Is a 30-30 Good Oryx Medicine? Depends

It’s hard to believe I first started my career as a state game warden over 30 years ago. Oh, I worked for other law enforcement agencies over the years, before and since. But I spent some of the best years in the field with New Mexico Game and Fish (NMGF).

In 1995 my first permanent duty station as a district officer was out of the small town of Truth or Consequences, (previously known as Hot Springs) in Southwestern New Mexico. I was fortunate to enjoy a great deal of wildlife diversity in my district. Everything from big game to small game, and waterfowl to fishing at Elephant Butte Lake and along the Rio Grande River.

Also in my country was a large portion of White Sands Missile Range (WSMR). It’s an immense area of land covering 3200 square miles. Within WSMR aside from deer, pronghorn, and desert bighorn sheep, NMGF also has the privilege of managing a large population of Gemsbok, also known as oryx.

The Introduction of Oryx

The state game department introduced Oryx in the late 1960’s and early 1970’s onto WSMR. It was experiment to determine if they were viable as an exotic game species. In short, they flourished. The oryx is a hearty, beautiful, and resilient antelope native to southern Africa. They are also excellent table fare. Oryx are big, weighing up to 500 pounds. Both sexes grow long, spear type horns that can reach to in excess of 40 inches in length.

The first hunt for these African antelope on WSMR took place in 1974 and hunts for them are still ongoing in New Mexico to this day. Oryx provide a wonderful hunting opportunity to those who may never be able to hunt them in their native lands.

During my six years as the district officer in Truth or Consequences, I worked most of the annual oryx hunts on WSMR. I personally hunted and took my first Oryx in 1981 on WSMR, when there were only 12 permits available.

As a game warden, one thing that became immediately obvious to me, especially when working these hunts, is just how tough oryx are if not hit correctly. They are notorious for taking lots of punishment and then leaving country with the hunter wondering what happened. As a warden, I was involved in dozens of tracking exploits of wounded oryx on these hunts at WSMR. Being a military reservation, many locations were not accessible to hunters on their own and they had to be escorted.

Face to Face Encounter

I also learned quickly that oryx can be downright aggressive when wounded or cornered. One case in particular sticks out more than any other as I came very close to getting skewered. Several years ago, after a long day of patrol working one of those sanctioned oryx hunts, I was headed back to the check point where hunters enter and exit WSMR.

Driving my state truck, I came over a rise on one of the many paved roads on the missile range and found a lone oryx walking the same way I was headed right down the middle of the road. Nothing unusual about that. Seeing oryx was routine even during the hunts. But as I got closer, I noticed the animal seemed to be a bit lethargic. In fact, I drove right up behind the oryx, a bull, before he slowly meandered off the road to my right. Not being able to see the off side of the bull I decided to stop and try to determine if he was perhaps wounded.

Sick – Wounded – Both?

The bull was mature, with one horn perhaps 36 inches, the other being broken about 10 inches from the tip. I also took note that his overall appearance looked to be sickly. He wandered off the road perhaps 75 yards and stopped broadside watching me. I still could not see his off side. I believed he was in fact wounded so I decided to exit the truck and try to get a better look.

Two decisions I made at this point may or may have not been the best. First, knowing the aggressive nature of oryx, I decided to leave Teddy, my good trailing dog and constant companion, tied in the back of the truck.  Second, I grabbed my Winchester 30-30 saddle ring carbine from between the front seats instead of my .308 bolt rifle cased in the back seat. At least I took a rifle.

I of course had my duty sidearm on my side, a 1911 in .45 ACP, but having a bit of sense still, knew a rifle in hand was preferable. Leaving the truck parked on the side of the road with Teddy looking on giving me a look of “what are you thinking?”

I walked slowly towards the broadside oryx still watching me with what I now know was disdain.

Seeing Oryx Aggression First-Hand

Getting to within about 50 yards and looking for any obvious injury, the bull turned to face me. I stopped and considered that this may not be the best sign. To my astonishment the oryx began to walk slowly towards me. I thought for a second that maybe he had become accustomed to a feed truck as the location was very close to a cattle ranch across the boundary fence. I had intuitively paused close to a large mesquite atop a small sand dune. This soon proved to be useful.

About the time I said to myself, “what is up with this critter” the bull turned on a burst of speed and determination with his head down and coming towards me fast. They say the average human attacker can close a seven or so yard distance in under two seconds. This bull decided he could accomplish the same from 50 yards. My gut instinct was to turn and get behind the mesquite dune I had wisely stopped by. The only problem with that is my size 14 boot caught a clump of tobosa grass and down I went.

Now, flat on my face and expecting to feel a horn in my backside any second, I had at least fallen behind the dune mesquite. Moving quicker than I knew possible I rolled up and onto my feet. The oryx was standing directly on the other side of the mesquite, I think trying to figure out how I had disappeared so quickly. I heard Teddy barking. I gave a glance over my shoulder, his look was now one of, “hey dad you got yourself into this and I’m tied up so you’re on your own”.

Throwing the 30-30 to my shoulder I realized I had not even levered a round into the chamber. Doing so now and looking eye to eye with the oryx at about six or seven yards, I actually said out loud, “there will be no more of that s**t”.

I moved to my left to get more of the mesquite between me and the bull. He was having none of that and he came hard for me around the other end of the mesquite. The carbine was already up and cocked, I squared off at him and planted my feet. As he came around the end of the brush his head came up and he slowed, the front sight of the carbine was between his eyes. The Winchester barked on its own, I never heard the shot or felt the recoil. The bull collapsed as if struck by lightning once the 30-30 round hit him.

Five steps was all, from where I shot to the bull’s nose. I called my sergeant who was also working the hunt. He came over to inspect the scene half suspecting I had found some lame excuse to shoot an oryx. But the tracks and my rather large divot I left on the ground told the story. But the real evidence was on the underside of the belly on the bull. We found a festering wound. Cutting into it we pulled out a six-inch tip of broken oryx horn. The bull was sick and obviously in a foul mood from a fight with another oryx.

Thinking back, I realize how fortunate I was that the oryx didn’t seriously injure me, or worse. Also, best I left Teddy tied in the truck despite his obvious disagreement.

So, is an ole 30-30 good medicine for oryx? Luckily in this case, yes it was.