There was no sunrise on this particular late summer morning. The sun rose of course, but the heavy overcast resulted in a gradual increase in light rather than the orange and pink explosion that typifies dawn over the savannah.
We were heading out on a safari from Savanna Private Game Reserve in the Sabi Sands, with high hopes and no idea as to what the day would bring. The bottom line is, some game drives are better than others.
While I was considering this, my tracker Lawrence Masuku, perched on his front seat of the Land-Rover, raised his left arm to point out the first of the morning’s wonders – “Xkankanka”, Shangaan for cheetah. A lone male was patrolling the open clearings in a search for food.
Well used to the presence of green Land Rovers, he paid us no mind as we pulled up alongside to observe his feline alertness as he hoped to flush duiker or steenbuck from the clumps of grass along his path. Now and then he stopped to investigate the myriad scents left by others of his kind on the bases of the bigger trees. Turning, he would then leave his own scent, with a jet of urine and a strangely quivering tail that seemed to indicate some kind of enjoyment derived from this process of turf-claiming.
A few metres away lay a half-fallen Marula tree, and he ascended the horizontal trunk to gain elevation, and in doing provided the tourists with perfect photographic opportunities.
Leaving him to carry on hunting, we continued with the drive, with this auspicious start boding well for a good morning. Two minutes later we spotted four white rhino grazing in a small clearing. One of the females carried an impressive, lance-like horn and the calves were undeniably cute, with their bull terrier-like builds, oversized ears and big clumpy feet.
Moving on we encountered two more impressive grey-skinned creatures, still bigger yet and needing no introduction. The two bull elephants were feeding on the edge of one of the clearings, uprooting small raisin bushes for now. We marvelled as they used tusks, trunks and feet in extracting the hard-to-extract bushes, and then proceed to break off a few roots before moving on to the next unfortunate bush.
Word then came over the radio that the lion pride that dominated the south of the reserve had been located. They were not too far away and we arrived to find them lying on the edge of a large clearing; five females and their 10 combined cubs. The cubs here were well-fed and full of energy. While adults attempted to sleep, they played with mothers, siblings, trees and sticks. They stalked, tackled, pounced on and mauled each other in an endless game that was but mere simulation of skills and know-how that would be vital in later life. To marvel at their antics and innocence is an experience so uplifting, wondrous and enchanting as to be almost beyond words.
While we were enjoying the feline spectacle, something made me look up and, on the adjacent clearing, I saw some unfamiliar creatures bounding through the long grass, white-flag tails waving in the air and it took a few seconds before I recognised them as wild dogs. We intercepted the dogs in the clearing. There were only three out of the pack of five that entered our traversing area a few days previously. They are highly social creatures and were showing considerable distress at this separation. Holding their heads low to the ground, at the instigation of one of the alpha dogs, they simultaneously let out a long, haunting “hooo-hooo” contact call, mournful and forlorn as it rang out across the savannah. Over the radio came the news that the other two members of the pack had just been located on the eastern boundary of our traversing area, and were likewise calling out for company. Our dogs held their heads up and waited for a reply, but to no avail, for the others were out of earshot and their calls were lost among trees and bush. The other two also listened out for the familiar call in vain and the two groups unwittingly moved further and further apart. We followed them for a few moments before heading for a quiet place with a view for a coffee stop, where we could stretch taut limbs and mull what we had seen.
Suddenly more news: a leopard and her 10-month-old cub had been found not far away. The leopards were resting on the horizontal trunk of a fallen Marula tree and we noticed the presence of the leopard’s ever-present enemy – the spotted hyena. Soon the leopards decided to get moving. With the hyena following not 2m behind, the unlikely trio headed off towards the thicker bush. Every now and then the leopards would turn to hiss at the uninvited hyena. These interactions between predators provide perhaps the most interesting of sightings – who dominates whom; who fears whom? With hyena still in tow the leopards disappeared into impenetrable bush, and we turned south for home and the prospects of breakfast.
Yet the excitement was not over. Far from it, as the reserve’s southern buffalo herd, some 350-strong, had crossed into our section earlier that morning. They were not far from the lodge, and would make an ideal closing for the drive. The message was that they were heading for a small dam that was home to a lone hippopotamus bull, affectionately known as “George”.
Nearing the hippo’s dam from higher ground we saw the bulk of the buffalo herd had already moved on, but a dozen or so large bulls were milling around the water, drinking and lying in the cool mud. On the dam wall were two buffalo bulls… or were they? No, wait! On closer inspection we saw it was one buffalo bull and George, literally standing nose to nose. We stopped some 20 metres off and waited to see what would unfold. Then the buffalo made his move, rushing forward ever so slightly, and George lost his nerve. He turned and ran, head raised, jaws agape and slashing from side to side, with the buffalo in pursuit. On reaching the end of the wall he made straight for the refuge of the water, entering at full speed, with a hippo-sized splash and boat-sized bow wave, sending waves breaking across the entire dam. The buffalo ran alongside on the bank, making sure that the hippo stayed in the water, where he belonged. We had expected more from the hippo, with his reputation as one of Africa’s most dangerous animals. Perhaps he was intimidated by the numbers, and I guess he can’t be blamed. Three hundred and fifty against one are not the best odds…
With clients over the moon, we drove back to camp, and it occurred to me it was perhaps the best drive I had ever had, top out of more than 1 500 official drives. Space limits the inclusion of all the birds and other denizens of the savannah we had seen – giraffe, impala, kudu, duiker, steenbuck, warthog and more.
Excitement bubbled over at the breakfast table, with guests from the other vehicle relating what they had seen. While both vehicles had done equally well, I could sense the envy in the other guests on hearing of the hippo/buffalo encounter.
Too many times I have seen guests ruin their memories of a drive by dwelling on what they didn’t see.
A truly satisfying safari experience can only be had by dwelling on what you did see, and I guess this way of thinking has a far broader application in life, but you’ll have to consult the Dali Lama about that. - Saturday Star