Stalking lions in the Botswanan bush
In June I spent a fantastic month in the Tuli Wilderness of Botswana. An isolated nature reserve in east of the country, it is one of the few places left in Africa where truly wild animals can be seen. Bordering on the Limpopo and Motloutse rivers, it offers amazing views, diverse wildlife and a spectacular experience.
On my seventh day in Tuli, I woke up late, having been up at 4 AM the night before listening for lion calls (I don’t remember hearing any; it’s a horrible time of day regardless of where you are in the world). I scrambled to get ready for the early morning game count. shivering a little in the early morning chill. Game counts are carried out on four different routes, in both directions, every month. Those surveyed include antelope, warthog, buffalo, zebra, monkeys, baboons and more, but not elephants and predators, as these are counted separately. Varied game data helps to build up information for scientists and researchers studying how various species in the area live and interact, which in turn feeds back to the Tuli management overseeing the environment.
The McDonalds of Africa, impala are one of the species surveyed on game counts
We had counted a fair number of species before receiving word over the radio from another group: fresh lion tracks had been spotted near the other camp. Even for our guide Stuart, who has been working in the bush for years and seen lions hundreds of times, this was an exciting prospect. Josh, Ladina (my fellow volunteers) and I voted to postpone the game count for another day, and we headed off in search of the kitties.
With the help of expert trackers Johannes and Christoph, the six of us were soon on the tracks of the lions, which seemed to be that of two young males and a female, known to roam through the area from time to time. In the soft sand near camp the spoor were clear enough that I could follow them, but we soon headed into the rocky foothills, where signs are much harder to spot. Our amazing trackers were able to pick up on the tiniest scratches and disturbances in the dirt, showing us the way as we headed up hill, the freshness of the tracks indicating we were not more than a few hours behind.
Chris sweeping the area for tracks
Cresting a small hill in the mid-morning heat, we were constantly scanning the dense mopane bushes around us for tell-tale glimpses of tawny fur – it was possible the beasts were dozing in the shade after a busy night, and it is inadvisable to stumble on a lion at any time. Though lions will often flee from humans as they do not recognise our scent as prey, if caught unawares they attack in self-defence, and a young or wild lion may do something unpredictable at any time. Passing a set of parched impala bones, perhaps from a lion kill long ago, we saw several patches in the ground where the beasts had lain very recently, before the trio moved off. Several times we stopped, pricking our ears at the sound of shuffling rocks and far off noises, but nothing came to fruition.
Unfortunately we ran out of time, having followed the animals on foot for two and a half hours already that morning. Disappointed, we walked back towards the track, where another guide would pick us up and drive us back to camp. Had they smelt our scent on the breeze? Heard us creeping down the loose hillside? Were we just too far behind? Not for the first time the lions in Tuli had eluded us.
Heading back to camp, we were disheartened at having missed our quarry by such a small margin, but nonetheless flush with adrenaline at having stalked one of Africa’s most deadly mammals through the bush, with but a single rifle for protection. Suddenly, Johannes gestured excitedly to the bushes on the left, and the car stopped. Lying down just two metres from the road was the female lioness, who we had been following all morning, supremely unfazed by the gaggle of tourists and guides staring at her from the battered land cruiser.
I say…is…is that a lion?