Trophy Hunting

http://www.all-creatures.org/cash/articles-trophy.html

Article posted by C.A.S.H. Committee To Abolish Sport Hunting

CLICK HERE for more from CASH COURIER NEWSLETTER, Fall 2017

By Peter Muller, VP of C.A.S.H.

Trophy hunting is the selective hunting of wild game for human recreation. In “Trophy Hunting” the entire animal or part of the animal is kept as the “trophy.” It is frequently kept as a remembrance of the hunt. The game sought is usually the oldest with the largest body size, largest antlers or other distinguishing attributes.

trophy hunting

Trophy hunting has both supporters as well as opponents – both from within the hunting fraternity and from outside of it. Discussions concerning trophy hunting are not only about the question of the morality of recreational hunting and the supposed conservation efforts of hunting, but also the observed decline in the animal species that are targets for trophy hunting.
Trophy hunting occurs internationally at many levels. We all remember the worldwide press coverage and outcry that Cecil received with many negative comments regarding that taking.

Was it legal?

Was Cecil “set up” for the kill by a wealthy American?

What was the benefit of the money paid by the hunter to the local community?

and so on..

However, let’s restrict this discussion to the US only and look at the arguments in favor and opposed to trophy hunting in the US.
In the US, trophy hunters select their targets according to whether the animal has the largest horns, antlers, or other visible attributes that would be of importance to pass on to future generations – in other words, they are genetically laden with attributes that need to be passed on to future generations for the benefit of the species as a whole.

To selectively kill off these genetically laden members of the species will gradually diminish these positive attributes from appearing in future versions of the species as a whole. In other words, the species, as a whole would slowly but surely decline.

Trophy hunting causes what has been referred to as “unnatural selection.” It has been shown to reduce antler size and body size in roe deer and horn size and body size in mountain sheep.

This unnatural selection which is common to all groups that are trophy hunted likely compromises the long-term viability of all terrestrial and aquatic species.

You can read more here: Fred Allendorf and Jeffery Hard, “Human Induced Evolution Caused by Unnatural Selection through Harvest of Wild Animals,” Proceedings of the National Academy of Science 106 (2009); 9987-94.

To compensate for smaller bucks, game managers now cooperate with the Quality Deer Management Association to build herds with large antlers for sport hunting.

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Olympia man taken to Harborview Medical Center after hunting accident

Snowfall-YH-011317-4.jpg

A fog looms over Rimrock lake off of U.S. Highway 12 near White Pass, Wash., Thursday, Jan. 12, 2017. The area has already seen snow this fall, not as much as pictured here, but that won’t be far away. (SOFIA JARAMILLO/Yakima Herald-Republic file)

NACHES, Wash. — A 28-year-old Olympia man is at Harborview Medical Center in Seattle after accidentally shooting himself in the elbow while hunting near Rimrock Lake Thursday.

But it took more than two hours to get him there after a helicopter had to turn around due to of inclement weather.

The man was hunting with a primitive, muzzle-loading rifle, said sheriff’s Sgt. Judd Towell. Just after 10:30 a.m., he slipped and dropped his rifle, which fell behind his arm and discharged — shooting him in the back of the elbow, said Chief Criminal Deputy Ed Levesque. Deputies would not release the man’s name Thursday.

Towell said when the older, more primitive weapons hit the ground it sometimes causes them to release the lock and fire.

The man was able to apply his own tourniquet, tell dispatchers where he was and walk to the nearest road so deputies could find him, Towell said.

“He’s a pretty responsible guy,” he said. “He really saved his own life.”

An ambulance picked him up around 1 p.m., and took him to a local hospital, before he was flown to Harborview. Information on his condition was not available Thursday evening.

Towell said the gunshot wound was not life-threatening, however the man could lose his arm.

Comment: Why not a complete ban on grizzly hunting?

JUDY MALONE / TIMES COLONIST

OCTOBER 15, 2017 12:58 AM

I recently had the pleasure of visiting grizzly-bear country, inside the traditional Bute Inlet territory of the Homalco Nation.

Deep in the dense forest, with impossibly massive bears fishing the shores of a salmon-packed river, it was a page out of National Geographic. We saw nine grizzlies, including a female with her spring cubs, and a newly independent juvenile gamely trying to catch his lunch.

I come to see family and friends in your province often. I also come, as do so many from around the world, to see iconic wildlife in their natural settings.

Many of us deeply concerned for threatened wildlife were impressed when the people of B.C. made trophy hunting of grizzlies an election issue. When the new NDP government promised to end it, we looked forward to seeing that promise delivered quickly. The ban would be precedent-setting, with far-reaching implications. In a post-Cecil-the-lion world, people everywhere are agreeing that we will no longer tolerate the relentless killing of animals for what some people call sport.

Instead, the promised B.C. ban was both inexplicably delayed until after a full fall hunt season, then when delivered was incomplete. It was and is critically compromised by allowing the killing of grizzlies for meat. Safari Club International has actively interfered in this matter since the campaign for the ban began, even calling on rank-and-file members to crash and load media opinion polls and comments. But the reality is that while U.S. trophy hunters and local outfitters are angered by this ban, it is all too clear they see it as interference, and not as an end to the killing.

Your government has both dismissed science and insulted public intelligence by stating the hunt is sustainable and the ban was only in response to a shift in public attitudes. In a classic example of ethical doubling, Premier John Horgan once agreed grizzlies are struggling to survive habitat disruption and loss, and need our full protection.

Once elected, he then promptly announced a trophy hunt ban with a meat-hunt loophole big enough to drag a grizzly through. But the fact is that few Canadians hunt grizzly at all, and fewer still — if any — hunt grizzly for meat. Now, of course, many seem to have developed an appetite, or so they claim.

A public consultation period was announced, through Nov. 2. But the consultation is about how to manage the meat hunt, not if there should be a meat hunt. Now our media are headlining the results of a second poll. It shows what people asked for before the election and what they still want, is a complete ban. No hunting for trophy, for meat, no killing of any grizzly for any reason.

It shows something else. The public has been consulted and the answer is loud and clear. British Columbians and all Canadians are the key stakeholders on this issue. The people who elected your government want a complete ban. Polls have found that 91 per cent of British Columbians and 84 per cent of Albertans, including those living in rural areas, oppose trophy hunting.

There is no question these numbers would play out across Canada and elsewhere. It would certainly be tough to come up with another issue on which 80 to 90 per cent of people polled would agree.

A new report has told us that more than half of Canada’s wildlife species are dying off at an alarming rate. Trophy hunting is unethical, insupportable and an easily eliminated threat. Canadians and tourists stand with the citizens of B.C. We demand and expect the NDP government to oppose the killing of any grizzly for any reason.

 

Judy Malone of Toronto is a frequent flyer to British Columbia, and founder of Tourists Against Trophy Hunting, an international coalition of conservationists, ecologists, travellers, travel agents, writers and bloggers.

Opinion: Only ban on all grizzly hunting will ensure the slaughter ends

Opinion: Only ban on all grizzly hunting will ensure the slaughter ends

Grizzly bear No. 122 feeds on a moose carcass in 2013.

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Last month, a hunter shot and killed a female grizzly bear after she wandered from Alberta into neighbouring B.C., where grizzly trophy hunting is still legal. Bear 148 was moved in July from the Bow Valley just outside Banff National Park to Kakwa Wildland Park, closer to the B.C.-Alberta border. According to the B.C. Conservation Service, the hunter who shot Bear 148 was well aware that the bear was wearing a research tracking collar but killed it anyway, which isn’t illegal.

Bear 148 wasn’t the first grizzly from a neighbouring jurisdiction to be killed by hunters after entering B.C. In 2014, a hunter near Golden legally killed Bear 125, which was part of a monitoring program in Banff National Park, after it travelled from the Upper Bow Valley in Alberta across the continental divide to B.C.’s Upper Blaeberry Valley. As with Bear 148, killing Bear 125 in B.C. was legal, even though both bears came from a highly threatened population in and around Banff National Park. Alberta banned grizzly-bear hunting in 2006, but in B.C., resident and foreign hunters legally kill about 300 grizzlies every year.

That hunters in B.C. can kill bears from Alberta, or other neighbouring jurisdictions like Montana, after they step to the other side of the border reveals how ineffectual our wildlife policies are for species that roam across vast areas of territory. Grizzlies don’t recognize political borders. They have huge ranges that extend well outside parks and protected areas. This puts them at great risk of encountering not just hunters but other threats, such as confrontations with people at townsites or workers’ camps in remote areas.

Polls show that most B.C. residents oppose trophy hunting of grizzlies. And many First Nations have banned the practice in their territories. The trophy hunt was even a major issue in the recent B.C. election. Now in government, the NDP has announced a plan to end all grizzly hunting in B.C.’s Great Bear Rainforest, but to allow a regulated “food hunt” of grizzly bears in place of the trophy hunt elsewhere.

A food hunt wouldn’t prevent the killing of “protected” transboundary grizzlies. Although no one legitimately hunts grizzlies for meat, such a policy has a built-in loophole that would allow recreational hunters to kill grizzlies as long as they surrender the animal’s head, pelt, claws, teeth and other “trophy” items to a government official and/or remove the meat from the carcass and pack it out. These proposed changes to hunting regulations are semantics. Grizzly bears will continue to suffer pain and deaths at the hands of hunters, regardless of whether hunters hand the head, pelt, paws, teeth and claws to a government bureaucrat after killing the animal, or keep them to be stuffed and mounted on a wall or made into a rug. We remain concerned that recreational hunters could continue to kill grizzlies under the guise of food hunting.

Grizzlies have already lost over half of their historical range in North America because of habitat loss and earlier periods of over-hunting. South of the border, the Trump administration has removed protection under the Endangered Species Act for a threatened grizzly population in the Greater Yellowstone Region, and several U.S. states have begun the process to allow grizzly-bear hunting again.

We commend the B.C. government’s commitment to stop grizzly hunting throughout the Great Bear Rainforest, as it will finally ensure that the iconic namesake of this vast coastal region will be fully protected. And while we appreciate the B.C. government’s desire to end grizzly-bear trophy hunting throughout the province, the proposed food-hunt policy fails to address significant conservation and ethical problems with the grizzly hunt. Only a ban on all grizzly hunting will ensure that the slaughter ends.

David Suzuki is a scientist, broadcaster, author and co-founder of the David Suzuki Foundation. Faisal Moola is the foundation’s director general for Ontario and northern Canada. Chris Genovali is executive director of the Raincoast Conservation Foundation.

Poll suggests majority of British Columbians support complete ban on grizzly bear hunt

THE CANADIAN PRESS/Jonathan Hayward
– A A +

A new poll suggests three-quarters of British Columbians think grizzly bears should not be hunted in this province at all.

The online survey, conducted by Insights West, found 74 per cent of the over 800 participants said they would support a ban on hunting grizzly bears, while 19 per cent are opposed.

Over 800 people responded to the study across the province, including several self-described hunters, 58 per cent of whom said they would support a ban.

The survey was held for three days at the end of August, two weeks after the B.C. government banned trophy hunting of grizzly bears. A residential hunt is still allowed under the new ruling.

READ MORE: Roughly 75% of rural British Columbian voters oppose grizzly bear trophy hunt: poll

The study found 78 per cent of women across B.C. support a complete ban on the hunting of grizzly bears. The area of the province with the most support for a ban was Vancouver Island, with 81 per cent of residents there voting against the hunt.

Eighty-one per cent of people who voted for both the NDP or the Green Party in the B.C. provincial election in May are in support of the ban, while residents aged 35 to 54 make up the age group that supports a ban the most, with 79 per cent.

READ MORE: B.C. NDP plan to ban grizzly bear trophy hunt

“With so many residents who believe grizzlies should not be hunted at all, there is definitely appetite for more action” beyond the government’s trophy hunting ban, Mario Canseco of Insights West said.

Province to consult on grizzly regulations

The poll comes as the province announces a round of public consultation on its new grizzly hunting regulations, to take effect Nov. 30.

Earlier this summer, the new NDP government announced plans to ban trophy hunting, which would close all grizzly hunting in the Great Bear Rainforest, and would block hunters from possessing the paws, head or hide of a grizzly.

Hunting for meat is still permitted.

In a media release, the Ministry of Forests Lands and Natural Resources said it now wants input on five areas related to the new rules:

  • Changes to manage the ban in hunting areas that overlap the Great Bear Rainforest;
  • Changes that will prohibit the possession of “trophy” grizzly bear parts;
  • Changes that will manage prohibited grizzly bear parts;
  • Changes to prohibit the trafficking of grizzly bear parts, and
  • New reporting requirements for taxidermists.

British Columbians looking to weigh in can find out more here, and make comment until Nov. 2.

© 2017 Global News, a division of Corus Entertainment Inc.

8 Bears Already Killed in NV Bear Hunt

OCT 5, 2017 — Friends,

We are sad to share that since the Nevada bear hunt began on September 15th, 8 bears have already lost their lives to despicable trophy hunters.

Up to an additional 12 are slated to be killed before the season ends on December 1.

In the Spring, we will be calling on all of you to speak out against the Nevada bear hunt during the annual Nevada Board of Wildlife Commissioners meeting to set the quota for number of bears to be killed in 2018. We will be demanding that the wildlife commissioners set a zero quota.

If you are wondering why we don’t simply ask for the hunt to come to an end, the reason is that the Nevada bear hunt is mandated in NV law. The law was made to protect the “rights” of those who want to slaughter animals for fun, despite Nevada’s small bear population of just 3-400 and despite the fact that the majority of Nevadans oppose trophy hunting. We hope to circumvent the “necessity” for a hunt by asking for the hunt to continue…with zero bears killed.

We are pleased to share that many individuals are rising up against the bear hunt. Alongside No Bear Hunt NV, CompassionWorks International held a very successful and well-attended protest in Reno, NV on September 16th that gained ample media coverage.

Also, having successfully raised the funds, in the next two weeks we will be distributing a postcard encouraging residents to be “bear smart” to 15,000 homes in the Tahoe basin where human/bear encounters are frequent. We hope this will curb encounters that result in bears being relocated or killed.

Finally, here in Nevada we are suffering from the tragedy that occurred just days ago in Las Vegas. Unbelievably, the Las Vegas Convention and Visitors Authority are continuing with their plan to host the annual conference of Safari Club International in Las Vegas next January/February. To host a vile group of “thrill killers” after what Las Vegas has just endured is beyond the pale. Please join us in speaking out against Safari Club International (the world’s largest group of trophy hunters) and their conference in Las Vegas by signing this petition: https://www.change.org/p/las-vegas-convention-and-visitors-authority-stop-supporting-guns-and-killing-ban-sci.

Finally, we are grateful to all who donated to our postcard campaign. If you would like to support our efforts to hold protests, petition for a zero quota, and do other outreach aimed at saving the lives of Nevada’s precious bears, please visit www.cwint.org/donate to make your secure, tax-deductible donation online.

Thank you, as always, for your friendship and support, and for your care for Nevada’s wildlife.

For the Animals,
Carrie LeBlanc, M.A.
Executive Director
CompassionWorks International

38 SIGNATORS SAY GRIZZLY ‘MEAT’ HUNT IS A TROPHY HUNT IN DISGUISE

New Denver, BC – Thirty-eight environmental and animal welfare organizations, along with wildlife-based businesses and prominent activists, have signed an Open Letter to the BC Government…

opposing the continuation of grizzly bear hunting for meat. “The BC government is planning to end trophy hunting of grizzly bears, but will allow them to be hunted for meat across most of the province, except for part of the Great Bear Rainforest,” says Ian McAllister of Pacific Wild.  “We are asking for a complete ban on hunting grizzly bears all over BC.”

The Open Letter says there has never been significant hunting of grizzly bears for meat in BC. “Previously grizzly bears were classified by BC Fish & Wildlife with non-game animals such as wolverines, wolves and cougars,” says Alan Burger of BC Nature. “Hunters were specifically allowed under law to leave the meat on the ground and take only the trophy parts. Many British Columbians are appalled that the government has now invented a grizzly bear meat hunt.”

“People don’t travel hundreds or thousands of kilometres, pay tens of thousands of dollars, and risk their lives shooting at grizzly bears to put meat on the table,” the Open Letter states.  “They largely do it only for trophies and sport.  Even if they have to leave the head, hide and claws behind, they take away trophy videos, photographs and bragging rights. The bears will still be killed for sport”.

The Open Letter disputes the BC government’s claim that hunting grizzly bears is sustainable. “Grizzly bears are a species at risk,” says Wayne McCrory, a bear biologist and Valhalla Wilderness Society director. “For years independent scientists have warned the government that BC may have far fewer grizzly bears than we think”.

“We have thriving grizzly bear viewing and photography businesses in the Interior, just like on the coast,” says famed Kootenay wildlife photographer, Jim Lawrence. “People are thrilled to see these magnificent animals alive and in photographs.

“Stop the Grizzly Killing Society receives comments from many hundreds of people,” says Trish Boyum, who has campaigned tirelessly to protect grizzlies. “It is clear that British Columbians want a total ban on killing grizzly bears across BC, except where they would be hunted by some First Nations People for sustenance and ceremonial purposes.”

“Collectively, our organizations, which represent the majority of British Columbians, urge the BC government not to authorize any further grizzly bear hunting until it has done a full review of public input and the soon-to-be released Auditor General’s report. This is a very critical conservation issue in our province and we have an opportunity to do it right.,” says Dr. Sara Dubois, Chief Scientific Officer of the BC SPCA.

The open letter can be downloaded at: http://bearmatters.com/lettertocgovtopposinghuntinggrizzlybearsformeat/

38 Signators:
• Animal Advocates of BC
• Animal Alliance of Canada
• Animal Justice
• Animal Protection Party
• Applied Conservation GIS
• BC Nature
• BC SPCA
• Bears Matter
• Canadians for Bears
• Clayoquot Action
• Craighead Institute
• David Suzuki Foundation
• DeerSafe Victoria
• First Nations Environmental Network
• Friends of the Lardeau River
• Friends of Nemaiah Valley
• George Rammell Grizzly bear activist
• Great Bear Chalet
• Humane Society International/Canada
• Justice for B.C. Grizzlies
• Kootenay Reflections Photography
• Kwiakah First Nation
• West Coast Wild Art Co.
• Lifeforce Foundation
• Ocean Adventures Charter Co.
• Ocean Light II Adventures
• Pacific Rainforest Adventure Tours
• Pacific Wild
• Purcell Alliance for Wilderness
• Save the Cedar League
• Steve Williamson Photography
• Stop the Grizzly Killing Society
• The Furbearers
• Tourists Against Trophy Hunting
• Valhalla Wilderness Society
• Wildlife Defence League
• Wolf Awareness Incorporated
• Zoocheck Canada

OPEN LETTER TO THE BC GOVERNMENT OPPOSING
THE CONTINUATION OF HUNTING GRIZZLY BEARS FOR MEAT

We, the undersigned environmental and animal welfare organzations, and wildlife-based businesses, are pleased that the current BC government is committed to end the trophy hunt of grizzly bears. However we strongly oppose the government’s plans to allow continued grizzly bear hunting, under the pretext of hunting for meat, except for a jointly-regulated First Nations ceremonial/sustenance hunt. Part of the Great Bear Rainforest would have a total ban on hunting, but that’s only a very small part of grizzly bear habitat in BC. We oppose the meat hunt for the following reasons:

1. Grizzly bears are a species at risk. They are blue-listed in BC, and threatened by poaching, human conflicts, habitat destruction and hunting. They have disappeared from 18% of their range in BC. (1) Out of 56 grizzly bear subpopulations in BC, 9 are classified as “threatened” by British Columbia.

2. We expect to see much trophy hunting continued under the guise of “meat” hunting. In the past, virtually all grizzly bear hunting has been trophy hunting, except for First Nations ceremonial / sustenance hunting (which we do not oppose). Many hunters find the meat unpalatable. Grizzly bears were previously included by BC Fish & Wildlife with non-game animals such as wolverines, wolves and cougars. In the past, BC hunting regulations have had a provision allowing hunters to leave the meat on the ground and take only the trophy parts. People do not travel hundreds or thousands of kilometres, pay tens of thousands of dollars, and risk their lives shooting at grizzly bears to put meat on the table. The proposed new regulations for meat hunting will simply disguise trophy hunting as meat hunting. Even if the head, hide and claws are left on the ground, or given to a conservation officer, the hunter will take away trophy videos, photographs and bragging rights. The bears will still be killed for sport.

The BC government is considering various options to distinguish trophy hunting from meat hunting, but they only increase our conviction that this division is unenforceable. For many years BC has been unable to control substantial poaching of bears, how will it account for every trophy part of every bear shot by hunters?

3. The government has claimed the grizzly hunt is sustainable. However, independent biologists have been saying for years that this is not true. We do not even know with certainty how many grizzly bears there are in BC, or how many can be killed without reducing the population. Peer-reviewed studies by scientists have found numerous cases of too many bears being killed (by all causes), even according to the government’s own population numbers. Studies have proven that hunters often kill too many female bears. The European Union investigated BC’s grizzly bear hunt, ruled it environmentally unsustainable, and banned the import of trophies.

4. Closing the meat hunt in a limited area will concentrate hunting in other areas. While the government proposes to stop all grizzly bear hunting in a 230,000-hectare area of the Great Bear Rainforest, this is only a small part of grizzly bear habitat across BC. Grizzly bear hunting in this area will simply move to other coastal and interior areas of the province.

In addition, the undersigned object to the following aspects of the public consultation process for the new grizzly bear hunting regulations.

1. The process only considers how to manage the meat hunt, not whether there should even be a meat hunt. Participants are forced to accept the meat hunt as fait accompli.

2. Poor public access to information. Only those who sign confidentiality agreements can have access to some important information. Only those willing to sign the confidentiality agreements can be “stakeholders”, which receive priority consultation. The government has not released a complete list of stakeholders. The process was not advertised until recently, when it had already been running about a month, unbeknownst to many undersigned organizations. The confidentiality agreements represent muzzling of public organizations and suppressing information.

In June of this year, 23 organizations concerned with the welfare of wildlife sent a letter to the BC government that stated: “The wildlife of the province belongs to all British Columbians, and has by law been held by the government in trust.” The letter came about because the provincial government had been giving hunting organizations and related businesses priority access to consultation on matters related to wildlife, resulting in glaring policy bias.

Today the undersigned organizations and businesses are seeking increased recognition by the government that BC wildlife belongs to all Canadians, who have an equal stake in how it is managed, and an equal right to relevant information. We expect proportionate representation in all provincial wildlife matters. BC has over 1,500 species at risk. Recognizing the worldwide biodiversity crisis, the management of our wildlife must shift away from maximizing how many animals hunters can kill, to the practice of conservation biology to ensure the survival of species at risk.

We hold that the upcoming Auditor General’s report on the grizzly bear hunt — which was due to be released in September — is critical information for all parties to have before making decisions on this issue. Rushing to change the hunting regulations before the report is released wastes the tax dollars that have been spent to better inform decision-making. We urge the BC government not to authorize any further grizzly bear hunting until it has done a full review of public input and the soon-to-be released Auditor General’s report.

Sincerely,

References
1. COSEWIC assessment and update status report on the Grizzly Bear of Canada, https://www.registrelep-sararegistry.gc.ca/default.asp?lang=En&n=A32186C4-1&offset=9

2. Artelle, K. A., Anderson, S. C., Cooper, A. B., Paquet, P. C., Reynolds, J. D., Darimont, C. T., “Confronting Uncertainty in Wildlife Management: Performance of Grizzly Bear Management,” PLOS ONE, Nov. 2013, Vol. 8, http://journals.plos.org/plosone/article/file?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0078041&type=printable=

SHOULD WE KILL ANIMALS TO SAVE THEM?

BY MICHAEL PATERNITI 21 SEPTEMBER 2017
Trophy hunting fees help fund conservation. Critics say the benefits are exaggerated and that killing big game animals is wrong.

Elephants kept appearing in wrinkled herds, loitering near the dusty pans, in search of water. With the September temperature pushing a hundred degrees at midday, the pachyderms were moving at the edge of the Kalahari Desert in Namibia in a community-run wildlife reserve, or conservancy, called Nyae Nyae, where roughly 2,800 San people live today in unyielding conditions.

The elephants left snapped branches and warm scat in their wake. When they caught our scent, our sweat mixing with the sun-scorched grasses, they broke into a trumpeting jog and were gone.

Later, more materialized on the horizon, in the shade of the camel thorn trees, shades themselves. For such enormous creatures, they were nearly invisible but to the sharpest eyes. And those eyes belonged now to Dam, a short, compact man, a tracker from the local San people who stood in the back of the Land Cruiser.

“Oliphant!” he cried, leaning hard over the right side of the vehicle, picking out tracks in the sand. He tapped on the door, and we came to a whiplashing halt. Dam jumped down, checking a footprint, its edges corrugated and etched inside with smaller bubbles. He motioned, and Felix Marnewecke, the professional hunter and guide on this expedition, popped out of the driver’s side door. Strapping, ruddy, and blond, in his 40s, he seemed straight from central casting, wearing a cloth hat and shorts. He stood over the impression for a moment, a quizzical expression on his face, and nodded his head in agreement. If Nyae Nyae’s desert scrub is home to San families, it is also home to some of the last, biggest wild elephants in the world. This footprint was proof.

Surrounded by more than a hundred African game trophies in his home in Wilmington, Delaware, this hunter says the pursuit has been a passion since he was 12 years old. Hunting “sort of got into my blood,” he says, adding, “I’d like to think I’m a conservationist and a collector.” – PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID CHANCELLOR 

A hunter from Texas shot this rhino in 2010 on a game farm in Northern Cape, South Africa—with a tranquillizer dart. The sedated rhino, blindfolded to keep his eyes moist, later got a checkup from a veterinarian. Such hunts offer the thrill of the chase without the kill. A rule change in 2012 generally allows only veterinarians to fire tranquillizer darts; hunters can shoot darts containing vitamins. – PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID CHANCELLOR

The rest of us unloaded, followed by the tracker they only ever called the Old Man, another tracker in training, and one more San, who was acting as a “game guard” to make sure the hunt was conducted in accordance with the conservancy’s rules and quotas. Last to emerge in that swelter was the client himself, an American businessman, who opened the passenger door and reached up to the rack for his gun, a 12-pound, bespoke .470 Nitro Express double rifle. These guns, costing up to $200,000, are favoured for big-game trophy hunting because of their stopping power, and this is what he was here for, of course—a trophy. Two of them, actually. An avid hunter whose adventures had led him to Central Asia to shoot Marco Polo sheep at 15,000 feet and to Africa to shoot a leopard, he was now back in Africa for elephants.

According to Marnewecke, the going rate for a 14-day, single elephant hunt is about $80,000. The trophy hunt limit of five elephants a year in Nyae Nyae represents real money to the San. A portion of the fee is paid directly to community members and to a fund for conservation projects to protect the area’s wildlife. As for the elephant trophies themselves, the client would take the tusks home, while the meat would all go to the San.

Marnewecke and his client—anonymous at his request, given the controversial nature of elephant hunts—hoisted their rifles over their shoulders and fell in behind Dam, who took off at the speed of a jackrabbit. Marnewecke turned to me and said, as I stumbled to keep up, “I swear, there’s no better tracker in Africa. If it takes 30 miles, he never gives up.”

The head and skin of a lion, prepared for display by a taxidermy shop in South Africa, are boxed for shipment to the American who killed the animal in 2010. In response to dwindling numbers of lions in the wild and doubts about the conservation value of hunting them, the U.S. has since made it harder for hunters to import lion trophies. – PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID CHANCELLOR

From Charles Darwin and John James Audubon to Theodore Roosevelt and Ernest Hemingway, the most enlightened hunters have long viewed themselves as naturalists and conservationists, committed to sustainability among animal populations and the preservation of wild places where they stalk game. The linkage has become inextricable. Revenues of hundreds of millions in federal excise taxes levied on hunters go directly to wildlife management and related activities each year in the U.S. alone. And anyone who keeps a freezer full of venison is likely to tell you that the act of killing your own dinner in the wild is more humane than buying the plastic-wrapped meat of industrially raised livestock.

But trophy hunting today, especially of the so-called big five in Africa (elephant, lion, leopard, rhino, and Cape buffalo), brings with it a larger set of moral and financial questions. The sport killing of animals beleaguered in the wild can arouse fierce opposition, even more so if the animal—Cecil the Lion, for example—is named. Biologists estimated total losses of large mammals in protected areas on the continent at up to 60 percent between 1970 and 2005. As big game populations dwindle further under pressure from human encroachment, shifting climate norms, and widespread criminal poaching, there are hunters—the American client in Nyae Nyae, for one—who argue that a thoughtfully regulated and expensive hunt for bull elephants in their waning days makes a sustainable way to protect both species and habitat.

On we went, following the footprints. Every so often Dam would retrace his steps, circling in the dust, until we slowed to a more careful crawl. Coming over a knoll, we saw them at last, Loxodonta africana—what seemed to be three bulls, munching on leaves and grass. Marnewecke reached for his binoculars, the American client took his rifle in hand. Everything narrowed to a nervous point. African elephants live to be 60 or 70, and the biggest tuskers usually are older than 45. Tusks are measured by weight, and anything estimated to be over 50 pounds is considered a “shooter” by hunters. The client was looking for something in the 70-plus-pound range, but in the end, these elephants’ tusks were too small. Marnewecke made his determination, turned on his heel, and began walking back to the Land Cruiser. No one seemed disappointed exactly: It was almost enough to have stood in the suburbs of such magnificent creatures.

Cecil the Lion nuzzles a lioness in 2012, three years before Minnesota dentist Walter Palmer killed him outside Zimbabwe’s Hwange National Park. The cat’s death sparked an international outcry and greater scrutiny of hunting for the heads, skins, or other body parts of wild animals. – PHOTOGRAPH BY BRENT STAPELKAMP, ANASTASIA PHOTO

“The shooting is the last 5 percent of an elephant hunt,” Marnewecke said. “I feel quite shitty when an elephant dies, but those elephants pay for the conservation of the other 2,500 that move through here. Trophy hunting is the best economic model we have in Africa right now.” It was an argument I’d soon hear other hunters make and a host of activists and biologists tear apart. “In the end, it may save this place—and the elephants too.”

Standing in the heat and dust of the Kalahari that bright day, elephants at our back, I couldn’t help but wonder: Is that really how this works? Can you really kill five elephants to save 2,500? Or start from the other side: Why kill one at all?

Seen from the air Africa can appear as an illusion, rich velds and dramatic rifts, wide deserts and thundering rivers, these seemingly vast stretches of unfettered, unpopulated wild ostensibly forgotten by time and people. At a glance, it could be a repository for all our ideas about wilderness at its wildest. And yet today no patch here goes unclaimed, whether it’s marked, monetized, or fought over. The animals that roam the land have become commodified, part of a new consumerism, marketed and sold, their brands pitted against each other, their continued existence now a question of human demand, whim, and calculation. Wild game is the continent’s version of crude oil—and it too will run out someday.

Trophy hunting—the killing of big game for a set of horns or tusks, a skin, or a taxidermied body—has burgeoned into a billion-dollar, profit-driven industry, overseen in some cases by corrupt governments. Many countries in sub-Saharan Africa allow trophy hunting, with varying degrees of transparency and control, establishing yearly quotas meant to reflect the status of species and creating exclusions for highly vulnerable populations. South Africa, for instance, no longer allows hunting of leopards. Kenya has banned trophy hunting outright since 1977, and in Botswana, a comparatively wildlife-rich country, a temporary ban in government-controlled hunting areas went into effect in 2014.

This kudu offered good meat for children living in Namibia’s Nyae Nyae Conservancy. Village elders gathered to dance in celebration of the bounty after a German hunter shot the massive bull in 2016. For trophy species, the conservancy charges the hunt outfitter an overall fee, some of which benefits villagers, who also keep the meat. The clients take home the trophy parts. – PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID CHANCELLOR 

Africa once seemed to have “an inexhaustible supply of nature,” says American lion biologist Craig Packer, who has lived and worked on the continent for more than 40 years. But, he says, from 30,000 feet you would see that the habitats are shrinking. “Lions really are becoming more of an endangered species, and hunters should really not shoot these animals for sport unless they can provide positive evidence that they’re having a salutary effect on lion conservation.”

Biologists make the same argument against the hunting of other big game, including elephants, whose numbers across the continent have fallen sharply in recent years. Demand for rhino horn, elephant ivory, and lion bones, especially in Asia, has ignited a scourge of poaching. But the issue remains complicated, with some place-specific animal populations, such as the elephants of Nyae Nyae, thriving where there’s trophy hunting.

“If you get rid of those conservancies in Namibia,” Packer says, “you’d probably get rid of all the wildlife and be left with cattle.” He says he and other biologists “are concerned with populations, and that’s an abstraction. That’s where the real conflict with the animal-rights organizations comes, because in their mind, Fifi must never die. That’s where the biologists can sound pretty heartless and cold.” For Packer, saving an individual animal misses the point; what’s crucial is protecting genetically viable populations as a whole. “I’m not against hunting. There’s got to be a middle ground,” he says. In his estimation, though, that middle ground isn’t exactly in the middle: He believes that trophy hunting is of marginal value as a large-scale conservation tool in Africa.

On the other hand, hunters and government officials often cite a hotly contested estimate by the Safari Club International Foundation, a pro-hunting group with the stated goal of promoting conservation and education, that the roughly 18,000 trophy hunters who come to southern and eastern Africa each year contribute $436 million to the region’s GDP. The Humane Society International says the amount for that region is at most $132 million, or .03 percent of GDP.

The cost of trophy hunts in Africa varies widely by country and animal. In addition to an outfitter’s daily rate, the overall cost can include fees to governments and landowners and money for community development support and anti-poaching measures. – MONICA SERRANO, NGM STAFF; MEG ROOSEVELT  – PETER A. LINDSEY, VERNON BOOTH, AND OTHERS, PLOS ONE, 2012

In a 2013 op-ed in the New York Times countering the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service’s proposal to list lions as a threatened species, making it more difficult for Americans to hunt them, the Tanzanian wildlife director, Alexander Songorwa, stated that hunters on 21-day lion safaris paid government fees of up to $10,000 and pumped $75 million into the economy from 2008 to 2011. Packer says the 120,000 square miles of hunting areas in Tanzania need $600 million in investment every year, “and you’re not going to get that shooting lions for $10,000.”

For some, the hunting-antihunting debate boils down to Western environmentalists trying to dictate their agenda to Africa—a form of neocolonialism, as Marnewecke puts it. “Who gives anybody the right, sitting in another continent, to preach to us how we should manage our wildlife?” Hunters make the point that with all the outfitters paying to operate in conservancies and with trophy hunters paying fees for the game they shoot, hunting indeed has made significant financial contributions to the continent, and to habitat protection, while all that anti-hunting forces have done is make noise.

As for what happens to the hunters’ fees, that is notoriously hard to pin down—and impossible in kleptocracies. And anyway, Packer says, when it comes to funding lion conservation, “it’s such an underwhelming amount generated by sport hunting, it’s no wonder that despite years of lion hunting being allowed in these countries, the lion population has plummeted.” The International Union for Conservation of Nature, which monitors animal populations, reports that the number of lions in five populations in Tanzania fell by two-thirds from 1993 to 2014.

In Nyae Nyae in 2016 the German hunter who shot the kudu seen in the preceding photograph takes aim. He later killed an old bull elephant.Hunters argue that killing old bulls does the least harm to the species, but biologist Joyce Poole says older male elephants are “the primary breeders. They’re role models for younger males and chosen mates for females.” – PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID CHANCELLOR 

 

Villagers in Zimbabwe shared the meat of this elephant, shot in 2009 by an American hunter. They were participants in CAMPFIRE, a program of long standing in which rural groups sell access to their wildlife in return for some of the profit. Once a model of its kind, CAMPFIRE now gets mixed reviews: Too often the money earmarked for communities doesn’t reach them or get spent on local improvements. – PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID CHANCELLOR

 

After being picked clean of meat and skin, the bloody skull of a bull elephant awaits collection and burial by villagers at Nyae Nyae. Allowing the soft tissues to decompose underground makes it easier to remove the tusks, which the hunter will take home. – PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID CHANCELLOR

 

Villagers shovel dirt over the skull of a bull elephant hunted earlier in the day. They dug it up about a week later when the muscles around the tusks had receded. – PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID CHANCELLOR

Yet hunters say they’ve helped fund everything from health clinics to schools to water wells to boots-on-the-ground assistance against poachers, all while leaving a lighter footprint on the land than the often cited alternative to killing game: wildlife-watching in the form of photographic safaris. The UN World Tourism Organization estimated that 35.4 million international tourists visited sub-Saharan Africa in 2015 and spent $24.5 billion. Operations designed to attract a higher-end clientele that craves a warm shower, big meal, and cool drink at the end of the day require infrastructure and equipment, maybe including a fleet of vehicles.

There’s a danger, some hunters argue, that too many tourists will spoil the very experience they’re seeking. “The Serengeti is amazing,” says Natasha Illum-Berg, a Swedish-born professional buffalo hunter based in Tanzania, who, like Marnewecke, leads clients into the bush for “hunting experiences” and trophies. “The Ngorongoro Crater is a miracle. All these national parks that are filled with minibus after minibus of photographic tourists—it’s fantastic,” she says, noting that the minibuses also put pressure on those iconic wildlands. “But what about the other areas?” she says. “How many people have been to the area I work in, that’s 500 square miles? This year maybe 20 people.” Without trophy hunting, Illum-Berg argues, there would be no antipoaching there, no management. “I keep on saying: Give me a better idea than hunting as long as it’s sustainable.” She adds, “The big question in the end is, ‘Who’s going to pay for the party?’ ”

The earliest evidence of an elephant having been killed by human hands dates back to a blue-mud swamp in Siberia nearly 14,000 years ago. The spine of a woolly mammoth found at the confluence of the Ob and Irtysh Rivers seems to have been penetrated by a man-made weapon that left flake traces of stone inside one of the vertebrae. The tusks, we might imagine, weren’t displayed in a trophy room back at the hunter’s cave.

But hunting is more than a quid pro quo for sustenance. At some moment in our dawning consciousness, hunting became equated with status, virility, and power. Assyrian carvings from 650 B.C. depict lions being released from cages for slaughter by a chariot-riding king. The Maasai have long killed lions as a rite of passage.

With the advent of better weaponry, hunting also evolved as a sport, one with class stratifications, micro-cultures, and occasional egregious examples of waste. In records from 1760 for Snyder County, Pennsylvania, two hunters shot more than a thousand animals, including black bears, mountain lions, bobcats, wolves, foxes, bison, elk, deer, wolverines, and thousands more smaller creatures, dressing some of the animals and throwing most of the carcasses into a bonfire.

A giraffe lies crumpled on a game farm in Eastern Cape, felled by a hunter in 2010. Habitat loss and illegal poaching have made giraffes vulnerable to extinction, but in South Africa—where their numbers are increasing—hunting them is legal. Some hunters want a giraffe-skin rug to show off, others the animal itself, taxidermied upright for display in a room with a high ceiling. – PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID CHANCELLOR

Skinners in Namibia in 2011 hold up the pelt of a leopard shot by an American hedge fund manager. Leopards are elusive, and dogs helped track this one down. Namibia later banned the use of dogs because leopard numbers were falling dangerously. – PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID CHANCELLOR

Another American hired a cameraman to record his 2016 leopard hunt in Namibia. – PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID CHANCELLOR

Theologians were among the first to criticize such wasteful butchery. By the late 1700s an anonymous British hunter had penned The Sportsman’s Companion, or An Essay on Shooting, advocating fair chase and setting forth “directions to gentlemen” in the field and forest, including limiting the number of game animals killed. Those rules were expanded and refined during the next century. In 1887 Teddy Roosevelt founded the Boone and Crockett Club, a group of influential American hunters who were worried about preserving swaths of their country’s wilderness and became instrumental in building the U.S. National Park System.

In 1934 at the Norfolk Hotel in Nairobi, Kenya, some white hunters established the East African Professional Hunters’ Association. It promulgated a kind of honour code and pushed for laws and regulations, including a ban on shooting nearly all female animals and on shooting animals at water holes or near vehicles. While the members worked to conserve hunting grounds, they also eliminated huge amounts of game from the continent. Today technology has taken a quantum leap forward, with drones, video of the hunt, and high-powered rifles equipped with laser range finders.

Meanwhile “kill shots”—images of hunters posed with their dead quarry—have created viral sensations and stirred animal-rights activists and the general public to fulsome disgust. People were inflamed when Minneapolis dentist Walter Palmer hunted and killed Cecil, the popular lion from Zimbabwe, in June 2015. Controversy resurfaced in July 2017 when Cecil’s son Xanda was shot on a legal trophy hunt.

With more than half the planet’s population living in cities, our relationship with the wild has become increasingly divorced from our everyday reality. We’re now less a part of that wild world from rainforest to veld than consumers of it. Yet if we eat meat or wear and use leather products, we too are hunters of a sort.

Within the hunting community our hurry-up, have-it-all mentality—our ceaseless consumptive entitlement—has begun to manifest itself in troubling ways. Eschewing the time and cost of an African trophy hunt involving fair chase, some hunters have turned to canned hunting—the killing of often habituated animals in confined areas—baited hunting, herding animals with helicopters, or the shooting of their prey from the back of Land Cruisers. In Tanzania there have been reports of foreign hunters gunning down animals, including pregnant females, with AK-47s. In a hunting area called Loliondo that the government has leased long-term to officials from the United Arab Emirates, local Maasai have reported transport jets leaving with game of all variety, dead and alive. Social scientists writing recently in the journal Biology Letters describe a kill-and-tell generation of hunters exhibiting “show-off behaviour” by propagating their own kill shots on social media, sometimes in poses that undermine the dignity of the animal whose life they’ve just taken.

A hunter carries the pelt of a mountain lion he shot this year in southern Utah. Winter is prime hunting season because the cats are easier to track on snowy ground. Each season the state sets a hunt quota, a number determined in part by how many livestock lions killed the year before. In 2016 they killed 416 sheep and other farm animals, and during the 2016-17 season hunters took 399 lions. – PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID CHANCELLOR

Radio-collared dogs tracked this mountain lion and chased it up a tree. Using dogs allows the hunter to get a clean shot, but opponents say it’s unethical because a treed cat has no means of escape. Several states have banned hound hunting of mountain lions. – PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID CHANCELLOR

A state conservation office will inspect and tag this mountain lion before the hunter takes home the head and skin. Hunters consider stalking a mountain lion one of North America’s great challenges—it can entail hiking miles in bitter cold up steep, snowy hills in search of the animal. – PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID CHANCELLOR 

In South Africa, which has some 2,000 wild lions, canned lion hunting has grown into a more than $100 million industry, with in excess of 200 facilities raising about 6,000 of the big cats for easy killing. According to Ian Michler, a South African safari operator and photographer who investigated the canned lion industry for the 2015 documentary Blood Lions, the animals are caged and bred sometimes under terrible conditions. The young are taken from their mothers and brought to petting zoos. When male lions grow into adulthood, many are shot and killed for “hunting” fees that are much lower than the cost for a wild lion on a standard 21-day hunt ($5,000 to $15,000, versus $50,000 and up). And the trophy is virtually guaranteed. “It’s appalling,” Michler says. “It’s perverse behavior.”

Canned hunting has another deleterious effect. While hunters happily take the pelt and head, and the claws and teeth once were sold in the tourist shops of Nairobi and Zanzibar, today the bones are most in demand—shipped to Asia either to produce traditional medicines or to be repackaged as “tiger bone wine,” made from crushed bones and Chinese herbs and marketed to the upper class as a health tonic and aphrodisiac. This year South Africa authorized the export of up to 800 lion skeletons, and the worry among biologists, conservation groups, and animal-rights activists is that by legitimizing and allowing the trade, the country is spurring more demand for lion bones and more killing of the continent’s remaining 20,000 or so wild lions.

As it turns out, some of the most vocal critics of these hunting practices are hunters themselves.

“If we are not able to convince the majority of people that hunting is morally in order,” says Kai-Uwe Denker, a renowned professional hunter in Namibia, “there is no future for us.” In the face of bad publicity and bad behavior, some hunters have fallen back on an economic argument—that their presence in Africa provides jobs, that it’s a viable strategy for poverty alleviation. But Denker disagrees. “I see a very big danger in promoting only the financial side. Livelihoods, income generation, job creation—this is an additional thing. You cannot justify immoral things with money.”

When I met Denker in a valley in the Erongo Mountains, where he lives 25 miles off the grid in a house he built, he lamented the intrusion of humans on the African landscape. According to him, hunting, when done properly, brings you into “a conversation with your own death.” As we spoke in the shaded portico, the sun flashed off a blanched elephant skull set nearby, and the wind stirred the acacia, blowing away a certain noon deadness that often grips the desert. Time seemed to bend to the prehistoric. Tall and slender, wearing a torn shirt and short shorts, Denker is legendary for walking up to 40 miles in a day of hunting. He also abides by a strict set of principles that includes hunting game, such as elephant and kudu, that have unfenced free range in historic habitat and shooting only older nonreproductive animals without fixating on large trophies.

“Many of the antihunters, they criticize hunting as perverted,” Denker said. “Hunting as such is not perverted. It’s in our genes. If hunting is immoral,” he continued, “I will stop immediately. But it will be the end of nature.”

Game ranches in the U.S. feature dozens of exotic species, from zebras and yaks to scimitar-horned oryx, which are extinct in the wild. A 15-year-old novice gets field training at FTW Ranch, in Barksdale, Texas, in 2016. The boy later shot an aoudad, or Barbary sheep, which he skinned, cleaned, and prepared for meat processing. – PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID CHANCELLOR

If it pays, it stays. It was a phrase I heard over and over again, in myriad discussions about African conservation, in part to describe how money has changed the mind-set of rural populations regarding the value of big game. Too often people have seen an elephant destroy their annual crop, and some have known the pain of a lurking lion taking a child for food. Here there’s no mythologizing or fetishizing, no fund-raising around a fuzzy face: The leopard is a killer, the rhino is a ruiner. To protect themselves against the enemy, villagers often shoot and poison these intruders, without an iota of sentimentality. And yet, the argument goes, if those animals are worth money to a local community, that community will work hard to conserve and protect its assets.

This is something I witnessed firsthand. My time in the Kalahari coincided with Nyae Nyae’s annual game count, in which 50 or so San camped for three nights at various water holes, trying to account for the number of animals within 3,500 square miles of sand, bush, and baobab trees.

As fragile as it is, Nyae Nyae might be called a conditional success story, in part because the hunt quotas have been methodically monitored and increased over the years. On occasion cattle have threatened to overrun the conservancy, but the big game have returned, and the menu of animals offered to hunters includes leopard, kudu, and wildebeest, with prices set by a management committee of five members of the conservancy. Profits are shared communally: Last year each adult over 18 in Nyae Nyae was issued about $70. “We have enough,” the chief, Bobo Tsamkxao, told me as he sat in his yard in front of a disintegrating house, his wives sitting in a row among children and litter. The arrangement also requires that the professional hunter employ and train local people and contribute toward development projects such as schools and health clinics.

Nyae Nyae became Namibia’s first conservancy, locally owned and run, in 1998. Every five years the conservancy is put up for tender, with professional hunters offering bids to the San for the right to establish an on-site operation. Last year the winning bid was more than $400,000, a rich number in large part because the elephants have become so big and valuable. The professionals sell hunting packages to clients to recoup the tender offer, cover expenses, and make a profit. Many operate on more than one conservancy; some string together enough to build their own little fiefdoms.

When I was there, in September 2016, Marnewecke had just learned that he’d been outbid and would lose his Nyae Nyae operation by season’s end. “I’ll miss the San,” he said, but he had another conservancy to the north that would keep him busy. What worried him most was the Jenga-like fragility of Nyae Nyae, and that irresponsible people might come with their own selfish designs—crisscrossing the conservancy with new roads and upsetting the equilibrium.

A pair of hunters weigh a black bear shot in Maine in 2016. The bear had been baited, a practice that involves placing caches of food to draw the animals to a particular spot in the forest before the hunting season begins. In Maine the numbers of bears, which are not endangered, have been rising. Mainers recently rejected a proposal to ban baiting and hunting with dogs. – PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID CHANCELLOR

This black bear, shot by a hunter in Maine, is at a state fisheries and wildlife station, where one of its teeth will be collected. The tooth allows wildlife authorities to determine the animal’s age and reconstruct bear numbers to better manage the population. – PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID CHANCELLOR

The hunter removed the bear’s heart, which is shot through with a bullet. Many hunters pride themselves on “nose to tail” eating—consuming not just the meat but sometimes the kidneys, liver, and heart too. The heart can be pickled, fried, or slow cooked. It can be ground up for taco meat or spaghetti sauce. – PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID CHANCELLOR

While Namibia has turned wildlife management over to the local population, governments in places such as Tanzania have taken an opposite tack, directly owning and leasing hunting grounds. Critics say that no country should be in the business of selling and profiting from dead animals. When coffers run low and funds are needed, they say, hunting quotas get raised without regard for the animals’ population numbers. And in those hunting areas where funds aren’t reinvested, there’s no wildlife left to hunt. That could explain how 40 percent of Tanzania’s designated hunting areas have been emptied of game animals during recent decades. A promotional video that surfaced in 2014 shows a hunting company, Green Mile Safari, guiding hunters from the United Arab Emirates on a disturbing shooting party. The minister of tourism and natural resources said the party violated a host of laws by, among other things, firing automatic weapons, hunting female and young animals, and allowing a minor to hunt. The government banned Green Mile from conducting hunts in Tanzania in 2014 but reissued the company’s license last year, leading to accusations of corruption. No arrests were made, and Green Mile claims that the guide was at fault.

In the Selous Game Reserve ecosystem, a prized trophy hunting destination, aerial surveys estimate the elephant population at some 15,000, down from perhaps 50,000 as recently as 2009. “Why has the Selous been such a killing field?” says Katarzyna Nowak, a conservation scientist associated with the University of the Free State, Qwaqwa, in South Africa. “If hunters are coming in from all around the world, and you’re really pumping money earned from trophies back into the Selous for conservation and antipoaching, where have all the elephants gone?”

Craig Packer sees the conservation of African wildlife in practical terms: If hunters were shooting lions “for a million dollars and returning a million per lion directly into management, they would be on solid ground. But lions are shot for tens of thousands of dollars, and very little of that money goes back to conservation.” With two billion dollars a year we could save and protect the wildlife in Africa’s national parks, Packer says. But that would have to come from international partners such as the World Bank, eco-philanthropists, and nongovernmental organizations.

RISE OF THE WHITE RHINOS Nearly extinct in South Africa a century ago, southern white rhinos rebounded thanks to conservation efforts, limited trophy hunting, and the harvesting of horns, which regrow. But with a recent surge in poaching, those rebounding numbers are levelling off. White rhinos are considered “near threatened”—they could face a high risk of extinction if conservation came to a halt. – MONICA SERRANO, NGM STAFF; MEG ROOSEVELT – MICHAEL KNIGHT AND RICHARD EMSLIE, IUCN SSC AFRICAN RHINO SPECIALIST GROUP 

Some trophy hunters say it’s not fair to blame them. Make of their sport what you will, they don’t set the fees or determine the quotas. And they can’t control endemic corruption in some countries, even if they indirectly feed it. Some claim to share the concerns of environmentalists who see collapsing habitats and dwindling populations. Kevin Reid, a big-game ranch owner in Texas, says he raises endangered African species not only for the sport of trophy hunters but also to create “a seed vault of animals,” including oryx and white rhinos, to help rewild Africa once its problems have been sorted. “We’re trying to reverse extinction,” Reid says. In the never ending ironies of the issue, though, the near extinction of African elephants, rhinos, and lions comes today courtesy of the barrel of a gun.

Perhaps, then, it boils down to another set of questions: In light of who we’ve become as a species, what new form has nature taken, and what new rules might be practiced there? Might we owe it to the natural world, after bunging it up so badly, to act differently—less acquisitively, more generously—toward it? Might it now be time to stop killing the dwindling herds for sport and display? Or, perhaps more difficult to ponder: Will these trophies be all we have left someday, tokens of a wild nature we once knew?

Hunters bring the first white-tailed deer of the regular firearms hunting season to a market in Jerome, Michigan. Before the deer are butchered, some will be hung along a “buck pole” to see who bagged the largest animal. Unlike trophy hunting in Africa, where big game expeditions cost tens of thousands of dollars, deer hunting in the U.S. is pursued widely. In Michigan alone, nearly 600,000 people hunt deer.

On the 12th day of the elephant hunt in Nyae Nyae, in the rising heat of the day, Dam, the tracker, picked up the marks of three bulls moving together. Once Marnewecke and his client saw the elephants from a mile away, they knew they were big and approached them from downwind so as not to be detected. Two of the bulls were in front of them, but the largest and oldest stood apart and behind. So they manoeuvred out around the others and came up on the third as he began to walk toward a clump of brush. The client crouched low on one side as the old bull—sagging and on his sixth molars, half ground down already, which means he was well on in the last season of his life—unwittingly ate on the other side.

Would killing an old bull like this one help save all those other elephants in Nyae Nyae?

Old bulls, says Caitlin O’Connell, a biologist and elephant researcher focused on how the animals communicate, are a font of wisdom, deciding when and where the herd will move in search of water, imposing an order on pachyderm society. “Contrary to myth, elephant bulls are very social creatures,” she says. “They move in groups of up to 15, and they maintain a strict hierarchy. The older bulls exert a very important regulatory impact on the herd and an emotional-social influence on the younger bulls.” Younger bulls in musth, a heightened state of aggression during which testosterone levels can be 10 times as high as normal, will be more likely to fight each other when an older bull is absent.

At 15 yards, the client could see every wrinkle draping the elephant. He aimed his 12-pound double rifle with its hand-engraved silver stock and fired directly at the heart. The bull turned and began to run, 30 yards before it fell. The client put one more shot in the brain, and it was done. The tusks weighed out at more than 70 pounds each. Within six hours the carcass had been stripped by the San, who took roughly three tons of meat for their families.

Two days later the hunting party found another big bull. The client fired a shot, bringing it down—but then, as another bull gave chase, he and Marnewecke ran for at least half a mile before the elephant lost interest in them. Eventually the process repeated: the flensing of the skin, the stripping of the bone, the feeding of families. With that elephant, Marnewecke’s quota for the year was filled. His client flew home; the tusks of the two elephants would follow, destined for his trophy room back in America.

I thought about those tusks in the weeks that followed, possessions now, totems of a fraught accomplishment. They were all that was left of two 15,000-pound sentient beings. Which brought me to Bobo Tsamkxao, the San chief, and his wives and children, and how they and others in the community would eat from those animals. And how they would receive money, at least indirectly, from those animals as well. But something still seemed askew: a paying client killing a vulnerable animal to feed the San or conserve Nyae Nyae’s land. Even if hunting is in our genes, as Denker said, the essential question remained: Was it moral to kill such an imperilled creature at this moment in our history?

After the hunters had packed up, the herds—sometimes called a “parade” of elephants, or even a “memory” of elephants—searched for water in temporary peace, unaware that another season would bring another group of hunters. We must imagine: Memories of elephants wandering all that contested space, some already with price tags on their head, there for us as things of wonder.

Therapy dog mistaken for wolf shot to death by hunter

http://bc.ctvnews.ca/therapy-dog-mistaken-for-wolf-shot-to-death-by-hunter-1.3596900#_gus&_gucid=&_gup=Facebook&_gsc=ACPPBWN

Darcy MathesonSenior Digital Producer, CTV Vancouver

Published Tuesday, September 19, 2017 2:01PM PDT 

Last Updated Tuesday, September 19, 2017 3:38PM PDT

A therapy dog that worked with people with autism and PTSD was shot to death by a hunter who mistakenly believed the pet was a wild animal.

Valeria Calderoni, founder of Canine Valley rehabilitation centre in Squamish, B.C. says Kaoru was shot at point blank range while she was out with a trainer and nine dogs on their regular Monday morning hike north of the city.

They were putting leashes back onto the dogs when she heard a bang so loud that she instinctually crouched down.

That’s when she saw her four-year-old pup had been hit by a bullet, just three metres away from her. The distraught owner tried to save her dog but the injuries were too grave.

“There was a huge amount of blood. I just told her to ‘let go’ and she died,” she said.

“This man took my dog’s life because he thought she was a wolf. We could have died.”

Kaoru was a Tamaskan dog, a rare Finnish breed. The working dog was specifically bred to look like a wolf by mixing the Siberian husky, Alaskan malamute and German shepherd breeds, according to the website Dog Breed Plus.

The BC Conservation Service has launched a full investigation into what it calls a “very unfortunate situation.”

Sgt. Simon Gravel said the shooter is claiming misidentification of the species. He was hunting for deer on Crown land but “believed the animal was a wolf.”

While deer hunting is allowed in the area, wolf hunting is not, Gravel added.

squamish dog shot by hunter

Calderoni says she frequently hikes in the region with children, and believes that the hunter could have easily hit one of them instead.

“Could you imagine if a child had to experience that? Or worse, if he had hit a child?” she said.

Kaoru worked as an emotional therapy dog whose biggest talent was working to calm children with autism.

“These beautiful kids have episodes and would sometimes be rough with her, but Kaoru was amazing and followed her training perfectly. She would squint her eyes, lay down, and let out a sigh, the kids then would slowly begin to calm down as their hands crunched tightly on Kaoru’s fur,” she said.

In a region commonly used by hunters, dog walkers, mountain bikers and hikers alike, conservation officials say the dog’s death serves as an important reminder for anyone using the backcountry.

“Always be very visible when you walk in the forest, knowing it’s hunting season,” Gravel told CTV Vancouver.

“It’s also important for hunters to be 100 per cent sure of their target before they shoot an animal.”

Now grieving her pet, Calderoni said she is planning on starting an online campaign to have hunting banned in the area.

“This is a huge tragedy,” she said. “Something good should come of Kaoru’s death.”

The hunter is cooperating with its investigation.

 

Hunting seasons popping up like spring mushrooms

http://www.nevadadailymail.com/story/2440561.html

Daniel Smith, Seymour, Holds his first teal of the 2016 season while hunting at the Schell-Osage Conservation Area.
Ken White | Special to the Daily Mail

Opening day of the small migrating birds season started Friday. As usual, some cool nights have nudged the doves to pack up and head south.

“I have seen more doves this year than in a long time,” said Jim Lawson, a 67-year-old Missouri dove hunter.

“In my 25 years of hunting those fast flying birds, I don’t remember seeing so many birds before opening day, but it seems we always get some cool nights just before the season opener on September 1 and the birds aren’t around too long. Last year I had a good opening day; after that they got wise and you couldn’t get close to them.”

Lawson like a lot of other dove hunters, who also like to fish, hunts near a farm pond or utilizes small water holes. So when the birds aren’t flying, he can at least go fishing.

“Several times last year, I was able to shoot some doves and catch a few fish as well,” said Lawson

Another plus of the early dove season is that you can locate where the blue wing teal are working, so on opening day (Sept. 9) of the early teal season, you have an idea where they are or aren’t. Last year Lawson said he even added a snipe to the teal he bagged.

Waterfowl officials are predicting another good flight of teal that will be heading south this year. Already, there are a sizable number of these small ducks in the state. The teal season that opens Sept. 9 will run through Sept. 24. with a daily limit of six teal and possession limit after opening day of 18.

Lawson was scouting for dove last week and saw several teal as well as some wood ducks. Hunters will need to be sure they are shooting at teal and not “woodies.”

Teal hunters will have from sunrise to sunset to get their limit of a half-dozen teal this season and, in most of the state the water and food conditions are good. Some places, however, including the Schell-Osage Wildlife Area, have too much water at present.

One observer said it looks more like Truman Lake instead of Schell. It remains to be seen what effect the high water will have by the time the regular duck season opens later, but right now there are only a few teal in the area.

A boatload of successful teal hunters pulls into short after an opening day hunt 2016 at Schell-Osage Conservation Area. Things will be different for the opening day, Sept. 1 as the lake is very high and few teal on using the area.
Ken White | Special to the Daily Mail

As usual, both snipe and rail season also started on Friday.

There are a lot fewer hunters out for these two migrants. It’s a big difference between a rail and snipe. The rail is a slow flying small bird that can be found in weedy marshes. It has a short flight and often by the time a hunter shoots, the bird has already dropped back into the marsh.

Hunting them by wading in knee-deep water with mosquitoes buzzing around, looking for a bird the size of a common blackbird with the temperatures hovering near 90 degrees doesn’t appeal to most hunters. The daily limit on these small birds is 25 with the possession limit 75 after opening day.

The snipe, yes, there is such a bird, is a much different target than the rail. This fast flying bird with a long beak, is a challenge similar to the dove. It is usually found near the shore of ponds or small lakes looking for food. The snipe season opened Friday and will run through Dec. 16, with a daily limit of eight birds.

Although fishing is still going strong, hunting seasons will be popping up like spring mushrooms. As always, here in Missouri, we have a lot to look forward to in our outdoors.