It Takes 2 to Tango

          In a recent poll of the most iconic animals in Africa, the giraffe surprisingly destroyed all its competition by an overwhelming margin.  Nothing in the bush causes more oooh’s and aaaah’s than the elegant giraffe.  Sometimes it reminds me of bonfire night in England where there are massive firework displays and the cacophony of explosions is complimented by the appreciative noises from the enthralled crowd.  It is difficult to put one’s finger on the attraction of nature’s sky scraper but perhaps it is its uniqueness?  There is nothing in this world like a giraffe.  Its closest relative is the okapi which is only found in central Africa and seen by few.  It is also an odd animal with a slightly elongated neck and stripes like that of the zebra down its rump.

          If not its uniqueness, it must be its awkward, yet elegant grace.  Those long legs move with consummate ease and enable the giraffe to travel at surprising pace even though its strange gait of moving both left legs and then both right legs makes it look rather unstable.  The way that the neck rocks as it walks is mesmeric and I like to describe it as nature’s lava lamp.  It seems to have the ability to de-stress people by merely watching it carrying out its business.  If giraffes had jobs, the giraffe would surely be a counsellor or therapist!  Men, women and children alike seem to melt in their presence and a dumb grin spreads unconsciously across their faces as they lose themselves in this strange creation.

          It is odd to think that such a graceful animal has a violent streak in it but one must remember that this is the wild and there are things to fight for: survival and genetic success.  Giraffes are capable of killing with a single kick if defending themselves and many a lion has fallen foul to a skull shattering, flailing limb.  The only way to ensure genetic survival is to find a mate and that must be achieved through dominance, and that means combat.  As a giraffe ages, calcium is deposited on the skull to make it heavier, more robust and a more effective weapon.  The thick ossicones (horns) that protrude from their heads are used to great effect as they are swung at their opponents with surprising force.  Impacts can be savage and giraffe have been knocked unconscious in these exchanges before!

          Yesterday afternoon, we were privy to watch a heated exchange between two young males as they vied for the affections of a nearby female.  They stood side by side, jostling each other for position and swinging their necks with incredible ferocity.  The flexibility of their necks defied belief as they wound up blow after blow like a medieval knights wielding a mace.  Perhaps even more impressive though were the defensive manoeuvres as the combatants deflected and avoided each other’s club-like skulls.  It was a strange spectacle to witness as we were torn between marvelling at the veritable ballet of the dancing necks, and shocked by the brutality of the exchange.  The thuds rang out through the bushveld and winces of empathetic pain could be heard coming from the audience as their notion of a peaceful and docile animal were shattered.

          Even after 7 years, I often see things that I have never witnessed before, and this exchange was no different.  The two giraffe seemed to have different tactics; one preferred to swing downwards and concentrate on the flanks, whilst the other took the low road and swung upwards into the stomach like an uppercut.  However, at one point, the latter giraffe got his head caught under the leg of his opponent and as he raised his neck, the other giraffe found himself in a rather ungainly position!  It resembled the giraffe equivalent of yoga as the one giraffe balanced precariously on 3 limbs as his fourth was raised aloft by the other.  The serious nature of the guests was suddenly replaced by amusement as the two struggled to free themselves as they stumbled through the undergrowth.  After the incident, the combative nature of the exchange died down, perhaps both parties willing to compromise for now and rest their hyper extended limbs!  I have never seen a giraffe do the splits and now that I have, the spectacle will stay with me forever!

          It was a wonderful sighting full of intrigue and emotions as the guests got to absorb the beauty of the gentle giant, yet had to re evaluate their presuppositions of tranquillity as the heated battle raged.  Harmony was quickly restored however thanks to the rather light hearted and comedic ending to the exchange and we left the sighting grinning from ear to ear.  Once again, the complexity of nature had revealed itself but somehow, even in the midst of a brutal confrontation, the giraffe had left us with a sighting we would never forget and warm fuzzy feeling in our hearts.  

This! Is! Sparta!

          Ok, so the line from 300 might be a little cheesy or perhaps even lost on some of you but the parallels are rather relevant at the moment.  The dynamics of the lion population at Sabi Sabi has been crying out for change of late.  The epic nature of the Southern Pride’s reign has limited the movements of the other prides in the area for many years now.  They have in fact been responsible for reducing the neighbouring Charleston pride to just 1 lone female and her 2 sub adults only last year.  In keeping with the title of the blog, they are the equivalent of the Persians, conquering all before them, under the guidance of their king, Xerxes.  Xerxes was one man, whose confidence and success in battle was mainly due to the fearsome nature of his loyal 150,000 strong army.  In the microcosm that is Sabi Sabi, the Kruger male has been able to expand and more importantly, hold his territory thanks to the unstoppable force that is the mighty Southern Super Pride.  A pride of 18 lions is a fearsome unit and thus far has ruled the southern Sabi Sands with unwavering ferocity.

The Kruger male sports a nasty scar on his nose probably sustained during a feeding frenzy

The eyes of the Kruger male miss nothing

The KNP male emerges from the darkness on another territorial patrol

          However, in recent weeks, the area has seen the arrival of 2 new players.  The Sparta males from the east have been launching forays deeper and deeper into the Southern Pride’s territory.  An interesting coalition consisting of 2 unrelated males, one a magnificent male in his prime, the other a young warrior, fast maturing into a supreme specimen, the Sparta males seem to mean business.  The growing strength and confidence of the younger male has no doubt sparked this latest activity.  He seems to be exerting dominance over his elder partner and his desire for a territory of his own is obvious.  When the pair are on the move, it is always the younger that takes the lead.  Youthful exuberance and fearlessness seems to be driving the pair to confrontation, with the elder member being swept up in the occasion. 

The younger of the Spartans mounts his older associate in a show of dominance

One of the Spartan's attention is attracted by noise in the grass close by

The younger Spartan shows off his fearsome arsenal

          For the lone Kruger male, this invasion could spell disaster for his reign as experience can only account for so much.  After a while, the math becomes self-explanatory: in a 2 vs. 1 confrontation, the mighty KNP male’s match may well be met.  However, the KNP has not been king for nearly 2 years without his share of cunning.  Since the arrival of the Spartans, he has not left the side of the pride, safe in the knowledge that even with 2 males hunting him down, the protection of Mandleve and the other 6 females is invaluable.

Mandleve and her cubs play in the road

Mandleve shrugs off her cubs' affectionate advances

One of the Southern Pride females hurdles a cub as she dismounts a fallen marula tree

The Southern Pride youngsters play on a fallen marula tree

          The Spartans must rely on a divide and conquer strategy to survive.  If they can separate the KNP male from his battalions, they stand a good chance of taking over the prime territory of the Southern Pride and the rich breeding opportunity the females present.  During the past weeks, the Spartans have ventured deep into the pride’s home and have been heard roaring and scent marking – an unmistakable challenge to the current king.  The bold nature of the takeover bid matches the self-confidence shown by king Leonidas’ small, but elite, fighting force to hold the Persian hoards at bay against all odds.  However, if and when the 2 armies meet, the spectacle promises to be far more explosive than Hollywood can convey!  The Spartans must rely on cunning to succeed and timing is key.  The Southern pride are masters tacticians however and have continued to avoid the advancing Spartans.  Their ploy of unity has caused trepidation amongst the Spartans.  The sound of the Kruger male’s battle cry in tandem with 7 adult females and 6, more than competent, sub-adults has caused the Spartans to retreat for now.  They are still inside the territorial boundary but seem to buying time to work out their strategy.  No victory will be forthcoming against greater numbers with rash decisions.

The younger Spartan's mane is developing fast

The other Spartan gives us a great side profile shot

Ever alert, the older Spartan scans the horizon

          What promises to play out soon within the battle ground of Sabi Sabi is all out war.  Should the Spartans succeed in usurping the KNP male, it will bring about a fascinating twist in our dynamics.  The 4 sub adult males will be chased away for certain and the fate of the 4 cubs, losing the protection of their father, will be a foregone conclusion.  Or will it?  The Southern pride has proved time and time again that the females are a formidable force even without the presence of a male.  For those of you that are unaware, the 6 sub adults in the pride are no relation to the KNP male.  When he and his now deceased brother took control of the area some 2 years ago, they tried in vain to eradicate the genetics of its former rulers.  The cunning and strength of the females eventually culminated in them adopting the 6 cubs and raising them as their own.  This is highly unusual in the harsh world of lion population dynamics and proved beyond all doubt that these females are not to be underestimated.  Perhaps the same thing will happen this time around?  After all, the Spartan army managed to continue to defy the odds despite the loss of king Leonidas at the hands of the Persians…  Perhaps the pride will split?  Perhaps the KNP male will form a coalition with the 4 sub adult males?  The possibilities in the infinity choices of nature are fascinating and we wait with baited breath for the outcome of the mighty battle that is soon sure to rage

Fear of the Dark

          Fear of the unknown is probably the only phobia that affects every single person on the planet.  There are many irrational fears peppered through the psyche of the everyday man (or woman) on the street but most are borne of unpleasant past experiences.  What has enabled human beings to rise to an unsurpassed intellectual plane is the capacity of the brain.  The gift of imagination has granted us the ability to invent ground breaking technology and to surpass nearly every hurdle that mankind has faced.  However, this talent has a flipside.  The power of imagination is so potent that it is capable of destroying lives and reducing the strongest of men to gibbering wrecks.  These terrifying thoughts generally need a catalyst, and the most commonly responsible is the dark.

  
          From an early age, fear of the dark has plagued young children.  Sleepless nights wondering what monsters await under the bed or what manner of aberrations reside inside the closet are common place.  As a youngster, I myself refused to sleep with a limb hanging off the bed due to an irrational fear of having it bitten off by a fanged menace loitering in the shadows under my mattress.  Even noises that are heard during the daylight hours and ignored are transformed by darkness into the ominous footsteps of objects of our own fear.  The human world is so dictated by its ability to see and analyze what is seen, that when that sense is removed, the true power of the brain is unleashed.  And such monumental creative power is hard to control.  Let’s not forget that fear of the dark has its roots from early man when we were perceived as prey by all manner of fearsome beasts that roamed through the shadows of night.  The discovery of fire was hugely influential in primitive engineering circles but perhaps more than anything, it gifted man the ability to overcome darkness and keep perceived and very real dangers at bay.

          The bush is home to some of the most feared land predators in the world today.  The power and reputation of the lion, the speed and guile of the leopard and the sinister hyena all ply their trade under the cloak of darkness.  Viewed during the day, the cats especially are often construed as large kittens and many a guest has wanted to rub the belly of a sleeping lion as it dozes through the daylight hours.  However, once darkness begins to envelop the land, these nocturnal nemeses come to life and undergo a transformation as extreme as that of a caterpillar to a butterfly, perceptually at least.  The inky shroud that drapes itself across the landscape transforms these slumbering felines into efficient killing machines.  Blackness is their ally.  Their behaviour changes, their demeanor changes, our perception of them changes. 

          When we view cats at night, that primal fear is once again resurrected by the Cimmerian shade overwhelming us and these magnificent creatures come into their own.  The comfort and warmth offered by the Sun has deserted us and instead, the brain starts to recall all the horror movies it has witnessed, adrenaline levels rise and the infinite power of their imagination is released.  The darkness seems to invade every pore in our skin and systematically undo all our common sense and principles.  It is the feeling of hopelessness and helplessness that the absence of light brings.  The knowledge that their eyes are able to penetrate the gloom with consummate ease; that these predators must kill to survive and that we ourselves could become prey lend itself to a very different experience.  

           At Sabi Sabi we are blessed with wonderful levels of habituation and when a 200kg male lion stalks past the open land rover only a few metres away, the inhabitants hold their breath as one.  Men, women and children alike shift slightly in their seats to put distance between themselves and the superior specimen.  When it makes eye contact with you, even though the spotlight is illuminating its visage, the feeling of insignificance is hard to shake.  The uncomfortable knowledge that you are being evaluated by a killing machine whose eyes seem to look right through your skin and into your very soul is a profound experience.  Your conscience struggles to balance the feelings of wonder and respect with that of ancient fear and the primordial instinct to survive.

          The ability to slink through the shadows without a sound yet seeing everything has enabled these great predators to thrive.  The psychological advantage that they possess over their quarry is as old as life itself.  Darkness always has and always will carry with it the stigma of danger.  Throughout history and every religion in the world, darkness is seen as a bad omen.  The lack of depth perception, the inability to evaluate a situation in relation to its surroundings and the feeling of cold isolation all play a part in amplifying the power of darkness.  Surviving a day in the bush is a far different prospect to that of surviving the night.  The playing field flips and all of the senses and skills that enable us to flourish under the comforting companionship of the sun are removed and those that relish the darkness come to the fore.

          Just because the majority of organisms on Earth need the sun to prosper, it does not mean that those who crave the sanctuary of darkness should be seen as evil.  Everything in nature has its balance.  Without some species being able to flourish in darkness, a perfectly good ecological niche would be wasted and the balance would be upset.  One cannot exist without the other.  To paraphrase the great Chinese philosopher Laozi, nothing exists in isolation.  For life to exist there must be balance. This implies the harmonic existence of two things or what philosophers call ‘duality’.  Man has woman, heat has cold, good has bad and light has darkness.     

   

The Return of the King

          A lone silhouette silently padded towards us.  The backlight from the second vehicle cast an eerie glow around a muscular physique and sand puffed up from under powerful paws as they glided down the road.  Sandriver was back.  Over a year ago, this mighty specimen was dethroned as the king of the entirety of Sabi Sabi by a younger male we have come to know as Xihangalas; but times have changed.  Xihanagalas has not been seen very much over the past few months and news of his absenteeism had been quick to reach the former ruler.  No longer did the breeze from the east carry with it the familiar scent and territorial calls of his old adversary as it had done before.  The door had been opened and the old warrior did not need a second invite to walk through.

          His posture and attitude said it all.  Fearless of any foe that he might meet as he moved deeper into his old territory, stopping to call and scent mark every few hundred meters, there was no doubt that he was making a play for his old domain.  The lonely life of a leopard is harsh but Sandriver walked with a confidence that comes from self reliance and he looked good with it.  Full belly and velveteen coat left no doubt that he was still at the top of his game, regardless of his one handicap.  His blind right eye, opaque in colour, glowed like mercury as the powerful spotlight rays glinted off it; a daily reminder of the titanic battle that waged against his younger conqueror all those months ago.  The metallic quality, coupled with the aura of authority oozing from him made think of the Terminator movies – a lone warrior whose indestructibility meant that, regardless of superficial injury, he was as efficient a killing machine as ever.

          We followed him through the reserve, as he delved deeper into his former territory.  His internal GPS seemed to suffer no consequences as at no point did he stop to evaluate his position.  A leopard’s knowledge of every inch of his domain is essential: knowing the best hunting grounds and escape routes should he encounter marauding lions on his travels.  

          Every so often he would stop and cock his head to listen.  As we strained to match the acuteness of his hearing, we heard the faint but familiar rasping sound of another leopard in the distance.  Sandriver’s pace quickened and his level of territorial activity increased as he made a beeline in the direction of the challenge.  He began to drool, saliva hanging from the corners of his mouth, a typical response in leopards to heightened emotions.  The smell of his pheromones wafted through the night’s air.  Best equated to the smell of popcorn, this aroma contains all the information another leopard needs to evaluate the individual.  Routinely he stopped at bushes to wipe glands situated on the side of his face and his paws on to the leaves, leaving no doubt to others that he was back. 

          Occasionally he lay down to rest, but never for long.  There was business to attend to and old scores to settle.  The other male’s calls grew louder as he closed in on their location.  Silently he drifted across the savanna but a leopard’s instinct never sleeps.  As if to prove to us, and anyone else watching, that his compromised vision did not hinder him, moments later his good eye focused on something on the ground close by.  In the blink of an eye, his toned legs propelled him through the air as he pounced on a petrified scrub hair.  The 75kgs of feline perfection made short work of the snack and the entire hare was dispatched in a few minutes, fur, bones and all.  But there was no time to savour the flavour as Sandriver continued his relentless march.

          Time was against us however and forced us to return to the lodge salivating at the prospect of what we might find the nest day.  We know that the calls heard by the old king were coming from the Mahlathini male and only time will tell if Sandriver’s confidence and experience will be enough to subdue to new sovereign of the north, or whether youthful self belief will be enough to keep the old campaigner at bay.  For those of us who have been at Sabi Sabi for a while, to see Sandriver’s return was a real treat.  It just goes to show that nothing in nature is finite and that the dynamics of territories and dominance are not set in stone.  Whilst we revel in change, a large part of me wants to see Sandriver’s empire return to its former glory and I cannot wait to witness to no doubt turbulent struggles that will accompany it!

Survival of the Quickest

          But for a few notable exceptions, animals are not known for their problem solving abilities.  Most rely on primeval instinct that has been passed on to them through generation after generation.  The knowledge of what to do and when is as natural for them as is taking their next breath.  This instinct courses through their veins like a river and they react to stimuli without thought and without control.  One urge overrides all others in the natural world however and that is maternal instinct: the need and desire to produce, provide for and protect the next generation:  to ensure genetic survival.  A mother’s ability to feed off this preordained behaviour is unsurpassed and last night, we were privy to one such event as a mundane sighting turned into a breathtaking example of just how unscripted the bush can be.

          That morning, we had been fortunate enough to find the Nottins female scouring the lush vegetation for a much needed meal.  Not only for her, but with a cub at age 8 months hidden somewhere in the surrounding area, her need to find sufficient food is essential to ensure safe passage to adulthood for her legacy.  The relaxed nature of this particular leopard allowed us into her world and we followed her as she meandered through the undergrowth searching for an opportunity that might allow her to provide nourishment for her prodigy.  The level of concentration was evident from her behaviour as she routinely stopped and scanned the area, alert to any opening that her lighting reactions and centuries of honed instinct could exploit.  Bright sunshine however is not where her advantage lies and although well equipped to prosper in any condition, her search ended in vain and we left her slumbering in the shadows as the temperatures grew to unbearable heights and we too bade a hasty exit to avoid the harsh rays of the African sun.

          Later that evening she was spotted again and I made a bee line for the area, keen to see how she had fared during the fading light and to add another chapter to my guests’ experience.  As I arrived at the sighting I was disappointed to find that visibility was very limited.  Lying deep within the tangled branches of an impenetrable thicket, the only visual was of occasional spots.  Guests craned their necks and bobbed their heads as they tried to catch a glimpse of the perfect predator, but to no avail.  Time was against us however, and after 10 frustrating minutes I decided that she obviously didn’t want to be seen and that it was time to head home. 

          However, in the bush, tables can turn in the blink of an eye.  As I was turning the land rover, the bushes sprang to life and the leopard, motionless only a moment before, exploded from the thicket only meters from us.  Hot on her tail was her arch nemesis, a spotted hyena.  The surprises were not over yet and as we struggled to comprehend the dramatic turn of events, the cause of the hyena’s interest was revealed.  As Nottins bolted to the safety of an adjacent dead tree, she carried with her in her jaws a freshly killed duiker.  With all the grace of a decorated Olympian, she scaled the tree in seconds, covering us in a shower of decaying bark dislodged in her wake.  The frustrated hyena circled the tree for a few seconds but knew he had been bettered by his more agile foe.  Nottins sat upon her perch and caught her breath as she surveyed the surroundings, stopping occasionally to ensure that her prize was securely wedged and safe from the hungry jaws loitering below.

           We were treated to a magnificent sight as she stood imperiously on a limb bathed in the yellow glow of our spotlight.  Now that the initial shock of the action had subsided and guests had been assured that we were not in any danger from the formidable cat suspended above us, reaction turned from fear to wonderment as we were able to take in the scene.  Golden eyes pierced the surrounding gloom as she ensured that the danger had been neutralized and taught muscles began to relax as a realization that her investment was safe overtook her.  The dead tree gave us a perfect view of the leopard, no leaves impeded our view and the silence was overwhelming.  The sound of her heavy panting from the exertion of the climb; the occasional scuffing of strong claws as they shifted position on the flaking bark and the diminishing rustle of the grass as the beaten hyena slinked away into the darkness from whence it came, the only sounds to penetrate the darkness.  Beauty like this is not often seen, and as a guide there is nothing that can be added that can magnify the experience.  

          The speed with which she had identified the approaching danger merely served to epitomize the levels of awareness that are essential for survival and success in this harsh environment.  From a prone position, to sitting 4 meters above the ground with her cub’s meal safely stashed had taken perhaps a second.  Without this speed and lightning reaction, the future of her offspring would have been compromised and thanks to her honed instincts, its chances of survival had been elevated once more.  She would no doubt now go and retrieve her cub from the safety of wherever she had left it and lead her investment to its latest meal.  Nottins is now 13 years old and to my knowledge has only managed to get 2 offspring to maturity in countless attempts.  The Sabi Sands has the highest leopard population per kilometer in the world and competition is rife.  In an arena like this, mortality rates can be as high as 80% and without a highly honed maternal instinct, Nottin’s genetic survival is in real jeopardy.  We hope and pray that her increased experience will serve both and her cub in good stead for the future!