“We’re not going to get any closer. There’s too many eyes and not enough cover. Can you take him from here?” questioned Fred Burchell. Before I could answer, he added, “The bull on the far left. His horns are at least 38-inches. The big cow right in the middle is about 42. I want to leave her as she’s a breeder. Shoot the bull.” I nodded and centered the crosshairs on the bull’s broadside chest.
We were on Fred’s expansive property in north central Namibia culling gemsbok oryx. Upon my arrival Fred asked me to help remove some cows, but also bulls that did not come to the standard he was looking for in the herds that lived on his property. It was an invitation I greatly appreciated and gladly accepted.
“How far?” I questioned, as I got into a comfortable prone shooting position. Fred suggested the bull was 400-yards away. I knew my 30–06, sighted with Hornady 165 gr, would drop about 26 inches at that distance. I raised the crosshairs about 12 to 13-inches above the top of the bull’s broadside back. There was no breeze. I took a deep breath, let it all out then gently squeezed the trigger. At the shot the bull bucked, kicked high, then took off running. I chambered another round and got back on target and was about to squeeze the trigger on a running target when he fell. I stayed on the bull for another minute, ready to shoot again if the bull tried to get back on his feet. He did not.
Several minutes later we quickly photographed the bull then loaded him up and headed back to the property’s headquarters where the meat from the gemsbok would be properly cared for. “The boys will save the skull for you. I plan for you to shoot some more. Your name is on the permit that will allow you to cull and shoot several on my property,” said my old friend.
As we sat around the mopane wood fire that night, I recalled my first safari which I had done with Frontier Safaris, owned by Fred’s son Barry. On that hunt I had taken my first gemsbok, a long-horned cow. I had shot it with a friend’s 30–378 Weatherby Magnum after a long, though fun stalk.
Since that South African Eastern Cape safari, I had hunted Africa numerous times, including several trips with Barry’s father, Fred. I ended up shooting numerous gemsbok on the Burchell property, both bulls and cows. Most were shot with either a 30–06 or 338 Federal, which was brand-new back then. I was impressed at how the latter round worked on tough and tenacious African antelope.
After several days of primarily culling gemsbok, as well as a few springbok, Fred said, “A friend has invited us to the red sands of the Kalahari. We leave tomorrow.” At that point I had not yet seen the red sands. It sounded perfect to me.
The drive was long but fun, listening to Fred regale stories of past hunts. A quick night in camp and we met the local rancher, who immediately loaded me into what we would have called a dune buggy back home. Then I learned how the locals hunted gemsbok, chasing them and then shooting them. We chased several, but thankfully I never got a shot. I was probably holding on for dear life when there might have been an opportunity.
That afternoon Fred and I hunted on our own, spotting and stalking. Late in the afternoon we spotted a small herd. One was an ancient cow, bordering on being emaciated, something very seldom seen among gemsbok. “Larry, she’s not 40-inches but close… She is ancient! You should take her.” I followed Fred’s advice and a little while later we loaded her for the trip to camp.
Fast forward to other hunts for gemsbok, this time with Corne Kruger and his various Professional Hunters, but still in Namibia. After several trips to what used to be known as German Southwest Africa, I fell head over heels in love with that country. Over a 20-year period, during which time I hunted Africa quite frequently, I returned many times to Namibia to hunt her bountiful game; elephants, hippo, buffalo, leopard, eland, kudu, gemsbok on down to warthog and numerous species in between. Always there were gemsbok, which were not only fun to hunt, but were truly impressive and challenging, and absolutely delicious table fare, no matter how it was prepared.
One of my most enjoyable and fun gemsbok hunts in Namibia took place in the Namib Desert hunting with Corne Kruger. We camped in tents on the desert and dined on zebra fillets, kudu schnitzel, and gemsbok cutlets, among other most delicious game meat cooked over mopane coals. We hunted the steep canyon walls of the desert mountains for klipspringers, all the while looking for greater kudu reputedly living in the mountains. I was able to take an ancient klipspringer. We only found remains of kudu killed by leopards, no live animals. After several days of hunting and thoroughly enjoying the mountains, we headed back to the sandy plains to hunt gemsbok.
Finding gemsbok was easy, but getting close enough for a shot, not so. On that hunt I brought a 375 Ruger, shooting Hornady 300 gr DGX and DGS ammo. I had started the hunt in the far northeastern part of Namibia, in what was once known as the Caprivi Strip, but is now called the Zambezi Strip, hunting Cape buffalo. With it, I felt comfortable taking the odd 500-yard shot, but beyond, it would be questionable whether I could place a bullet in a six-inch circle.
Corne and I were driving to an area where a 40-inch-plus gemsbok bull, the ‘Holy Grail of Gemsbokdom’ had been reported. No sooner had we stopped to glass than we spotted said monstrous bull. The only problem was he was well over 1,000-yards away. Quickly we planned a stalk. If it all worked properly we should be able to get within 500 or so yards of the monstrous bull.
We dropped behind a sandy ridge and took off at a run. Mind you running is not particularly easy in deep, loose sand. The first time we popped up to where we could again see the long-horned bull, he had moved farther to our initial left and was still at least 700-yards distant.
After catching my breath, we again dropped below the sandy ridge, out of sight of the gemsbok and ran.
We had run another 300-yards angling to where we had last seen the gemsbok before and again peaked over the sand ridge. As we did, the big bull with his cows started running directly away from us. Obviously simply doing what gemsbok do. There was no way we could have been winded or seen, but that was the last we saw of them.
Later that same day, after looking over many, many gemsbok, I decided to shoot a bull that at first glance was 39-inches with very heavy bases. A truly great gemsbok any and everywhere else. I was thrilled with my gemsbok, in all likelihood the biggest gemsbok oryx bull I will ever take.
During that same hunt, I also had an opportunity at what was likely a 44-inch or longer cow. I could have taken her easily. In retrospect I probably should have taken her, but I kept thinking there might be another chance at the 46-inch bull. Alas, it didn’t — but that’s hunting.
Photo credit: Larry Weishuhn Outdoors