You would have to travel many hours, most likely, before you succeeded in bringing down a wildebeest.
My first shot in Africa was at a wildebeest at three hundred yards.

The bullet struck, but so did the wildebeest.

He struck out for northern Africa, and when last seen was still headed earnestly for the north pole.

I am consoled in thinking that my shot must have inflicted more surprise than injury and so I hope he has now fully recovered, wilder and beastier than of yore.
My last shot in Africa, the day before leaving for the coast, was at a wildebeest an hour or so out of Nairobi.

This time I missed entirely and repeatedly and the wildebeest remains unscathed to roam the broad plains of the Athi until some better or luckier shot passes his way.