By Roxanne Reid
I was miffed. My travel companion had been slow that morning so we were twenty minutes late leaving Twee Rivieren camp in the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park. Twenty minutes can be crucial at daybreak; the difference between spotting sunrise specials like leopard, brown hyena and caracal … and nix, nada, nothing. So the air was thick with tension.
I was miffed. My travel companion had been slow that morning so we were twenty minutes late leaving Twee Rivieren camp in the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park. Twenty minutes can be crucial at daybreak; the difference between spotting sunrise specials like leopard, brown hyena and caracal … and nix, nada, nothing. So the air was thick with tension.
But less than a kilometre from the gate, we spotted a brown hyena. ‘You see? We wouldn’t have seen that if we’d been on time,’ he crowed.
We had barely focused the binos on its shaggy fur when it took off like an unbalanced rocket for the dunes. Two lionesses strolled in from stage left, past where it had been a just few seconds earlier. In unison, unhurried, they went to the waterhole where they sank to their haunches and started to drink, lap-lap, lap-lap, non-stop for eight minutes.
And that was the start of an orgy of lion sightings.
We had barely focused the binos on its shaggy fur when it took off like an unbalanced rocket for the dunes. Two lionesses strolled in from stage left, past where it had been a just few seconds earlier. In unison, unhurried, they went to the waterhole where they sank to their haunches and started to drink, lap-lap, lap-lap, non-stop for eight minutes.
And that was the start of an orgy of lion sightings.
A mating pair, more aggression than tender loving care
Four very fat lions, legs in the air, lolled in the shade of a dune near Rooiputs waterhole while a jackal and six crows worried what was left of their gemsbok kill.
A male drank at Kameelsleep waterhole then walked towards us, roaring as he went. He found a patch of shade under a broken camel thorn and sniffed, scratched the ground with his back paws and finally flopped down to give us a full-on roaring concert, hoping to catch the attention of his pride.
A male drank at Kameelsleep waterhole then walked towards us, roaring as he went. He found a patch of shade under a broken camel thorn and sniffed, scratched the ground with his back paws and finally flopped down to give us a full-on roaring concert, hoping to catch the attention of his pride.
Roaring to locate your friends can be tiring
A scarless male in prime condition ran off some gemsbok at Kij Kij waterhole, drank deeply, then slumped in the shade as if to say, ‘This watering hole is closed to the public.’ And so it went on.
Two brothers amuse themselves with a lazy shoving match
But by far my favourite lion sighting of the trip was early one morning when we spotted a lioness with two small cubs. Mum was walking along with one of the littles, who occasionally chirped or squeaked, wrinkling her nose and baring her miniature teeth. Three or four metres behind came the other little one, determined to be brave and independent.
A thousand-yard stare
Mum lay down for a while in the shade of a camel thorn and Squeaky meekly lay down with her. Not so Mr Independent. He wandered off a few metres and heard a scuffling in a bush. Instantly he dropped into a crouch, all 40 or 50 centimetres of him. He focused on the bush, ears perked. He jigged and wriggled. But at last he realised that he hadn’t a hope of getting to whatever it was through the tangled branches and thorns. So he lay down, head on his front paws and just watched.
Five minutes later mum was on the move again, walking alongside the road, coming closer every now again as if she wanted to cross to the other side. But by then there were five cars dogging her every move, cameras at the ready, a mass of expensive technology poking from almost every window.
Five minutes later mum was on the move again, walking alongside the road, coming closer every now again as if she wanted to cross to the other side. But by then there were five cars dogging her every move, cameras at the ready, a mass of expensive technology poking from almost every window.
Mum and Squeaky - Mr Independent is way behind
Like it? Pin this image!Mr Independent still trailed behind, sniffing at tufts of grass, trying to play it cool, then sprinting to catch up. Squeaky stuck to mum like glue, almost tripping her up a few times as she walked between mum’s legs, still vocal.
We saw them again the following day, a little higher up on a dune, mum relaxing and the littles wrestling, cuffing each other with over-large paws they hadn’t quite learnt to control yet. Tired out from play, they nuzzled up to mum and began to suckle, two furry little bottoms pointing at us as mom half-closed her eyes.
These are sightings to treasure, ones where lions are moving and active. Because, let’s face it, watching lions sleep is about as boring as a wet weekend in Welkom.
Like it? Pin this image!
We saw them again the following day, a little higher up on a dune, mum relaxing and the littles wrestling, cuffing each other with over-large paws they hadn’t quite learnt to control yet. Tired out from play, they nuzzled up to mum and began to suckle, two furry little bottoms pointing at us as mom half-closed her eyes.
These are sightings to treasure, ones where lions are moving and active. Because, let’s face it, watching lions sleep is about as boring as a wet weekend in Welkom.
Like it? Pin this image!
More about the Kgalagadi
Copyright © Roxanne Reid - No words or photographs on this site may be used without permission from roxannereid.co.za
Copyright © Roxanne Reid - No words or photographs on this site may be used without permission from roxannereid.co.za
