by Franco Giulietti

Kudu: The Grey Ghost of Africa

The Kudu is sly, secretive, suspicious and elusive. Their senses are exceptional. All these qualities place them in a class of their own. A Kudu can jump a two meter fence with ease and subsequently leave a frustrated hunter behind to come back another day – once again.

Although the Kudu is one of the largest antelopes and weigh in at 230 kg plus, you won’t see him unless he makes a movement. Their coloring is a pale grey-brown which provides the perfect camouflage for the bush. A trophy Kudu bull’s horns spiral wide with up to three twists – sometimes exceeding 5 ft in length.

To claim a Kudu trophy bull, you have to be patient; you have to know your challenger; you have to have good legs and excellent eye sight. You have to move without a sound. When the Kudu cow sense danger, she barks a warning to her fellow Kudu friends. When the Kudu bull sense danger, he simply disappears without a sound – from there the given name grey ghost of Africa.

I can tell you one thing; there are few things which cause so many mixed emotions when you hear a Kudu cow bark. It humbles the hunter’s heart. A cold chill runs down my spine every time I hear that commanding bark. One is torn between disappointment and admiration for this remarkable child of nature. Generations of secret adventures, of sorrow, triumph and defiance are locked in that bark.

By the time my client, Mario, arrived on the farm I already had a blazing fire on display. After he settled in he joined me by the fire where I prepared him for the next day seeing that this was his first Kudu hunt. We shared hunting stories and expectations and by the time we went to bed, we have become friends. This is one of the wonderful strangeness about a blazing fire under the African sky – people bond and become friends for life.

The next morning I first took Mario for a few practice shots to make sure his rifle shoots accurately. I was also relieved to see that Mario shot very well. It does pose a problem when the hunter doesn’t shoot well. Then we went looking for the Kudu. Keeping all the qualities of the Kudu in mind, I decided to go to a specific look-out point, search for the Kudu and then move closer.

Where we are in the Eastern Cape you find Kudu in thick bush which makes it extremely difficult to conduct a walk-and-stalk hunt. The Kudu will hear you and disappear without you even knowing that he was there. While the Kudu is on the move he is vulnerable and this gives the hunter a much needed advantage.

So, we started a long walk up the mountain. This is where the good legs come into the picture. Half way up we stopped for a moment to drink some water. Then we resumed our walk further up the mountain. Finally we reached a look-out point where we could wait until we spot the Kudu herd.

We blended in very well with the bush and had a wide angle view down hill. We made ourselves comfortable and enjoyed the silence.

It was still early and we had enough time to heal our city souls with nature’s tranquility. The birds were chirping and the rays of the rising sun painted the sky with pastel pink and orange. A misty blanket covering the bush was slowly disappearing into thin air.

Patience is a test many hunters fail at some point on their hunting expeditions. While being patient you also have to remain alert and prepared. To our surprise a herd of Kudu came by much closer, so there was no need for us to move closer to them. I showed Mario, pointing in the Kudus' direction.

Unfortunately he was caught off guard, partly because the tranquil environment made him pensive and partly because of excitement when he saw the Kudu herd. He fell for the Kudu’s charm and admired them for a moment too long. By the time he was ready to take the shot, the grey ghosts disappeared with a triumphant bark – a bark that echoed in Mario’s ears for the rest of the day – mocking him; inviting him for another challenge the next day.

We didn’t see another Kudu for the rest of the day. Mario was very quiet around the camp fire that evening. He had his first brush with the notorious Kudu and he was hooked – obsessively hooked.

The next morning a very determined Mario greeted me and off we went for a second time. That morning the air was particularly cold. Mario’s legs were stiff and aching from the previous day, but he ignored it. His need to silence the Kudu’s bark in his ears was much stronger than the discomfort he felt.

This time we went to a different look-out point and waited – prepared and alert. Mario realized this was not a casual outing or game watching – this was serious business. We scanned the valley below us.

Our patience was tested for hours before a magnificent Kudu bull showed himself. He was alone and had huge horns proudly towering up to the sky. Then the rest of the herd appeared and they were all enjoying the warmth of the sun baking on their beautiful big bodies.

We carefully got up and walked towards the Kudu herd via a detour, keeping the light breeze in our favour. We walked at a snail's pace, carefully deciding where to put each and every footstep – it was imperative to be stealth and silent. When we were about 170 meters away I showed Mario a firm branch on which he could rest his rifle.

The same magnificent grey ghost we saw earlier was still there. He stood like a statue – observing. Mario didn’t waste any time. He took a shot and the bull sprinted away in silence. Highly annoyed with himself Mario wanted to take another shot, but I assured him that was a dead Kudu running.

When Mario took the shot I saw a small puff of dust where he hit the bull and it was a perfect lung shot. It was merely instinct that made the Kudu sprint away, but after about 60 meters the trophy bull collapsed. I took Mario down to where I thought the Kudu would be. When we found the Kudu bull I congratulated Mario on a well executed shot.

Mario couldn’t stop smiling. Finally the bark in his ears was silent. We waited for the boys to join us, told them to gut the Kudu bull and then it was time for Mario’s initiation.

We have a tradition to initiate the local hunters when they shoot a specific animal for the first time. Just for the record, my clients have an option to participate in this tradition. If they feel they would rather not, that’s fine too.

After the boys gutted the Kudu bull, I asked Mario to take off his jacket. The boys were all laughing excitedly – they knew what was about to happen, but Mario was blissfully unaware. I asked Mario to come and look at the Kudu. He knelt next to me and as he moved his head forward to look, I scooped up hands full of blood and splashed his face.

Mario was stunned. The grey ghost’s blood was running down his face. I splashed him again and stood back. Mario was gasping for breath and wiped the blood out of this eyes and mouth while recovering from the shock. Then Mario burst out laughing and proved he had a good sense of humor. We concluded the initiation with a bloody handshake.

I took a few photos to preserve this moment in time. It took us a few hours to get back to the farm before Mario could wash the blood off and get dressed in clean clothes. We relaxed and enjoyed the sweet taste of a successful hunt.

This was a day Mario would never forget – the day he lived up to the challenge and got drenched in the blood of a grey ghost of Africa.