Dumela Botswana

Emerald pools of water glistened as our Bush pilot manouevred the small plane over the Okavango Delta. The palm trees are the most surprising sight, unexpected in the landlocked area. Botswana unfolds as we eagerly look for signs of the teeming wildlife we expect to encounter on ground. As a safari veteran of many African countries, this was a highly anticipated trip. It’s meant to be the ultimate safari lover’s dream. Botswana markets itself as high value and low volume. In the six days we spent in the Delta, it became quite apparent. The government is strict about regulating the safari experience from the number of tents each camp can have (no more than ten), to the exact layout and other logistic details. At times, as we traversed the length and breadth of the game parks, we were the only jeep. There are none of the combis and jeeps that descend on a Mara sighting like vulture hordes or jeeps in South Africa that keep track of their animals and are in constant radio contact about animal whereabouts. Rangers in Botswana do not even carry guns. The total non-intervention policy, makes the Botswana experience a truly wild one; from tracking, to sighting, to observing the animals. 

Touchdown at Chitabe Lediba is exciting. The safari novice with us is in ecstasy as she spots her first wild creature; a warthog. By the time we sight giraffes, zebras and elephants, she believes she’s seen it all. Little did any of us know, the treats in store for us.

Botswana delivered and I’m spoilt for future safaris.

“I want to see wild dogs,” was the injunction I gave our tour operator. After twenty plus years of safari, I had only seen the painted creatures once. I needed to rectify this imbalance. A refreshing gin and tonic, a quick bath and after satiating our hunger pangs, we headed out on our first drive. If only I could bottle that special smell of dust and vegetation, animal urine, poop and flowering shrubs. There is something heady and intoxicating as the wind blows our hair, the sun hits our face and the animals attract our vision. On drives, like children we point out creatures, a kudu here, an impala there. And look, fluttering from one branch to another, the lilac breasted roller, my favourite African bird. The majestic elephants, with single minded determination, shake palm trees, trying to get at the nuts. 

Suddenly, without warning, our ranger swung into a clearing. Confusion knotted my brow. Where were we going.? And then I heard the twittering. My first drive led me straight to a wild dog den! A pack of 13 adults and a litter of twelve pups bound up and down an old warthog den. Some adults lay in the shade, uninterested as others tried to calm the excitable pups who played, jumped, fought and tugged at our heartstrings. As dusk approached, the adults got ready. As one of the most successful of the predators, wild dogs need to hunt twice a day when they have pups. But each time the adults tried to leave, the pups held them back. They followed the adults and refused to listen to reason. Pups are an encumbrance to the adults because they are vulnerable to other predators. It took much back and forth, plenty of false starts before nine of the thirteen could leave the den. What a sight as the hunting dogs run, in formation, their intent clear. A herd of elephants trumpeted and mock charged but undeterred, the dogs ran on. By then, light was fading fast. The dogs were unsuccessful and in all probability stayed out that night. We enjoyed our sundowner, listening to frogs croaking and the sounds of night settling about us, as a hyena loped past. A delicious dinner and lots of Amarula later, it was time for bed.

Five more drives to go.

Before the crack of dawn, our group snuggled under the wool lined ponchos and headed out. Fresh Lion tracks indicated much activity around the camp site during the nocturnal hours. We headed for the den. And just in time. The adults were returning after a successful hunt. Nature is amazing. The dogs need to return to the den as soon as they finish gorging on a kill. Once back, the pups initiate regurgitation by poking around inside the mouths of the adults. While there is only one alpha female who bears and nurses the pups, all the adults take on responsibility of feeding. The sound reaches a frenzy as the excited pups encourage the adults to release the food in their bowels. Pups fight over morsels of meat and some of the stronger ones, grab a chunk and run away to enjoy it. The poor runt gets small bits of meat and often nothing at all. For a while, the only sounds are that of munching meat and cracking bones. 

We left the animals to their feast and meandered along; giraffes, zebras, more elephants and lots of impala. We rounded a corner and drove into a herd of wild buffalo. Part of the big five, the fierce creatures were leaving a water body. The buffalo stared at us for a while and then continued chewing grass as they moved along. Oxpeckers were removing ticks while their tails flicked insects away. Our ranger observes vulture activity and we decide to investigate. Bingo. Lionesses feeding on a kudu. These lionesses had a litter of cubs, but probably left them in a safe spot while they hunted. We followed one who went to bring the cubs. She travelled over a long distance, calling and searching but to no avail. Later that evening, we returned to the kill and found the cubs along with a young sub adult female. As humans, we have more intense feelings of despair and relief than the animals do. 

That afternoon, I washed off the dust of the delta and warmed my chilled bones, with a hot outdoor shower. A clash of wood alerted me to some unusual activity. I was transfixed as two male kudus decided to lock horns in front of my shower area. What a display as they twisted and turned, a dance of dexterity. I was afraid they would stay locked in place because neither wanted to give up. Two other males just stood by the side, nonchalant. My camera whirred as I tried to capture their movements. And just as suddenly, they stopped and the four continued their graceful walk past my tent. The bush; at any time, without any warning, something happens to enthrall and engage.

One of the best things about going on game drives is observing birds. Big bird, small bird, brown bird, red bird. A saddle bill stork walking daintily by the river. Or a grey heron swooping down. A group of chattering African Jacana or pygmy goose swimming along, flashing orange. High above a Bateleur circles or closer to shore, a Fish Eagle strikes. A pied Kingfisher hovers above water and darts down to grab some food. A shimmer of metallic blue from the black coat of the glossy starling. And apart from the visual sightings, are the melodious sounds. A Grey Lawrie shouting ‘go away, go away’. Or the unusual sound of the Woodland Kingfisher and the White browed Robin Chat or the shriek of the Hadeda Ibis. Equally captivating is observing a herd of breeding elephants frolic in the river. They drink water, spray water on themselves and cover their bodies with mud to cool off. Young calves have a great time in the water though they take care to stay well within the protection zone of the adults. 

By our penultimate day, we had still not seen cheetah or leopard, which was disappointing. The rangers assured us of a healthy population but they were playing hide and seek. All we saw was a frightened jackal trying to eat a leopard kill. The cheetah is my favourite creature. I was determined to will a sighting. Luck was on our side and what a sighting we had! We decided to try a new area. Our guide spotted a cheetah from the road. Excitement knew no bounds as we bumped along the open grass to get to the creature. It was triple the joy because the cheetah mum had three cubs. We watched as they played around their mum. She was obviously looking to hunt because she kept observing and moving ahead. Each time she moved, the cubs followed. If she stopped, they did. Those misbehaved wild dogs pups could learn a thing or two from these cats! We had spotted impala and it appeared the cheetah had too. All of a sudden she bounded. The cubs came to a complete standstill and did not follow mum this time. Our ranger pressed the accelerator as we held on to dear life as well as  camera equipment, trying to keep pace with the fastest animal in the world. A cheetah in attack mode is one of the best sights ever. She races, muscles moving in perfect undulation, sleek body fluid, the ground disappearing beneath her feet. Alarm calls ensued as the impala were alerted to the charging predator. The cheetah struck and one hapless impala lost the battle of life. Cheetahs do not have strong jaws or canines so they hold on to the neck and suffocate the poor creature. Once the impala had been successfully strangled the cheetah hid it in the bushes. The end was still not in sight. Since they kill in open land, cheetahs with cubs have to hide the kill or stronger predators steal it. Vultures are the first to follow a kill and only abandon a search if they cannot see the kill. 

The cheetah had to bring her cubs to the kill, across the dangerous open stretch of land. She called out to them and after what seemed like ages, the three cubs finally made their appearance. The mum eventually led them to the bush. She needed to recover from her sprint, which takes a while. The cubs relaxed against the carcass until their mother was ready for them. Finally, the cheetah opened up the belly and two of the cubs stuck their faces into the fresh meat. Flecks of red painted their face as they looked up, once in a while. As we sat in our jeeps, observing the activity, I noticed a creature walking up. Our jeep was between this creature and the bush. It was an Nkwe, leopard! What a stroke of luck for us but the poor cheetahs were in for a hard time. The excitement on our jeep reached a crescendo. We could barely stop from screaming out loud. The cheetah family was unaware. The leopard was also wary. It was a female who knew there was a kill but was possibly unsure what animal had killed. If it was a lion or a hyena, the leopard would never dare to take it on. The leopard lay on its belly, slowly stalking the bush and moving forward. When the leopard realized it was a cheetah, its body language changed. The cheetah had still not spotted the leopard. The wind was against the cheetah and in the leopard’s favour. As soon as the cheetah realized there was a leopard in the house, chaos broke out. The three cubs dispersed just as the leopard attacked. A leopard will always take its chances and cheetah cubs are easy prey. The cheetah drew the leopard away from her cubs. Each time the leopard tried to circle in their direction, the cheetah came in between. Eventually, the leopard got tired and could not match the cheetah’s stamina. It abandoned the chase and returned to the impala. That was a lost cause for the cheetah. Once the leopard arrived on the scene, all her hard work was for naught. 

The cheetah needed to find her cubs before another predator got to them. The mother called for a long time but no babies appeared. We were frantic with worry. Meanwhile, the leopard was happily indulging in impala meat. The three cubs had dispersed in different directions. Two stayed together and one had strayed. The mother followed that one but gave up and looked for the other two. We followed at a distance, hoping and praying for a miracle. Our guide spotted them. All three cubs had found each other and were huddled under a tree. They were probably petrified. If only we could lead the cheetah to them but this is nature. It has to happen in an organic manner. We waited. The mother searched. The cubs did not budge. After a while, she spotted them and walked towards the tree. The cubs did not move. Once she got to them, the cheetah just lay down in the shade. The cubs did not clamber over her. The mother did not lick them. There was no happy reunion. As humans, it was intensely disappointing for us. But animals do not have the same form of anxiety. In fact, this mum had already lost two of her litter of five. Animals are resigned to the vagaries of nature. We need to learn from them. We left the cheetah family. What a morning. Like a Disney movie unfolding in front of our eyes. Could Chitabe outdo this? Could any camp outdo such a sighting? 

We returned to the dogs for our final drive. Dust shrouded the den. We realized some adults were indulging in housekeeping. The den is full of poop and every once in a while, needs to be cleaned out. Wild dogs are social creatures. Everyone looks out for everyone else. No one has an assigned duty. As and when they feel the urge they clean. This time, the pups got distracted and the adults managed to leave the on time for the evening hunt. It could have helped there were three jeeps blocking the view of the pups. But it’s impossible to say. The dogs were successful and killed an impala. Unfortunately, the swamp came between us and the animals. We could not cross because the jeep would get stuck. The dogs did and on their heels a pack of hyena did too. We enjoyed sundowners and heard the activity of eating, hyenas, dogs and caught them as they made their way back to the den to regurgitate and feed the young. We sat under the starry night sky, reliving the glorious three days in the Delta. What a perfect way to end the last evening. 

As the plane lifted off the next day, we prepared to go deeper into the delta. Tubu Tree would be a different terrain and we prepared for more soul satisfying brushes with nature.
In terms of quality, Chitabe is much better. However, Tubu had many redeeming points, The camp itself is more luxurious and the food is incredible. And we spent our first evening keeping company with a young leopard brother and sister, pair. The mother was obviously hunting and the cubs had been told to stay put. The cubs played, climbed trees, jumped from branches, yawned, scratched, pawed each other and settled on to a branch waiting for mummy to return.  She didn’t but we did, the next morning. The cubs were still on the tree. There was no sign of mummy. Meanwhile, baboons made their way to the area. The leopard cubs were in a vulnerable position. The mother must have heard their calls because we left for a while and when we returned, there was no sign of the cubs and just fresh marks in the sand; mummy had taken her cubs and vanished.  We tracked them through thorny bushes and on open sandy tracts of land. We found prints all over the place, even had a flat tire but no leopard showed up. In fact, the mother and cubs simply disappeared. We did not see them again.

On one drive we saw two male lions. Brothers who had just taken over a territory. They had killed a zebra and if their hanging bellies and fast breaths were any indication, they had gorged themselves. We stayed in our jeeps, observing the lions and sipping sundowners. Around us the sky was stained pink and orange and slowly turned purple. One brother was no longer interested in food and decided to move on. We followed him. The other stayed put, guarding the carcass from some annoying vultures. As it moved, the lion roared. We stayed a safe distance until our jeep was brought to an abrupt halt. We had a flat tire. There was a lion ten feet ahead of us, sitting on the road. Another one was potentially creeping up behind us. We were sandwiched in between! There was no question of us getting out but the guides disembarked and as we trained the night lamp on the lion, they changed the wheel. It was a surreal experience. We were encouraged to chat, make some noise, so the lion is aware we are in the area. Lions are actually scared of humans and would not do anything adverse. At least we were made to believe this. In due course, the wheel was fixed and the lion decided to cooperate and wait until it was done, before moving on! The other brother was still being a lazy lion. In fact, a couple of days later, the two brothers decided to show us their might. They began a roaring rendition. One would start, the other would follow. Imagine darkness all around. You have no idea what creatures lurk. And out of this darkness, the most fear provoking roar, in unison. The lions had an agenda. They had to mark their territory and roar to inform other lions this was their land and not to do anything foolish like take it over. 

Tubu Tree has a wonderful water channel and on one drive, we took a boat on to the water. While we don’t really see much predator activity, the bird life is teeming and we saw Red Lichwe, hippos and crocodiles. Elephants also enjoy crossing the channels and there were a few scattered in between the tall grass. The Hide is another amazing place at Tubu, where we had breakfast one morning and enjoyed some wild moments. Like a vervet baby being terrorized by a baboon, while it’s helpless parents looked on from another tree. We saw baby warthogs scared to cross a channel of water, while the mother stood on the other side urging them to cross. Two elephant troops approached the water body and there was much trumpeting and stamping of feet as one took umbrage to the others presence. The setting is perfect for a leopard or lion to stroll up and disperse all the animals. There is so much happening around us, it’s difficult to take it all in. Every sense is on high alert.

The last day of safari is always depressing. As we prepared to leave the Delta, I make a promise to myself. I will be back. Botswana is like a tick embedded in my skin. It will be difficult to remove. Dumela Botswana. Go Siame. Its hello and not goodbye.