The Nilgai Story
"Huh? What’s a nilgai?!" Everyone we talked to about our trip asked us what we were hunting for in Texas. Mention "nilgai" to someone, and chances are you’ll get the same response we did.
Nilgai were originally imported into Texas from India as zoo animals in the 1920s. The King Ranch pioneered their release as free-ranging animals between 1930 and 1941. They have since adapted well on several large ranches in southern Texas. Currently, there are said to be more nilgai living in a semi-wild state in Texas than in their native India with estimated populations of around 15,000 and 10,000 respectively. These mystical-looking antelope get their name from the Hindustani word nil, meaning blue, and the Persian word gaw, meaning cow, accurately named for their bluish color and great tasting, tender meat. Some ranchers give orders to shoot them on sight because they compete with their cattle for grazing, other places allow hunting. They are not considered game animals in Texas.
Nilgai are numerous and curious in some areas where they aren’t hunted very much. We weren’t hunting in those areas, however. We were hunting where the nilgai had been hunted more and were much more aware and skittish. Hunters have been known to scout for days without ever seeing one.
We approached the first gate to the hunting grounds. I was in the front seat, so I had my hand on the door lever ready to jump out and open the gate. To my surprise, our driver ran smack into it. Very cool! "We need these at home," I thought. Although, I’d probably crash my truck before gaining sufficient practice. Once you decide to bump it, there’s no hesitating. The whole gate swings around into position to patiently await the next brave driver with a grill guard.
We cruised past a small gathering of whitetail deer and a group of whitish-colored grazers many yards away that our driver pointed out were axis deer. My eyes peeled. I’m in Texas and I am going to see some real live animals that I’ve only seen in pictures from my Alaska and Oregon homes. Around another corner, and through the cactus and brush, a vision of a blue, devilish, double-horned, mystical, unicorn-looking creature with a curious leaning glance stood next to the road, and then instantly disappeared into the brush as if it had never been there. I thought I was just seeing things and blinked my eyes. What in the world was that!? My mind began to adjust after the groggy six-hour trip. That must have been a nilgai!
"I think I just saw one," I stuttered to the guys. For an instant I thought to myself, "I’m not sure I want to shoot that." It looked like a magical creature from a child’s fantasy. I immediately came to my senses and the excitement bubbled through me. That’s what we’re hunting for?! I couldn’t wait to see one up close, and obviously there’s only one way to do that! I was so excited by this time, I could barely remember my own name.
Here comes another bump gate. I won’t wince this time.
My mind started racing through the steps I’d take the next chance I’d have at seeing one, next time with my .300 Winchester Short Mag in my hands.
"Okay, Dara. Stay calm. Don’t forget to lower your bolt, and for Pete’s sake, squeeze the trigger, either that, or aim a little low and to the left."
That often works when I’m excited because I naturally shoot high and to the right if I don’t concentrate and squeeze the trigger. My mind is racing.
"No! Stay on target. That can work, but don’t take any chances. Be ready and squeeze the trigger, just like the hunting dreams." I’ve taken so many beautiful trophies in those dreams! This is real, and I may only have one chance, unlike the do-overs I arrange if something goes haywire in a dream. I will have to do this one right the first time!
I carried my rifle around the house dry-firing at the eyes on our head mounts for the past month or more. I shot my 300WSM and Ruger 10/22 at balloons tied to the trees outside and practiced with my shotgun at the trap club. I feel ready for this, so why am I so nervous? Seeing that blue, devilish antelope disappear so quickly got me wound up. He was sure fast.
As we rolled down the dirt road, I began to think I was spotting more interesting species through the dust and brush until I realized the strange creatures I was seeing were cactus and not nearly as exciting to shoot at. I’m in a very different terrain than I’m used to, but instead of miscalculating distance, I’m spotting vegetation. I have a feeling I’ll have several opportunities to get excited over cactus paddles before the end of this hunt.
Finally we banged and clanged and clattered through the last bump gate, then rounded the corner to the cabins and rustic, inviting lodge. I was anxious to meet the guys and get a drink after our long trip! Our first dinner included bacon-wrapped nilgai jalapeno poppers! That’s something you only get in south Texas, and man, were they good.
The food was wonderful and the company was even better. Matt warned me about Ronnie Howard. Thankfully, he didn’t greet us wearing his rotten hillbilly buckteeth and long ponytail hat this time, although Matt made sure I’d be prepared for anything. After I got to know him better, I was kicking myself for deciding not to dress up in the hot pink wig and black mini skirt. Matt had hoped to properly introduce his new wife to his old friend for the first time. We chickened out and decided not to fuss with it on the airplane even after I carried the wig all the way down there. We were glad, because Ronnie wasn’t who picked us up at the airport after all. It didn’t take me long to realize how much he deserved it, though.
The first morning, Ronnie told us to put our gear in the rig. I got in and scoped out where everything was. I figured out how to work the windows, and practiced opening the door. I wanted to remember exactly where the door handle was in the heat of the moment. From the back, I figured out the quickest and safest way to maneuver around in case I would have to switch sides in a pinch. I gently put the stock to the floor and held the barrel straight up. From there, I could easily flip the barrel around without touching anything or pointing the barrel in an unsafe direction. After hearing how little time we’d have to prepare for a shot, these were good things to straighten out in my mind before getting started.
Right out of the first bump gate, I saw a glimpse of a good bull, and landed a successful shot at a big javalina within only a few hours. It was on the opposite side of the rig from me, so it was a good thing I practiced for that!
Ronnie razzed me intensely after missing a standing broadside shot at a huge bull at 200 yards, particularly later when I began to tell a story about when I had been practicing shooting. I never had a chance to finish that story with Ronnie.
I know what happened with that bull. I didn’t take the time to get a decent rest. I was so worried about it jetting off, and Matt shouting "Shoooooot! Shooot it! Shooot nooow!" didn’t help. He was forgiven for being so excited. For some reason the bull didn’t run until I scared him into the next state, or country rather considering where we were. I should have taken a little more time. A dear friend told me once, "There’s a whole lot more space around ‘em than there is through ‘em." Nobody can argue with that.
South Texas is in a terrible drought. A few years ago when Matt was there it was lush and green, but this time was dry, gray and dusty. Sadly, we found several deer bones and carcasses laying around various corners of the ranch. There were many buzzards gathering at a particular spot, so we drove over to see a whitetail doe who had apparently expired during the night. Down the road, I saw some antler sheds from the Suburban and jumped out to run through the dusty, beige grass and low brush to pick them up. Quickly I recalled the size of the rattlesnake hide hanging in the lodge, and decided since I wasn’t wearing the proper boots, there was no need to be in such a hurry. In his strong southern accent, Ronnie told us about an interesting oak mot he wanted to show us. The oak trees grew out of a bowl in search of better conditions, they grew sideways until their branches reached out of the hole. After Ronnie warned us to watch out for snakes, Matt and I climbed up on the huge oak trunks for a photo.
Finally the next afternoon, Ronnie found a group of medium-sized nilgai running like turbo-charged rocking horses to get as far away from us in the shortest amount of time possible. Ronnie inexplicably caught up to them several times over about four miles as the crow flies. That’s tough to do. Finally, he headed them off where they had to cross a big opening. I’d been through all the motions in my head so many times. These darn critters are so fast, and I already missed one standing still, but I wasn’t going to let that intimidate me now. Knowing from my limited experience that shooting opportunities at a nilgai can be tough to come by, I decided I’d better capitalize or be guaranteed to go home empty-handed. Fortunately, I felt prepared for a fast moving shot. I very quickly aimed a little more than a body length in front of him as the dust pillowed up around his swift, light feet and he whizzed past. I heard my bullet hit him just right when the recoil knocked the scope out of my focus.
Matt very seldom ever goes home from any hunt empty-handed, either! He shot one right after I did from the same group. It was a double-nilgai day in Texas! And, according to the guys at camp where our matching nilgai were weighed and measured, they were twin brothers. We couldn’t argue about which one was bigger or better this time.
I’ve never been on a more exciting hunt than this. Everything happened so fast that I stood dumbfounded staring at this nilgai on the ground for several moments. Ronnie raised his hand for a high-five, but he had to holler to break the daze I was in. I was more thrilled about making the difficult shot than I was about taking home the bigger bull. The big one would look better on the wall, but big nilgai are practically inedible. I decided I’d much rather have more confidence in my shooting skills, a skull mount and good meat.
Thankfully, the only rattlesnake we encountered the entire time was slithering across the gravel road about 50 yards in front of us on the way back to camp as the sun was quickly disappearing. The monster stretched across the road and was quickly headed for cover in the grass. Matt surprised me by hesitating long enough to ask Ronnie if he could shoot it. Meanwhile, I was in the back shouting, "Shoooot! Shooot it!" He coolly aimed his .338 Ultra Mag low and in front of it’s head and took it clean off not to be seen by us again. He never ceases to amaze me, although I try not to tell him that too often! I’ll try just about anything, and not very much scares me or grosses me out, but I tried holding that big six-foot snake up for a photo and it flinched, then curled its tail up and continued to squirm. Matt seemed to take an eternity to get the photo. He finally got one before I wilted into a huge, giant weenie and threw it down. We’re having the skin tanned, but we didn’t save any meat. Someone said they taste like chicken. I’m not interested in finding out. Like I said before, I’d rather have the good meat!
The guys said they thought I shot just over the big bull that was standing still. In my mind, it’s probably more likely that I shot a body-length in front of it! Shooters must practice, practice, and practice some more before hunting, whether they hunt with a bow, a muzzleloader, a rifle or even a slingshot. I practiced and I was ready for a fast running shot. I constantly learn new things from hunting, and this time, although it is something we all often hear, I learned how important it is to be ready for anything. After several hunters who have hunted nilgai where we were in Texas said it’s almost impossible to sneak up on them, and seldom does anyone get a chance at a nilgai standing still...Anything can happen!
