Show Stoppers

EcoTraining is about the small things, we all know this, and we truly believe it.  The mechanisms evolved over millennia by the coexistence of organisms know no bounds:  the relationship between figs and their wasp pollinators, the unique adaptations of an ant-lion larva to locate its prey and the fascinating behaviour exhibited by the polyandrous African Jacana are just some of the majesties awaiting a potential student on one of our courses.  That being said, nothing beats witnessing interactions between Africa’s heavy hitters, the big cats!

It’s a bit like buying a car: we know that we should spend our money on a nice safe and reliable family car with good fuel economy, but most of us would give our right arm to own an Aston Martin or Bugatti!  There is just something about them. The cats are no different.  They are the aces up the sleeve of the bush poker player, and the Mecca for any safari-goer!

What happens in the bush under the cloak of darkness is a mystery to most, but occasionally the nocturnal exploits of these key players transcend the dawn and we are able to view some unique events unfold.  Lions and leopards are mortal enemies.  Countless generations have fought this war; a war where both sides have their special weapons.  The lions have strength both in physicality and in numbers, but what the leopard lacks in this department it makes up with guile, agility and stealth.  Both will kill each other, especially their offspring, and most young cubs succumb to predation by one of their carnivorous cousins.

For a mother leopard nurturing a cub, a run-in with lions usually spells curtains, but lighting reactions and unparalleled tree climbing abilities might just be enough to save them.  By the time we arrived at the sighting, we found a majestic leopardess patrolling the treetops whilst her nemeses circled below.  Her footing was sure, and she almost mocked the comical attempts of the young lions far below her as they tried to scale the vertical trunk to reach her.  She spat and growled, but knew better than to antagonize her much larger relatives.  Her lightweight frame allowed her to control the canopy, but youth knows no bounds, and time and time again, the young lions tried their luck.  This made for some great viewing as their facial expressions matched their frustrations as their powerful limbs were nullified by their greater body mass and weak wrists.  Failed attempts ended in a shower of bark and a somewhat unceremonious dismount!  As usual, it is difficult not to anthropomorphasize the events, but if a lion could ever look embarrassed, this was it!

The leopardess however seemed distracted.  Between bouts of snarling at her feline foes, she continued glancing skyward towards a nearby fig tree.  Upon closer inspection we discovered a small cub, no more than 6 months old, sheltering in the upper reaches of its arboreal safe haven.  Whilst we could hear no communication, their glances spoke a thousand words, the maternal bond felt by both easily bridging the gap between their refuges.  Leopard cubs learn to climb from an early age, and this skill can save their life.  Despite balancing 10m from the ground, the cub looked sure-footed, relaxed and it matched its mother’s aggression towards its pursuers with low growls that defied its size.  Not that the lions were too concerned. However, despite several attempts, the lions knew they were beaten.  Disdainfully they relinquished their spot on the battlefield, slinking silently into the surrounding bush as the heat of the Sun sapped their resolve. 

The leopardess and her prodigy remained in their lofty sanctuary watching the retreat of their antagonists until the coast was clear.  The female gracefully dismounted and moved to the shade of a nearby termite mound but her terrified cub remained aloft.  This female is not very relaxed around cars and whilst their ordeal was over, our ethics dictated that we leave the area to allow mother and cub to reunite and disappear back into the bush in the way that only leopards can. 

It was an epic sighting for us, but just another day in the endless struggle for survival of one of Africa’s greatest icons.  The small things in the bush are fascinating, more so than many of you might realize, but some things are truly special.  We all have our weaknesses, our addictions if you will, and mine is the leopard. To see a mother and cub in a tree, and the interactions of hungry lions below them is as good as it gets!

Blogpost and photos by Ben Coley

The day of the jackal

We at EcoTraining spend countless hours pouring over books written by a variety of experts to try and explain animal behaviour to prospective field guides.  We have a huge wealth of knowledge at our finger tips with which to glean the plethora of information documented on some of the most iconic animals in the world.  However, despite Man’s propensity of recording field data from observations, animals do not always read the text books and often we are made to look foolish as they defy the preconceptions we have attributed to them!

The other day, a report about a male lion that had killed a bush pig, came through on the radio.  We rushed to the scene of the crime already deep in explanation as to the feeding habits of Africa’s apex terrestrial predator, looking forward to watching the ferocious feline demolishing his prey.  When we arrived at the location we found the bushpig completely intact, not even opened, and no lion to be seen.  Often predators will kill other predators as a means of eliminating competition and these victims are usually not consumed as they were removed rather than killed for food, but there was no viable reason that a cache of meat such as this would be left alone.  It was a gentle reminder from the bush that no matter how long you spend out here watching the daily lives of its inhabitants, nothing is ever set in stone!

I can offer no satisfactory explanation as to why the lion chose to leave his prize but nothing is left to waste in the bush for long.  Throughout the afternoon, the vultures arrived and began to consume the carcass, comically scrapping and flapping around as they argued over feeding rights.  We returned to the site at the end of our night drive hoping that the smell of decomposing flesh had wafted its way to the sensitive nostrils of the resident hyena clan.  It seemed however that the hyenas’ had also turned their nose up at the meal but not so a small group of side-striped jackals!

This diminutive predator is often overlooked in the food chain but plays a hugely important role in cleaning up the bush.  It is not as gregarious as the more common black backed jackal and thus their presence was a welcome sight to us all.  The temptation of a free meal overrode their normal normally nervous disposition and we were rewarded with a wonderful sighting as they wrestled with their porky prize! 

Side striped jackals are omnivores and can get their water requirements from eating fruits which enable them to be very successful in more harsh terrains.  They are also efficient hunters and regularly take small mammals, birds and even arthropods but an unattended carcass was a bonanza for them to enjoy.  We stayed in the sighting long after dark enjoying their antics as individuals argued over the choice cuts, prompting a long discussion over their feeding habits, role in the ecosystem and why the lion chose to leave its kill. 

For me, the true beauty of working in the bush is the fact that nothing is ever set in stone.  For a lion to pass up an opportunity to feed is unusual, but its decision benefited a whole host of less powerful members of the bushveld community.  Rules are made to be broken and trying to fathom the rationale behind these incidents is what makes this vocation so fascinating.  Variety is the spice of life, and we bush folk live our lives wondering what awaits us around the next corner and it is this excitement: the unknown commodity, that makes a life in the bush so rewarding!

Blog and photos by Ben Coley

A phenomenal lion kill – defying the textbooks

Seeing a predator make ‘a kill’ is often high on the wish list of safari-goers. Managing these lofty expectations is a major part of a guide’s job, especially important during the guest briefings prior to an activity. Teaching and practicing such briefings is a big part of any Ecotraining course, just as it was on the 28-day Safari Guide Course we ran on Kenya’s Lewa Wildlife Conservancy in August this year. After all, it helps a guide develop rapport, communicating safety and ethical considerations as well as giving the guide a chance to deliver a realistic yet hopefully wonderful experience. However, before the instruction could even begin, I, as instructor, took on the role of guide and had to do the usual expectation management when the typical ‘kill request’ came up. With a more reasonable perspective, the request didn’t come up again on later drives, although I knew that the students were just as secretly hopeful as I was about seeing such an event.

Ten days into the course we watched a lioness (Panthera leo) painstakingly stalk a herd of Plains Zebra (Equus quagga boehmi) before a clumsy sub-adult lion alerted them of the impending danger. We could not believe how close we had come to witnessing a complete hunt. However, it was merely a day later that we got lucky and saw the whole thing, but in circumstances completely defying the textbooks.

We were driving back to camp after another successful morning practical guiding activity. It was around 9:30 and all our layers for the chill of dawn were peeled off, the temperature was climbing rapidly and sunscreen had already been applied at our coffee break an hour earlier. Our camp came into view as we entered the grove of fever trees (Vachellia xanthaphloea) that marked the edge of the main Lewa swamp.

“Stop, stop, there’s a lion over there!”

“Where? I can’t see it.”

“It was walking, from right to left. It’s behind those sandpaper trees” (Cordia monoica)

Sure enough, the keen eyed student had spotted a blonde-maned lion making a steady march towards the swamp, about 50m away from us.

We slowed to stay parallel with him. Suddenly, he broke out in a trot. Looking ahead in the direction of his determined stare, we could see what had grabbed his attention. Around 250m in front of him was a herd of Defassa Waterbuck (Kobus ellipsiprymnus defassa) and two Grevy’s Zebra (Equus Grevyi) stallions that were embroiled in a full-on territorial fight. Unlike their Plains Zebra cousins, the Grevy’s are territorial with a totally different social structure – they also don’t hold harems like the much smaller, non-territorial, Plains Zebras.

We kept up with the lion and positioned ourselves around 100m from the Zebras to watch the drama unfold. Upon reaching a small open patch, the lion slowed down to a momentary stalk. The waterbuck had noticed him. In a panic they split and ran towards the river that feeds the swamp. Crucially, they never sounded the alarm and the stallions continued to buck, kick and bite each other.

Now within 75m of the Zebras, the lion used a large lone fever tree to hide his final sprint. It was only when he was less than a few metres away that the stallions seemed to realize the danger. They separated, the lion seemed to stop, as if to pick his target, and pounced on one of their backs. All of us gasped.

“Go, go, go!” I urged. ‘Silke’, our guide for the day, moved the vehicle to a spot parallel to the struggle, which was happening less than 30m from the road.

The lion manoeuvred into a position where he could hang off the stallion’s neck with his jaws and front paws, trying to pull him down to ground. The Zebra, over twice the lion’s weight, did his best to stay on his feet. This fight was not over. Their bulk, powerful kicks and vicious bites are usually enough to deter lone lions from hunting adult Grevy’s Zebra stallions. But again, there was nothing ‘typical’ about this hunt.

After approximately four minutes, the Zebra collapsed and the lion adjusted to finish suffocating him. It took another three or four minutes before the twitching and kicking stopped and the lion sensed he had succeeded.

The lion lifted his head to pant and almost ironically it was only then that the waterbuck began snorting in alarm. They and the surviving stallion were now gathered around the lion and his kill, keeping a good eye on the predator, ensuring he knew the element of surprise was gone, just in case he considered making another daring hunt!

Whether the surviving stallion was the original territory holder or fighting to take it over, we will never know. However, satisfied the lion was no longer a threat, he proceeded to prance in circles, bellowing his territorial claim.

The lion eventually moved to the Zebra’s rump, where the skin and flesh are easier to tear open, and began to feed.

As the lion settled down to eat, our adrenaline levels began to settle as well. We could not believe what we had just witnessed. Everything you read and hear about lion hunts didn’t seem to apply here. We already knew that male lions have a false reputation for being lazy and over reliant on hunting lionesses. But a lone hunt in broad, hot, daylight, over a distance of 300m to take on a formidable 450kg Grevy’s Zebra stallion…the sheer audacity!

We left the lion to his breakfast to attend to ours.

We returned to the scene for the next three days. The following morning the male had been joined by two more lions - a gruff, but much larger black-maned lion, and a young female. This older lion had a heavy limp but still dominated the kill. He refused to let the blonde male near the carcass or the female. Eventually the female headed for the swamp for a drink. The old male growled in protest, carefully following her, ensuring he kept between her and the blonde male until they reached and disappeared into the reeds. The blonde male took his chance to resume feeding.

The lions abandoned the kill after the second day and over the course of the next week, scavengers had reduced the carcass to a skeleton.

Despite the amazing events we had the privilege to witness, we were able to appreciate another context to the kill. Grevy’s Zebras are critically endangered, with numbers hovering around 3000 left in the wild. Conflict with pastoralist communities is thought to have reduced their numbers from 15,000 in the 1970’s. With the Ethiopian sub-population threatening to go extinct in the coming years, Grevy’s Zebras will become endemic to northern Kenya. Conservancies such as Lewa, its Laikipia neighbours and its partners in the Northern Rangelands Trust are the last strongholds. As conflict with pastoralists is minimized by adopting better grazing policies, the current main threat is predation from lions and spotted hyaenas (Crocuta crocuta). A seemingly disproportionate number of Grevy’s Zebras are predated considering their relative scarcity to other prey, but it is usually the foals that get taken. To have a healthy stallion killed will be a blow to Lewa, which holds around 11% of the global population. However, the current emphasis on maintaining a functioning ecosystem involves the risk of losing a number of critically endangered animals to predation, be it Grevy’s Zebras or even Black Rhino (Diceros bicornis michaeli) calves. At least these photographs and our report can contribute to the ongoing research into these dynamics.

It was phenomenal luck that we got to see the kill take place, but it was also fascinating to follow up for a number of days and see how the event fits into the ecological context. Not only was it a demonstration of a food web in action, but it also impacted the local lion social dynamics and the wider conservation perspective.

Writer: Andreas Fox
Photos by Markus Eichelberg

THROUGH THE BUSH TELEGRAPH: Look before you leap – Selati

If there’s one guarantee in nature, it is that the unexpected is sure to happen, as sure as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. As this update from Christine Jutz from our wilderness camp in the Selati Game Reserve clearly indicates:

“Instructor Mark Gunn would always tell us that part of guiding and conservation is to clear the road of any overhanging branches, as this would prevent the creation of new roads and so disturbing the natural environment. So every once in a while, he would stop the vehicle and say “Tracker, take the panga and help me to get this branch.”

Then of course the following happened on one of the drives… Our ‘tracker’, fellow student JJ, jumped off his seat, grabbed the panga, and as he was walking to the sickle bush, everybody on the vehicle started yelling “Lion, lion!”

Less than five meters from JJ, two lionesses and a young male rose from the vegetation where they were sleeping before we attempted to clear the sickle bush.

JJ levitated back to the vehicle in a single bound, and the lesson was learnt: Look before you leap!”

NOTE: The picture is not of the lions in this story, it is however of the Selati lions.