The Elephant Whisperer: My Life With the Herd in the African Wild by Lawrence Anthony (the ebook reader txt) 📕

him David was out alone. Bheki shook his head and clicked his tongue. I could see he was also worried.

‘We have to go to him,’ I said. ‘Please get my rifle and bring plenty of bullets.’

I wasn’t looking forward to the march in the dark but there was a rough outside dirt track running parallel to the fence for much of the way where there was little danger as the big cats were inside the reserve. If we were lucky we would find David and the hole the lions had dug.

Then we heard it again: that spine-chilling roar. It was close, perhaps a mile or two away. By now I was acutely alarmed – the lions must have scented the tractor, but would they also smell the human driver? And just how hungry were they? They may not have fed for several days.

The answering roar came back – this time even closer.

‘Bheki, we must move faster,’ I urged.

The Zulu grunted. He was as concerned as I was. David was extremely popular on Thula Thula.

Gripping our rifles tight, we broke into a jog – well, asfast as you can go in the darkness. Even with flashlights it is always difficult out in the bush at night. Neither of us noticed our numerous trips and falls over rocks and bush roots. There was one aim only: to get to David before the lions did.

About two miles later we saw a dim flickering light and to our intense joy it was David at a gap in the fence with Gunda Gunda chugging away close by.

I was about to yell a warning, but he beat me to it.

‘Lion! Big ones!’ he shouted, then pointed to the hole. ‘They came in there. I left the tractor running to keep them away. Their spoor is all over the place.’

Relief washed over me. This guy was indestructible. ‘Leave the tractor here for the night and walk back with us on the outside path.’

We closed the hole where the lions had dug under the fence pushing up the wires and shorting the electrical strands, which got the power up effectively trapping the lion in the reserve, and walked home. Tomorrow would be an interesting day.

Telephone etiquette in the bush allows calls only after dawn. The sun was barely up before I had the Parks Board section ranger on the line.

‘Have you lost a couple of lions?’ I asked.

‘Ja,’ he replied. ‘Two got out day before yesterday and have been causing chaos around a couple of villages. They’re on the move, going your way actually. Have you seen them?’

‘They’re both on Thula,’ I replied. ‘Do you want to come and get them?’

‘We’re on our way. Try and keep tabs on them until we get there.’

All the reserve staff were told to be extra cautious and the work teams were sent home. None of our employees had experience with lions so we weren’t taking any chances.

While we were waiting for them to arrive I went out tofind the herd. I picked up their tracks and shortly afterwards found fresh elephant dung within yards of fresh lion scat. They had crossed paths with the big cats but there was no real risk as an elephant herd is far too formidable for lions, however hungry they were. Provided of course the youngsters didn’t wander off.

I couldn’t find them and went back to the house. Standing on the front lawn staring out into the bush, I remembered a harrowing incident last year when a hunting lioness charged Craig Reed, the senior ranger at Umfolozi. He was out on horseback with his five-months pregnant wife, Andrea, when the giant cat suddenly charged out of a reed bed at them. Craig’s horse was spooked and bolted, but the lioness had already targeted Andrea and gave chase. An expert rider, she galloped through the bush at full speed. Scenting the danger, the horse needed no encouragement and was in full flight when Andrea’s foot suddenly slipped out the stirrup and she started sliding out of the saddle.

As she fell she somehow managed to grab hold of the stirrup and was dragged through the bush as the horse galloped on with the lioness in hot pursuit. She watched horrified as the lioness got closer and closer until it was at her feet, and then, resigned to her fate, she let go. Amazingly, the lioness jumped right over her sprawling body, and got her claws into the horse.

By now Craig had managed to turn his horse and frantically rode up firing shots into the air, scaring the lioness off. Thankfully Andrea was OK, although badly bruised and shaken, and in true frontierswoman tradition, gave birth to a fine baby boy four months later.

The moral of the story is always to treat these magnificent creatures with absolute respect. I pondered this over a hurried breakfast and then met up with Bheki and his men to follow the spoor from the hole where the big cats had come in. But Thula Thula’s hard clay soil makes trackingextremely difficult when it’s dry and after a few hours the trail had disappeared altogether. There also weren’t any vultures circling above, which meant the lions hadn’t made a kill last night. That would have made our lives much easier.

The Parks Board arrived and we searched the reserve for two days, alternately picking up and losing the trail until a fence check revealed a big hole under the wire. They were gone. We later heard that they had returned to Umfolozi.

A few weeks later I was in Umfolozi on a night drive, when I asked the driver to pull over for a ‘pit stop’, having drunk several cups of coffee. It was pitch-black and as I opened the door he said casually, ‘Better check first,’ and flashed a spotlight through the open door.

There lying in the long grass, just ten yards from where I was getting out, were two big male lions. I swear they were the same youngsters that had been on our