Oryx Oryx Oryx!!!

My Dad told me stories of how tough Oryx are to kill, and how delicious they are to eat. I was lucky enough to learn both of those lessons firsthand. Oryx or Gemsbok as they are also called, have striking black and white faces, heavy front shoulders, thick neck, a long hairy tail, and long straight black horns. Ken took the first Oryx of our trip. He shot his bull on a steep hillside in thick brush. The bull spotted us and started to run, he stopped for a second thinking he was hidden in the brush. The moment of truth arrived as we all heard the click of a firing pin hitting an empty chamber, in this instance that click seemed louder than the expected gunshot would have been. It was quickly followed by a mumbled "s**t" and a furious racking of the bolt on Kens rifle and a fantastic high shoulder/spine shot that dropped the bull in his tracks. We got a flat tire trying to get the truck closer to the bull so we wouldn't have to drag the beast so far.

A couple days later we found ourselves glassing from the top of a rocky hill. I was blown away by the views of the Kalahari stretching out in front of us. Big open plains with islands of brush covered mountains in between.


We saw a herd of springbok down in the open plains, and George and Albert spotted a lone Oryx on the next mountain over. It saw us and went over the top of the hill and out of sight before we had much time to size it up. We got in the Land Cruiser and drove down off our mountain, and around to the back side of the mountain where we had seen the oryx. I spotted it standing perfectly still in the shade of an acacia tree at 210 yards. I held right on and let one fly. It was a good hit, but the oryx turned and ran uphill like it hadn't been touched. I got nervous and let a couple more bullets loose at the running oryx. It again crested the mountain, and we hurried and drove back around to the other side. I went into the thick brush with George and Alfred and watched this tough old beast still sitting up finally take its last few breaths and expire. The first shot had penetrated the front shoulder and gone through lung, liver, and exited on the opposite side of the animal, the second running shot hit right at the base of the tail, a Texas heart shot. Not my favorite shot ever, but about all I had at game that was running away.

What I thought was an old lone bull, turned out to be an old lone cow. Still she had good horns, and was a pretty trophy, but I was hoping to take a bull. As fate would have it, I ended up being part of taking 2 more oryx bulls on this trip. I took one for our guide when he mistook it for a wounded bull and asked me to shoot. When we discovered that it wasn't the wounded one, he apologized and told me he wouldn't count it against me as he had asked me to shoot. The sunset that night was unreal.

The next day we found the wounded bull we had been looking for, and I finished him as well. He had been hit low in the front left leg, but was still up and moving around. A couple more shots from the .338 and he was finished. 3 for 1 oryx for me this trip, not too bad a deal.

Beautiful animals, tough and delicious. I especially enjoyed the oryx Bushman Fondue. Chunks of oryx meat and bread dough deep fried in a cast iron pot heated over an acacia wood fire.