Greater Kudu

Female

The Greater Kudu (Tragelaphus strepsiceros) is a woodland antelope found throughout eastern and southern Africa. Despite occupying such widespread territory, they are sparsely populated in most areas, due to a declining habitat, deforestation and hunting.[2]
Physical characteristics


Anterior view of a male

They have a narrow body with long legs, and their coats can range from brown/bluish-grey to reddish-brown. They possess between 4–12 vertical white stripes along their torso. The head tends to be darker in colour than the rest of the body, and exhibits a small white chevron which runs between the eyes.[2]
Male Greater Kudus tend to be much larger than the females, and vocalise much more, utilising low grunts, clucks, humming, and gasping.[citation needed] The males also have large manes running along their throats, and large horns with two and a half twists, which, were they to be straightened, would reach a length of 1 metre on average. However, the male horns do not begin to grow until the male is between the age of 6–12 months, twisting once at around 2 years of age, and not reaching the full two and a half twist until they are 6 years old.[2]
Males weigh 190-270 kg while females weigh 120-210 kg. Females do not have horns while the bulls have horns that average 120 cm in length with the record being 187.64 cm.[2]
Subspecies
Formerly four subspecies have been described, but recently only one to three subspecies have been accepted based on colour, number of stripes and horn length[3]:

• T. s. strepsiceros, southern parts of the range from southern Kenya to Namibia, Botswana and South Africa
• T. s. chora, northeastern Africa from northern Kenya through Ethiopia to eastern Sudan, western Somalia and Eritrea
• T. s. cottoni, Chad and western Sudan

This classification was supported by the genetic difference of one specimen of northern Kenya (T. s. chora) in comparison with several samples from the southern part of the range between Tanzania and Zimbabwe (T. s. strepsiceros). No specimen of the northwestern population, which may represent a third subspecies (T. s. cottoni) was tested within this study[3].
Lifestyle
The range of the Greater Kudu extends from the east in Ethiopia, Tanzania, Eritrea and Kenya into the south where they are found in Zambia, Angola, Namibia, Botswana, Zimbabwe and South Africa. They have also been introduced in small numbers into New Mexico. Their habitat includes thick bushveld, rocky hillsides, dry riverbeds and anywhere with a constant supply of water.[citation needed] They will occasionally venture onto plains only if there is a large abundance of bushes, but normally avoid such open areas to avoid becoming an easy target for their predators. Their diet consists of leaves, grass, shoots and occasionally tubers, roots and fruit (they are especially fond of oranges and tangerines).[2]
During the day, Greater Kudus normally cease to be active and instead seek cover under woodland, especially during hot days. They feed and drink in the early morning and late afternoon, acquiring water from waterholes or roots and bulbs which have a high water content. Although they tend to stay in one area, the Greater Kudu may search over a large distance for water in times of drought, in southern Namibia where water is relatively scarce they have been known to travel extremely long distances in very short periods of time.[2]
Predators
Predators of the greater kudu generally consist of lions, leopards and hunting dogs. Although cheetahs also prey on greater kudus, they are unable to bring down a mature male, so usually go for the more vulnerable females and offspring. When a herd is threatened by predators, an adult (usually female) will issue a bark to alert the rest of the herd. Despite being very nimble over rocky hillsides and mountains, the greater kudu is not fast enough (and nor does it have enough stamina) to escape its main predators over open terrain, so instead relies on leaping woodland and cover which their predators have a hard time getting round, kudus have also been known to disappear into cover without being noticed to avoid chase.[2]
Social system
Female greater kudus live in small herds of six to twenty individuals along with their calves, though males tend to be mainly solitary, they sometimes form bachelor herds that consist of 4 to 8 young males (sometimes with an older bull as well). Rarely will a herd reach a size of forty individuals, partly because of the selective nature of their diet which would make foraging for food difficult in large groups.[2] A herd's area can encompass 800 to 1,500 acres (6.1 km2), and spend an average of 54% of the day foraging for food.[citation needed].
Fully mature males will often fight other males by interlocking their horns with the other until one of them admits defeat and gives in. In rare circumstances this can sometimes result in both males being unable to free themselves from the other's horns, usually resulting in the death of both animals. Females may sometimes ward off males by biting them, due to their lack of horns.[2]
Reproduction


Greater Kudu cow
Greater kudus reach sexual maturity between 1–3 years of age. The mating season occurs at the end of the rainy season, which can fluctuate slightly according to the region and climate. Before mating, there is a courtship ritual which consists of the male standing in front of the female and often engaging in a neck wrestle. The male then trails the female while issuing a low pitched call until the female allows him to copulate with her. Gestation takes around 240 days (or eight months).[2] Calving generally starts between February and March, when the grass tends to be at its highest.[citation needed]
Offspring and maternal care
Greater kudus tend to bear one calf, although occasionally there may be two. To begin with, the calf will wait for the mother to feed it, but later it will become more demanding in its search for milk, and after a few months even aggressive.[2] For the first two weeks of a calf's life they hide where predators cannot find them. For four to five weeks after that they roam with the herd only during day. Males will become self-sufficient at 6 months old. Females become self-sufficient at around 1 to 2 years old.[citation needed] Greater kudus may live up to 20 years of age when kept in captivity.[2]
Human interaction
Greater kudus have both benefited and suffered from interaction with humans; they are a target for hunters, possibly due to their habit of stopping to look behind them after bolting for cover, making them an easy target. Humans have also destroyed woodland cover which they use for their habitat. However, wells and irrigation set up by humans has also allowed the greater kudus to occupy territory which would have been too devoid of water for them previously.[2]
The horns of greater kudus are commonly used to makes Shofars, a Jewish ritual horn blown at Rosh Hashanah.

Related Article:
Gray Ghosts
The greater kudu is a showstopper. Tipped in ivory, polished like good walnut and formed into that spectacular double spiral, his horns are unmatched. Nearly spectacular is his appearance, a big antelope with a striking gray body offset by white side-stripes, nose chevron, dorsal crest and flowing salt-and-pepper mane. He is probably the most recognized of the myriad of African antelope and has inspired some of the very best African writing.

The greater kudu is probably the most recognizable of all African antelope, and his appearance is so striking he deserves his place at the top of most hunters' dream lists. Neither of these bulls is spectacular, but any mature kudu is a great trophy.

The greater kudu's marvellous appearance, coupled with great stories about hunting him, make him number one on the "most wanted" list of first-time African hunters--and many returning veterans. He deserves that placement, but I don't think he deserves his reputation as being one of Africa's most difficult prizes, especially not in today's Africa.
Most classic African literature is set in East Africa, where greater kudu have been scarce since the great rinderpest of a century ago. In other words, the old-timers who hunted greater kudu in East Africa hunted them in the wrong place. Shy and cover-loving, kudu are rarely easy, but in southern Africa, where most modern safaris take place, the kudu is usually plentiful and often the most common large antelope. Most hunters in Namibia and South Africa will take their kudu, even on seven-day safaris. I cannot predict what kind of kudu they might take, except that it will be a mature bull and thus a magnificent trophy.
Over the course of thirty years I have hunted kudu in ten different countries, sometimes failing and sometimes succeeding, but I have never taken a greater kudu reaching the magical sixty-inch mark, measured around the spiral. I recommend you hunt kudu without any number fixed in your mind, without a tape measure in your pocket and with the mindset that you will do the best you can and enjoy your kudu for what he is.
Three Ways To Hunt Kudu
Three of my kudu hunts were conducted by altogether different means and methods. They were somewhat dictated by terrain, and it seemed to me that they essentially defined the ways in which greater kudu may practically be hunted. They were: tracking, glassing (spot and stalk) and hunting on horseback.
Nice premise, except I believe in accuracy, and after a bit of pondering it occurred to me that there are really five ways to hunt kudu. I'm still going to keep the premise, because I don't much like the other two methods (which is probably why they initially eluded me). They are, essentially, sitting at a waterhole and road hunting. Let's quickly deal with them.

A waterhole at midday is a great place to view African game, especially greater kudu--but other than special circumstances such as archery tackle or physical limitations, actually hunting over a waterhole is generally frowned upon and often illegal.
All predators, certainly including humans, know that prey species are most vulnerable at the waterhole. They will come to water with extreme caution, but in the actual act of drinking they are extremely vulnerable. This is how natural predators such as lions and San Bushmen prefer to do their grocery shopping. We modern hunters are different; we have established self-limiting rules that we loosely define as hunting ethics. In many African jurisdictions taking game in proximity to open water is absolutely illegal. In other areas it is perfectly legal but generally frowned upon.
I don't have an issue with any legal hunting technique. Where legal, sitting at a waterhole is a marvellous way to take a warthog, one of very few opportunities to see multiple pigs and accurately judge their tusks. For bowhunters, it's the best way to ensure a close, steady shot. However, in a place as exciting as Africa, I cannot imagine a more boring safari than watching the days slide by from a blind overlooking a waterhole. For the average rifle hunter, this is not the most satisfying way to take a kudu.


I suppose this applies equally to road hunting. Except, instead of my negative appellation, let's instead call it chance encounter. Finding a mature greater kudu usually takes a lot of looking in good habitat. Much of this looking will be done by rolling tires--especially in relatively flat thornbush, where vantage points for glassing are limited. The intent of this looking is to locate a suitable bull, make a stalk and take a good shot. Sometimes there's an inadvertent shortcut: You come around a bend, and there stands the kudu you've dreamed of, so you shoot him.
Even where it is legal, I am not in favour of shooting from vehicles. The practice makes game spooky and cheapens a great trophy. On the other hand, there's a practical reality involved. Provided no laws are broken, passing a good, steady, standing shot at an especially fine kudu bull is sort of like receiving a smile from Mother Nature and kicking sand in her face in return. It's just that this is not the way you want it to happen. So let's look at three ways to take a kudu.
Classic Spot And Stalk
The real idea behind cruising good kudu country is to find him and then have the pleasure of outwitting him. The likelihood of it actually working that way depends somewhat on the cover combined with the terrain. Some of the thickest bush I've ever hunted kudu in is not country where you find the southern greater kudu, but rather the dense coastal thorn near Port Elizabeth, where the kudu are the slightly smaller, darker and more luxuriously maned Eastern Cape greater kudu. This is the country of the Addo Elephant Sanctuary, now a national park but well into the 20th century the last bastion of Africa's southernmost elephant and rhino, both species protected by the near-impenetrable Addo thornbush.


The actual thorn is so thick you cannot walk through it. It is rolling country, with some patches slightly more open. You can glass, and you hunt with the understanding that the edges offer the best browse. It's not easy hunting, but the genetics are spectacular and you won't believe the kudu you'll see in the Addo park.
I was hunting with my friend Russell Lovemore. Russell's family carved a home into the Addo bush in the 1820s, and several of his concessions adjoin what is now the park itself. The thick bush suggests a chance encounter, but the relief actually allows serious glassing, serious enough that we used a spotting scope as well as good binoculars. We glassed a lot of young bulls and a few mature bulls, but it was a chance encounter when we saw the bull we wanted, with some cows on a scrubby hillside 200 yards above us. Okay, truth: If I could have jumped out and shot him I would have, but there was no time. We let the cows lead him over the hill and across the valley, where they seemed to settle down in thick bush at the base of the next ridge. Then, we started our stalk.

The author and Anthony Baber with a beautiful kudu bull taken by horseback hunting. This is a very pretty bull, with perfect shape and conformation, probably about eleven years old.

At 600 yards we started to crawl, letting one bush and then another offer a bit of cover while the kudu fed in and out of view. We made 400 yards easily, but I reckoned that was a bit too far for the .375 I was carrying. So we crawled some more, using late-afternoon shadow and a slight rise in the valley floor. We made that rise, and the range was about 300 yards, depending on where he popped out--if he was still there.

He must have been, because his cows were still there, and he apparently hadn't gotten the news that the rut was on the wane. He stepped out, and I got the shot. I hit him a bit back, but the big .375 Ruger made a difference and he didn't go far. He is my biggest Eastern Cape kudu--and one of the best stalks I've had on any kudu.

(LEFT) The author used a Ruger Number One in .375 Ruger, definitely more gun than is really needed for greater kudu, but always effective. (RIGHT) This is the track of Mike Fifer's bull, likely a large-bodied bull, but we knew he was worth following because we'd actually seen him.

Tracking
Following spoor is perhaps the most classic African hunt, and seeing African trackers at work is pure magic. Realistically, however, there's a vast difference between following the tracks of buffalo or elephant and following the tracks of a kudu bull. Yes, by size alone any African tracker or PH can look at a kudu track and tell if it's a big-bodied bull.
Size-wise, however, the greater kudu is right on the edge of even the best African tracker's ability to actually hold to the spoor. In sandy soil, not so bad, but in rocky ground, well, almost impossible. Practically speaking, greater kudu are generally not hunted by tracking. This is because, even on good ground, the odds of any given bull track belonging to the kudu you want are too long. It takes about ten years for a kudu bull to reach full maturity, so in any herd there are a lot of almost mature bulls. Also, while some areas clearly have better genetics than others, very few mature bulls exceed fifty inches around the spiral (let alone the mid-fifties into the sixties).

So to some extent a really big kudu bull is like a needle in a haystack, and unless you're really lucky it's a numbers game. You have to look at quite a few, and you can't do this by blindly following tracks. So kudu are usually tracked when a good bull is spotted but slips away before a shot is possible. This means that, much of the time, the kudu already knows you're after him. Take all the factors together and tracking kudu isn't very successful, but when it all comes together it's spectacular.
I was on a hunt with Ruger's CEO, Mike Fifer. We were in central Namibia in a fairly flat area with thick thornbush, a tough combination made worse by our timing, which was decidedly post-rut. We were seeing few kudu and even fewer bulls. Just as we approached a windmill we caught a quick glimpse of an apparently mature bull dashing off into the thorn. If we were seeing lots of kudu I doubt we'd have bothered, but we weren't, so tracker Moses took to the spoor.
The bull ran a short distance, then started to walk. The soil was sandy, so Moses' most significant problem was to hold this one bull kudu track among the myriad tracks coming and going to the water. Fortunately, he didn't have to keep the spoor for very long; after a few hundred yards the PH, Corné, caught the flash of horn in thick stuff just ahead, and now it was stalking, not tracking.
The wind was good, but the cover was absurdly thick. We spent nearly an hour within fifty yards of that kudu bull, Corné and Mike maneuvering this way and that, trying to find an opening. Finally, the kudu made a mistake and stepped into a narrow window at thirty yards. Corné barked at him and he stopped. Mike's .338 RCM went off. It was a very old kudu with wide turns but worn tops. We'd hoped for bigger--but what a hunt.


 Greater Kudu, taken at close range after a fine tracking job.