We had an excellent late lunch at
Hwange around three-thirty, and then were shown to our rooms. Four
cabins stood on each side of the main lodge, with plenty of space
between them for privacy. The cabins had tent-like canvas
walls and thatched roofs, and large screened windows that ran the
full length of the room on the side facing the water hole. There
were twin beds with heavy blankets encased in mosquito netting.
The shower area was accented by zebra tiles, and had a good view
out over the plain. There was a door out to a little verandah at
the back, where we could sit in camp chairs and look out at the
water hole.
The Water Hole at
Camp Hwange |
At four-thirty we gathered in the common area for the
afternoon game drive. The staff had prepared a magnificent
chocolate cake for afternoon tea, but we had just finished lunch
so were too full to eat it. The cake looked delicious and the
staff was amazed that we declined, and in fact later on I
regretted not having had a taste. I hope the cook was not
insulted.
I climbed into Adam’s
vehicle, along with George, Rosemary, Nick and Gina, and the camp
owner, David, went with us. Jineen, Mike, Sally and Mary (the
birders) were in the other vehicle with Julian.
We drove a narrow dirt track
across the mopane-veldt, flat land covered with short scruffy
mopane trees that had mostly been eaten off by the elephants. The
air was crystal clear and the sky a deep blue. We crossed open
plains of thick dried grass, golden in the sunlight, and went
through several pockets of teak forest.
Right away we found a
big herd of buffalo, hundreds of them. Formerly known as Cape
buffalo, we learned that they are now known as African buffalo. They are massive, with thick muscular bodies and
heavy curved horns - the big bulls can weigh up to 2000 pounds. We
noticed that many of them had oxpeckers perched on their heads and
backs. These medium-sized grey birds pick off ticks and parasites;
I suggested that they should more properly be called
buffalo-peckers.
The big bulls at the
front of the herd were snorting at us aggressively. Due to their
unpredictable nature, the Cape buffalo is considered to be one of
the most dangerous animals in Africa. David told us they are not
really as bad as people think when in a herd, but that the older
bulls can get very grumpy when they are on their own.
A herd of elephants came into view
in the distance, and behind them were a group of zebras. How
incredible to be able to sit in one spot and watch all three
species! Julian told us that both elephants and buffalo will
defend wounded members of their herds from lions.
We stopped by a small waterhole where several elephants were
drinking. Adam drove near them, but Gina was afraid and did not
want us to go any closer. She became very agitated, telling us
that she had been on a game drive once where an elephant charged
the vehicle. David got in the back seat to talk her through it; he
calmed her somewhat but it was still evident that she was
frightened. We found this surprising; we were not that close to
the elephants and the situation did not seem to warrant fear.
The sun was getting
low in the sky, and Adam drove us to a spot where we could watch a
lone elephant silhouetted against the sunset. Then we moved on to
a large waterhole where we stopped for sundowners,
an African tradition where you find a place with a lovely view and
have a drink as you watch the sun go down.
There were hippopotamuses in the
water, mostly submerged, with just their eyes, ears and nostrils
showing above the surface as they watched us. Half a dozen
elephants stood along the far shore drinking, and while we watched
more came, and yet more again. They spread out around the water
hole in the dusky light; before long there were over a hundred
elephants surrounding the waterhole.
We got out of the vehicle and Adam
poured us each a glass of wine. The hippos stuck their heads up
out of the water and called out in deep raucous voices. More
elephants filed in – soon there must have been 150 of them all
around us in the gathering darkness. As they moved around the
waterhole, several of them came within 50 feet of us. The sky was
a deep mauve, and bats flitted around overhead. Several big ellies
moved even closer and David told us to get back in the vehicle; he
said that elephants don’t see vehicles as a threat, but they
might view humans as one. We watched them in the fading light, and
listened in awe to their trumpeting voices. Sundowners with 150
elephants; who would have thought it!
It was dark by the
time we moved on, and Adam drove holding a spotlight, sweeping the
beam back and forth searching for the glowing eyes of nocturnal
animals. We got a fleeting glimpse of some springhares hopping
through the dark – they are like a cross between a rabbit and a
miniature kangaroo. We had a brief look at an African wildcat as
it crouched in the tall grass. Then we got a radio call; a lion
had been spotted!
We left the wildcat and Adam took
off, driving fast to get to where the lion had been seen. But
suddenly Julian’s voice came over the radio: STOP!
Don’t come close, be careful! A
male lion had chased Julian’s jeep, and he was warning us not to
approach. I was immediately envious; I wanted to have been in the
vehicle that got chased by a lion! We
proceeded slowly, but as we neared where the lion had last been
seen there was nothing but dense brush. David said it was not safe
to go in any closer, because there was no place to turn around
fast should the lion attack.
When we returned to
camp and met up with Jineen, Sally, Mike and Mary, we learned the
whole story. They had been driving along in Julian’s vehicle,
searching with the spotlight for small nocturnal creatures, when
suddenly a huge black-maned lion leaped out of the bushes and went
for the vehicle. It was very close, and chased them as Julian
hastily accelerated away. After a hundred yards the lion stopped
and Julian turned to watch it, cutting off the motor.
As the big cat lay down, Julian
told them that this particular lion was very grumpy, and was known
to be aggressive. His name was Nxaha, which means ‘one
testicle,’ because he had lost the other in a fight - which
might explain his bad humor. After a few minutes Nxaha got up and
roared, then sprayed to mark his territory. Then he charged the
vehicle again!
Nxaha covered the ground quickly
while Julian hastily turned on the motor, did a fast U-turn and
accelerated away. Mary had the presence of mind to take a photo of
the lion coming at them. Nxaha chased the vehicle aggressively,
running beside it, just feet from where Sally was sitting; it was
exhilarating and terrifying for those involved. After a hundred
yards or so the lion stopped the chase - at that point Julian
radioed to Adam and warned him not to approach. I was really
disappointed to have been in the other vehicle and missed it all!
Julian told us that Nxaha was well
known among the guides for being different from the other lions;
he was unpredictable, and didn't give the usual warning signs
before charging. He was famous for chasing vehicles when in a bad
mood. He had formed a coalition with another male lion, Vusa, who
was the opposite in personality, very docile and amenable (at
least as lions go). Nxaha was getting old, maybe 13 or so, and was
fairly thin. Perhaps he was feeling a little desperate.
Back at camp we had
drinks around the campfire and discussed the lion adventure. We
were served Amarula, a liqueur made from the fruit of the African
marula tree; it was excellent, much like Bailey’s Irish Cream. I
had recently gotten a new camera with a very high-powered zoom,
and I played around taking photos of the moon; the magnification
was so good you could see the craters.
We had a very good
dinner of roast pork. A woman had arrived at camp with her 13 year
old granddaughter, bringing the guest total up to eleven. We sat
around the table with our hostess Ruth, and with guides Julian,
Adam and Quinn, and camp owner David, all of whom were white
Zimbabweans.
Dinner conversation centered on
the Zimbabwe (formerly Rhodesia) government. I had read about the
conflict and strife this country has endured, so it was really
interesting to hear what it was like from two of our guides,
Julian and Quinn, who had lived through the farm seizures and
‘land redistribution’ of the past decades. It was evident that
despite the government leadership problems, these guys were proud
of their country. Quinn explained that when things had gotten
really bad under Mugabe’s dictatorship he had thought about
leaving the country like so many others had, but then he realized
that if things were ever to improve it was up to people like him
to make it happen. So he had stayed and done his part, working
toward improving his country through promoting wildlife
conservation and tourism. It was quite inspiring to hear him talk
about it.
Quinn also discussed the elephant
dilemma with George: in the past the elephants migrated across the
continent, but in modern times they can’t because of loss of
habitat. During the dry season game reserves such as Hwange pump
water from bore holes for the elephants so that they stay in the
park, but now there are more elephants in the area than the land
can properly sustain. There are no easy answers; the food sources
run low if the elephants stay in one place for too long, but there
is no place left for them to go.
After dinner we sat around the
campfire again. We could hear lions calling in the distance, and
the high-pitched yipping of the jackals. Frogs croaked loudly just
outside the dining area. Julian told us that when it came to the
game drives, he and the other guides were totally motivated by FOMO,
or the ‘fear of missing
out.’ Nobody wants to be the one to miss the lions!
Adam escorted Jineen and I back to
our cabin. We could hear an elephant tearing branches off the
trees as it fed, maybe 150 feet from the cabin; from the back
verandah we could just barely glimpse him in the dark. We could
hear the faint sound of the generator, running the pump through
the night to keep the watering hole filled.
We shivered in the crisp air;
African winter nights are colder than one might think.
Crawling into our beds beneath heavy wool blankets, we were
delighted to find hot water bottles nestled under the covers. We
lay and listened to the sounds of the African night; the
trumpeting of elephants and the soft inquisitive ‘whoop whoop’
of a hyena passing by. In the wee hours we heard the lions calling
again, proclaiming their territory.
July
23
I had dreams of lions all night;
they were coming for us in our tent! All of the guides and staff
were huddled in the cabin with us, carrying pitchforks to fend
them off. Heavy claws were scratching at the door, and we could
hear sinister growling just outside the window. We knew the canvas
walls would not hold them for long. A huge paw, with claws
extended, slowly slid under the door . . . it was a relief when I
finally woke up.
A pleasant voice called good
morning to us at 5:45 - our wake-up call. Jineen had seen some
lights out by the waterhole before five; we later learned that it
was Adam driving around scouting for the lions we had heard the
night before. Whenever lions are heard in the night, the less
experienced guides take turns scouting for them very early the
next morning.
We had a quick bowl of porridge
and set out on the morning game drive at 6:30. Again we took two
vehicles; George, Rosemary and Nick and I rode with Julian, along
with an apprentice guide, Stephen. July is winter in Africa and it
was quite cold, so we wrapped ourselves in the heavy wool blankets
provided in the open Toyota. As the sun rose, we drove along
narrow tracks across the golden plains and through the mopane
scrub, searching for wildlife.
There is plenty of
wildlife in the game reserves in Africa, but finding it can be a
challenge. The guides know the area well and know where to look
for the animals, but there is no guarantee you are going to see
them. The hunt is half the excitement, and there are surprises at
every turn.
We saw impala and warthogs right
away; they were there on virtually every game drive of the trip.
We searched for traces of the lions we had heard in the night. We
hadn’t gone far when we noticed a cloud of dust in the distance;
soon a huge herd of African buffalo came into view, moving in a
line across the plain. Julian said they were going for water, and
we would drive ahead to the water hole to wait for them - it
turned out to be the one right in camp!
We waited in
anticipation by the large shallow pond, and soon we could see the
line of buffalo in the distance, coming our way. The other vehicle
was there as well with Jineen, Mary, Sally and Mike. As the first
line of buffalo reached the water their reflections were mirrored
in the still surface for an instant, but the image was shattered
as the huge beasts plunged into the water. They barged in by the
dozen, pushing and shoving for space to drink, and we watched them
in awe. A herd of buffalos drinking is a spectacular sight! Julian
estimated there must have been about 350 of them, strung out in a
ragged herd, taking turns in the water. There were a number of
calves among them, staying close to their mothers’ sides. We
watched them, fascinated - though I did notice that Sally was soon
scanning for birds.
When the buffalo
finished drinking we moved on.
We hadn’t much luck finding the lions, but there were
some amazing birds. We stopped to watch an African hoopoe, with
its distinctive long pointed bill and tufted topnotch. A
lilac-breasted roller sat on a branch; these magnificent birds
display a veritable rainbow of colors. With a flash of iridescent
turquoise it flew off, even more beautiful in flight.
A grey go-away bird perched in a
tree. He called out to us in his grumpy voice,
‘Go Away! Go Away!’
It was obvious how these
birds got their name. These somewhat parrot-like birds used to be
called grey lories, but Julian told us that the biologists have
officially changed their names to be consistent with world-wide
designations; they have done this with a number of birds and
animals.
Lilac-breasted
Roller
|
Grey Go-Away Bird |
Francolins are
another example; I was surprised to learn that these ubiquitous
partridge-like birds are now called spurfowl. I asked Julian if
francolins and spurfowl are the same thing - well, not exactly, it
seems. Apparently all francolins are spurfowl, but not all
spurfowl or francolins. Or was it the other way around? Sally
would know.
A magnificent tawny eagle perched
atop a tree. I wanted to stop for a photo but Julian was in a
hurry; he said they were common and we would see others. I decided
I would go with the birders on the next drive.
We drove for miles through wide
expanses of stunted elephant-eaten mopane trees. (Elephants have a
lot to learn about conservation of resources.) We crossed flat
plains covered with wispy golden grasses and patches of teak
forest, shady and inviting. We compared notes on places we have
visited; Nick said this was by far the most remote place he had
ever been in his life.
Julian stopped by the road in a
wooded area with many large rock outcroppings known as kopjes.
Another vehicle was already parked there so Julian decided to have
a bit of fun; he wrote a note saying ‘Spike, this is MY
territory!’ and propped it on his friend’s hood with pieces of
elephant dung. Then we set out for a walk through the bush.
It felt good to get out and
stretch our legs. Julian carried a rifle, and we traveled single
file through the scrubby forest. The apprentice guide, Stephen,
brought up the rear, wielding a tool that looked like a cross
between a caveman’s club and a tomahawk – it gave him the look
of some fierce tribal warrior of old.
Stephen, apprentice
guide, ready for action..
|
Several impala stared
at us in alarm before disappearing into the brush. We got a
glimpse of a rock hyrax high up on an outcropping, and watched as
the furry little creature darted into a crevasse. Julian showed us
some cone-shaped holes in the sand that were made by ant lions;
these tiny creatures are the larval form of lacewing flies, and
they make the funnel-like holes to trap ants. Julian took a twig
and gently brushed it along the rim and the little creature shot a
stream of sand up, trying to knock an ant into the hole. It was
amazing to watch.
Everyone is familiar with the Big
Five; the lion, the elephant, the buffalo, the leopard and the
rhinoceros, traditionally considered the most dangerous African
animals to hunt. But now we were seeing one of the Little
Five, which consists of the ant lion, the elephant shrew, the
buffalo weaver, the leopard turtle, and the rhino beetle. Seeing
the small things you might miss while driving is what makes a
walking safari so special.
We came across the flattened ovals
of elephant footprints in the creek bed, and Julian explained how
one could tell the age of an elephant by its tracks. As they age
they have fewer wrinkles, and their feet become worn smooth on the
back, leaving a smoother footprint.
We climbed a kopje and scanned the
plain; Julian was searching for a lone bull elephant in hopes we
could get near it on foot. We saw a band of female with babies in
the distance; it would be far too dangerous to approach a breeding
herd because they aggressively protect their young.
Julian pointed out the conical
lairs of the funnel-web spider, and trees laden with dozens of
weaver bird nests. We came across a set of kudu horns, twisted and
graceful - probably something had eaten their owner. Antelope have
horns, which do not shed, and deer have antlers, which do – that
is one way you can tell them apart. We also saw an ant crystalized
in the sap of a mopane tree, sort of like the dinosaur DNA trapped
in amber in Jurassic Park.
When we returned to where we’d parked, Spike’s vehicle
was gone, elephant dung and all.
We drove through a
network of small dirt roads, looking for whatever we might find
– but the animals seemed to be in hiding. Julian paused to
replace a sign that had been knocked down by the elephants. Then
we went back to the blind at Masuma dam; this is where the action
was! Crocodiles lazed on the shore while impalas and warthogs came
down to drink. Guinea fowl scurried along the water’s edge, busy
and quick.
But best of all were
the hippos. They floated serenely in the water with just their
eyes, ears, and nostrils above the surface. Then the big bulls
would raise their heads out of the water and laugh; the sound they
made was a deep HA HA HA,
both comical and somewhat sinister, reminding me vaguely of Jabba
the Hut. It was a marvelous sound, and we couldn’t help but
crack up each time we heard them.
Hippos spend most of
their time in the water, though they do come out on land to graze,
mostly at night. Oxpeckers perched on their backs and heads,
flapping up into the air when the hippos submerged and landing
again as soon as they surfaced - I commented that they really
should be called hippopotamus-peckers.
But when the hippos started to
play-fight it was a sight to behold! They would rear up out of the
water in mock battle, nose to nose, with mouths open wide
displaying dagger-like teeth in apparent fury. It was amazing how
far they could hold their mouths open, and their fangs were well
over a foot long. At first we weren’t sure if they were fighting
in earnest, but it became apparent that they were passing the
time, perhaps practicing for future conflict.
We returned to camp
all too soon for me - the other vehicle stayed out an hour longer.
Julian’s wife, Ashley, was in charge of the food at the camp; at
lunch she introduced us to their small baby. In the afternoon some
of us washed our personal items in the shower; the camps have
excellent laundry service but they don’t like to do one’s
‘delicates.’
We had a bit of time to explore
the camp. Nick, who does marathons, was running back and forth the
length of the camp to keep up his fitness. A lilac-breasted roller
sat on the wall near the common area; one of the guides told us
they were feeding him to entice him to stay around camp. I stalked
a lizard that was hanging out on the woodpile. We reflected that
we had come at the perfect time of year; the weather was lovely,
warm with clear blue skies in the day but cool at night, and there
were virtually no mosquitoes or annoying bugs.
Tea was served at
four, with delicious pastry twists. (We never did find out what
became of the chocolate cake from the day before.) We set out on
the afternoon game drive at 4:30; I went in the birder vehicle
with Mary, Jineen, Sally and Mike. Adam and David were guiding,
and Gina joined us. Gina was sick - every time she coughed I
imagined I could feel her germs spewing all over me.
We took our time and looked for
birds. We saw abundant francolins and guinea fowl, and an
attractive brown, black and white bird called a coucal. We told
Adam we wanted to get a photo of a magpie shrike and a
yellow-billed hornbill, and he found both for us right away,
posing in good lighting. The little bee-eater was one of my
favorite birds, brilliantly colored in green and yellow. We saw
several impressive birds of prey, such as an African hawk-eagle and a
black-chested snake-eagle.
LBJ |
And of
course, there were the ubiquitous LBBs, or ‘little brown
birds’. Alternatively, Sally called them LBJs, which stands for
‘little brown jobs.’ The bird watchers often spent
considerable time trying to identify some nondescript LBJ,
checking the bird books and using binoculars to see such
distinguishing features as the color of its eyebrows or the
underside of its tail feathers. I personally wasn’t worried
about whether we were looking at a southern
white-crowned shrike or a white-crested
helmet shrike, but rather spent the time trying to get photos
of the elusive little suckers. It was very clear to me that by
slowing down and taking the time to identify the birds, we got to
see a whole lot of things we might have missed otherwise, and had
a much richer experience for it.
However, looking for birds and
other easily missed creatures was a far cry from what
happened next!
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