Animals of Africa - big kudu. Greater kudu: the life of a horned antelope How long does a kudu live?

“We have been tracking large kudu antelopes for ten days now, and I have never seen an adult male. There were only three days left because the rains were coming from the south, from Rhodesia, and in order not to get stuck here, we had to get at least as far as Khandeni before they started.” Ernest Hemingway. "Green Hills of Africa"

Shaking as the Cruiser climbed up the broken serpentine road, I was overcome by the same thoughts... The short hunt was already nearing its end. Unlike old Ham, I had a day less to spare, and I never even had time to really see this beautiful, majestic animal. Kudu, one of the largest antelopes in Africa, second in size only to the massive eland, weighing almost a ton, has always been a coveted trophy for hunters. An elegant head with a thin white line connecting the eyes and the same white spot near the lips is crowned with huge, meter long, dark, sharp horns twisted in a spiral. A muscular neck with a fringe of white strands of hair almost down to the legs extends into a sinewy body hidden under a gray, short-haired hide. A long white stripe, starting from the brown mane on the steep withers of the animal, like a stroke of paint, runs along the entire ridge, flowing in uneven white streaks along the lean sides. The alert thin legs of the antelope are always ready with a swift leap to carry their owner away from danger in a split second. Yes, this is the animal that every hunter dreams of...

Quietly purring with a diesel engine, the jeep awkwardly rolled over piles of boulders protruding from the road corroded by heavy rains. Jason, clinging to the Toyota steering wheel with both hands in the endless shaking, stubbornly steered forward. We overcame another steep climb and, turning the bend, set out to storm the next one... With apprehension, I glanced out of the window at the gorge scattering in scattered stone screes below. No barriers or restrictions.

The pickup truck dashingly maneuvered between deep ruts some half a meter from the abyss. Figuring that if something happened, I wouldn’t even have time to open the door before the car plunged into the abyss, I tried not to think about the bad, turning my attention to the nature around me. And she was truly beautiful! The higher we climbed up the wide range of mountains that divided the bush stretching for kilometers around into two halves, the more majestic the endless Eastern Cape appeared before us South Africa! The green valleys cut by hills with occasional mirrored ponds were still slightly covered by a white blanket of fog receding under the rays of the recently risen sun.

Sunny, dewy pastures with sparse spreading trees alternated with dense thickets of low-growing fynbos. The azure blue of the sky with cumulus clouds slowly floating across it was clean and transparent.

Suddenly I was distracted by some movement ahead. Several blesboks, the most common breed of antelope in the bush, slowly emerged from behind the crest of the hill, attracted by the noise of the car. The animals were slightly larger in size European roe deer, brown, with a red tint, with white stockings on the legs and a belly of the same color. Staring at us with their angular muzzles with a large frontal white mark stretching from the very nose to the base of small horns spread out like a fork, these antelopes, not shining with intelligence, allowed us to approach about eighty meters.

Finally deciding that it was time to save themselves, they rushed about on the slope, not at all sure which direction to run in, and only when we caught up with them at a distance of fifty meters, the animals, bending their massive heads to the ground, fell into a rapid quarry . Having run away to a nearby hill, they slowed down, sometimes nodding their heads in a funny way, sometimes falling deeply on their hind legs - like a children's rocking horse. Soon the antelopes stopped at the top and looked back at us. Now they were no further than one hundred and fifty meters away - the distance of a confident rifle shot. “Stupid animals (stupid animals),” Jason summed up, shaking his head, and pressed the gas pedal harder.

Smiling, I remembered my first African trophy, which, often for many hunters, was a blesbok.

This happened on the first day of the hunt: having quietly climbed a hill, beyond which the next ridge of hills began through an overgrown ravine, we hid behind the maquis bushes and spent a long time searching the surrounding area with binoculars in search of kudu. But they were nowhere to be found, only a herd of sandy-colored impalas and black and white zebras grazing peacefully in the bushes nearby. We turned back to the car, making a small circle through a valley tightly overgrown with low trees. Suddenly Zolo pulled us back, pointing to an island of acacias. Taking a closer look, Jason and I saw a good male blesbok next to the bushes, nibbling on the sparse vegetation on the parched slope. It was decided to try to take it. Moving back a little, we went down lower to the stream babbling in the ravine, so as to be sure to go into the wind. Bent down, we carefully moved towards the beast. According to our calculations, it was already close to the bull when some movement began in the bushes about a hundred meters from us, and soon several antelopes, also blesboks, ran out from there, looking around cautiously.

Pretending to be fancy trees, we walked and froze. Antelopes, flashing white and brown spots among the heather thickets, quickly disappeared into the bush. The last of them stopped in the clearing and looked at us. Whispering that this bull is not worse than that, which we had stolen, Jason, with a practiced movement, quickly spread his tripod... In the morning silence, a shot dryly cracked and the blesbok, cut down by a bullet, fell to the ground.

Rare for these places, black wildebeests, or as they are also called “African clowns,” comically bucking their white tail panicles, spun in place for a long time, shaking their maned heads with short horns curved in a steep arc to the sides. Having finished their strange dance, they joined the herd of blesboks rushing past at breakneck speed - ordinary brown and completely white. And this whole motley crowd flowed in an endless stream from one hill to another, stopping briefly to look back at the troublemakers of their peace...

After seeing plenty of antelope, we passed the plateau and drove down to the foot of the hills, where in a ravine near a small pond Jason hoped to catch kudu coming to drink. The car was prudently left a kilometer from the intended hunting location. There was practically no wind, and only a cloud of talc released from the smoke smoker, lazily floating in the air, told us the right direction to approach. Carefully stepping on the dead wood spreading along the ground and the scatterings of small stones crunching under our feet, we slowly moved forward. In the morning silence, interrupted only by the occasional whistle of birds, every unsuccessful step echoed throughout the area. At such moments, everything inside shuddered, contracted, and I had to think three times about where it would be better to place my foot next, so as not to make noise again. And only the sun shining brightly at our backs was our helper today. Soon, from Jason’s emotional gestures, constantly reminding me to be extremely careful, I guessed that we were already close to the goal. Behind a low sandy hillock, overgrown with stocky, squat cacti, one could discern a ravine that went up on the other side with a sloping ridge. Apparently, our pond was somewhere below us... Suddenly, to the left, from the valley emerging from the branch of the ravine, the hoarse, abrupt barking of baboons was heard. We stopped, wondering if the monkeys were making noise, figuring something out among themselves, or if they raised the alarm when they noticed us. We all knew that these sounds would make the kudu now at the watering hole wary or even go into the bush. Cursing “baboons” through clenched teeth, we waited for about five minutes. Then slowly, step by step, they approached the embankment and, craning their necks, looked down...

Our slope descended with dense bushes of erika, approaching close to a small pond with muddy muddy water. The opposite open sandy shore of the pond was dotted with tracks of antelopes, but the animals themselves were not visible nearby.

Taking up our binoculars, we began to meticulously search yard by yard. Five, ten minutes - no one. It seemed that all living things in the area had died out, and this contrasted so sharply with the zoo that we saw on the top of the mountain... I remembered Jason’s recent words, when another attempt to catch a kudu failed: “This antelope is the most careful and cunning of all I have seen . Dissolving like a ghost at the slightest sign of danger. Getting it is a real “challenge” for the hunter.” Sighing heavily, he turned towards the car. But then Zolo, still looking at the bush through his massive binoculars, tutted something excitedly at his scythe.

PH looked in the same direction as the tracker, and the sour expression on his face was replaced by a cheerful smile. I also grabbed my Leupold. To the right of the pond, on the opposite slope, four female kudu were grazing in the shade of stunted trees! Long-legged, with white stripes on gray sides, with small heads on high necks. Antelopes, tearing leaves from bushes and nibbling grass, slowly wandered up along the ravine. “The bull, the good bull, is coming after them,” Jason whispered excitedly. But no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find where. “Where is he, Jason?” “DimItry, I don’t see him now either, he’s somewhere out there, in the dense thickets below, following the females. We won’t be able to take him from this place; we need to quickly go to the right to get between him and the cows.” Bending down, we dived over a hillock and, under its cover, silently moved a hundred meters to the right. Peeking out from behind the hill again, we spent a long time scanning the lowland with binoculars. There are females - they graze, almost on the contrary, on the open lawn. But the bull is not visible. Eh, it’s a pity that from our position we can’t see the bottom of the ravine, because a cautious animal can pass right there! Noticing a large acacia bush ahead, successfully shielding us from the antelopes, we, bent double, almost crawled to it on our hands and knees. Now there was no more than seventy meters left to the opposite slope, and the stream was clearly visible as a winding snake along the bottom of the ravine. The main thing now is not to blink the kudu’s eyes and pray that he doesn’t turn back! Jason set up his tripod, and, turning the sight to minimum, I took the hard drive off the safety...

In an ambush, time always drags infinitely slowly... The sun, having risen high in the sky, was already hot. It became hot in the jacket I was still wearing in the morning cool, but there was no way to take it off. Frozen with a carbine in my shoulder, I shot through my sights all the clearings, clearings, windows between the trees where a kudu could appear. But he seemed to have disappeared into the ground. Our females have gone far up. A little more, and they will climb the hill, from where we will be clearly visible. Where, where are you, where are you?! Where have you gone?!

The eye caught a slight movement of foliage in the dense crown of a spreading tree on the other side of the ravine. Seized by this fleeting movement, I clung to the eyepiece of the sight. Horns! Long, spiral-shaped, with thick, rough bases! Kudu! The excitement made my heart beat wildly in my chest! I furtively pointed towards the trees to Jason. “Yes, yes, this is our bull!” - PH confirmed in a confused whisper. The horns began to move, floated over the bushes and, reaching for an acacia branch, a gray kudu head with a white stripe on the bridge of its nose emerged from the thickets. The bull feasted on the lush green leaves, nimbly running his tongue around the sharp white thorns.

I took aim at the only place that was fatal to the beast that I could see - where the head meets the neck. Jason sat down, putting his shoulder under my right elbow, and the crosshair of the sight, which had previously been floating on the gray skin of the kudu, froze on the target, as if drawn on it. It was convenient to shoot. I took a deep breath, but only my finger began to press on the trigger, and the kudu, having finished plucking leaves from one branch, turned to another. I took aim again, but the bull, shaking its head, moved slightly to the side, and a small piece of its neck, previously accessible to me, disappeared behind the tangle of branches. This was repeated for about five minutes. I tried in vain to catch the moment when the kudu's neck, emerging from behind a branch, would freeze while its owner chewed the leaves, but I could not succeed. Gradually, I began to get tired of the constant state of maximum concentration - gathering my nerves, my breath, all my strength into a fist. shooting training, you had to squeeze out a quick, accurate shot as soon as the right moment presented itself. And I started to lose confidence in whether I could make this shot. Too high a price was at stake: as soon as the bullet had to lie a few centimeters to the side, there would have been a miss, or, even worse, a wounded wounded... The excitement that came from such thoughts began to knock like hammers on the temples, as if from strong thirst, dried up in throat, and a trickle of sweat ran down my cheek...

Apparently having eaten, the kudu moved into the shade of the trees. Now I couldn't even see his head. Only long dark horns, like antennas, stuck out from the thickets. Fifteen minutes passed in agonizing anticipation... We could not do anything: neither shoot nor try to approach - the beast was too close to us. But I had already seen the outcome of this hunt: the females who had climbed up the hill, huddled together, were carefully watching us. One of them twitched her ears in alarm and ran down the slope. The others, after a little hesitation, followed her example. The stones, touched by the hooves of the antelopes, rolled and rattled loudly, falling from the slope into the ravine. The kudu's horns rose above the bushes and turned in that direction. The bull became wary.

Having frozen for a moment, its horns, plowing the green-yellow sea of ​​bush, turned towards the bottom of the ravine, heavily overgrown with tall bushes. “Well, that’s all,” I thought, as I aimed at the elusive trophy. Kudu sensed danger and is now retreating. A cunning animal, wise over the years, will never go out onto the open slope, but will quietly leave in the strongest place, without showing itself. Episodes of past unsuccessful hunts flashed before me, to which another one was supposed to be added today. It began to seem to me that the kudu was surrounded by some kind of invisible aura of invulnerability, that our attempts to steal it were a waste of time, a useless exercise, doomed to failure in advance. And that, perhaps, I, precisely I, am not destined to get at this beast, which never makes mistakes...

But he still did it! Being too lazy to go down to the very bottom of the ravine littered with sage grass, in order to be sure to remain unnoticed, the bull slowly swam out into a small gap between the trees on a steep sandy slope. How majestic and beautiful he was! Turning his back to me, he stopped and glanced at the hill along which the females had run a few minutes earlier. Without thinking, I quickly fired. Kudu jumped up and with a loud crash, breaking the bushes, rushed straight up the slope. Again I saw only the tops of his horns flashing among the trees. But then they slowed down, stopped, staggered... and fell into the bush. A ringing silence hung in the air, in which I heard only the booming beat of my heart. Still keeping an eye on the antelope's possible escape routes, I realized that the hunt was over.

• Class: Mammalia Linnaeus, 1758 = Mammals
• Infraclass: Eutheria, Placentalia Gill, 1872 = Placentals, higher animals
• Superorder: Ungulata = Ungulates
• Order: Artiodactyla Owen, 1848= Artiodactyls, artiodactyls
• Suborder: Ruminantia Scopoli, 1777 = Ruminants
• Family: Bovidae (Cavicornia) Gray, 1821 = Bovids
• Genus: Tragelaphus Blainville, 1816 = Woodland antelope

Greater kudu - Tragelaphus strepsiceros- distributed from Central and Eastern to Southern Africa. Kudu live in small groups, rarely alone on wooded hills. They feed on grass and tree leaves. In adult individuals, the height at the withers is 1.3-1.5 m, the body length is up to 245 cm, and the weight is more than 300 kg. Females are smaller than males. Coloration ranges from reddish-gray to bluish-gray with white stripes on the sides. The males of these antelopes are very beautiful. They have brightly visible white stripes running along their reddish-brown body, and their heads are decorated with long massive horns, curved in the shape of a corkscrew - their length is on average 1 m (the record is 1.8 m), females are hornless. Along the underside of the neck from the throat to the belly there is a dewlap of long hair, and on the sides there are vertical white stripes.

KUDU BIG is a slender, large (up to 1.5 m high at the withers) antelope, delicate bluish or yellowish-gray in color, with narrow white transverse stripes on the sides, with a small mane and a dewlap of hard, elongated hair on the throat. The main decoration of the large kudu is its horns, twisted in a wide free spiral and reaching more than 1.5 m in length. Females, like other representatives of the genus, do not have horns.

The huge range of this antelope covers the Eastern, Southern and partially Central Africa, however, it is quite rare in most areas. In general, the big kudu is not one of those antelopes that you can often find.

It prefers hilly and mountainous terrain with rocky soil, but also lives on the plain. Everywhere it stays very secretive. An indispensable condition for his life - dense thickets bushes. The second condition is accessible watering holes, when these dry up during the dry season, the great kudu makes long-distance migrations. It tolerates human agricultural activities much more easily and, being an excellent jumper, overcomes fences 2-2.5 m high without much effort.

Usually kudu lives in small herds of 6-10 (occasionally 30-40) heads. The herd consists of females with calves and young, immature males. Before the rut, old bulls live alone or form groups of 5-6 individuals. Greater kudu graze at night or in the morning and evening hours. The watering hole is scheduled for the same time. The food consists almost exclusively of leaves of various shrubs, and only in dry periods do animals eat bulbs and rhizomes. There is no information about marking individual areas to which kudu is very attached, although there are observations that old males sometimes rub their cheeks on the bark of trees or on stones. It is possible that this is due to the leaving of odorous marks. It is also possible that the role of “claim posts” is played by shrubs broken by horns, which are often found in kudu habitats.

During mating season, male greater kudu join herds of females. At this time, intense rivalry arises between males, manifested in frequent fights. It is not uncommon for two old males to become so locked in their spiral horns that they can no longer free themselves. The threat pose of the great kudu is peculiar: the animal stands sideways to the approaching enemy, lowering its head low and arching its back. If the enemy tries to get around him, the antelope turns sideways towards him again. However, when attacking, the male always changes position and turns his horns towards the opponent.

Mating is also preceded by a special ceremony. The male, approaching the female, takes an impressive pose: he turns sideways to her with his head held high, facing the the opposite side. If the female is not in the mood to accept courtship, she cools the male's ardor with a strong blow to the side. Otherwise, she runs away, provoking pursuit, during which the male, while running, puts her head and neck or one of the horns on her back and tries to stop her. When this fails, the male tries to bend the female’s neck to the ground with his neck.

Pregnancy in the greater kudu lasts 7-8 months; Cubs are usually born during the rainy season, but in some places, such as Zambia and Southern Rhodesia, newborns are seen throughout the year. A newborn kudu hides in a secluded place where the mother comes to feed him. When alarmed, the kudu's voice is a dull, distantly audible bark, similar to a cough. Among the predators, the large kudu is attacked by lions, leopards, and hyena dogs. Young and females often fall prey to cheetahs. The great kudu, with its striking horns, has always been the most coveted trophy of European and American sport hunters.

KUDU
WHERE BIG(Tragelaphus strepsiceros) This is a slender, large (up to 1.5 m high at the withers) antelope, delicate bluish or yellowish-gray in color, with narrow white transverse stripes on the sides, with a small mane and a dewlap of hard, elongated hair on the throat. The main decoration of the large kudu is its horns, twisted in a wide free spiral and reaching more than 1.5 m in length. Females, like other representatives of the genus, do not have horns.

The huge range of this antelope covers Eastern, Southern and partly Central Africa, but in most areas it is quite rare. In general, the big kudu is not one of those antelopes that you can often find. It prefers hilly and mountainous terrain with rocky soil, but also lives on the plain. Everywhere it stays very secretive. An indispensable condition for its life is dense thickets of bushes. The second condition is accessible watering holes, when these dry up during the dry season, the great kudu makes long-distance migrations. It tolerates human agricultural activities much more easily and, being an excellent jumper, overcomes fences 2-2.5 m high without much effort. Kudu usually lives in small herds of 6-10 (occasionally 30-40) heads. The herd consists of females with calves and young, immature males. Before the rut, old bulls live alone or form groups of 5-6 individuals. Greater kudu graze at night or in the morning and evening hours. The watering hole is scheduled for the same time. The food consists almost exclusively of leaves of various shrubs, and only in dry periods do animals eat bulbs and rhizomes. There is no information about marking individual areas to which kudu is very attached, although there are observations that old males sometimes rub their cheeks on the bark of trees or on stones. It is possible that this is due to the leaving of odorous marks. It is also possible that the role of “claim posts” is played by shrubs broken by horns, which are often found in kudu habitats. During mating season, male greater kudu join herds of females. At this time, intense rivalry arises between males, manifested in frequent fights. It is not uncommon for two old males to become so locked in their spiral horns that they can no longer free themselves. The threat pose of the great kudu is peculiar: the animal stands sideways to the approaching enemy, lowering its head low and arching its back. If the enemy tries to get around him, the antelope turns sideways towards him again. However, when attacking, the male always changes position and turns his horns towards the opponent.

Mating is also preceded by a special ceremony. The male, approaching the female, takes an impressive pose: he turns sideways to her with his head held high, facing in the opposite direction. If the female is not in the mood to accept courtship, she cools the male's ardor with a strong blow to the side. Otherwise, she runs away, provoking pursuit, during which the male, while running, puts her head and neck or one of the horns on her back and tries to stop her. When this fails, the male tries to bend the female’s neck to the ground with his neck. Pregnancy in the greater kudu lasts 7-8 months; Cubs are usually born during the rainy season, but in some places, such as Zambia and Southern Rhodesia, newborns are seen throughout the year. A newborn kudu hides in a secluded place where the mother comes to feed him. When alarmed, the kudu's voice is a dull, distantly audible bark, similar to a cough. Among the predators, the large kudu is attacked by lions, leopards, and hyena dogs. Young and females often fall prey to cheetahs. The great kudu, with its striking horns, has always been the most coveted trophy of European and American sport hunters.

These antelopes stand out among other antelopes that live on African continent, with its bright, memorable appearance.

Greater kudu are large animals with a majestic appearance, reaching one and a half meters tall at the shoulders and weighing more than three hundred kilograms. They are among the largest antelopes in the world.

The habitat of greater kudu is central and eastern Africa. They prefer to settle in savannas, on bush-covered plains, in forests, and in rare cases on deserted hillsides. In general, they choose a place to live depending on the season, for example, with the onset of drought they move to the banks of rivers. Their most favorite place is thickets of bushes, which help them hide from predators, of which there are many in these places.

Greater kudu have a grey-brown coat with white stripes on their sides, white markings on their cheeks, and diagonal stripes called chevrons running between their eyes. Males have darker fur with a gray tint, while young animals and females have a beige coat, which allows them to remain more invisible against the background of vegetation.

The real highlight of the male Greater Kudu are their large helical horns. They don't shed them like deer and live with the same ones all their lives. In adult males, the horns have two and a half turns. Moreover, their horns curl strictly in accordance with the schedule: they appear in the first year of life, and by the time the male turns two years old, they make one revolution. And they are finally formed by the age of six years of the animal. One horn of a great kudu, if extended in a straight line, would be about two meters long.

Such impressive horns are a weapon of large kudu against predators and for sorting out relationships with other males in the fight for females in mating season. But sometimes battles between males can end quite disastrously: they can cling too tightly with their horns, which they can no longer disentangle. Unfortunately, in such cases both animals die. And in all other situations, the horns in no way interfere with the life of large kudu, so they can easily and naturally move near trees, only by raising their chin and pressing their horns to their back.

The males of these antelopes live separately, and during the mating season they join the females, who, together with their cubs, live in small groups, including from three to ten animals. These groups spend more time among tall grass and bushes, hiding from predators. Their coloring perfectly helps them camouflage themselves so well that if the antelope stands still, it is almost impossible to see it against the background of vegetation.

If a kudu senses danger, it freezes motionless for a while and moves its large, sensitive ears, after which it abruptly runs away to the side, at the same time making a barking sound, which warns other relatives about the danger. It should be noted that greater kudu produce the loudest sounds compared to other antelopes.

Listen to the voice of the kudu antelope

Another alarm signal of the great kudu is its spinning white tail. These antelopes jump beautifully, and even their large physique does not hinder them. They are able to jump over obstacles about three meters high. Large kudu have a peculiar habit - when escaping from being chased, they run some distance and stop to look around. This behavior can be fatal for kudu.

Greater Kudu(lat. Tragelaphus strepsiceros) is a representative of the genus of forest antelopes of the bovine subfamily of the bovid family, living in eastern and southern Africa. Despite the large territory they occupy, they have low numbers in most areas due to habitat loss and poaching. The greater kudu is one of two widely known species kudu, the second species is the lesser kudu.

Description. Greater kudu have a narrow body with long legs, and their coloration can range from brown to reddish-brown. They have 4 to 12 vertical white stripes on their sides. The head is usually darker in color than the rest of the body, and has a small White spot, which is located between the eyes.

Male Greater Kudu are generally much larger than females. Males are also isolated big manes along the neck, and big horns with two and a half turns, which reach a length of about 120 cm. They diverge slightly from each other and slope backward. Antlers begin to grow between 6 and 12 months of age, having one branch at two years of age, and two and a half whorls being achieved by age six.

The Greater Kudu is one of the most large species antelope Males weigh from 190 to 270 kg, the height at the withers reaches up to 160 cm. Females weigh from 120 to 210 kg, the height at the withers is about 100 cm. The length of the body including the head varies from 180 to 250 cm, the length of the tail is from 30 to 55 cm. The ears are large and round.

Spreading. The territory of residence of greater kudu extends from the east in Ethiopia, Tanzania, Eritrea and Kenya, further to the south in Zambia, Angola, Namibia, Botswana, Zimbabwe and South Africa. They were also introduced in small quantities into New Mexico, but were not released into wildlife. Their habitat is an area full of shrubs, rocky slopes, dry river beds, and most importantly there must be a source of water. They can be found on plains bordering bushland, but these are quite rare.

Behavior and nutrition. During the day, the activity of large kudu decreases; they prefer to hide from the heat in the bushes. Large kudu are active at dawn and towards dusk. At this time, they go to water and search for places abundant with food. Their diet includes leaves, grass, shoots, and sometimes tubers, roots and fruits. Although large kudu prefer to live in one territory, however, during periods of drought they can migrate long distances to more favorable areas for living.

The main enemies of the greater kudu are predators such as lions, leopards, hyenas and wild dogs. Although cheetahs also hunt great kudu, they still cannot cope with mature males, so they hunt more vulnerable females and young animals. When the herd is under threat from predators, the adults (usually females) produce a danger call to alert the rest of the herd.

Social behavior and reproduction. Female greater kudu live in small herds of 6 to 20 individuals along with their calves. Males, as a rule, lead a solitary lifestyle, sometimes forming small herds of 4-8 individuals. The territory in which the herd lives varies from 3 to 6 square meters. km, covering about half the territory per day during feeding.

Greater kudu reach sexual maturity between 1 and 3 years of age. The mating season occurs at the end of the rainy season, which may vary depending on the region and climate. Before mating, greater kudu have a courtship ritual. Pregnancy lasts about 240 days. Calving usually occurs in February-March, when there is an abundance of young grass.

Greater kudu usually have one calf, although sometimes they may have two. At first, the calf will wait for the mother to feed it, but later it becomes more insistent and will demand milk itself. For the first two weeks, the calf will be in a secluded area where it will be difficult for predators to find them. After which, until the age of 4-5 weeks, it becomes dull to be with the herd only during the day. Males become independent at the age of 6 months, and females at the age of 1-2 years.