Article 13
"The "Thirty Mile" Namibian Eland Bull"
Cap-n-Dave Funk
July 27th 2007
Copyright © Dave Funk
One of the first things you learn as a young attack pilot is not to attempt catching an opponent’s aircraft from behind when he is substantially faster than you. Perhaps hunters should follow that advice, but had I followed my original training, I would have never even started out chasing an Eland bull in the dry, high desert country of Namibia, hunting with Pieter Strofburg of Nimrod Safaris, east of Windhoek, Namibia.
Day one, “Take what the bush gives you…”
We started out my first day by checking the zeros on my rifles. One thing about Namibia, you need be ready and able to make long shots. We then proceeded to check out a few watering holes for Eland tracks. Not finding anything suitable for a follow up, we did locate a large Hartman’s zebra herd and decided to follow up on a stallion in that group. After a two-mile tracking job, a group of giraffe spooked as we moved into position for a shot and the zebra took off running. I had no idea how many times I would have this problem on this trip.
It was just after lunch that we decided to set up on a watering trough located on the main water pipeline running to Namibia’s western coast right through the ranch. It is an area known to hold several very large mountain zebra stallions and a gemsbok bull that is over 40 inches. It was at this point that I learned how true Pieter’s statement about taking what the bush gives you.
Just prior to sunset, a monster Red Hartebeest came in with his herd of about fifteen cows and calves. Both Etienne Langeveldt, my PH (who proved to be a twenty seven year old Mountain Goat!), and Marcus, his tracker, became very excited at the herd bull in this group. Etienne said it would easily make SCI Gold. A few seconds later, after a high shoulder shot, he was down in his tracks. That Red Hartebeest scored 71 5/8”, and should place him very high in the SCI record books.
Marcus and Captain Dave with the Red Hartebeest.
It was a great ending to my first day of hunting in Namibia.
Day two of the pursuit
Although I was up at 4 am, still very much out of my element on my second full day in Namibia and my fifth day in Africa, that morning held no clue how well I would sleep later that evening. Etienne, Marcus and I checked several watering holes before dawn; it was at the third one that we discovered two sets of rather large Eland bull tracks. Marcus announced at 6:15 am, that “now we walk”. After about an hour of very slow going, Marcus finally sorted out the two biggest bulls tracks from the rest in the very rocky Namibian soil. He managed to keep us on the track despite the difficult conditions and, after almost three hours, we closed enough distance to catch up to the bachelor herd feeding on a high plateau. After a very short stalk, I was in position on the sticks awaiting a clear shot when a group of Gemsbok and Hartman’s Zebras caught our wind and spooked between the Eland and us. Now it was off to the races! Our Eland herd bolted, but it appeared they did not know what, if anything was chasing them.
After another two hours, we caught another glimpse of the bulls. They became suspicious, and despite not seeing us, they again trotted off as only Eland can. We sat down, somewhat dejected, and radioed for the truck to bring our lunch. After a short break, we were back on the track again. The third time, when we were getting close, it was a Kudu bull’s grunt that sent our quarry running. We could hear them, but neither they, nor the three of us, ever saw the herd as it thundered off. Twice more between then and 7 pm, we would hear them again, but not once did any of the three of us see the bull. It was only their tracks that told us they were there. After a long, 23 or more mile tracking job, we radioed for the truck again. It was a dark and quiet ride to back to the lodge.
I never remember my feet hurting so much as we planned the next day to pick up the track where we left off that night.
Day three…
I was in the middle of a good dream when the knock on the door came at 4:30 am. Thirty minutes later, we were on the road headed back to the spot we had left the track the night before. It was just before 6 am when we started out again. Within thirty minutes, Marcus had located the spot where the Eland had bedded down the night before, and just as they did the on the first day of the pursuit, they were moving constantly down wind. With the hot and swirling wind conditions, the Eland were constantly changing directions. Three hours and a lot of miles later, we were within fifty yards and Marcus could see them, but the herd was concealed in a ravine and I could not get in a position for a shot when another Kudu grunt sent them running off again. Twice now in two days, it was off to the races again.
About an hour later, as we crossed a road it became apparent that the bulls were trying to circle back to their home area. Now we had a chance.
Etienne radioed for the truck to bring two extra trackers; he had a new plan. After two days and over thirty miles of walking, I was ready to try anything.
We had only a short wait for the crew to arrive with more men, lunch and much needed water. With humidity of less than ten percent and temperatures approaching 35C/95F, it was getting pretty hard to stay with this group of bulls.
The new trackers were put on the track and we leapfrogged almost five miles ahead to a series of rock piles. In the Midwestern US, we would call them mountains. Those piles created a natural barrier for the Eland and despite the bad smell from the hundreds of baboon droppings baking in the hot sun that were covering the rocks, we managed to set up an ambush position high above the valley floor.
Almost right on cue, the Eland approached our position ninety minutes later. Marcus saw them first from his position four hundred yards away on an adjoining hill top. As he and Etienne discussed the two biggest bulls via radio, another group of Gemsbok spooked our bulls. What was to be an easy 100 yard shot, now appeared to be lost forever.
When training, prairie dog shooting and High Power competition paid off…
The bachelor herd veered sharply away from our position and the running Gemsbok, but then they made a bee line for a reservoir to our right. Suddenly, the bush had given me a second chance. The bull I had chased for two days was the second one in the group. He made the mistake of stopping with the front third of his body exposed between the trees. I was in a prone position, on the top of those smelly rocks, my Blaser’s R93 Semi-weight rifle, in 338 Winchester Magnum, and rifle sling clinched tightly in my left hand, with my fist acting like a monopod as I squeezed the trigger. I’m sure in Jeff Cooper’s book, The Art of the Rifle, on page 53, where the Colonel has a photo of the Hawkins position, he was thinking of this moment. I was slightly rolled off to the left, in a modified Olympic prone position as the shot broke perfectly. As I came out of recoil from the Federal Premium 225 grain Trophy Bonded Bear Claw bullet, I could see the Eland bull still in the air, having jumped straight up. The expected reaction from a perfect heart shot. Moments later, we herd the tell tail slap of the high velocity bullet striking home.
I’m not sure who was more elated at that moment, but I don’t think Etienne even touched to ground as he bounded off that rock pile. We ran to the spot where my bull was at the shot. After a very short ninety eight paces, the Eland bull, a lifetime of dreams, over thirty miles of tracking, with his huge dewlap and 38” horns that later we would find scored 99 6/8”, was down, the Trophy Bonded bullet under the skin on the off side shoulder. It was a perfect shot. I had reservations about using a 338WinMag on Eland, having read that the 9.3x62 was a better choice, but it was a classic broadside shot, at 330 yards, and the recovered bullet looked like it came out of a catalog photo.
Captain Dave & Marcus with the “Thirty Mile Bull”.
I could have returned to the US at that moment, the trip a total success, but I still managed to cull several animals, including a fine Mountain Zebra and a 12-inch Warthog while in Namibia. With over 170 square miles of property, first class lodges and a great staff, Pieter runs one of the most respected plains game hunting concessions in all of Africa. I cannot wait to return to take on the Kalahari Desert in pursuit of its monster Gemsbok, Steenbok and Springbok.