The wilderness is a dynamic theatre, constantly unravelling its never-ending story, one Act at a time, to whoever cares to observe. As guides, guests and spectators, we are its audience. However, the wild waits for no spectator, and despite our best efforts, much of nature’s great plays and sequences pan out, not behind closed curtains, but in front of an empty room.
Quite recently we witnessed one of these events which not many people have seen (or even heard about), and it was one which I had never wished, or even expected, to see in my life. I can say with confidence that it was difficult to watch at the time and certainly is a memory I cannot erase. The details are grim and the result harsh, so for any sensitive readers or dog-lovers, this may not be the first-choice post for today’s reading.
Our safari started with an early afternoon spent with a huge breeding herd of Elephant. Our vehicle was full of excited guests who were pleased to see so many Elephants only a few minutes into the drive. My tracker, Rob, and I had decided to head towards the northern bank of the Sand River, where the Tsalala Pride of lions had already been found, and were since left fast asleep at the water’s edge in the heat of the day. On any other day, we would have stayed with that huge herd until much later in the afternoon, when the lions would hopefully start waking up. Spoilt for choice, I know. But this plan changed when we heard over the radio that rangers, Tom, Melvin and Simon, had found a pack of Wild Dogs who were a few kilometres away, and steadily moving north toward the Sand River. Rob and I weighed up the possibility of the pack continuing in that direction for that amount of distance, and discussed whether we thought they could end up on the river bank, opposite to the sleeping pride. This would be a sighting neither one of us had ever seen or heard about before, and we decided to go for it!
It took us a while to move around the vast herd of feeding Elephants, and we eventually reached the river bank where the pride had been left, not knowing how our ambitious bet on the pack’s movement had turned out. Admittedly, I expected to find seven sleeping cats, to sit and wait for a pack of dogs to show up (only to find out that they had changed direction a few minutes before and ended up miles away- not an unlikelihood for the ever trotting canines). To my surprise, there they were, the Wild Dogs, all emerging out of the thickets on the far side of the river, and lining up on the sand preparing to enter a shallow section of water, now between them and our vehicle. Perhaps it was for a drink, a swim or even to get across to our side. But, where were the lions? And, surely, once any one of the dogs had seen the pride, they would all run away before the sleepy lions even realised they were there? Surely.
While we admired the army of painted coats entering the river from a distance, sudden movement caught our eyes below. The Tsalala Pride were wide awake and fully alert. Evidently they had woken to the noise of the pack’s arrival and were now creeping towards the water, their bodies low, ears flat and eyes wide, while their pale coats blended them in to the pale sandy bank’s backdrop. Our almost ‘ariel view’ of these converging groups of predators was laid out in front of us. The stage was set and the scene was already in motion.
Before anybody could say anything in preparation, there was chaos.
Almost without a sound, as I remember it, there were suddenly seven lions, and at least ten wild dogs, sprinting in different directions through a foot of moving water. The explosion of muscle and mud was over in two or three seconds as the spray settled. Looking back, it felt like several minutes of panic and confusion within the shallow water, however, most of us can recall noticing one of the lions on a fixed route toward one of the fleeing dogs in particular, a slower pup of the pack struggling for adequate footing in the riverbed. There was no contest once the young Tsalala lioness closed the gap and made the tackle on that young dog. She outweighed the pup five times over. Everything then went still. No other dogs were visible, their exit routes were lightning fast, and in any, and all, directions. Left in the middle of the river lay a lioness and a fallen pup, while the rest of the pride began regrouping. The pup was not killed, though, and the other lionesses proceeded to take turns in inflicting their own damage to their victim. Eventually, the powerful Tailless female put the pup, and all of us, out of its misery. The rest of the pride carried on as if nothing had happened, as the cubs resumed their playful fighting in the cool water. Their casual state returned. Our vehicle was filled with shock and awe throughout, and it was probably only the adrenaline that kept everybody, including Rob and me, so calm.
I say we were lucky, as two days before this we had seen that very pack of Wild Dogs in the morning, and had watched them run, hunt and feed. We had seen those few pups of the pack interact with each other, battle for meat at the carcass and be protected by the adults while a scavenging Hyena arrived. But this only strengthened the connection we had with them. I say we were lucky, but our luck only made it harder to watch. After that initial sighting with the pack, we had spoken about the privilege we had been afforded to see them, as they are Africa’s second-most endangered carnivore- second only to the Ethiopian Wolf. We were privileged in that their nomadic lifestyle sees them moving around several hundred square kilometres, making any viewing of them something for us to cherish. Anybody who has been on safari, and been lucky enough to see these stunning hunters, would know that. In discussing their rarity, we had spoken about them being under threat from other large predators, specifically lions. And now, here we were, with such an example being brought to life right in front of us. While knowing all along that lions are a contributing factor to the low population of Wild Dog in Southern Africa, it was suddenly very difficult to watch.
It was almost as if we all accepted this explanation for the pack’s endangered status until we had to see it in action. A sudden shock value given to known facts. And, without a doubt, that’s what it was- shocking to watch, brutal to listen to and saddening to experience the untimely death of an up-and-coming predator during a crucial time in its development. A bubbly little character in a huge family of care-givers was now a crack in the pack’s succession. I don’t think anybody could explain their own emotion during the rest of that sighting, but we all shared in something special by being there.
What we had all realised was that we had been in the perfect place at the perfect time to witness something which is not easily achieved. We had observed nature in its purest form. Nothing more could be extracted from that event other than our observation of a harsh and wild interaction which would have happened with or without our presence. The stage was set and the story unfolded as it does, not caring who is in the audience to watch.
We could not be sad for the young wild dog nor its pack. We could not be happy for the lion pride, nor angry at its young and experienced lioness. We could only acknowledge the brutality of the predators’ rivalries and understand the ongoing nature of the wilderness as a whole; a theatre waiting for nobody. The show must go on. And if we are privileged enough to find a seat, then we should roll with the emotional punches and keep our eyes on the stage, its characters and the overall plot, and we just might catch an Act which will stay in our memories forever.
Written and Photographed by Sean Cresswell
It is very sad, but an incredible once in a lifetime experience. We saw the wild dog pack as well, the previous morning, so this touch deeper. We have got the photos of all of them together. I sometimes feel lions are very cruel, but it is nature.
I remember that you and Des has seen them before, it really touches deeper that way, you’re right. Yes, as you say, it is nature. Keep well, Marinda.
I almost stopped a few paragraphs in due to your warning but glad I didn’t. Awesome perspective and words on the harsh reality in the African bush. Amazing post!
Thanks, Mike. Then I’m glad too that you continued reading passed my warming… Despite the harsh content, sometimes these stories need to be told.
An incredible sighting! Difficult to watch, I’m sure. Well written Seano!
James
Ah Sean this is perfectly written and explained. An unforgettable evening and so moving to see. Thanks for doing it justice.
Thanks very much for the feedback, Dani. Both you and Henry, as well as the others on the vehicle, were great throughout the evening. It was a difficult situation to explain but you all handled it so well. I’m so glad we all experienced that together! Unforgettable. Keep well, you too.
A beautiful overall message, despite the harsh details, Seano. Loved your outlook on it.
Sean,
Brilliantly written. The scene you witnessed is the real world at its most real. Thank you for your respectful coverage!
Michael and Terri, I appreciate your comment. And I agree, real world most certainly – the wilderness in its purest form, and what a privilege it was to get such an opportunity to observe it.
Sean. We have been to that theatre and saw a performance. We had the privilege of seeing a pack of Wild Dogs last year and saw them eliminate an adult Impala in a matter of seconds. It is very emotional and no one could have put such an event in better perspective than you have done here. Thanks and very well done.
Ed, a hugely appreciated comment. Thank you for the kind words and compliment. I am glad you felt that the writing did (at least to some degree) do such an event any justice. Some sightings can often be left at just the experience as reading and writing about them cannot evoke the same feeling. But sometimes all we can do is try… Glad that this one carried some emotion!
Thank you for your post. Nature at its harshest but so sensitively written I stopped breathing for a bit..
You’re more than welcome, Suzanna. And thank you for reading it.
Thanks for the very balanced point of view of a violent interaction between animals. Predators do compete and kill one another. It is natural but I feel a bit sad for the wild dog.
Yes of course, Brian, it is sad for the Wild Dog as it was one of the youngsters, but more importantly because of their endangered status and rarity in the lowveld. However, we know that these things happen, and I’m sure the pack will continue to hunt successfully wherever they may be by now, and will most likely have another huge litter of pups at the start of winter. Who knows, we may even see that pack again soon.
Sean, this is a very rare moment. Very interesting.
Hello Sergey, yes indeed a very rare moment. One which can very easily be missed. We were very lucky to be nearby when the pack started to move and very lucky to be up on the northern bank of the river with that open view down onto the water for when it actually happened. A very interesting moment, you’re right. Hope to see you soon, Sergey. Around the next corner!
Thanks Sean, a harsh, but beautiful message, but Wildlife is just that! Have a good wild weekend
I agree, fully! Thank you, I did have a good, wild weekend and I hope you did too. Have a phenomenal week and catch up with us on Friday for the week’s pictures!
Sean this is so well written – it really encompassed such powerful emotion and a beautifully thought out message.
I appreciate the comment. Glad the emotion and message got across!
Thank you for sharing your story.. beautifully written and love the metaphor of the theatre.. you were blessed to have found a seat at such a profound sighting.. thank you!
It has been my pleasure to share. Thank you, Carla. The theatre metaphor seemed right in this context and I’m happy you enjoyed it.
Thanks a lot for the well-crafted narration of events in our wildness. Yes, a theatre indeed with a not-so free ticket as one might suggest. In real life – with us humans too, survival can be that brutal.
Thank you once again for sharing those tense scenes.
Olivia
Olivier, very good observation. Thank you for feeling the meaning of the post, and for the comment.
Your story gripped a lot of the blog readers, especially those who have seen the wild dogs in action. I saw them last year on a kill and caught their distinctive scent. They remain my favorite predator next to leopards. I am still waiting to see a cheetah. A kill of whatever sort is hard to watch, but it does bring home in vivid way that one is truly in the wild. Many thanks for sharing. Well written!
Hi Barabara, yes that experience does most certainly vividly remind one of the wild that surrounds us while out here in the bush. Again, it’s been my pleasure to share; thank you for reading and for the comments. You must really enjoy the Wild Dogs, I too think that they are some of my most favourite predators to watch! I hope you see that elusive Cheetah one day! When are coming back to Londolozi?
Wonderfully written Sean and very difficult to watch I am sure. Cruel to see but a reminder of the unpredictable nature of the wild and something that we have no control over – as it should be.
Wow! What a story. While certainly a rare sighting, I’m madly in love with those dogs and not sure I could have watched this event, so I’m quite grateful to read and see the photos! Well written, I can feel your emotions through your words. Thank you Sean!
It makes it so much harder to hear when you enjoy the dogs so much, I know. Not many people could have, or even did, watch the whole event, Jenifer, so I’m happy I could transfer some of the experience into a blog post. Thanks for the compliment!
Wow, an incredible read to be sure. As I read your post I expected my eyes to well with tears at the start of every paragraph, but your last paragraph really nailed it. An emotion filled post both sadness at the loss and the triumph over a rival predator.
Jan, I’m glad the post meant so much. Thank you for reading.
Completely poetic piece. Written beautifully. I experienced something similar back in May when one day we spent time with a baby giraffe and then a day later watched as it was devoured by a pride as the giraffe parents stood by and watched. Sad, yes. Amazing sight, definitely. I’ll be back for more…
Thank you so much, Kristine. And wow, that is an incredible thing to have experienced! The additional connection to that calf, on top of the sight of death, must have certainly pulled at the heart strings. But, as you said, sad yet amazing… Was that at Londolozi? And if so, do you remember which pride it was? Because the Sparta Pride are notorious for taking down Giraffe. Glad you will be coming back for more!
Wonderful story – very well written … you have to keep on doing this! 😉 Just goes to show …. when you least expect it! Looking forward to being in the bush with you soon!
Awesome Sean! Keep up the reports…great to see you so passionate about what you are doing!
Superb report……….so well written and feels like I was there!!
Thank you Sean for sharing and explaining that sighting so well! We were with Melvin and that scene really tough for us to watch……could not look at our pictures for one month at least. But now we can understand that’s life in Africa and realize how much lucky we have been to see that hidden part of life in Africa.
Regards see you next year!
Hugues and Evelyne
Thank you for the comment, Hugues and Evelyne. It was a vert tough scene to watch. What I never mentioned was my realisation afterwards that by using my camera so much during the incident, I “removed” myself from the scene as the lens acted as an emotional barrier between the sighting and I. This wasn’t intended, but certainly became apparent afterwards. I am glad that you have accepted the scene as natural and, although very tough to think about, will always be a once-in-a-lifetime memory. A hidden part of life, indeed. I hope you two are well, looking forward to your next visit!