by Franco Giulietti

My Rowland Ward Gnu

I’ve shot quite a few Gnu in my time, but never managed to shoot a Gnu trophy bull that qualified for Rowland Ward.

A few years ago I went hunting in the Graaff-Reinet district of the Eastern Cape in South Africa. There my patience was rewarded when I finally managed to track down my elusive Rowland Ward Gnu trophy bull. It turned out to be a real challenge.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself. First I want to tell you about the importance of a checklist. I never prepare for a hunt without my unfailing checklist. It happens so often that one gets caught up in the excitement and forgets to pack the most obvious item. Trust me - once you’ve arrived at the hunting destination, there are no shops to shop at if you forgot something. You’ll just have to stay without it or beg and borrow from your fellow hunters. I’ve been on hunts where some of the hunters forgot their ammunition – unbelievable, but it happens.

After a four hour drive I arrived at the game farm. The farmer took me through to an old farmhouse several kilometres away from the main farmhouse where the hunters normally stay. The old farmhouse was equipped with all the bare necessities - even running water. Though, the hot water was still based on the old donkey system – a boiler with a large fire underneath.

There is something to be said about the hospitality of farmers. The farmer welcomed me with a blazing fire and an abundance of food. We spent the evening sharing hunting tales under an African sky with millions of stars twinkling down on us. They appeared to be so close that I had to resist the temptation to stretch out my hand to touch them. It was one of those nights you wish would never end. Still, I needed an early start the following day and had to get a good night’s rest.

The next morning I was up just before sunrise, got dressed in my hunting gear and enjoyed a cup of strong coffee with rusks. Its moments like this when you realize the importance of getting out of the rat race to rejuvenate and to bask in nature’s splendour.

The landscape laid before me untouched with scattered mountains on the parameter. In the early morning light the mountains were shrouded in mysterious dark blue shades. The rich aroma of coffee blended with the scent of the bush was an added bonus to round off the pampering of my senses. I was ready for the day’s hunt.

I went out with a Landrover and first drove around the dirt roads looking for signs that the herd of Gnu were in that area. Eventually I found a trail of Gnu tracks across one of the dirt roads. Surveying the area I also found fresh droppings - confirmation that I found a fresh trail where the Gnu must have passed through the previous evening.

To determine if a trail is fresh you look at the sides of the print. The footprint must be moist with sharp edges. Round edges means it is a few days old. You can also look at broken twigs of bush in the same vicinity. When the broken twigs are still moist and green you know you are following a fresh trail.

I followed the trail with the Landrover at a snail’s pace. Eventually the trail went off the dirt road and I parked the Landrover behind a bush to follow the trail on foot. After a couple of hours I finally caught up with the herd.

From where I stood on top of the hill I looked down on a herd of about 40 Gnu in the valley. I was at least a mile away from them. Through my binoculars I saw the majority of the herd were female with young ones frolicking about – true to their nickname of being clowns of the veldt. As luck would have it there were also a few good bulls with large horns.

Cautiously I made my way down the hill to get closer. I had to be so careful not to alert the herd. The rocky terrain and forty pairs of eyes constantly on the look out for danger made this very difficult. And don’t forget the forty pairs of ears!

The bush was not too dense and for the bigger part of the way I had to zigzag from bush to bush, making sure that the gentle breeze was in my favour. The moment the herd catch my scent they’ll rush off and I’ll be forced to track them down all over again.

Walking in a low crouch position across the rocky land was very tricky. My vigilance was put to the test at the same level which assured the Gnu of surviving another day. Every step I took had to be carefully thought through. That guaranteed my undetectable progress towards the herd. One careless move and I’ll be eating the herd’s dust.

In time I found myself behind a sizable rock 250 meters from the herd. By now I was exhausted and the sun was baking with a vengeance. I searched for a possible Rowland Ward trophy and finally I was satisfied I found the best Gnu bull in the herd. Then the waiting game started for the opportunity to take a clear shot.

The herd never stood still. They moved about nervously and used the bush to obscure their visibility. The bull I had my sights on challenged my patience. He wasn’t going to make it easy for me.

After a few minutes the marked bull moved away from the herd. I thought this was my moment, but the herd had other ideas. For no apparent reason they took off in a split second and that was the last I saw of them for the rest of the day.

It was already late. I went back to the farm with a heavy heart. My disappointment didn't last long; soon I became excited by the prospect of the next day's challenge. I was glad the Gnu didn't make it too easy for me. That night around the camp fire, the farmer and I discussed the best possible direction for me to take the next day.

Another day; another mesmerising sunrise. In the face of such natural beauty I was determined to succeed. The close encounter the previous day ignited a burning desire I never experienced before.

It didn’t take long before I came across a trail indicating I was moving in the right direction. This time I caught up with the herd sooner than expected. From a tree I watched them go down the hill with such grace. Their deep chests and humped shoulders leaned heavily forward with their long flowing tails stretched out.

Finally they sort of settled in the valley. Once again I found myself doing the crouching zigzag-manoeuvre down the hill. As an added extra I had to crawl at times. Only afterwards I realized how raw my elbows were, but at the time I didn’t feel a thing. The branches scratched my face and every so often I had to stop to remove a few thorns from my clothes. A thorn bush never shows mercy when rubbed against.

At about 300 meters away from the herd I found a good spot from where I safely watched the herd without them spotting me. I looked through my sights searching for a bull with nice size horns. Thoughts of the previous day made me anxious. I didn’t want to walk away empty handed again.

Then I saw my target. I aimed and squeezed the trigger within seconds. A deafening rumble invaded the silence and chased the birds from the bush. The bull jolted and to my amazement, instead of collapsing, it took off with the entire herd.

I followed the herd through my binoculars and saw they veered to the right, but the bull went straight. That simplified my task to track it down. It’s one of nature’s unwritten laws for a wounded animal to leave the herd.

Still, I had to make sure it was wounded. At first I followed the bull on foot to look for a blood trail. When I found the first signs of blood I knew my shot was too high. In the heat of the moment even an experienced hunter can forget about the basic facts to secure a deadly shot.

The Gnu has a deceiving hump above the shoulders. One must aim a third of the way upwards from the height of the belly. When you hit the Gnu in the top third you’ll hit muscle and miss the vital organs.

Another fact to remember is that when you shoot downhill the bullet actually hits higher. In my case, at a distance of 300 meters the bullet hits approximately 20cm higher.

I realised there was no way I would be able to keep up with it. I went back to the Landrover and went ahead. My mind was in turmoil. I could kick myself for making such a silly mistake. I was too eager. I just hoped that the bull would stay on course, then I would be able to cut it off.

Arriving at the possible cut-off point I parked the Landrover out of sight. I took a few deep breaths realizing I only had this one chance to rectify my mistake. I looked around and found an advantage point where I was well camouflaged. I could see far and wide. I waited anxiously.

Finally, I saw the bull walking towards me. I kneeled behind a tree. The tired bull still came my way and the best possible shot was in the middle of the chest seeing the bull was facing me.

I could have taken a headshot, but it would have ruined the trophy. I waited until the bull was close enough for a shot to bring it down. There wasn’t room for one single mistake. At about 100 meters I fired, hitting the bull in the middle of the chest. Relief flooded my veins as I watched the magnificent Gnu bull stop in its tracks. Then it collapsed forward in a cloud of dust.

I too collapsed and lit up a smoke. Satisfaction at last! I rested a minute or two before I strolled over to the Gnu. With bated breath I measured the horns – 31 inches across! What an incredible feeling to know I rose above the challenge and received the prize I dreamed about - my Rowland Ward Gnu trophy bull.