On the Trail of the Big Eland in Namibia

Eland - a moose antelope, is the largest living antelope species in the world. Trophy males weigh 750 - 1,000 kg, they are 240 - 345 cm long and 150 - 183 cm tall.   Females are substantially smaller. Both genders have straight horns with spirally twisted relief, which can be up to 115 cm long in males. Male horns are substantially stronger, while the female horns are thinner. Their fur is light brown with bluish-gray accents. These antelopes can have 9 -14 light stripes on each side of their body. A large neck lobe is a prominent male feature. They live in savannas, grassy plains and semi-desert areas of Southern Africa. They are among the slowest antelope species, but they can still jump over obstacles up to 2.5 meters high when they run away from the predators. Despite their size, they are food for lions, leopards, hyenas and hyena dogs. On average, moose antelopes live 15 - 20 years. Herds are divided into male and female herds. The female herds are larger and live in larger areas (up to 422 km2) and they are always led by an old female. During the dry season, they create largest herds together with other types of antelopes and zebras.   The elands are herbivores; they feed mostly on grasses, branches, leaves, various seeds pods and tuber roots. Their favorite food includes the Lavender Star Flower (Grewia Occidentalis). However, they quickly adapt their eating habits to the seasonal changes. They can survive the dry season on poor food. During high daytime temperatures, they feed during the night and sleep during the day in the shadow. They can travel large distances to find a source of water and they know how to manage water very well. As one of the few antelopes, they do not use flooded planes with sufficient food, because they are very heave and they would sink into the mud. They rather stay in the bush, where there are better conditions for them. Given how slow they are, the like staying in the bushes. The elands are breeding during the rainy season, when the males are watching the females and by tasting their urine they check if they are in heat. During the breeding season, there are fights, in which the males are fighting with their horns. The dominant male earns the right to breed with several females. Antelope pregnancy lasts nine months and usually only a single cub is born.

 

“Roland Ward’s Record of Big Game” lists the strongest eland trophy caught on the level of 46-1/2 inches (116.25 cm) and a girth of 12-1/4 inches (30.5 cm), where by the limit for being included in this prestigious “hall of fame” of eland game is on the level of 35 inches, i.e. 87.5 cm.   In order to catch a trophy eland, the hunter or his escort, must know his habits very well. Good trackers are a necessity, but you should be in good shape as well, so you could follow them for 10-15 km in loose sand, overcoming considerable height differences.   The freshness of droppings and especially the pounce imprint are good tracking aids, where the old bucks coveted for hunting have a square front imprint and not an oval one, like the younger bucks. When the old trophy males walk, their front legs make a distinct clicking sound. The sound itself is made by the pounce, which spreads out due to the weight of the body and then snaps together after making the step. If you hear this sound, you are about 25-30 m from a male. The louder the sound, the bigger the animal. Sometimes, these sounds can be heard at a distance of 100 meters. Early mornings are the best hunting time. The elands feed late in the night and they move from the warmer valleys only when the sun starts heating up the higher places. About an hour before the noon, they start to look for a cooler place to lay down. If you find a fresh track of a buck in the morning, you have a high chance of tracing him down.

 

And that’s exactly how my hunt for the eland was, but it wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. We started early morning, in a winter jacket, with a hat on my head and gloves, but these are also winter July mornings in Africa. Yes, winter, because Namibia is in the Southern hemisphere, so our summer months are their winter months, and ground frosts are nothing exceptional in this area. The cold amplifies being outside on the car, after all, sitting on the front frame of the Land Cruiser is the most efficient way of finding fresh tracks. From time to time, the car stops at the sign of the tracker, so we can verify the quality of the actual print in the sand. By the time this processed repeated several times, most of the crew was in shirts or t-shirts and the hat was replaced by a cowboy hat or a baseball cap and their faces were decorated by sunglasses. From a couple of degrees above zero we are quickly reaching pleasant temperatures. We are jumping off the car and we are again examining promising tracks. These are the tracks we are looking for; fresh and square. In the early morning hours, we are discovering the pounce prints of four adult eland males. We are exchanging glances and a couple of words with the driver to stay on the walkie talkie and in a group of four, together with Peter, Joseph, Rohan and I we are starting our hunt for the largest antelope in the world. The freshness of the tracks is high and so we tried to communicate by whispering and threading very carefully. In the intoxication of the hunt, we forgot to take important things, but even pigs dream of corn only after it is hungry, but that’s neither here or there. My technical companions in tracking were a shoulder-placed and a right hand-held Krughoff .30R Blaster (7,62 x 68 R) single-shot shotgun and observation binoculars with a rangefinder in a strap on my chest. Step by step we are walking through the African bush and the tracks of our elands are zigzagging between thorny bushes. Sometimes we have the feeling, we are toying with us. The presence of fresh and large droppings only confirm that we are on the right track. A path we’ve been tracking for 2 hours after getting off the car and the temperature in the meantime exceeded 20 degrees and the sun was reaching the daily peak of its sinusoid. I’m checking my wristwatch with a fleeting glance, which shows   a little under 7 km, at which point the tracker stopped.

 

We all squatted down approximately 200 m from a dense foliage, where the tracks of the elands we were tracking led. Our suspicion was correct, the tracked game found its refuge from the sun in the shade of dense trees and bushes. The fallen leaves were our advantage and so we could identify a herd of our males enjoying a siesta from a relative safe distance. “Yes, he is there, a large crop, almost black neck and dense legs. I can’t see the length, but I’ll bet my old shoes he is the capital male.” - this information from Rohan sounded in my ears as if Scrooge McDuck found a goldmine, but instead of dollars, I see an eland. Looking at the watches I notice my increased pulse, which I’m trying to control by regular breathing. Breathing, by which I discover that the time, kilometers and the ever-present African dust are asking for water, but there is no time for it. After a dynamic talk we know, we have to get closer to get a better shooting position and make sure there isn’t a bigger buck in the herd; after all, it is very difficult to see through the dense bushes and even more difficult to shoot. We proceed only in pairs; with Rohan in a bow, we advance directly but carefully, a slight breeze in our faces is in our favor. This stage of getting closer and checking through binoculars lasted less than 10 minutes; however, it felt like almost an hour and a mental year. We are getting to the desired distance of 70 m from the closest lying male, where squatting down we are discovering a tunnel; a relatively clear space for a shot. Rohan, after a short while, indicates by spreading the shooting stick, that the closes one is ours. The one we want has the same tunnel as we, he saw us and he is getting up just like us. “You don’t have time, shoot!” - the order sounded.   I rammed the one-shot into the stick with a simultaneous pull of the trigger forward and suddenly I see only bushes and a misty shape of an eland. Pride comes before the fall; just because there is a tunnel squatting down does not mean it is also when standing up. The animal made a fatal step forward and revealed the front part of his body. There was a shot; I used this moment and pulled the trigger. Honestly, I have not seen the trophy itself, not even once, I was relying on the extensive experience of my companion. Undoubtedly, the projectile found its target, which we have verified on the picture the squatting Peter took behind us. Yes, he got it, a sharp jump and a mark of the wound made our doubts disappear and so we are all moving again for another shot. There is no color in the wide scope of the escape; the only significance is a footprint and a sign he is not fully stepping on the left side. To be honest, this is where my understanding and experience ends. Without the local tracker, who knows exactly where the animal went, I would be lost. It is extraordinary to watch him work as based on a rolled stone, pressure of the footprint in the sand, or broken leaves, he knows it is the shot buck. We see elands in the distance and the presence of ours in the herd is not a good sign. “He did not separate, they will pull him.” - said Joseph and continued in the direction of the tracks and we behind him. We have bee tracing the tracks for a while; we are driven by adrenaline, just like the animal, as well as our hunter’s duty to end the suffering of the shot animal. On the upside, occasionally, we find color. The daily temperature culminates at 28 degrees and the dryness in the mouth reminds us of what we have forgotten since the beginning; water. The value of the money decreases. You are willing to spend 20 Euros for a bottle of water and even 50 Euros for a cold beer, which increases with every kilometer. “How does their Radler taste like? Like lemon?” - sounded behind me. Peter, with his own humor and a grin on his face is trying to lighten the situation. “Try it again and you’ll get the butt in the face” - was my good-spirited vendetta.   The tracks lead into an area, which crosses the road, so we are notifying the driver by walkie talkie to get to the designated place. A mirage or a car? In the distance, we see Leroy the driver with a cooler and double the numbers on our watches as the last time. We quickly replenish fluids and it’s back on the track of the eland, which in the meantime separated from the herd, which delighted us in our fight with the time of the day as much as water and Peter’s Radler. The eland is still in front of us, no more than 200 m, but due to the dense bush we can only hear him, but not see. We speed up the pace as time advances. The coloring is getting more significant. With a rifle in my hand, I’m avoid thorns in my walk, when   suddenly in the open space we see our eland. Not hesitating even for a second, I shot free-handed on the back side of his body, where none of us knew if it was a hit or just a shot in the dark. The sun was setting down; we have to get him today!, was a unified motto without any communication and so running, we started pursuing the animal. Unfortunately, the eland and the sun on the horizon were of different opinion. We have marked the last spot with a tissue and exhausted we sat next to each other with our hands down, like sparrows on a wire and waited for the car. These are the moments where you review what have you done wrong and what could you have done better. We walked a little under 22 kilometers in a difficult terrain; a difficult day, both physically and mentally. “Heads up; early morning, we continue in this spot and we will get him.” - said Rohan encouragingly.   Falling asleep was difficult …

 

At dawn, without Peter, who accompanied the rest of the group to the Etosha National Park, we returned to the designated spot. Quickly tracing color, we are getting to the spot where the eland spent his night, about 800 m from the place where we stopped tracking him the previous night. A pool of fresh blood in the place where he laid down suggests he is not far. Consternated by the possible proximity of the eland, where are searching for where he could go and, in the distance, we hear a clear clatter of his pounces. After jointly pointing to that direction, after a short search, we are in range. The eland falls down after a precise shot in his neck. At first, I was not happy from the trophy I still did not see clearly, nor from the fact that the animal did not suffer. Spontaneously, after the body hit the ground I accept, but I also give heartfelt gratulations and thanks in the form of hugs or high fives. We are approaching the animal. By squatting down and patting his face I apologize to him for the suffering and I also thank all the participants as well as Diana, the patroness of hunting. Of course, we, and mostly I, am interested in where the shots landed, so we are checking the eland by posing him for a picture. The first shot went through the left shoulder blade, hit the lungs and remained in the body. The second shot, about which I was convinced that it hit the target, entered the body softly, across the vital organs and remained under the skin. The incredibly tenacious and vital animal, after all, like any African animal, which has to travel long kilometers and many obstacles in the form of the terrain or predators to get food and water. In the local language, I am noticing a temperamental communication between Rohan and Joseph over the trophy itself, where they made a bet if the horns will have more than 36 inches, i.e. 90 cm. However, we will find out only after we get back to the farm. “Due to the inaccessible terrain, we will have to take it apart here and then take it to the car. I’ll go get the rest of the team.” - says Rohan and I know I will use the time alone with my eland. After about two hours, workers arrive, to carefully prepare the trophy for preparation and take all the meat to the cars, which stopped no closer than a kilometer away. The organized work, professionality and diligence of the locals was reminiscent of an anthill, so within two hours, we had the approximately 800 kg heavy eland loaded in the car and we were on our way to the farm. I was impressed! After returning to out accommodations, I enjoyed a little relaxation next to the pool and eagerly waited for the rest of the expedition to return from Etosha, where I couldn’t got due to the search. The congratulations were all the more special, as they were in the form of a hug from my son, a kiss from my wife and a firm handshake of my father. Did I forget to mention that this hunting trip was also a family trip? My apologies! Africa is the ideal place for family and closes friends. We spent the rest of the day in a close debate next to the fire discussing not only my hunting stories. The debate was spiced also with the fact that the eland trophy reached te level of 37.5 inches, i.e. 94 cm, so it earned the right to be recorded in the above-mentioned “Roland Ward’s Record of Big Game”. The meat, or more precisely, the meal prepared from the caught eland was served the next day for dinner, after all, together with the oryx, it is among the tastiest meats.

 

Yes, I could have written a story about my hunt for the Hartmann’s mountain zebra, Black-faced impala, oryx or kudu, I caught with a single shot to the heart, but I picked this story. The story has a place among my hunting memories and I am grateful for it. Could I have done something better? You can always to something better or different! Hail to the hunt and the savanna!