A private game reserve may sound like a
utopia to many of us. It is an enclosed
space where we have the honour of viewing some of the most beautiful, iconic
and dramatic animal life on the planet.
But for its inhabitants, they have been unknowingly cast into a battle
for available resources. It is a battle
where, size matters, strength matters and where numbers often triumph. When species are fighting for specific
resources it is inevitable that conflict will reign and for every winner, there
must be a loser.
The world’s cheetah population is a lot
lower than most of you might have realized.
Best estimates suggest that there are less than 10,000 of this
fleet-footed feline are left on the planet.
The cheetah is a species best suited to wide open spaces and thus its
last remaining stronghold consists of Namibia and East Africa, but there are
still pockets of resistance dotted throughout the network of private reserves
in SA. These over grazed areas are
dominated by woodland due to cattle farming but some individuals have altered
their hunting habits learnt to survive.
But it is an uphill struggle and one that many are not winning. Evolution takes millions of years and a
species thrown into new surroundings will always suffer. In the private game reserve scenario, there
is nowhere to hide from your competition.
Artificial lines have been drawn in the sand and the pressure from the
larger and more numerous predators is unrelenting.
In the past 6 months, Karongwe has lost 2
of it last remaining 3 cheetahs thanks to the survival instinct of the local
lion pride. A species cannot exist without access to resources, and any drain on those resources means that its
eradication is paramount. Lions do not
share and they have systematically removed this threat. 1 male cheetah is all that is left of the
local resistance but of late he has been sighted twice in the south of the
reserve close to our camp. The EcoTraining students
had all but given up hope of finding this veritable needle in a haystack until
we bumped into him with a freshly killed impala ewe a few weeks ago. As it was after dark, and bearing in mind the
threat of the nocturnal power of the hyaenas and lions, we chose to leave him
in peace.
However, last week, as we returned from a
morning drive, we found him once again, this time with a freshly killed impala
ram. His streamlined body lay next to
his prize, panting heavily to recover the energy exerted during the chase. The impala had not yet even been opened and
thus we knew we had missed the capture by minutes. As we watched him catch his breath, he eyed
us carefully, the recent loss of his brother no doubt playing a part in his
trust issues. Finally however he relaxed
and settled down to claim his protein-rich reward.
We watched as his carnassial teeth sliced
through the impala’s rump to expose the tender flesh. A cheetah is always afraid of interlopers
during this time as he cannot defend himself, or his kill, against the larger
predators with whom he shares his domain.
His head bobbed up and down as he alternated satisfying his hunger and
surveying the surroundings for danger.
By 11 o’clock however, nature’s undertakers had begun to arrive. A white
backed vulture sat ominously in the trees close by waiting for its
opportunity. Even Job cannot challenge
the vulture for its patience and as the minutes ticked by, more black shadows
seemed to appear from the ether, descending towards the cheetah’s dinner table.
By the time we returned to the scene that
afternoon, all that was left of the impala was a tattered piece of skin and a
few splintered bones. The vultures sat
innocently in the surrounding trees, crops visibly full, and there was no sign
of the cheetah. Undoubtedly disturbed by
the pestering presence of the feathered scavengers, he had most likely slipped
away to digest his food in peace.
Learning to be unseen and to avoid competition is the only way the last
remaining member of Karongwe’s cheetah population can survive. Evolution may take millions of years, but
behaviour can change quickly. It is this
ability that lends hope to this elegant enigma and I personally cross all my
fingers that he can do just this.
The private game reserve phenomenon may
have hampered his opportunities - no more can he just vacate an area and seek
asylum in a less predator rich environment, but without it, he would have no
doubt succumbed to Man’s unrelenting expansion.
A typical cheetah might range over 500-1000 square kilometers and while
the boundaries of Karongwe may only be a tiny percentage of this, his chances
here are far higher here than outside these fences. Farmers protect their livelihood without
mercy and kill with far less provocation and far more frequency than
lions. The private game reserves are not
perfect, but without them, there is a very real possibility that this docile
and beautiful animal would have been extinct by now, and we would have been
denied the opportunity to see one of nature’s most exquisite creations.
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