The Reserve open top truck stopped in the middle of the open savannah in the twilight of a mild November Tuesday. As the afternoon light turned slowly down to dusk the most daring wild animals started coming round for their daily hunting routine.
A little black-backed jackal was the first one coming closer to the truck and we just kept silent as the animal approached quietly, almost curiously. That was normal practice in the bush: to be as quiet as possible, so to allow the local fauna to live their own lives as near to normality as possible, without any human interference. To my surprise, the canid was smaller than I thought it would be, from my admitted poor knowledge taken from reading encyclopaedias or watching the Natural Science channel on TV. It was alone or so it seemed to us. I thought they hunted in packs, so I assumed that one was the leader and it was ahead of the group, so to signalize with a characteristic yelp when sighting signs of prey.
A sudden click followed by an indistinct sequence of short sentences in the ranger handheld transceiver scared the shy jackal away. A message was coming through. From our part, we had to make a good effort to try and apprehend the meaning of the radio communication exchanged. For a moment it seemed to me I was playing a role in one of those American films where the park rangers had a radio conversation between them and no one around would understand a word.
Not so many hours before, we parked the white Volkswagen Jetta by one of the rustic huts at the Nature Reserve situated almost at the borderline between South Africa and Botswana. It was a long drive from Johannesburg to the Reserve, but we were on holidays, anyway. Two couples travelling together and staying for a week in the bush, seeking a little rest and some contact with the nature. That was what we were. While we unpacked the trunk full of groceries and bags, we heard peculiar noises around the cabin where we were going to stay for about a week.
- Baboons, the host said. Careful with them, as they can easily attack you in search of food in the house. Lock the doors and windows, or else... well, you know...
We exchanged funny looks, trying to hide our concerns. The sentence did not really need to be completed. We certainly knew the consequences, from previous occasional advices.
It was early still, but we noticed the closer it got to the end of the day, the wilder and louder the noises became.
It was tradition to leave the lodge on a game drive by the end of the afternoon when the sun was sliding down the sky and the air was thus becoming fresher. When the daylight was waning, the wildlife would naturally be more effusive. The reason was that with lower temperatures and less light, the heat of the animals looking for food would go up. The preys would eventually go out of their hidings and so would the predators.
Large groups of springboks, gazelles, zebras and wildebeests, small families of giraffes and warthogs, heavy herds of buffalos and wild elephants had been spotted in some of our previous visits to the reserves.
In some instances we had experienced unusual encounters with wild animals in the country bush environment. South African wildlife is always very rich and vivid. Once in the wild, people are supposed to respect the animals, being in silence and staying away from their way, so they can live their lives in safety and as normal as possible. Most of them are used to the presence of cars and trucks stopped on specific sighting spots or the roads in the parks. People are advised and warned not to open their windows or doors or walk out in the bush, as wild animals are natural hunters and humans can be easy preys to lions, hyenas, baboons or any other hungry animal... Although most of the animals do not attack vehicles, baboons are always travelling in groups and use to jump onto or sit on top of them and try to find their way in. If they come inside, trouble is certainly one of the sad consequences, as they usually bite, scratch and might even kill, if opportunity allows it...
On one of the occasions, we had to drive away from an infuriated elephant which thought we were on the way threatening the safety of its family, mainly the very young ones. The larger member of the Big Five - a group of animals in danger of extinction - stopped in the middle of the road, turned to us and flapped its big ears, signalling that we should move away immediately. We were overwhelmed. As it did not see any reaction from us, it rushed against the car in order to eliminate the menace away from the group it was leading. It was then we learned elephants can be very dangerous if they feel their safety is being put in danger. They do not have natural enemies, as no other wild animal is strong enough to win a fight against them. Being big in the bush has its advantages. Men, however, are the only “animals” who would hunt them and could endanger the species.
Another click brought our attention back to the radio resting on top of the panel. The other rangers we had met some minutes before in the middle of the bush were asking assistance to follow a pride of lions they wanted to monitor the migration route in the park.
The truck made its way through the middle of the dry vegetation and we had to duck many times when it passed through the sharp thorns of the bushes. The driver, a ranger in his mid-thirties, with pale freckled skin and blond-ginger hair, seemed excited to help in spite of the bad mood his young wife at his side on the front seat expressed for the long time being waiting for him in the savannah late afternoon. Sitting on the back seats, two couples of young tourists, eager for a nice time in the South African bush and the taste for some mild adventure, become suddenly thrilled.
While we were on our way to the meeting spot, the radio kept on clicking and incomprehensible messages were exchanged between the group of rangers and our host. When we reached the clearing, there was an obvious excitement in the air. Although the tone of voice was very low, they were exhilarating.
A recently dead young ‘springbok‘ was bleeding in the fork of an almost dry tree. We could hear the sound of lions around us, attracted by the smell of fresh blood. The lights were out and dope loaded hunting rifles were directed to the tree bait.
There was a heavy silence in the air, but the atmosphere was a mix of expectancy and curiosity...
I was almost holding my breath, trying not to be the one who would give our position away to the beasts. We had to stand against the wind, so the pride could not detect our presence in the dark. The huge savage cats roared around. They were not surely only two or three.
We did not really feel in danger, as there were many weapons pointed around, but I kept myself very quiet sitting on the truck back seat. Two of the lions reached the dead gazelle but we waited for more to come. They were trying to drag the buck off of the tree fork.
A shot targeted to a large and strong female made her fall immediately, scaring the other animal away. The lioness still fought a bit, trying to move but the dope was strong and although a bit stubborn, the beast was rendered.
We immediately jumped out of the lorry and came around. The sound of the other lions roaring close to us made my spine chill. The vehicle lights were on now. One of the rangers told us not to touch the animal with bare hands, as they could carry too many unknown diseases. Rubber gloves were distributed so people could pat the sleeping animal.
I refrained from doing so, staying at the back of the group. I was definitely inappropriately dressed for a hunt. Besides the grey Bermuda shorts and a pale green t-shirt, I was wearing rubber soled flip-flops and, fortunately, a navy-blue nylon jacket.
The night was becoming colder and I longed for fire to heat me up a bit, but that would have to wait for long, I supposed. I did not pronounce my secret wish; just kept on looking at the people in silent curiosity and awe. There was a very sharp and long thorn coming up the rubber sole of my flip flops through the middle of my toes but I did not react, nor moved, nor talked. I slowly took it off and put the improper beach sandal back down underneath my right foot, without a word.
We heard the sound of the other savage creatures coming closer to where we were, roaring loudly, to announce their presence around us. Powerful flash lights were lit so we could stay safer for a moment and would have the lioness rolled over a large rectangular piece of canvas. Six men were needed to lift the enormous female up to the back of one of the trucks.
As soon as it was placed on, we heard a second shot. One of the guys put a young male down with a straight shot and we all held our breaths before we could run closer to the animal. The dart was still on its back leg when the strength left the huge feline and it slowly fell down on its side. It was approximately three years old and weighed more than two-hundred kilograms, said one of the men. That was indeed a nice strong male lion, an exceptionally beautiful specimen, although still smooth and without the sign of a mane around his head. That one male was more difficult to be placed on the truck where the other female was already.
Time passed by very quickly in the excitement of the night. Lights went out again as we heard the proximity of more members of the “panthera leo” family and they were not just but a few. We were back on the truck, a little safer and away from where the already torn bleeding gazelle was placed. When three more young lions were down, the others went away, not without protesting. The growls of the beasts were still too close to make us feel safe in the middle of the bush at that time of the evening.
The first two lions were carried out to another point in a smaller truck, where a group of rangers was already awaiting with their own paraphernalia, ready to take blood samples to be analyzed and categorized. We were left four of them to pack and take them later to the meeting point where they all were by then.
- Can you join in and help us with the other animals? We will need all the aid we can get, but you are free to say no if you do not feel comfortable in doing so. It is your call.
The ranger was serious. It was not a plea, but I knew he would not invite me if they did not have all that need of human force to assist them move the lions.
- Of course I help... I said, trying to be as casual as possible and hide my own excitement.
Greg, a friend of ours – who came with us from Johannesburg -was smaller and leaner than me and said yes. I would never say no. Besides that, I was thrilled enough to take my part in that play.
We were not in number enough to manage the situation without help anyway. The girls were sent back to the lodge. We did not want to put them in danger and we intended to be brief and go back as early as possible to have a well deserved supper with them.
Six men moving lions from the dusty ground to the trucks in a piece of canvas was not the only task we had to carry out. The more difficult part was to place them up into the dumping bed.
One by one, four young lions were placed on the open trunk, but our muscles started showing signs of stress as time went by. The last one was definitely harder to lift but we managed to put it lying perpendicular to the other three ones. There would be no place for us to be but in the back where the lions were already laying. When we climbed on the truck, the only places left for me and two of the guys were standing with our feet almost underneath the drowsy beasts. The last one had the mouth placed very close to by ankles and we could smell its bad breath from where we were standing.
The truck went ahead in the middle of the bush not respecting anything. Time definitely urged. The roads were practically inexistent and the lorry had to make its own to reach the path closer to the electric fence. We had to be as quick as we could and the driver was aware of the urgency of the situation. We did not know how much longer we could keep the animals put to sleep still cataleptic. When we reached the dusty road we felt a bump on the back.
One of the tires went flat. We jumped off as hastily as a flashing lightning. To my sense of time, it was the quickest change of tires I had ever experienced in my life. The guys did not have time to spend and we could be putting ourselves in danger. My ears were attentive to any movement or sound around us. We knew we might have been followed by wild angry lions in search of their feline buddies. We were no hunters, but they did not know that. We were humans and were keeping the members of their family as hostages, thus we were nothing more than natural enemies.
One of the guys pulled my arm when he saw me coming closer to the electric fence.
- Careful, he said. This can put a big man down.
I think he was trying to tell me I had no chance. I knew I was a small man compared to that huge South African man wearing the khaki ranger uniform and who was making me feel even smaller than I already was.
Back to the truck in about five minutes or so, we followed the sandy trail by the fence. The driver turned right again into the bush and drove hastily and carelessly to the middle of a clearing where he spotted some lights on. The night was fresh, moony and starred but those were undeniably artificial lights. I was afraid another tire would go flat, but that was not the overall fear in the group of men on board of that dark green lorry. I kind of felt a deep relief when I saw the lights ahead, where the other rangers were waiting for us. We were the last ones to arrive.
One lion was lying on the dry grass already. They were taking blood samples with what looked like a huge syringe and marking its back leg with hot iron, the way they use to do with cattle in a farm. The beast moved a bit and one of the guys ran to bring another injection of dope to keep the group at safe. How long it was there it was not really important, but we knew that we had to be quick. I was given a pair of rubber gloves by one of the veterinarian rangers.
Besides Greg, I was the other weakest ring of their chain. When we moved the first lion off the back of the truck I was told to hold its head firmly and aligned so not to let it break the neck if a sudden movement would make it fall to the side. I did not say no. Just took my position and embraced the huge heavy weighted head against my chest.
One by one the lions were carefully placed on the dry grass, one close to the other.
Next easy task for me was to rub a kind of ointment on the hot iron burned mark on the leg of the animals. The intention was to prevent infection and more unnecessary pain to the animals.
Greg had to be sitting on top of the “Daktari-like” van flashing the spotlight in all directions so to keep the wild animals off of the clearing where we were working at. We knew we could have been followed by the main pride.
Each lion was marked with a different symbol and two full syringes of blood were taken from their strong bodies. A nickname was given to each of them, noted in a pad, associated with the hot iron burned mark created by the rangers. I noticed two of them, a man and a girl, were veterinarians. After drenching the balm into the second back leg, my glove was torn, but I did no complain. Just knew I could not touch back any part of my body so to avoid any risk of infection. There was neither water nor food for us and I did not feel like peeing, so I was safe, for the moment.
One of the guys told Greg to keep the lights flashing around as he heard the sound of lions announcing they were coming closer. One of the animals growled and moved. My blood froze. We had to let it go. It was already marked and we had the blood samples stored. We’d better let it go.
I knew that time would come eventually but I expected we had it all set before the lions started waking up. That was not the case whatsoever. It started moving, trying to stand up in its still weak sluggish legs. But as I learned from cats, all felines are amazing animals; strong and persistent, they would never give up. The beast eventually got back on its four legs and looked at us.
The group was all alert, but the danger was imminent. I took a careful look around. There were no trees to climb up. All we had were the trucks and dry sharp thorn bushes. We had nowhere to run neither time enough to do so, if we were attacked.
A ranger climbed up on top of the van where Greg was holding the light with all his attention at the young male lion and quickly directed the strong beam to the animal eyes. The beast growled, stopped and then one of the guys shouted while another one shot the air to scare the lion, which protested, but did not move away. Maybe it was not strong enough and wanted to make us believe he was not as scared as we were. Maybe it was the real pride of the group – a leader of a sort.
The loud characteristic thud of the gunshot made the pride around the clearing react immediately. We heard the sound of roaring lions all around us and they did not seem to be pleased at all.
Our own beast was still staring at us, challenging the group of men to step ahead, as if we could or would dare. No one did. Neither did the big cat. Tension was heavy in the air when a second shot was heard and a third one soon after that. The beast objected with a snarl and turned around, running away from us to the opposite side into the dark night. It seemed the other members of the pride received the returning member with welcoming satisfaction as we heard the characteristic howls when it probably regrouped with the other ones.
By our feet we still had six lions almost waking up from an induced sleep. The burned marks on their members would not be welcome if they were sore by the time the wild animals woke up. We had to be quick.
Two more samples, hot iron cattle burning marks and some pad notes were taken on the last two young lions. The huge female which had taken the second shot of dope was still asleep in spite of the last dose being considerably smaller than the first one. Many attentive eyes were being kept around and I was quick to rub the ointment in the wounds. By that time the rubber glove was nothing but a faint version of the ones I got when we arrived at the clearing, but no one cared about it anyway.
One of the first lions which still drowsed on the dry vegetation was already moving its ear, breathing faster and slowly waking up. From our part, we started packing our things as quickly as possible. The flashlight was like police car lights flashing frantically all around the place. Greg was nervous... and so was everyone. Only the necessary instruments were still at hand when we finished the work on a most amazingly strong cat. Most of the guys were already ready to leave the spot when I put the protective balm onto the very last animal leg.
One by one the trucks left. We were last.
When I climbed the truck and took my seat on the back, it was long past midnight. I took a look around to where the lions were laying and saw the effect of the doping being over on most of them. The ranger said we should not wait any longer as the lights were not enough to keep the rest of pride away from the marked animals. That was evident when I looked ahead to the dark bush being illuminated by the truck lights and saw a pair of yellowish eyes flashing in our direction.
- Time to go, guys.
It was only then that I realized I was starving and feeling cold. The ranger came back to real life when I mentioned the simple facts of normal existence of mortals and said:
- We are going to be in big trouble for being so late and the girls are probably mad at us. They were supposed to have the supper prepared and be waiting for us a long time ago.
I have to confess that was not my first concern. I needed a bath, some clean clothes and a good hot meal. My stomach growled loudly. The truck was on the way to the lodge.
We were eager to tell the girls our adventures of the night and I imagined ourselves sitting around a campfire, eating a good coal roasted piece of meat and drinking some nice red and dry South African wine.
Little knew I that things were not as simple and straight forward as I wanted them to be. The girls had had their own adventure in the meantime.
When they arrived at the main house and dropped the hostess home, a wild elephant came too close to their truck and stopped at its back, impeding them to go backwards. For most of the people they are cute animals, but for those who had to run away from angry ones in the middle of the bush in another occasion, elephants were scary and violent contenders. Once they are angry, they would attack and step on anything they would find on their way. One would not want to stand on their path of destruction.
Afraid of the enormous danger standing behind the truck the girls had to wait in almost complete silence before they finally drove away to the hut. When the elephant was eventually gone, almost an hour had passed, but they were safe. With a sigh of relief, they headed to the bungalow where we were staying, some meters away from the main house. At that time of the night it would be dangerous to walk without someone to protect them, so they had to take the truck anyway.
Interesting fact was that no one in the house noticed the incident until they were told next morning.
A servant, who was designated to light the fire - so they could prepare the food on the ‘braai’ built on the outer area the hut, was patiently waiting for them to come. He lit the fire when they arrived and went away without saying many words. We learned some of them could not verbalize in English, so they would not try, particularly to strangers.
The meat was placed on the grill and not surprisingly the animals around immediately smelled the appealing scent of cooking meat. Monkeys started to get closer and making their presence be noticed by emitting loud scaring growls. Afraid of the attack of the wild monkeys, the girls ran inside the hut quarters. The meat was left unattended. The baboons made louder and wilder noises, as they came closer to the food. Feeling guilty for having lost a not started battle against the animals, in spite of their fear, the girls went out again, collected the still uncooked meat and locked themselves inside. Once in safety against the predators, they longed for us to be back in a little while, but that did not happen so soon.
By the time we arrived at the cottage, tired, worn out, starving and dirty, we were told there was no supper ready. They stated, with funny faces, the only thing we had to eat was bread and butter.
A bit disappointed, but not feeling strong or willing enough to complain, we decided to ask for details only after a good warm disinfecting shower and that was what we did. Showered and with clean clothes on I longed for a good hot meal but had to be satisfied with a roll of bread and butter, which was good enough for the time, but it was inadequate to the ones who expected at least some coal grilled meat.
It was the girls’ time to tell us what had happened that prevented them to wait for us with our evening meal ready. So, they told us all about their own incidental adventure.
We heard them with full attention, sometimes making comments, but feeling a bit guilty for not being there to support them. In the end and after some laughs, however, we realized that some bread rolls with simple butter spread on top was a very welcome meal at the end of the day anyway.
A proper “braai” would have to wait until the next day. At least the meat would have been marinated enough, thought I, on my way to bed, antecipating the taste of the meal and longing to tell them everything about our own adventure in the bush...
