The animal of the day is elephants. They have dominated the watering hole all day. They’ve chased off the impalas and warthogs and even some of each other. Since it’s the dry season, the watering holes have dried up, so the animals have to travel to the channel for water, which is about a three-mile journey from here. The camp supplies the water for the one here, and the dominant elephants position themselves right where the fresh water is coming out of the pipe to feed into the watering hole. Hence, unless they are off foraging, the other animals are relegated to the muddy, shallow water that the elephants have stomped around and pooped in.
Not long into our morning drive, Gully, our most excellent guide, picked up on lion tracks (two large males, in fact). We knew we were coming upon something dead because of the smell and because three jackals were hanging around waiting for something. We soon came upon a lion feasting on an elephant who had most likely been brought down sometime last night, according to Gully. The elephant’s organs were cleaned out (they are the first to go), and the lion was snacking on the thigh. The lion’s stomach was hanging mighty low to the ground before he finally sauntered away. Then the wily little jackals appeared, but their meal was the most stressful one I’ve ever seen. They’d take one quick and nervous bite before snapping their heads back up to scan the grasses.
Toward the end of our morning drive, we came upon a herd of elephants, a few of whom flapped their ears, raised their trunks, and snorted at us. Gully said since their ears were out to make themselves look bigger and not pinned back, they were “mock charging” us, so not to worry. I trust Gully, but I felt extremely small and vulnerable.
After brunch, I went for a run back and forth along the cabin trail, the only place we’re allowed to walk without a guide, but I had to stay on the lookout for elephants because one side of the camp has several corridors the elephants have created and use regularly on their way to and from the watering hole. I was up to about a mile and a half and had begun to zone out when I head branches crack and a big snort. I looked up to see a mama elephant about 30 feet from me, flapping her ears at me and looking rather displeased. I quietly turned around and walked to the the nearest tent, which happened to be my own. I emerged a bit later and decided to confine my run to the side of camp without elephant corridors.
Mind the elephants.
My Corner of the Village 