and, after the fact, document the first few minutes of your conversations with others. You will find that almost the first words out of everyone’s mouths are complaints. This is an opportunity to “shoot,” but because you are not used to listening, at first you’ll miss this “sign.” You may even forget to jot down the conversation to validate what I’m saying. Once you see that notebook in your pocket however, you’ll remember why it’s there. Shortly thereafter, you’ll begin to develop the habit of keeping your diary. As you become more diligent about this process, you’ll become aware that every conversation provides you with an opening to respond with
the business. Soon, you’ll begin to recognize these opportunities as they are happening, rather than after the fact. This usually takes about twenty times of logging conversations. “Oh yeah, Bob complained that he was working too much overtime.” “Louise said she needed new living room furniture.” Do you get the message?
You’ve read “sign”. You’ve got the quarry in your crosshairs. Your business opportunity is the magic bullet that will bag your prey. Your killing shot is the solution to their time and money problem. Now comes the tricky part, “squeezing off the shot.” You must be able to pull the trigger and score a clean hit. If you miss, you’ll scare away your prey. He or she will become wary and, like the impala or the whitetail deer, bolt the next time they see you. Most likely, you’ll never get another shot.
How do you score that hit without saying the wrong thing? That critical subject is covered in two chapters, Big Game Hunting, Bagging the Heavy Hitter and Small Game Hunting, The Stability of Your Organization in Volume Two, entitled Continuing the Journey.
In the mean time, purchase that pocket notebook and begin logging those complaints until you learn to pick them up in real time. When you can do that subconsciously, you’ll be ready to learn how to shoot.