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| Sunrise at Sabi Sabi |
We weren't
sure how we could top such an extraordinary first safari, but
we tried anyway at 5:30 a.m. the next day. Early, but the anticipation
cured any fatigue.
We
wasted little time before our tracker, the eagle-eyed Richard from the
nearby tribe, caught a glimpse of this extraordinary creature out of the
corner of his eye lying deep in the weeds:
This
leopard was well known to the Sabi Sabi rangers and was affectionately
named Sand River.
He stole our breath. We spent about 15 minutes
watching him alternately perk up, then yawn and fall over asleep.
Eventually he decided to start his day, and he almost brushed up against
Richard’s leg as he emerged from the long grass.
Sand River, were were
told, was a dominant male who claimed a large part of the southern Sabi
Sabi resort as his territory (which we watched him marking with his
urine as he sauntered down the dirt path).
However,
his eye had been destroyed recently in a fight with a rival, so his
depth perception is no longer accurate. As a result, he has had to give
up taking down large antelopes and other big game, and is now a warthog
specialist due to the relative ease in which he can hunt them. His
trademark is to wait on top of huge termite mounds for warthogs to
emerge in the morning (warthogs frequently sleep in such mounds at
night), and to then pounce on them as they exit unsuspectingly. Despite
Sand River’s ability to continue to fend for himself in the food
department, the rangers were doubtful that he will be able to defend his
territory for much longer moving forward, as his recent weakness had
become apparent to younger, ambitious male leopards. The laws of
nature.
After
reluctantly leaving Sand River, our luck continued. We ran into a baby
elephant and its older sibling. After watching from close-distance for
several minutes, we moved on knowing that its protective mother must be
somewhere around the bend.
We
also saw herds of gentle impalas; a half lizard/half snake reptile
called the Rock Monitor;
the Puff Adder, one of the two most poisonous
snakes in the bush (along with Kobe the black mamba being the other);
and two male rhinos still young enough that they didn’t mind hanging
with each other.
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| What are you doing here? |
Our
evening drive began around 4pm after the sun stopped beating and the
animals began to stir again post mid-day slumbers.
We came across a
majestic waterbuck;
a wart hog with two
babies; a discerning hawk;
some more big grey elephants;
a lime green
boomslang; a spotted genet; wildebeest; birds, birds, birds; and another
rhino. We felt blessed, especially given the abundance of rhinos.
Unfortunately, many Asian countries prize the rhino horn, mistakenly
thinking that if it is ground into powder it will give them health and
wealth (and sexual virulence). This belief is basically hogwash, as
rhino horn has no scientifically beneficial properties. Nevertheless,
poaching is decimating their herds across Africa, a problem that will
take international cooperation to solve.
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| Drink break |
As
the day was wrapping up, we came across a massive male bull. Before
approaching, ranger Joe warned that he could smell that the elephant was
in heat but frustrated because all of the local females had already
gotten pregnant. We approached slowly up a steep dirt road and watched
as he peered into the distance. But then he gave us a menacing stare
and began to strut towards us like a cocky boxer before a prize fight.
Before I could express my fear, Joe was whipping us backwards down the
incline and navigating big ruts, rocks and sharp turns while calmly
explaining that “this is how people get killed.” Cold comfort, but
exhilarating.
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