Elephants and Leopards

I'm afraid that things are going to get slightly out of chronological order because I'd rather relate the events of this weekend whilst they are still fresh in my mind. Photos will have to follow.

We went to South Luangwa for our third and last time. We were staying at a camp deep in the bush about 3 hours from the main lodge - the one we stayed in the first time for 1 night, which had an indoor loo...

Not wanting to miss the evening drive on Friday, we planned to set off in the hospital car at 7am. Unfortunately our driver thought that 7am was a good time to be checking the oil and water on said vehicle and rather patronisingly told me that it was better these things were done before a long journey. It is indeed better, it would have been even better if you'd done them the night before.

Anyway, we still arrived at Mfuwe Lodge in time for lunch and then the drive to the camp. We had to enter the lodge by the back because an elephant was eating the wild mangoes at the front door. They have taken to walking all the way through reception at times to get to the mangoes.

After lunch we jumped in the car with our guide, Willy. Although the idea is to make good time and hence drive quickly, the car did stop when there were interesting things to see. The first being a very baby elephant with a massive ball of mud hanging from the end of its tail. It looked like a Christmas decoration.

Then Geoff fell asleep. He was so asleep that he slumped into the middle seat between us and woke up abruptly asking what had happened. Then he slumped out of the car and it was decided he should sit in the middle to prevent premature exits. This he did until he suddenly jumped up holding his thumb. I was aware of a clattering noise and a dull pain in my shoulder and the back of my head. Something had flown up and hit the side of the car and us. The thumb was grazed but not broken - we carried on. Geoff stopped sleeping.

By the side of the road I spotted a shape under a tree. We were travelling too quickly for me to form the words to shout before we were alongside. It was a Marshall Eagle - the biggest in Zambia and it took off alongside the car as we passed. Geoff could have touched it it was so close to his head. The next excitement were bush pigs (only seen 3 or 4 times a year by these camp staff) and a Hartebeest.

When we arrived the camp manager wanted to know if we were still keen for the night drive, given all the driving we'd done that day. We said Yes! And that we would want our tub filling - remember Nat getting it filled for us last time?

Bar two exceptional Leopard spottings and the company of 2 slightly odd old Americans, the drive was uneventful. As was the walk the next morning. It was just Geoff and I because one of the ladies couldn't walk very well.

After brunch we decided we needed a nap (we were up at 5am) and to let the water in the tub warm up. I looked out of the 'window' for which you could read wall, as it is all screen, to discover a large male elephant coming round our fence into the garden. The back half of him was pleased to see me. The front half was more suspicious and he was sniffing the air with his trunk. I said hello. I reasoned (although the manager did mock me later) that I was stood in the shade, he was in the bright sun, and that elephants have poor eyesight and it's better not to startle them. If I made noise he would know I was there and could retreat if necessary. He moved further into the garden and started eating a tree. I opened the screen door gingerly to take some photos without screen in them. Next he moved into next door's garden - we could see his back and the top of his head over the fence. At one point the fence was dented by a falling Mopani tree (probably done by an elephant). In the gap a large eye appeared suddenly and looked at us suspiciously.

After a few seconds the elephant decided to return. They are surprisingly quick, even at turning about, and he was very quickly back in our garden. For the first time he was walking directly at us. My subconscious told me it wasn't happy - I think there'd been a slight shake of the head or flapping of the ears (both signs of annoyance) - we held our breath. I reached forward to close the door - an action that would almost certainly have saved my life against a lion or leopard or hyena and almost certainly made bugger all difference to an elephant. After a few seconds the elephant decided he was bored of scaring humans and walked back out of the garden never to be seen again. So we spent 2 happy hours in the bath reading our books.

On the night drive we saw another 2 leopards and discussed that we were almost certainly not going to see Lion or Hyena this trip now. We had been too lucky already.

Sunday morning we did another walk. We stopped a few metres from a 6 foot high bank down to a river tributary. It was a beautiful view and we looked about happily. Then the guide said 'Lion' and sure enough, in the middle of the water walking straight towards us at a distance of 50 metres or so was a lion. We stood still and I found I wasn't scared - clearly my subconscious believes the lion is more scared of me than I am of him. It was a cub anyway, about 18 months old - the size of a very large dog. The guide believed it was one of 2 that were orphaned after their mother died. She walked all the way across, disappeared from view behind the bank and then came up immediately in front of us at 10m, looked at us and lay down. She was very thin. After a few minutes her brother crossed a little further away and the two wandered off together. We walked in the opposite direction and found a fallen tree to have some juice and a cookie on.

So far so exciting, right? Indeed. In the evening we were the only guests in the camp. The night drive was quiet. I had cursed it by saying that we had seen so much we didn't deserve to see any more. For the first half an hour we saw only 2 bush buck. I intended to ask Mishek (our guide) at sundowners whether he'd ever had a completely animal-free drive. Up ahead was an elephant. It looked angry, as it was shaking its head. But we couldn't see what it was about, there was a bush in the way.

We drove around the bush, only to find the rest of the family and nothing more. The elephant took exception to us and suddenly charged the car on Geoff's side. It had its ears out, trunk down and was trumpeting phenomenally. It stopped 10m from the car and turned to walk back. I was kicking myself that I didn't have the video handy - can you imagine how great that would have been? Just as I think this, of course, she charges again. I can't believe I've missed it twice! I know the theory about something rare happening more than once in quick succession because the conditions are right. So I grabbed the camera post haste.

The family was departing and it transpired the elephant was female. I'd been assuming that the irrational anger was a male thing. I know that all the males reading this think I'm a fool. Perhaps, but it was quite aggressive with it! Definitely more of a male thing! The guide reverses a little and nothing bad happens but he's hesitant to try and leave because he says they can follow you. Instead of sitting steady he follows the elephants round the next bush. This was a mistake, probably his second, but that's by the by.

The elephants are now on my side of the car and I have the video running. She charges again. Straight at me. She comes within 5m and the video drops as I move my hand. I don't remember what action I was proposing to take. She withdrew. But before I knew it she came again. And closer. This time my hand drops faster. The trainee guide in the seat behind me is pulling my hair to get me to move to the middle of the car. He is clearly petrified. It's an unnecessary gesture. I'm already moving, I don't care if I'm sitting on cameras, binoculars, sun glasses - they are a small price to pay to get a foot further away from the murderously angry elephant.

Mishek has engaged first gear and we are off. The elephant, as he predicted, is following us. The film just shows ears through the fly screen at the back. The car accelerated hard. I stop videoing to hold on. I don't want to survive an elephant attack only to die in an RTA. He swings the car round to face the elephant and now we are heading for a head on with it. He stops the car and cuts the engine. The elephant doesn't stop. She still doesn't stop. She still doesn't stop. There is no sound in the whole world apart from her footfall. The elephant didn't stop until it had made a very strong connection with the bull bars on the front of the car. Her trunk scratched the paint of the bonnet and dented it, in a sideways flick she knocked off the aerial for the radio. We probably can't contact the camp now.

You could hear a pin drop, we were all holding our breath. What was she going to do? Thankfully she was tusk less so she had no leverage to roll us. She remained with her mouth pressed against the car for what was probably 10 seconds, but felt more like 30 seconds. Then she stood up again. I reached to start the camera - the buttons are small but OK normally, with a heavy dose of adrenaline making my hands shake it was nigh on impossible to turn on. The footage begins again when she's backed a couple of metres from the car. Over the next 2 minutes she slowly edges back to her family and two others that have joined them to watch the furore.

When we are comfortable she'd gone the guys picked up the aerial and drove us away to the river bank. 'Would you like a G&T to take away the anxiety?' asks the trainee guide. 'Yes'

There followed a romantic dinner for two on our decking, a drive back to the lodge, a couple of swims and a drive home with a fat baby (not mine), but none of that is particularly interesting after a near death experience.

Lesson of the weekend: Lions are not scary, Elephants are scary!

[Mishek accelerated to give himself room to turn the car. He did this because he knew the elephant would just follow us forever (or more likely until we ran out of road) otherwise. The Land Rover is also far more vulnerable at the rear as it lacks the bull bars and she would have hit directly into the seating. So the only strategy left was to turn and face her, even though she wasn't going to stop.

Also, because I asked this, he was scared too. Nothing like that has ever happened to him before. I dare say he'll keep a slightly greater distance from angry elephants in the future...]