YOUR GUIDE TO AFRICAN SAFARI TRIPS AND TOURS AVAILABLE FROM DURBAN NORTH  

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African Safari Trips

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Mikes story continues ... Then she started her calling and I told them I thought she had cubs nearby. I was sure of it and a moment later I was proved right when she wandered off cautiously into the bush to return after twenty minutes, trailed by a litter of four cubs of about three months old. I remember the look on Alec's face. He acted as if I was some sort of seer and, thinking of it now, I have to laugh. Anyone who calls the bush home would have known about the cubs. Roset surprised me then though. I didn't think she'd be happy to watch what came next, but she was more rapt than anyone when the cheetah began to open up the carcass for the cubs to reach the most tender parts before she tucked into a most deserving meal for herself. Even the way that she positioned herself between the three approaching buffalo and her cubs had our two companions whispering amazed exclamations. Afterwards, Alec asked me, "How can you take it so calmly?" I suppose it seems as if I do because I have seen it all so many times that I don't react outwardly anymore. It always fills me with wonder and appreciation though. A sort of quiet knowing. There's something tremendously contenting in the order of things. You know what will come and then it does. Somehow the world makes sense again. That was also one of the african safari trips where we saw mating giraffe and had the close encounter with the pride of Umfolozi lion. On the last night we had one of Paddy's amazing bush feasts as we listened to the distant calls of a spotted Hyena. No wonder Alec wants to write a book. His letter also speaks about the mock charge of the elephant. He didn't believe me at the time, terrified by the animal's formidable display. The thing is, one has to study the body language, paying special attention to the positioning of the elephant's trunk and how the tail comes up into an erect position, parallel to the ground. There is also a certain pitch in the trumpeting - all indications of the mood of the animal. You have to respect the wilds though. Nothing is cast in stone in the jungle and even with the fantastic order of things, you still have to expect the unexpected, so I was careful to keep us at a safe enough distance. People ask me why I do this. The city folk who haven't been on safari, that is - and I don't just mean a commercial trek across the country, but honest-to-goodness, real african safari trips. They can't understand that to me there is nothing else as rewarding as the bush. There's a quiet thrill in being able to identify every type of bird on sight, or just by its call and knowing all the little details of its existence. - Over 950 species, we have here, all with their own unique place in the great scheme of things. From the tall Ostrich to the tiny Pygmy Kingfisher; from the regal Martial eagle to the lowly common little quail. It makes me think of the first time that Paddy and I watched a Fish Eagle together. It was at Lake St Lucia and the eagle was swooping down to snatch a fish close to the surface. The strength and agility was incredible as it carried away a fish of almost the same weight with such powerful wing beats and with such grace and beauty. Then there's the experience of seeing two lions mating, their endless stamina as they copulate every fifteen minutes for hours on end, with the endless snarling and swinging of paws as they claw themselves into a sexual frenzy. Except for the old ones. The bush doesn't respect the old and I still get a lump in my throat when I think of one particular old lion. Don't ask why he affected me so much, but the memory has always stood out for some reason. He still had the dignity of keeping his head high despite the horrible condition of his body, too old and thin to make another kill to sustain himself. In his face I could still sense the aura of majesty, the king of beasts. Now this once splendid animal was reduced to a defenceless creature of skin and bone. Where were the hyenas? Perhaps close by waiting for their old adversary to weaken even further before, suddenly and savagely, overwhelming this once proud monarch of the veld. I was thankful when we left him gazing into the sky with eyes blinding with the ravages of time. As I said, for me this still stands out as a very sad yet thought provoking moment. Like the other old lion, watching on the edge of a passionate mating scene, hoping no doubt that the lucky lion would drop his guard with exhaustion so that he could join in the pro-creation activities, but no such luck as the dominant male chased and scolded him whenever he ventured too near. I tend to spend a lot of time musing. The bushveld has that effect on one. Sometimes I compare the intricacies of human nature and behaviour with that of their wild counterparts. Now there I could tell you some stories! But that's for another time. Perhaps when we're sitting around a campfire together one night, listening to the sounds of the bush and feeling its pulse throbbing through the earth. If you would like a complimentary, easy-to-print copy of the above storytime, please take a moment to sign up for our free, no spam email newsletter and we will send you a copy per return, with all of Mike's contact details for your convenience.

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