After looking at a photo of my eland, my friend emailed me that he thought his trophy eland had bigger horns than mine. Here’s my response.
"What do you mean, my eland looks bigger in the head and neck, but not the horns???!!! I was aiming for the biggest butt!!!" I retorted and then continued. "My eland hunt, like yours, was also the most exciting trophy of my 21 day safari to Tanzania. You’ll be sorry you mentioned this. Get ready I can’t resist telling you my Great Eland Chase Story!"
We hadn’t seen any eland at all until the 16th day of our safari. Although, it had been one the top three trophies I had booked this hunt to obtain, I had really given up hopes that I would even see an eland. But on the first day, at our last of three camps, during the first hour, that changed.
As soon as our air charter landed on the only level and clear stretch of short grass in the vicinity of our camp, we transferred our bags and gear to the waiting Land Rover. We drove about 3 miles to our outfitter’s seasonal, tent camp named Ibanda. The camp and area were fantastically beautiful, located on the banks of the river that separates Tanzania, Uganda and Rwanda. We were overwhelmed by the lush, green vegetation compared to the dry, bare plains at our previous camp in Masaiiland. We immediately unloaded our bags and gear and drove out to hunt. So far on this safari I had already taken several wonderful trophies, including leopard, but I still had tags for lion, roan, bushbuck, reedbuck, oribi, a trophy cape buffalo and, of course, eland to fill.
The hunt which followed was not my preferred, spot and stalk. However considering I had broken my leg on the first day of a 21-day safari, I had no ethical problem with the unconventional method we were forced employ. That is, shooting from the truck. I hope I never have to use this method again, but the older and more infirm I grow, I won’t stop hunting if the alternatives still provide a reasonable possibility for balancing ethics and marksmanship. For anyone who feels differently, I appreciate their position, but for 21 days I really ascertained the effort and determination a truly "handicapped" hunter goes through to continue pursuing the sport.
So, not 500 yards from camp, we immediately spotted a herd of about 100 eland (yes, 100-hundred—when it rains it pours). Of course, because a stalk was out of the question with my broken leg, we just made a beeline in their direction at about 100 mph (was probably 25 mph, but rockin’ & rollin’ we were) darting through acacia trees, around warthog holes, avoiding termite mounds and engulfed in 6 foot tall stalks of shrubs and grasses. We swerved, bounced and flew. The particular Land Rover truck we were in did not have doors on the cab, nor a windshield. I was in the shotgun seat, my PH, Orlando, was driving; Bob (my husband) and Maria (our friend/videographer), and the government game scout were in the high seat. The three trackers were in the bed of the old and very narrow, top heavy Land Rover.
The herd of eland was in a frenzied stampede through the trees and brush as soon as they were aware of our presence. We tried to pick out the biggest bull (by glimpses of the fleeting butts). When the PH thought I could get a shot, he would slam on the brakes and turn off the engine. As you well know, luck has it during most hunts that the target disappears behind a tree or into the grass at the crucial moment. So then the PH started the engine, the wild chase would continue. The entire time the truck was bouncing so hard I struggled to keep my rifle, which I was holding in one hand, from slamming up and down onto the dash board and to keep my broken leg from slamming up and down on the floorboard, all the while I hung precariously to the missing door frame with the other hand, hoping to prevent myself from being flung out of the truck. Without a windshield, tiny seeds were blowing directly into my eyes, so I blinked and winced to see. Periodically I even shut my eyes in hopes that when the truck stopped for my shot, I would still be able to see clearly enough to shoot. By this time the entire cab of the truck was completely engulfed in dust and debris.
After five minutes of maintaining a one handed, white-knuckled death grip on the truck, I was about to signal Orlando to give up the chase, when I was able to connect with biggest butt in the herd at about 200 yds. We heard that "wonderful" thud of a solid shot. Now I knew we were committed to this wild chase for as long as it would take.
Maria got part of this on video. Bob said he couldn’t believe she did, because he was hanging on for dear life with both hands and everything in the bed of the truck, trackers included, was being flung around. He couldn’t believe Maria was only using one hand to hang on and the other was on the video. Of course the video is mostly just bouncing, but it certainly conveys our experience well.
After my first shot, the chase became more difficult, because now we weren’t just looking for a big butt amongst the stampede, but a "bloody" big butt. Somehow, I was able to keep my target pegged in the herd. The great eland chase continued. It took another ten minutes and a couple of miles of bouncing and struggling before I could get another shot off to finish this endurance race.
When we drove up to the eland and got out of the truck we were all shaking. During the photo session with my trophy, the PH’s commentary went as such, "We were driving along "poli poli" (That’s Swahili for slowly, slowly)… I interrupted him and said, "Poli poli?" He said, "Yes, because we couldn’t go any faster"!
The truck was totally full of seed pods and grass. It took the guys longer to clean out the vehicle than to cape out the eland. I considered that hunt/chase the most frightening event I have experienced on safari. Not from the animals, but from the fear of being thrown out of the truck during the chase. Of course, now it seems so exciting to recount. So don’t tell me my eland’s horns are small. He had the biggest butt in the herd!!!
PS. I never saw another eland. I’m sure after our wild chase, the rest of the herd ran out of Tanzania into Uganda or Rwanda forever.
I also learned that eland is the best meat in Africa!!!
