Kudu are what have drawn me to Africa three times now. There’s something magical about how they ghost so gracefully and mysteriously through the bush, and how dainty yet gigantic they are.
We photographed this wonderful bull early one morning, then commenced stalking the base of the hills.
Another grand bull was discovered browsing in thick bush about sixty metres away, but there was just too much brush in the way. He soon spooked away and we began to track him.
I’ve been impressed by the skills the trackers have each time I’ve visited Africa, but Sammy was shockingly brilliant in the way he could follow tracks, read animals and see through impenetrable bush.
Anyway, we saw the bull ahead a couple of times but he kept putting the distance between us and drawing us up into one of the mountains. We couldn’t close the gap and it was getting too noisy with the crunchy leaves and gravel. So we abandoned the kudu and climbed down. Once down in the valley, the same kudu barked mockingly at us from way up the top - I couldn’t see him but Sammy could. Then the kudu moved over the mountain top...
Sammy and Chris knew there was little food up there due to the drought, and although there was the possibility the bull would stay up there, there was also a chance he would sneak down the other side. A plan was hatched, Sammy’s eagle eyes spotted the wary bull sneaking down, and a long waiting game began. The kudu froze in the thick thorn bush near the top, surveying everything, searching for us. After a long time he began to move, but we weren’t sure which way, so we commenced stalking at one small step per minute. We caught him out coming our way underneath the ridge, suspicious but unable to pinpoint us. As he stepped into a gap a steep uphill shot was taken and the bull began crashing dead down the rocks.
I was trembling with relief at having made a clean job of it, and having not wasted the effort Sammy and Chris had put into this difficult hunt. Retrieving the bull from the mountain was a mission, but we got it done and very much appreciated the beautiful meat he put on our table. I am still in awe of this particular kudu bull, and in awe of kudu in general.
(Apologies for doing the face blur thing online, but my brother maintains it was my ugly mug that caused a kudu to trip and perish years ago in the Eastern Cape - true story - and I don’t want to cause trouble for any kudu reading this! No, you know how it is, putting your passion and energy into real conservation but getting judged harshly by folks with a limited understanding of or connection with nature...)