Call From the Wild

Over the years we see extraordinary events while out in this wilderness. Some are just rarely seen, some funny, some remotely similar to stereotypical behavior for that species and others a test on personal conviction about my role in all this.

There are Park Regulations and there are my Regulations. Both are essentially etched with Wildlife and Environment at heart. Mine are not always based on a foundation of objectivity but then neither is theirs. I do not have to explain that to those of you who’ve been on safari with me.
The Serengeti has a “Non interference policy” period. Only exception, of course, is when the Park authorities deem they have the right to interfere. Management, it’s called. I won’t even delve into that discussion lest the laptop melt. But, essentially we are not to interfere with an animal’s plight unless such plight is caused by Homo sapiens, Wise man. Such circumstances include injury caused by poachers or being hit by a car. Occasionally (if not often) we observe events that sorely test resolve and the basic instinct to interfere.

One such event occurred while bundubashing the Simyu Valley south of the Moru Kopjes.
Grasses yellow as far as the eyes can see but I’m burning mine through it just ahead of the front tires in my effort to avoid “pig holes”. “Pig holes” is the term for a subway station in the middle of the grass land sans signpost. One that normally swallows the front end causing a profusion of apology that does little to ease the bruises that result from the concussion.
Sun broils and although we’re hot I’m confident that this is just what I need to stand a decent chance of spotting a Leopard. Ahead of me Horace spots three Cheetah cubs in the shade of an Acacia Tree. Seems like a good idea to wait for their mother to return from her hunt. These cubs are about nine weeks old and I’d have expected the mother to be away for the morning coming back to care for them even if unsuccessful in her mission.
No sign of her and an hour in the sun. Not wishing to spook them any more we move on to some kopjes nearby. Immediately see a Leopard lying on a Kopje in the shade of an overhanging Ficus. Magnificent! But I’m already concerned that the Cheetah cubs are so close and this Leopard will definitely take them if they happen to stray in to his killing zone. Scanning for the mother Cheetah I see what was clearly a kill made by this Leopard in a Ficus high up on an adjacent Kopje so off we go to check it out more closely. This is not any

kill but rather the carcass of a Cheetah. Can it possibly be? I need to be sure so against better judgment get out of the cruiser and slowly climb the Kopje. Constantly aware that another Leopard could be nearby I tread lightly knowing that any charge would be lethal. Is this worth it? But, I have to know so press on, climb the tree and sure enough this is a recently killed Cheetah. I take the trail back down glancing into the heavens giving thanks to the guardian. Why am I only partially relieved I wonder? It dawns on me and the inevitable clouds my joy over the morning’s extraordinary successes. I can just see how it all played out yesterday on a sunny dawn in this Savage Paradise.

Hiding her cubs, she strikes out hungry. It’s cold but will be hot. She must persevere in her relentless struggle to survive and to raise the cubs. To do this she must spot, approach, run at seventy miles per hour catching her target within fifteen seconds. She cannot afford to sprain an ankle, step on a thorn or get injured in any way. This could be fatal. She must watch out for Lions and Leopard who consider her a competitor for food in their overlapping territories. Her mortal enemy is the Hyena, a bully who cares little for caution. One that would, at the faintest sound of a Tommy in distress, giggle and bound over to steal it. She would have to relinquish it and from years of experience has learnt to do so without a second thought preferring to go hungry than risk injury.
The sun is just off the horizon when her remarkable eyesight detects a male Tommy resting in the grass. He’s retired and is too casual possibly not caring much any longer. Dropping her ears she takes the initiative wanting surprise more than anything. Shifts into a lope covering fifty yards sights locked-on waiting for the slightest reaction from Tommy. A quick instinctive glance at her temperature gauge, fuel tank, the target and she trips the afterburner. Tens of thousands of years of evolution explode into a blur of thirty five foot strides that brings Tommy fate and hers together within eight seconds. Tommy’s rude awakening is to no avail as the worst nightmare blasts into reality and he feels himself being tripped. Careening to one side out of control he’s sure he’s going to bang his eye on the dirt so raises his head. With her temp gauge red lining she does not miss the anticipated gesture and in acceptance of this gift of the gods is over his back sinking her teeth into his neck.
Panting furiously she pins him tight now knowing she must kill, watching for Hyena and eat as fast as possible. Soon the vultures will be telling the world of her achievement and this will not be a good place to be.
There is little honor in death but I cannot help but feel such admiration for her incredible talent and feat. She’s done what she had to and done it with the skill of a true huntress.

By the time the vulture drop from above she is slinking towards the Kopjes looking back over her shoulder no doubt shocked at their lack of table manners. What she does not know is that from his lookout a Leopard has seen the vultures and her as she heads his way.
Tempted to take advantage of the opportunity he’s already sneaking down towards the grassland but reluctantly realizes that he’ll get scratched up any which way he tries this and that is not a good thing. So up into a tree with a view he vaults. To his astonishment she keeps coming closer and in contradiction to the fact that he’ll never change his spots the transformation into innate devil cat is from within, no longer a choice.
Hell it’s hot and not a drink in sight but her thoughts are of her cubs. Panting she feels a little faint and the lure of shade up ahead will give her time to cool down before she commences her zigzag search for the exact spot she left the cubs by calling for them in a bird like chirp. Vigilant she is without a doubt but who would have thought that the bump on the branch above was anything but that.
Just as she relishes the cool breeze within the shade a small piece of bark tears from the tree and she is startled. Shooting a glance skyward a bolt of sunlight pierces the foliage blinding her but she hears a slicing of the wind and knows something is terribly wrong. In the instant that terror cascades over consciousness she is seared with pain. The sky has fallen on her. She is shattered and in her tears the fate of her cubs is sealed.

They did not get a chance to run with the wind in their faces. It was now up to the Leopard to bring cubs and mother back together again. What a bizarre twist of fate. I, on the other hand, remain, bound by rules, to roam the wilderness eyes wide shut from time to time. That is clearly obvious. ”But what of the soul?”