Markhor: Why hunting Pakistan’s national animal is so rare and costly

Dubai: High in the stark mountains of northern Pakistan roams the Markhor, the national animal of Pakistan and the crown jewel of international trophy hunting.

With its corkscrew-shaped horns, flowing beard, and unmatched agility, the Markhor which means snake eater, has become the ultimate symbol of challenge, prestige, and conservation success.

Unlike many other big-game animals, the Markhor thrives in inaccessible, high-altitude terrain. Found across the Hindu Kush, Karakoram, and western Himalayas, these goats inhabit elevations of 3,000—4,000 metres where cliffs, glaciers, and razor-sharp ridges define the landscape.

For hunters, this means long treks in thin air, days of glassing through binoculars, and the patience to crawl silently across freezing scree slopes. The Markhor’s exceptional eyesight, sense of smell, and agility make it nearly impossible to approach unnoticed. Often, shots are taken at long ranges, from precarious angles, after hours, sometimes days and weeks of stalking.

It is this combination of natural elusiveness and harsh environment that elevates the Markhor to the “Everest of hunting.”

Markhor hunting is not only physically demanding, it is financially elite. Each year, the Gilgit-Baltistan Wildlife and Parks Department auctions a small number of permits under a regulated trophy hunting programme.

In the 2025—26 season, permits were auctioned for record sums:

$370,000 for a single Astore Markhor — the highest hunting license fee ever paid worldwide.

Other Astore permits sold for $286,000, $270,000, and $240,000.

Blue sheep reached up to $40,000, and Himalayan ibex up to $13,000.

The base price of an Astore Markhor permit was recently raised from $150,000 to $200,000, reflecting both growing demand and the rarity of the opportunity.

Such six-figure bids attract wealthy hunters, mostly from the United States, Europe, and the Middle East, who pay not only for the trophy but also for the once-in-a-lifetime experience of hunting in Pakistan’s breathtaking highlands.

For centuries, hunting the Markhor was a cultural tradition in northern Pakistan. Local tribes considered it a symbol of skill, bravery, and survival. But by the late 20th century, uncontrolled hunting and poaching had devastated populations, pushing the species to the brink of extinction.

In 1990, Pakistan launched the community-based trophy hunting programme, turning hunting into a tool for conservation.

Only a limited number of old, non-breeding males are allowed to be hunted each year.

Some 80% of permit revenue goes directly to local communities, funding schools, clinics, roads, and conservation projects. The remaining 20% goes to the government for wildlife management.

This incentive has transformed villages into protectors of the Markhor. Where locals once hunted illegally, they now safeguard the animal, knowing that its survival directly supports their livelihoods.

The results have been dramatic: the Markhor population in Pakistan has risen to over 5,000, leading the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) to downlist the species from Endangered to Near Threatened in 2015.

Subspecies

Pakistan is home to five subspecies of Markhor: Astore, Kashmir, Kabul, Suleiman, and Bukharan, each adapted to distinct mountain habitats in Gilgit-Baltistan, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, and Balochistan.

The hunting season runs from November to mid-April, with December considered the prime period when males are most active during rutting. This is also when Markhor descend slightly from higher ridges in search of food, making them more accessible to hunters.

Hunters must prepare months in advance with altitude training, endurance exercises, and technical shooting practice. Rifles suited for long-range accuracy, such as the .300 Winchester Magnum or 6.5 PRC, are commonly used in the high mountains.

For international hunters, securing a Markhor trophy represents the pinnacle of big-game achievement. For Pakistan, it showcases how responsible hunting can fund conservation. And for local communities, the Markhor is no longer just an animal, it is a source of pride, identity, and livelihood.

As one villager in Gilgit-Baltistan explained: “The Markhor used to be hunted to extinction. Now we protect it — because when the Markhor thrives, we thrive.”