Driven hunts in the mountains of Mansehra, Pakistan
“Don’t get upset, just watch and wonder” was the motto of this hunting trip to the northern part of the “Land of the Pure”: Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province. An unfamiliar culture, rare hunting opportunities, and foreign flora and fauna awaited us – newbie and experienced traveler alike.
I take a scheduled flight via Frankfurt and Istanbul to Islamabad. From there, I travel to Mansehra, in Pakistan’s far north, in an off-road vehicle. Not since my ISAF mission in Afghanistan – over ten years ago now – have I been so far east. Omnipresent gray, hectic traffic, bustling life on the streets, unfamiliar smells, lots of small stores, groups of men sitting together, a few fully-veiled women scurrying around, the adhan (Muslim call to prayer) blaring from dozens of loudspeakers, chatter… You get sunburnt at lunchtime and catch a cold in the evening because of the wind and the smog caused by burning plastic waste. Quite something to have seen, smelled, tasted, and wondered about.
We stay in a private camp in the mountains above the city. Here we have a magnificent view, small rooms with clean shapeis (bunk beds) – we had been asked to each bring a sleeping bag –, a bathroom with (mostly) hot water, and a large common room.
Something that’s not always the case: Our travel group harmonizes, we laugh a lot and sit together for a long time every evening, talking about life and business, telling jokes, reminiscing about past hunting days, and having a drink or two. According to local Islamic law, alcohol and cigarettes are makruh (frowned upon) – difficult and expensive to obtain, but not completely forbidden.
What we notice straight away: The food is first-class and the camp staff are very helpful. The security measures initially make us suspicious, but nothing bad happens to us. One reason for that: The five men, armed with pump guns, who are posted in and around the camp, one of them always directly in front of our accommodations.
The guards and the local police – who always accompany us – consider the situation to be manageable and the hunt to be useful for the long-suffering local population, but they complain about the poor food and accommodations in the camp. They’re no support for hunting: hardly recognizing the game animals, talking too much, and always busy with their cellphones. However, they are helpful when it comes to keeping the locals away from the stands.
Each hunt usually proceeds in the same way: The leader Ali Shah (39) calls us to breakfast at 8:00 a.m., at 9.00 a.m. we set off for the hunting grounds, which takes a good hour. In a convoy of five vehicles, we travel over hill and dale, through villages, and across small rivers. Our driver Safar Han (50) does a good job – driving “virtually without traffic rules” is a real skill. I enjoy watching the landscape, the sprawling fields, the day laborers at work, the roadside shops. It’s interesting to discover the specializations they have here. Our hunting destinations are mountain slopes and high-altitude fields, some very remote, some close to towns. According to the organizer, when pre-scouting took place here weeks ago, the game tracks and damage were promising.
There are usually three driven hunts per day, two in the morning (there and back), then a short lunch break, then a change of location for the afternoon hunt.
To reach your stand, you have to climb the slopes. It is rarely dizzying, but steep nonetheless. A hiking stick is essential, as are good shoes, sure-footedness, a small rucksack, and a light rifle with a tight-fitting strap. The views and the air out here are wonderful, and the sparse landscape has unfamiliar flora and fauna to offer.
We settle in and wait. The air is fresh and clear, but it can get hot, up to 29 °C during the day. Depending on where you are, the ground could be gravel and rock, or a meadow of grass and satana (green bush). Since the turn of the millennium, the government has reforested the area with pine trees, fortunately without creating a monoculture. It is interesting to see these differences. What is completely new to us: Pakistan’s bird life. The flight behavior of the native rufous treepie (Dendrocitta vagabunda) is especially fascinating to observe.
Before setting off, it is advisable to wear orange clothing and hang a “colored warning sign” high up in the bushes. Safety first!
Mentally, you go through the upcoming variables and prepare yourself for possible routes. Meanwhile, the beaters circle the hunters’ stands and press their courses evenly and orderly in long lines of up to 40 men. Theoretically, you could join them as a walk-through hunter, but the terrain is usually too steep and too confusing. Even in the army, trained mountain fighters can hardly manage this with a rifle at the ready. And a hunter must use the very short time window to place an ethical shot… Nevertheless, I tried it once and learned a lot (“know your limits”).
With the battle cry “He-La, He-La, Heee-Laaa…”, the rhythmic shaking of PET bottles filled with stones, and their pack of dogs, the beaters do a good job every time they pass through. You can easily recognize them by their orange high-visibility vests and their lance-like poles; you can hear the dogs panting or barking. However, the grass can be high, and trees and undergrowth sometimes obscure your view. You need to clearly identify your target and then act decisively. Not an easy task. I’m proud of myself, having fired a total of eight shots on this trip, all of which hit their target cleanly. Every shot, every hit is loudly cheered by the beaters and spectators.
Ah, the locals: No matter how far up the mountain you are, it usually doesn’t take long for some of them to spot you and sit down nearby to watch the spectacle. You can understand why: There are hardly any attractions in the villages, even if the smartphone has become ubiquitous. And now we “funny men” come along and shoot the pigs that cause so much damage to their crops, of course you want to see that. Sometimes, we have 20 spectators commenting on everything. As long as they sit behind us at a distance, it’s okay, but it gets more difficult when they appear in the middle of the driven hunt, twice even with their sheep and goats. So we need to be double cautious.
The core team of beaters are farmers from the surrounding area. They receive a small extra income from Ali Shah throughout the year and are then available on call. They are simple but likeable people, lean and scarred by life here. They move quickly and securely through the mountains, even at an advanced age.
Ali Aksahr (57) is a kind of foreman. He coordinates the beaters and allocates the stands. Always smiling, he radiates confidence and experience. Like the other locals, he can “read the mountain”. He knows where to put his foot two or three steps in advance, moving like a good chess player. I’m getting better at this day by day, but I still look down too often. It quickly becomes clear to everyone: the mountain, loose stones, deeper holes overgrown with grasses, and crumbling slopes are the real dangers. The game animals rarely pose a risk. Every hunt begins with the “starting shot” from Ali’s old rifle.
Safar (63) is probably the oldest member of the home team. He is responsible for preparing the trophies. He is one of the few members of the team who touches a pig with his hands. Safar is an interesting fellow, speaks some German and always has his kulari (long-handled axe) with him.
The main game animal is wild boar. One hare, jackal, or fox per hunter is also allowed. Gazelles or hyenas may not be hunted under any circumstances. Wolf, reed cat, mongoose, and marten must also be spared. Twice, I see a mongoose that startles at the edge of the driven hunt. I spare a jackal on the fourth day. Markhor and ibex are much higher up the mountain, so unfortunately we don’t get to see them.
The Indian boar (Sus scrofa cristatus), also known as the Moupin pig, is a subspecies of wild boar native to India and surrounding countries. It differs from its European counterpart primarily by having a high crest of bristles running from its head along its back, a larger and straighter skull with sharper features and smaller, more pointed ears, a significantly leaner build, and smaller tusks. It also lacks an undercoat.
The dogs accompany us every day. They are more of a “wild pack” than an organized team. Most are mongrels, but you can also spot herding dogs and English bull terriers. All of them are tough, loyal, do not bother hunters, and take on wild boar in the undergrowth. One dog is injured by a boar; we help to treat him with three long rows of stitches. Two dogs cannot be found after the drive; a third was probably stolen by villagers.
The final hunt, the grand finale: the drive takes place in a hilly landscape. Low vegetation and wide, open areas with fresh tracks promise a good view. I have a great spot and can see up to 130 meters in all directions. The catch: I can only take limited shots. Hamsa and his team are standing in a pathway just 100 meters from me, Safar Han is praying in the middle of the bushes, a fellow hunter is standing concealed behind a tree, and a mule is grazing to the side. I listen and wait. The drive is about to begin. Suddenly, a large sow moves out of the undergrowth and pauses, alone and far ahead of the action. I take aim and let fly. At that very moment, the sow runs off and is hit a bit too far back. My two follow-up shots also hit, but they were difficult to place. After all, there are people everywhere.
With a great deal of effort – and support from Ruediger – we track the trail of blood and find that the sow I shot died after running about 15 meters.
The “official result” of all hunting days: 62 sows, 8 boars of which 4 are large specimens. Ruediger has bagged the two biggest tusk trophies: 23.5 cm long, approx. 8 years old and 18.2 cm, approx. 6 years old. For comparison: Lengths above 18 cm can be entered in Rowland Ward’s Records of Big Game.
After nine days, we are treated to a touching farewell ceremony – with an obligatory tip – and leave the camp around midnight. We are driven to the airport where we catch our plane, which is fully booked.
In retrospect: It was a fascinating hunting trip, ideal for adventurers who have already done some traveling. What is on offer is truly unique. It was “relatively safe”, gave us new impressions, and introduced us to friendly people. We encountered zero hostility directed towards us.
The tasty food was prepared with care, the accommodations were clean, a high number of kills and massive trophies were likely… And where else could you get to know people and wildlife so different from those at home? In this respect, every day was a highlight.