Punctuated Equilibrium

In the many countless hours I have spent looking at lions in Africa, not once had I seen lions hunt. I must have seen hundreds of lions, thousands of times, during that time and they are certainly not interested in putting on a show like they always do in wildlife films. I once spent six hours with a pride and all they did was sleep — and socialize every now and then. The Okondeka pride is led by one large black-maned lion with seven adult females and two sets of cubs which amounts to an impressive 19 lions. They have a gigantic territory as I have photographed them in an area well over 300 sq. km. It is, perhaps, the most commonly seen pride by the visitors in the Okaukuejo area of the Etosha National Park. However, there are at least two other prides in the area, one at Nebrownii/Gemsbokvlakte and another in the Olifantsbad/Aus area. The smaller prides are only four or five lions strong and perhaps have a smaller territory as well. While I don’t see the Olifantsbad pride often because of the distance from base camp at Okaukuejo, I do come across the Nebrownii pride quite often as they are only a ten minute drive away.

While I see three prides often and nearly every day or so when I’m in Etosha, I’ve never seen any sort of action — except for an occasional feeding frenzy on zebra carcasses. It is apparently not common to see lions hunt, the chief warden of the Okaukuejo area told me that he has only once seen a lion hunt in his thirteen years at the park. And Wendy has only seen lions hunt three times in her ten years of studying in the park. However, both people I talked to do most of their work during the hours of daylight. Do lions in Etosha perhaps prefer to hunt at night?

Seeing lions hunt was definitely NOT on my wishlist when I got a special photography permit to be out in the park for an hour after sunset. My first stop was the Nebrownii waterhole where I waited until the sun had completely set. he waterhole that is so popular for its midday activity wore a deserted look — a wise decision perhaps. There are several culverts under the road near Nebrownii and local pride loves to use them. The Nebrownii pride can be usually seen coming on to the main road to bask as the sun sets, but they were not to be seen on that day. The absolute silence was wonderful, but as sounds, or the lack thereof, cannot be photographed I decided to drive in the twilight to the nearby Gemsbokvlakte. Driving slowly, and without lights, it took me forever to arrive at Gemsbokvlakte. It was quiet, but at least there was a herd of zebra in the distance and countless sprinbok — all looking in my direction. Yes, it’s unnatural for a car to be out and about at that time of the day and I thought it was because of my unusual presence that they were looking in my direction. The quietness of the night was only broken by an electric motor pumping water into the waterhole. Suddenly, there was a loud thud to the left just beyond. I turned on the headlights in haste and all I could see was a big cloud of dust. Something had happened! With excitement, I looked through my binoculars to see a zebra on its back with its legs up in the air. It had to be lions, I thought. Lions! I repositioned my car quickly to point my headlights at them to see three lions on the zebra and a fourth moving in the background. With the powerful headlights on the scene I quickly took some photographs and a short video before moving slightly closer to the scene — as much as the road would allow. Just then the fourth, an adult male, moved all the way around the car and sat right behind the car. Being all alone, and not all that well versed with these lions, I decided that I shouldn’t be sitting in the darkness with my windows rolled down, or my head outside in an effort to look at the lions killing the zebra.

I rolled up the windows. Not that it would make a difference if a lion really wanted to attack me, but more so because of the false sense of security it gave me. The car was switched off and the headlights were now dimmed. There were no drums, adventurous or even tragic music that accompany such scenes in wildlife films. The lions were quiet as they concentrated on their stranglehold and zebras far away went about their usual business of grazing. With the initial excited of seeing my first hunt — all alone and in the dark — wearing out I was unprepared for what I heard next: the horrible sound of a dying animal. The animal struggled to breathe kicking up a dust cloud each time. There was pain in each call of desperation and it coughed blood from the countless fatal wounds. This was not a clean kill. For fifteen minutes the zebra kicked, struggled and cried. Fifteen minutes! While I have seen dozens of dead zebras, I had only seen dying zebras two other times. I had the misfortune of seeing a snared zebra that had to be euthanized once. A perfect gunshot killed the zebra in less than a minute. The natural way of death of a zebra seemed so inhumane compared to what man could do.

The grunts, moans and the struggles of a dying beast much bigger than ourselves is anything but fun to watch. There was no excitement for me anymore to see my ‘first lion hunt’ and I felt more empathy toward the zebra’s pain and the lion’s strength. With darkness overcoming the faint light, the dying sounds could be coming from anyone. There’s no doubt that long ago, and even today sometimes, it could have been a Homo sapiens under the lions. Twenty minutes had passed since I first heard the fall of the zebra and the animal was still hopelessly holding on to its dear life. I wanted to stay but I had to go. I have never broken a law or abused park guidelines and I didn’t intend to even though I must confess it was very tempting to do so. Wishing the zebra a quick death I left the scene in total darkness and returned to camp.

Before dawn the next morning, I went back to the scene with the lion researchers who couldn’t make it to the scene at night. The zebra had lost and had been nearly wholly consumed during the night. There were two lions guarding the carcass and there were about a hundred — and that’s no exaggeration — black-backed jackals waiting for the lions to move away. Springbok and zebra, wanting to drink water, kept their distance from the waterhole. We were parked close to the carcass which was now right next to the water. At first light, a lone bull elephant made its way to the water. Elephants can be a little unpredictable when there’s smell of lions and death around. I looked through the binoculars to see that the elephant was in musth which meant that I had to be even more careful. The comforting fact though is that elephants near Okaukuejo are generally very calm and will stand right next to cars without a worry. However, just to be a little safe I decided to move a little further away from the carcass. I turned the ignition key to realize that I had run down the battery. Yes, if the elephant decided that our car was annoying then the car and its occupants would be at his mercy. The elephant came to the far side of the water and quickly caught the smell of the dead zebra and came to investigate. The bull first chased away the lions and then decided to not drink at the waterhole. It moved away in the direction of another waterhole a few kilometers away. Our relief was only short lived as the bull quickly changed his mind and came right back at us. This time, he trumpeted and chased the lions further away. Still not interested in our car, or the water, the elephant once again decided to go away from the water. And once again our relief was short lived as the bull returned for a third time. This time, however, the silly lions came straight towards our car with the elephant behind them giving all of us in the car a fright. Three times was perhaps enough for the elephant, which finally decided to give up the waterhole and head off into the Mopanes.

By the time the elephant had gone, the park was officially open for safaris and the tourist vehicles started making their way to the waterhole. With our phones not catching signal, we decided that one of us would go back to camp with a tourist and come back with another car to help us jump start the vehicle. With lions guarding a carcass less than twenty feet away, it wasn’t going to be easy. Fortunately, just as we had arranged with a tourist to take us back to camp, I tried to fire up the car one last time and it worked. It always does!