New Mexico’s oryx herd is apparently out of control. That’s gemsbok for those of you who are Safari Club fancy. Gemsbok are large African antelope with dagger-like horns, set loose in New Mexico by state biologists in a desert devoid of big game in the 1960s.
Those biologists thought the animals would limit themselves to a single desert valley in the border region. They didn’t, and where those biologists imagined a small herd of a few hundred, there are now thousands of oryx, maybe 7,000.
Stories like this — of an introduced species running amok — are common. Usually, these warning tales of unintended consequences come with confirmation that the invasive has pushed some less-adaptable native to the brink. That’s not the case with the oryx yet, though these true antelope could be outcompeting New Mexico’s native faux antelope, the pronghorn. Oryx are particularly well adapted to desert conditions and evolved alongside lions and hyenas. And these murder antelope are ripped. Their muscular necks and chests make them look like they spend too much time in the gym, sipping “supplements.”
Compared to oryx, American pronghorn appear almost frail.
While oryx numbers rise, pronghorn in the region are declining. It’s not clear this is a causal relationship, however. Pronghorn numbers are down in a lot of places, and as far as native ungulates go, they don’t always adapt easily to changes in their environment, especially human-caused changes.
The oryx-are-decimating-their-range stories will likely come, but for now, we can assume there’s a probable impact on pronghorn, and the ire of ranchers who’d prefer the scant surplus of grazing fodder in that part of the Chihuahuan Desert be reserved for cattle rather than African invaders. If we’re going to save the Chihuahuan, I’d prefer it to be for the benefit of scaled quail, but that’s my bias. If anything important is endangered by the presence of oryx in southern New Mexico, it’s the Chihuahuan Desert ecoregion, rather than any particular critter.
I mentioned oryx evolved alongside lions, so we know those dagger horns aren’t just ornamentation. The only predators oryx face in their adopted home, however, are humans and mountain lions, and obviously neither is predating at a rate fast enough to keep the population in check. Cougar kills on 450-pound oryx are rare; this is a big animal for a 150-pound puma to take on. Most confirmed mountain lion kills were by one oryx-specializing cat, and most of its victims were juveniles.
There may be hope just over the border in Mexico. Jaguars have been exploring the U.S. side of the border for 30 years. So far, it’s been a trickle of young males, but you’ll need females too if you want an actual population. Biologists are tracking females in Mexico that range only miles from the border, so there’s a reasonable chance the first wild jaguar born in the U.S. in decades might happen in my lifetime.
Jaguars are the third largest of the great cats after lions and tigers, and pound-for-pound, the strongest. Big ones run a little more than 200 pounds, but they can get to more than 300. Jaguars are significantly more formidable than a mountain lion. They roar, have the strongest bite force of all big cats and kill alligators for sport. Hopefully, they’ll move north and provide a natural remedy to New Mexico’s oryx problem.
Like the brown trout now carving out a niche in the Flathead, introduced species such as oryx come with benefits. Hunters and anglers like to pursue introduced species, which sometimes fill niches left by declining natives. But there are drawbacks – often significant drawbacks º if you’re trying to preserve those natives. And I’m always for that.
We can’t yet know the fate of New Mexico’s herd of gemsbok, but I wouldn’t mind it if a managed population survives, especially if it’s managed by a hungry population of jaguars.