In the bush, silence doesn’t mean nothing is being said. Working as a guide, you inevitably spend a lot of time simply watching. And over time, what starts as observation becomes interpretation. You begin to notice subtle patterns: an ear twitch, a sideways glance, a pause in movement, and you quickly realise that animals, although voiceless in the way we understand language, are constantly speaking. Let’s explore animal Communication that one might see on safari…

Recently, while watching the Tree Rivers Female stalk a scrub hare through the long grass, I was struck not only by her posture but by the deliberate change in her tail. It didn’t just move, it communicated. Perhaps the tail may just be one of the most overlooked tools for understanding animal behaviour.

Leopards: Precision in Every Flick

A leopard’s tail is an elegant multitool: used for balance when climbing, for steering during chases, and for guiding cubs. But more subtly, it can be a barometer of their mood. When relaxed and on the move through their territory, the tail is often curled upwards, the white underside visible, an indication that the cat isn’t trying to hide.

A tail held high, the white underside clearly visible: the proverbial white flag as the Nhlanguleni female moves away from birds and squirrels, alarming: her presence given away.

But the moment she becomes alert, when scent, sound, or movement draws her focus, the tail drops. Then, if she stops to assess a potential threat or prey, you’ll often see the tip begin to flick side to side, rhythmically and purposefully. She’s thinking aloud, her body frozen but her tail betraying a rapid internal calculation.

In moments of unease, when another predator is nearby, the end of the tail may “wiggle” in a subtle but unmistakable sign of discomfort, often preceding a hiss or growl. In that way, the leopard’s tail becomes a language of intent, equal parts warning, curiosity, and calculation.

The tail of a leopard hanging ever so elegantly from a marula tree

Wild Dogs: Coordination in Chaos

Few animals move with the purposeful chaos of a pack of African wild dogs. Their tails are bushy and distinctively white-tipped, essential for pack coordination, especially when chasing prey at full tilt through the bush.

When trotting along, their tails hang low and relaxed. But at the moment a chase begins, the tails stiffen and align with the spine, acting almost like rudders. And during the frenzied moments around a fresh kill, their tails arch backwards and fan out, an almost umbrella-like display that gives each dog a unique visual cue amid the blur of movement and dust.

Warthogs: The Aerial “Follow Me” Flag

There’s something unmistakably comical about a warthog dashing through the grass, its tails held bolt upright like an antenna. As amusing as it may seem, this tail posture serves a crucial purpose. When fleeing from danger, the warthog’s tail shoots up. A reflexive response triggered by muscle contractions at the base of the tail. It acts as a high-visibility signal for the rest of the sounder, helping family members follow one another through long grass and dense bush. It’s a kind of “follow me” flag, simple and effective.

Elephants: Stillness Speaks Volumes

An elephant’s tail might not seem expressive at first, but its movement, or lack thereof, is often the most telling.

A gently swishing tail indicates calm. It’s part fly-swatter, part rhythm, soft enough to be missed unless you’re really watching. But the moment tension rises, the tail stops. When elephants are about to shake their heads or are uncertain of your presence, the tail’s stillness is often one of the first signs. Conversely, when they flee or run, the tail stiffens and aligns with their spine—another subtle shift in communication.

An elephant’s tail swishes over its back leg. While waiting for an animal to walk into a space for that perfect photograph, you might find the creative shot lies where you didn’t expect it to be. Only a tail and hind leg were visible as this elephant fed in a thick bush. Shadows, detail and texture are expressed in this black and white representation of coarse hair and wrinkles. The tails of elephants are apart of animal communication on safari.

And if you’re close enough to hear it, there’s something uniquely beautiful about the sound of those coarse tail hairs “phishing” through the air like a gust of wind passing through leaves.

Impalas & Zebras: Subtle Displays in Prey Species

Impalas, so ubiquitous it’s often overlooked, also rely on their tails for communication. During the rutting season, dominant rams display not just with vocalisations and posture, but by flaring their tails outward, showing the white fringe in a fan-like shape. This display, combined with exaggerated stotting (high leaps), sends a visual message to both rivals and predators: “I’m strong. Don’t bother.”

Impala Rutting – Rich Laburn

Zebras, meanwhile, constantly use their tails as swatters. That constant motion—like a pendulum with a purpose that keeps biting flies at bay. But when a zebra is agitated, especially during stallion fights, the tail becomes a casualty. Many short or missing tails aren’t the result of predator attacks, but from intra-species fights, where biting and kicking are part of dominance struggles.

All around us, the bush is alive with movement, and not all of it is random. The next time you’re on a game drive, try watching the tails as a form of animal communication on safari. Whether it’s the flick of a leopard deciding her next move, or the slow sway of an elephant in a riverbed, you’ll find there’s a world of conversation happening if you know where to look.

Out here, even the smallest movement carries meaning. And tails, often overlooked, might just be the bush’s most poetic form of punctuation.