WITH MY OWN EYES

LIONS CATCH WILDEBEEST CALF, KGALAGADI

Ihave visited the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park many times, and I’ve taken thousands of pictures, looking for that special moment. The Kgalagadi can be an emotional place – I’ve always wanted to take a photo that captures that intensity.

Back in 2015, on 29 December, I got my opportunity. Although one of these images has been published elsewhere (I won a competition with it), this is the first time I get to tell the whole story and show how the kill unfolded.

I was in the park with friends, Juan and Charmaine Venter – we were in separate cars but camped together at Rooiputs, one of my favourite spots in the Kgalagadi.

I was driving back to camp after having had breakfast at the Melkvlei picnic site. About 2 km after passing the waterhole at Kij Kij, I noticed a small herd of wildebeest standing in the shade of some trees. A cow had just given birth to a little calf – it was still wet, lying on the ground. Although it was only about 10.30 am, it was already 38° C. I started taking pictures of the little calf as it tried to stand up and balance on its wobbly legs 1 . I was using my Canon EOS Mark II with a Canon 500 mm f4 lens.

After a few minutes, the calf took its first steps and soon progressed to being able to canter. I was amazed at how agile it was so soon after birth – perfectly adapted to an environment where there are plenty of predators 2 .

I returned to Rooiputs to have a break before driving out again for the afternoon. When I’m staying at Rooiputs, I normally leave quite early in the afternoon to find a good spot in the shade at the Kij Kij waterhole – during the heat of the day, raptors often come down to bathe and drink.

So I set out for Kij Kij, but I stopped when I saw the same group of wildebeest. I knew there were some lions in the vicinity and hoped that they would come down to drink at Kij Kij, so I carried on and parked there in the shade.

No lions came and eventually it started getting late. I was about to start the car and drive back to Rooiputs when something unexpected happened.

The wildebeest were now on their way to the waterhole for a late-afternoon drink. Unfortunately for them, they walked right past a few lions lying in ambush. The females attacked, catching the newborn calf that I’d photographed earlier that day. Soon, a big male lion came and snatched it away. The calf was still alive 3 .

What followed was difficult to witness. Emotionally, I had to try and distance myself from what was happening. I concentrated on

the movement of the animals, making 100 % sure that my focus remained on the eyes of the lion, and that the composition stayed within the boundaries of the frame.

The big male allowed the cubs to come in closer to play with the terrified calf 4 . The calf tried to stand up again and again, but the lion pinned it down each time. I managed to get an image where the lion and calf were staring at each other 5 . ( This is the photo that won the competition.) The moment passed very quickly; I was fortunate to have pressed the shutter at the critical moment. To me, this is the photo with the emotional impact that I’d been searching for. It’s the shot of a lifetime.

The male lion then started licking the calf for about five minutes 6 . At this stage, I really hoped he would be merciful and let the calf go. Eventually the death blow came 7 . The last

screams of the calf will be embedded in my memory forever.

I kept photographing until there was almost nothing left of the calf. When it was over, I removed my camera from its window bracket and put it away. I closed the window and had one last look at the scene.

It was now very late – I had about 15 minutes to get back to Rooiputs. Driving back, my senses were numb and my body was shaking. I was in shock.

Back at camp, I had a quick look through my pictures on the camera screen and I realised that this was something extraordinary, something that I’d likely never see again.

Early the next morning I returned to the same spot. A wildebeest cow – I assumed it was the mother of the dead calf – walked up and down the dunes, calling and calling 8 .

It was the saddest thing I’ve ever witnessed in the wild.