the side where a scattered mob of eland warranted a
closer look.
About a kilometre later, we peered over a rocky
outcrop to glass the area. “For a trophy bull” JJ
murmured “we’re looking for imposing bulk –
and I mean massive shoulders, back hump and
neck, large dewlap and a thick matt or rug of
forehead hair. Then check the horns. The bull on
the right behind the younger one is–”
He didn’t get to finish as an explosive snort made
me jump. Some blesbok had popped up behind
us unseen and caught our scent when they were
only a few metres away. They wheeled around and
stampeded, startling us and taking the eland with
them for 500m or more. The eland stopped then,
unsure of what the disturbance was, which was lucky
as they can trot for miles. Now a dozen bulls were all
together and I could see what JJ meant by bulk; three
animals stood out as massive.
“Too far away, we’ll let them quieten right down”
JJ said. “The trackers will keep an eye on them
and we will try to head them off.” I was carrying
JJ’s 308 with 168gn hand loads and I started to feel
undergunned; these boys were giant antelopes.
Before leaving NZ, I had watched some videos online of eland
soaking up lead and covering big distances.
We sidled around further below the main crest to an area where
JJ thought the bulls may drop to cover off the tops. He spoke
on the radio in Xhosa to the guys over 1.5 kms away who had
unobstructed views of the eland. The animals were moving but
had changed course away from where we were heading.
“OK – alright – OK!” JJ said, which I was to learn over the next
week meant anything but ‘OK’. Again, we changed direction to
pursue the eland, which were gaining height. The radio crackled;
the herd had moved into a depression just out of the wind behind
the main ridge, where we could possibly get a shot. JJ gestured
up the hill and we walked quickly for some time. When we got
near the crest we crawled, cutting sideways over a spur to try and
get them into view. JJ spotted some horn tips and manoeuvred us
sideways, bringing us in to 200 metres. The eland were all groupedtogether as I slid forward, making use of low vegetation.
I had a good rest over spread sticks. “The best bull is in the
middle at the back – just breathe and wait” JJ told me “they
will move.” They did eventually, and then the big bull was alone
and side on. I aimed low at the shoulder crease, the rifle jumped
and the ‘whump’ of a solid impact bounced back. I worked the
bolt, while in the scope my view blurred as the cantering mob
moved as one. I didn’t know which animal I had hit until one bull
veered off in an arc with his head low. He staggered in a wide
circle before collapsing.
I was surprised and expected him to get to his feet – but he was
finished. Walking up, I could see that the size of the beast was
incredible. We waited for the trackers to collect the Toyota and
bounce their way around to us. It took four of us to set the bull
up for photos. He was an old fellow with gnarly horns that were
pitted and cracked around the base, indicating his age. A very nice
trophy with plenty of character.600-plus kilos of
heavy horned Cape
eland bullAugust / September 2019 ~ NZ HUNTER MAGAZINE 21the side where a scattered mob of eland warranted a
closer look.
About a kilometre later, we peered over a rocky
outcrop to glass the area. “For a trophy bull” JJ
murmured “we’re looking for imposing bulk –
and I mean massive shoulders, back hump and
neck, large dewlap and a thick matt or rug of
forehead hair. Then check the horns. The bull on
the right behind the younger one is–”
He didn’t get to finish as an explosive snort made
me jump. Some blesbok had popped up behind
us unseen and caught our scent when they were
only a few metres away. They wheeled around and
stampeded, startling us and taking the eland with
them for 500m or more. The eland stopped then,
unsure of what the disturbance was, which was lucky
as they can trot for miles. Now a dozen bulls were all
together and I could see what JJ meant by bulk; three
animals stood out as massive.
“Too far away, we’ll let them quieten right down”
JJ said. “The trackers will keep an eye on them
and we will try to head them off.” I was carrying
JJ’s 308 with 168gn hand loads and I started to feel
undergunned; these boys were giant antelopes.
Before leaving NZ, I had watched some videos online of eland
soaking up lead and covering big distances.
We sidled around further below the main crest to an area where
JJ thought the bulls may drop to cover off the tops. He spoke
on the radio in Xhosa to the guys over 1.5 kms away who had
unobstructed views of the eland. The animals were moving but
had changed course away from where we were heading.
“OK – alright – OK!” JJ said, which I was to learn over the next
week meant anything but ‘OK’. Again, we changed direction to
pursue the eland, which were gaining height. The radio crackled;
the herd had moved into a depression just out of the wind behind
the main ridge, where we could possibly get a shot. JJ gestured
up the hill and we walked quickly for some time. When we got
near the crest we crawled, cutting sideways over a spur to try and
get them into view. JJ spotted some horn tips and manoeuvred us
sideways, bringing us in to 200 metres. The eland were all grouped
together as I slid forward, making use of low vegetation.
I had a good rest over spread sticks. “The best bull is in the
middle at the back – just breathe and wait” JJ told me “they
will move.” They did eventually, and then the big bull was alone
and side on. I aimed low at the shoulder crease, the rifle jumped
and the ‘whump’ of a solid impact bounced back. I worked the
bolt, while in the scope my view blurred as the cantering mob
moved as one. I didn’t know which animal I had hit until one bull
veered off in an arc with his head low. He staggered in a wide
circle before collapsing.
I was surprised and expected him to get to his feet – but he was
finished. Walking up, I could see that the size of the beast was
incredible. We waited for the trackers to collect the Toyota and
bounce their way around to us. It took four of us to set the bull
up for photos. He was an old fellow with gnarly horns that were
pitted and cracked around the base, indicating his age. A very nice
trophy with plenty of character.600-plus kilos of
heavy horned Cape
eland bullAugust / September 2019 ~ NZ HUNTER MAGAZINE 21