Amazing wildlife encounters
Australiansharonpincottlivedamongthepresidentialelephantsofzimbabwe formorethanadecade.thisisanextractfromherbook
HE’S finally here, Esther, at Kanondo,” I blurted into my mobile, pretending to be calmer than I was. This wasn’t the time to talk as they needed to pack their 4x4 and race the 15km to join me. There’s never any time to waste with these operations, since the chance of the animal disappearing into thick bush is always high.
Only a few minutes had passed, but I was back on my mobile again. “Esther, she’s already moving off,” I warned. Thankfully, they were already on their way. By strategically positioning my vehicle in Adwina’s path, I tried to encourage her to stay put.
Momentarily, I’m back on my mobile again. “I’m not sure that I can hold her much longer. Please, we need a tracker…” I circle around and keep herding Adwina back and forth, trying to prevent her from crossing the road into thicker bush. In desperation I phone for another vehicle to help keep an eye on her.
The vehicle eventually arrives, but it’s just too late. Adwina runs across the road that I’m on. I can hear Esther’s vehicle pulling up and I drive madly towards her, needing to get to the next road to prevent Adwina from crossing that one as well. Hans is driving and Esther is as calm, cool and professional as always, which does nothing to soothe my own thumping heart. Thank goodness one of us is so composed. She’s about to start preparing the dart (the drug is potentially deadly if spilt on human skin, so I’m thankful that I’m not the one loading it) and has a tracker on board. I leave them to get on with it and zoom off towards the next road.
By the time the dart and gun are ready, Adwina is still somewhere between these two sandy roads. But the bush is horribly thick. We’re all looking in the wrong direction when she eventually crosses. I catch a glimpse of her, however, and manage to confirm that it’s Adwina. Mkhalalwa, our tracker, quickly leads Esther and Hans after her on foot.
It proves fruitless. There are sounds of elephants everywhere, and the risk of walking straight into one in the thick bush is high. Eventually, I see all three helpers retreating towards the vehicles. My hands fleetingly cover my eyes in disappointment. “We just can’t miss her twice,” I whisper to myself. Yet it looks as if we have. It’s not practical for this darting team to wait around too much longer, since the chances of Adwina returning to the open area of Kanondo are low. If some of the elephants we can hear are her family there’s a chance that she will, but, although we wait for a while longer, all we encounter are lone bulls.
Eventually, I return to Kanondo alone in the desperate hope that she reappears. A game-drive vehicle arrives with American tourists on board, so I show the safari guide the gruesome photographs that I’ve just taken of Adwina and ask him to keep a close eye out for her.
Meanwhile, the Ws – one of my favourite families – have appeared in the open, sent perhaps to ease my despair. There’s also a bateleur in the sky, which some believe is a spirit messenger. I immediately think of my dear friend Andy, who lost his life while he was a wildlife warden in Hwange National Park. It seems impossible that he’s been dead for 10 years. “Please help us find her,” I whisper, looking skyward, hoping that he can hear me.
I drive with the tourists to the mineral licks, where wellknown elephant ladies named Whole, Whosit, Willa, Whoever, Wishful and others enjoy the minerals and then surround our vehicles. I share information about their intimate family relationships and introduce the tourists to all my favourites. I explain that the elephants are very familiar with me and my vehicle and know my voice well, but that as strangers they must sit in silence and never attempt to touch or feed them. The Americans are visibly moved by their close encounter, revelling in their astonishing proximity. “I could just cry,” a middle-aged man whispers with sincerity.
This makes me smile. It’s the incredible effect that these trusting giants so often have on people. We talk some more about this remarkably friendly W family and also about Adwina and the darting attempt. Then, without warning, Adwina appears in the open just a few hundred metres away, about to splash soothing mud on her wound. “Thank you, thank you,” I whisper instinctively, gazing once again towards the sky.
If I thought my heart was pounding earlier it was now about to jump out of my chest. One phone call and Esther, Hans and Mkhalalwa are immediately on their way back.
Adwina does it to me again, though. She starts to move off well before the darting team can get to me. I dash back to the same road that I was on earlier, having asked the safari guide and his guests to remain still and monitor her from there. Once again I herd Adwina back and forth, back and forth, trying to keep her from disappearing into the dense bush. But it feels like I’m going to lose her yet again.
I hear Esther’s vehicle roaring towards us and at the same time get a glimpse through the bush of the safari guests waving coloured cloth in the air, someone’s sweater perhaps, to help guide the way. Hans can see where Adwina is, even though there are scores of elephants in the area by now, and he drives towards her. Esther knows that I’m struggling to hold Adwina at bay and, like me, fears we’ll lose her again if she crosses the road. She has one chance to successfully get the dart in, and it’s not a very good one since she’s awfully close to the limit of the dart gun’s 40m range and the thick bush is preventing her from getting any closer. Adwina isn’t staying still, but with calm skill Esther leans out the window of her 4x4 and fires. The dart hits, albeit a little precariously, on the side of Adwina’s leathery rump.
Through the leafy bush I can see the pink-feathered dart protruding from her backside, and breathe a huge sigh of relief. My mobile rings and it’s Esther confirming that the dart is in, and asking me to keep up with Adwina to see where she falls; assuming that enough of the drug has been injected to bring her down. Esther sounds cool and confident, as always. Adwina’s head and trunk eventually start to droop and I’m thinking, peering at my trembling hands, that I could do with a bit of immobilisation myself.
In a few minutes she’s down. We hurry in our two vehicles towards her fallen body and the operation is immediately in full swing.
by Jacana.
is published