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

As I suspected both pools were now completely submerged by a new river that had broken away and surged around the rear of the lodge grounds. And then I realized that we were completely cut off; the rampaging Nseleni River in front, and a flash flood at the back. This was why the crocs were seeking higher ground. The lodge was in danger of being engulfed.

I vaguely heard the radio cackle. It was Brendan: ‘Come in, come in …’ he was calling repeatedly.

I thumbed the button. ‘Standing by. Sorry, I didn’t hear the radio with the river noise.’

‘We got the Landy out, but only just. I’m afraid we can’t get to you. The river’s jumped its banks.’

‘I know. There’s not much we can do, we’re trapped at the lodge. We’ll have to sit it out here. Stay in touch and let’s conserve batteries.’

‘Roger and out,’ said Brendan and a few minutes later I saw his vehicle lights piercing the gloom a mile or two away as they headed back to the house.

I returned to the lodge where for three nerve-wracking hours I watched as the overflowing river inched closer and closer to the buildings. Thankfully the rain had stopped and just as I thought we would have to start getting my guests onto the lodge roof, the water stopped rising. We were safe. Françoise had found us an empty room. I had a warm shower, then told the night ranger to wake me if the river rose higher.

The next morning I was woken at dawn by Brendan on the radio issuing instructions to staff. The storm was over. Looking out of my window there wasn’t a cloud in the sky … after all that drama last night. The sun was beaming and the river was dropping, but we were still cut off.

‘Hi, Brendan, what’s the damage?’

‘Well, we measured six inches of rain and then the gauge overflowed. The Nseleni broke its banks for five solid miles. Our problem is, it didn’t only take out the sacrificial fence, but another 500 yards on the eastern boundary as well. It’s gone, like it was never there.’

‘Where’s the herd?’

‘No idea. But if I know Nana, she’s taken them to the top of the hills.’

‘I hope so. That fence’s going to take all day to repair and you still have to cross the river somehow to get to it.’

‘Don’t tell me. We’re going to try and string a cable across, as it’s still too wild to swim. I’ll let you know how it goes.’

‘OK, but put some guys on the lookout for the elephants. We need to know where they are.’

‘Will do, out.’

Luckily when the herd was eventually sighted they were on the opposite side of the river to where Brendan was working, unable to access the gap in the fence even if they wanted to. I told Ngwenya to find a high spot and keep an eye on them.

The flash torrent behind the lodge had now dropped and a ranger drove my Land Rover down to rescue us – and not a moment too soon as I got the call I had always dreaded. It was Ngwenya.

‘Mkhulu, Mkhulu! Come in! Come in quickly, the elephants are out. They are outside.’

I grabbed my radio and answered in a flat spin, ‘Where? What’s happened?’

‘On the northern boundary. They’re walking along the fence, but on the wrong side.’

The northern boundary was not too far away and thankfully on high ground. I jumped into the Land Rover and called Musa the fence ranger, instructing him to follow me on the quad bike and we sped off, skidding on the barely passable roads.

We arrived twenty minutes later and I saw Nana right away. But she and the others were inside the fence; what was Ngwenya on about?

Such was my relief that it took me a moment to realize that something was indeed seriously amiss. Both Nana and Frankie were pacing back and forth as agitated as all hell. Every few seconds they would stop and stretch their trunks over the top electric wires and shake the fence poles, the only part they could reach without shocking themselves.

I counted the herd as I always do. There was one missing, but which one? It had to be Mnumzane? No, there he was too, so I counted again.

Then I saw a movement on the other side of the fence that was attracting the herd’s attention. There stood little Mandla, Nana’s firstborn son. He was alone, and from his forlorn demeanour it seemed he had gone from panic into apathy and given up trying to get back to his agitated mother. The fence would hold, for the time being at least, but how were we going to get Mandla back in? The nearestgate was miles away, but a gate would be of little use because it was just as likely that Nana would go out as Mandla come in.

I drove closer and called out to Nana to let her know I was there. She looked over at me, staring hard. My mind sped, trying to find solutions. If we didn’t get Mandla inside soon, the herd would break through the fence. There was no question about that; an elephant mother will do whatever it takes to ensure the safety of her babies.

Perhaps we could cut the fence, but then we would have the same problem as with a gate. I got out of the Landy, lit a cigarette and pondered the problem. How could we get Mandla in without letting the herd out? I looked at the electric wires and an idea started to form. If we cut the fence itself and then also the middle and bottom electric wires, Mandla could get in, leaving the top live wire intact to prevent the adults from going out. The question was, would the top electric wire alone be enough to keep Nana and Frankie at bay?

Nana shook the fence