A gemsbuck was a big reason I went to Africa. My guide and I spent three days solely hunting one. We stalked a few young males, but I passed each time - they weren't big enough. We moved to an area with a waterhole we thought they would use. When we arrived that morning, we found fresh tracks and waited until dark without seeing a single animal. Unlike most species, gemsbuck don’t need to drink every day. With no new tracks the next morning I knew I had a real chance. After another long, slow day in the blind, a lone oryx emerged. My heart started pounding - it was a monster. She walked straight to the water and began to drink, but spooked and walked away when she heard the dirt shift as I moved into position. We hoped it might return, but I spotted her slipping back into the bush. We snuck out of the blind and saw it about 65 yards away, quartered away. I didn’t have much time. I took the shot with iron sights. My legs were shaking with nerves and adrenaline. I now had my trophy.

Rifle: 416 Rigby