Giraffe Hunting: One Hunter's Thoughts on Game Management, Trophy Hunting, and the Opinions of Others

by Shane Jahn

After a couple days hunting the vast Manketti Reserve with Quagga Safaris Professional Hunters (PHs) Eon Kok and Tyron Fletcher it became quite apparent that the giraffe population thrives on the property. We had seen the long-necked, beautiful animals dispersed across the countryside and photographed them, marveled at their unique camouflage patterns, and watched in wonder as they struck off in their slow-motion lope. Several weeks before my family and I made the long trek to South Africa for a safari, a colleague brought up giraffe and zebra hunting out of the blue. His opinion was that both species should not be hunted. Period. I do not know if he hunts, but I’ve heard similar statements from people I know are hunters. I think in the zebra’s case he is so “horse-like” that folks cannot see putting a bullet through Mr. Ed. I’ve not seriously hunted zebra yet, but I don’t share the thoughts of those who won’t. To each their own.

As for the giraffes, well, I think it’s because they are one animal everyone sees at zoos, and they are so big and docile looking that some folks cannot comprehend why anyone would hunt them. Same goes for elephant. And we all remember the Cecil thing several years ago involving a lion. It is important to remember that the wild bush is very different from the man-made zoo. In the wild the animals compete for food. After all, they all must eat. Nature’s ways of herd management are far crueler than a hunter’s bullet or arrow.

Giraffes in typical Limpopo bush. Want a challenge? Stalk them on foot!

In truth, I had never contemplated hunting a giraffe. The thought only crept into my mind after discussing Manketti’s giraffe population with the PHs and they explained that giraffes, like any other game animal, must be managed there through hunting. The bulls fight for breeding rights, as do many other male species in nature. They have been known to kill one another in battle as they beat the hell out of each other with their massive heads and long, muscular necks. When this happens, colossal amounts of meat are lost to the jackals and hyenas. So, what’s the alternative? Hunting, of course. Why did it not occur to me, I cannot say. I’ve helped manage deer herds for years, killing bucks and does for conservation and management purposes. I know of hunters who have shot aoudad ewes in attempts to manage herd sizes and improve range conditions. Why would a giraffe be any different? After all, mother nature can only sustain so many and overpopulation often ends in starvation, disease and habitat destruction.

So, a logical choice for giraffe management is hunting. In many cases this means the big, old bulls are sought out, removing them from the herds and making way for younger bulls to fill their positions. Other times either sex may be hunted out of necessity to reduce numbers. Again, the habitat can only sustain so many animal units. As I mulled the situation over, I decided that if I could get within handgun range of an old bull, I would take him with my iron-sighted Freedom Arms 454 Casull.

Freedom Arms 454 Casull with iron sights

On the fourth morning of our ten-day safari, it was only Eon, Ty and me who would be going out. My wife and daughters had elected to sleep in and spend a leisurely morning at the lodge and poolside. We struck out in the crisp, cool dawn after a cup of hot coffee and some toast lathered in butter and Bovril, a salty beef extract syrup that is surprisingly good. The morning was clear and fresh with nary a cloud in the sky and hardly any wind at all. We hadn’t traveled very far when we noticed a giraffe cow and calf watching us drive by. Then, we saw him, a bull towering over the thick brush to our south. “That is a BIG bull!” said Eon. Tyron the young, eager PH added in his crisp South African accent, “Let’z go hunt’eem with yor reevolver!” Sounded good to me, so we unloaded and began a stalk to the east as the sun slowly started breaking over the horizon. Stalking game in the brush to get within handgun range is one thing. Stalking a giraffe is an entirely different challenge. We moved in unison as quietly as we could, slipping through thorny limbs and stepping over dried sticks on the soft red sand, careful not to smash parched leaves previous winds had corralled into shallow depressions and around the edges of grass clumps; all the while minding the wind direction and keeping the sun to our backs. For a time, we could see them, but the brush was too thick to approach, so we backed up and swung further east. Eon had warned me that oftentimes giraffes would allow hunters just one opportunity to get close to them, after that they were careful to keep a buffer of distance between themselves and pursuing hunters.

We caught glimpses of the cow and calf as we carefully navigated head-high brush and it was when we intersected a small, two-track road through the dense thicket that there ahead at 70 yards stood the bull, broadside in the thin strip of clearing. Eon set up the sticks as I unholstered my revolver and rested my shooting hand in the V, focused the orange painted bead of the front sight on the bull’s shoulder and gently pressed the trigger. The big 454 bucked in recoil and I cocked the hammer as I brought it back down but had no second shot as the bull bolted to our right and into the brush. We quickly moved up to where the bull had been standing at the shot and started following his tracks. I caught a glimpse of him ahead, but he appeared very low to me, as if he was going down. Sure enough, as we took a few more steps we saw him lying flat on the ground. The old bull hadn’t traveled 25 yards.

The writer's bull giraffe taken fair and square with a handgun. What a trophy!

The PHs were pumped! Both have hunted for years. Neither had ever seen a shoulder-shot bull giraffe go down so quickly. We later found that Buffalo Bore Ammunition’s 360-grain Hard Cast bullet had penetrated through the bull and was lodged under the inch-thick hide of the offside. Everyone who has seen a giraffe, especially in real life, knows they are big. But it really sinks in when you walk up to one on the ground just how enormous and beautiful these animals really are. The patch-work pattern of their hide is something to be marveled. The head of the old bull is huge, and the forehead is curved outward from a thick bone that, I’m told, can deflect some bullets. Their body is solid with heavy hide and muscle. They are beautiful and wondrous animals. Now some will ask how in hell I can say these flattering things about something I hunted, shot, and killed. Well, it’s simple. Hunters in fact do love the animals they hunt and occasionally kill. We understand that wildlife must be managed and, in many cases, must have monetary value. Hunters gladly accept that we are the ones who must pay to hunt them for the populations to thrive. We take a few to ensure the health and propagation of the many so that we can continue not only to hunt them, but see them, watch them, and enjoy their beauty.

Giraffes are awesome animals. Management through hunting ensures a healthy existence in many places.

It became apparent before I ever wrote this piece that even some in the hunting industry tap dance around what they view as “controversial” topics such as giraffe hunting. One editor passed on my article proclaiming my pitch of explaining giraffe management and hunting a bull with a handgun sounded like “a stunt.” I always thought getting as close as possible to an animal on a spot and stalk hunt was real hunting in its truest form. As the old saying goes, we must all hang together, or we shall all hang separately. Hunting is conservation. Live it. Proclaim it. Explain it when possible. Some will listen when we rationalize how placing value on animals creates a worth that coincides with conservation and trophy hunting.

This goes for all aspects of hunting. If it’s legal, moral and ethical we should support it. A particular type of hunting might not be for us; be it bowhunting, handgun hunting, hunting with a spear, long-range hunting, whatever. If people can do it with confidence and precision to ensure humane kills it should be their right. We might not think it is “hunting” by our personal definition but that does not give us the green light to post or broadcast negative comments. I caution all of us to think before we speak or type, especially when it comes to social media. We don’t have to like it, but we should not feel compelled to voice negativity.

Can’t you see the smiles on the faces of anti-hunters when the hunting population is tearing one another apart over differences of opinions? Yes, we have that right to voice our opinions under the First Amendment to the United States Constitution, but that doesn’t necessarily mean we should always exercise it. Hunters need to support hunters and stand together, united.

A friend of mine grew up poor in Africa. As a young man he hunted for meat for the pot to have food for his family, pure and simple. He did not fully understand what the term “trophy hunting” meant. When I explained the older, bigger heads are sought out by many hunters, concepts of management and job creation from hunting, as well as the dispersal of meat to the community, it changed his entire outlook on trophy hunting. What he had viewed in a negative light, even though he is himself a hunter, now made perfect sense to him. Many view the term “trophy” as merely the horned or antlered head, envisioning a headless corpse left to rot in the field. I explained we take those things because in many cases, that is all we can have shipped home. But the excellent meat goes where it’s needed, and that is a wonderful thing.

Political correctness and tiptoeing around what some view as controversial hunting topics is pure B.S. in my opinion. I am a trophy hunter in the sense that when I hunt a mature or old animal, no matter what its horn or antler size may be, I am taking what I call a true

A beautiful bull in Kruger National Park

trophy. An animal that has survived years of being hunted by other hunters, predators, survived drought, freezing cold, disease and fights with its own species over breeding rights. An animal that has lived its life, reached or even better, surpassed its breeding status. I hunt because it is who I am. I am a hunter. In most cases I eat the meat of the animals I hunt. In others it goes to someone who will. My trophies are horns, hides, skulls, photographs and my memories. I do not apologize for these things.

Hunting is conservation and game management through hunting creates jobs, feeds families and keeps the animal populations in check from over-population, over-grazing, disease and widespread poaching around the world. In many cases where commercial hunting is not allowed poachers decimate the animals for meat. Where hunters pay to hunt and provide that meat to the masses the animals ultimately win. It’s also important to note that hunters pay for anti-poaching programs in many places as well.

Unashamedly, I have hunted and killed a giraffe. The hide is tanned to proudly display on the floor of our home. His huge, prehistoric-looking skull will rest on my fireplace mantle and the leg bones will be used for knife handles and pistol grips for my friends and myself. In taking the big bull, I single-handedly provided the safari company with an estimated 1,400 pounds of good meat. The meat of the animals hunted on safari is cooked in camp and distributed to schools, families, and orphanages. If you’ve never experienced the smiles on the faces of a group of schoolchildren as you deliver fresh, wild meat to their sparse dormitories, well, you’re truly missing out on one of life’s greatest pleasures. Hunters are the ones who bring this joy to the community. We are a fortunate lot. There is nothing here to apologize for.