DRAMA IN BLACK AND WHITE
Lesley Brown witnesses a heart-stopping standoff in the Serengeti
IT was a broiling day as we bumped along a dusty and rocky road en route to the Hippo Pool. As we approached a small dam, I smiled silently at the ingenuity of a lone zebra, standing up to its belly in the water. The tall, green reeds and few bushes made this a cool oasis on the sweltering plains, the ideal drinking spot for the parched herd we had passed earlier.
Yet, within seconds, the already stationary vehicle ahead of us alerted us to the fact that a crocodile had caught this zebra by its right foreleg.
The seven of us stood up in our now stationary vehicle, anxious to see. We are all seasoned game viewers, yet none of us had ever witnessed such a scene. Our driver, Edward, reminded us that crocodiles were very patient and that this would be a waiting game of sorts. He assured us that the zebra would eventually tire and then the sly old predator of the deep would come in for the kill.
The zebra stood dead still, as if accepting the inevitable. At times, it turned its head and seemed to look in our direction, perhaps reproaching us for our inaction; perhaps silently imploring us to bring this to an end. But we could only watch and pray. On the bank, a small herd of zebras gathered, staring at this ill-fated member of their herd. I recalled a buffalo standoff against lions I had recently seen on YouTube, and we all secretly wished these zebras could somehow muster the same courage and dazzle the crocodile into releasing its victim. Cautiously the zebras descended the bank, and many started quenching their thirst, either oblivious to what was happening or well aware that “the enemy” was otherwise occupied.
At this stage, the zebra began to make a huge effort to move towards the bank, slowly dragging this weighty monster behind it. Then the zebra tugged and in a flash, its foreleg was free, only to have its right hind-hoof trapped in the vicelike grip of the crocodile. What awful luck! Minutes ticked by and soon the zebra began to show its exhaustion; the crocodile started to drag it into deeper water, where presumably it hoped to drown it. At one stage, the zebra could no longer keep its head upright, so exhausted was it. It lay on its side in the water, only raising its head at intervals to breathe. The zebra was well and truly “finished”, according to Edward. It was just a matter of moments. We would still make the Hippo Pool by lunch time.
Life and death play out on the Serengeti plains every moment of every day. As visitors to this animal Eden, we had come, each with our own expectations. Certainly we had all hoped to experience the thrill of the chase, to follow the numerous cats in pursuit of zebras and wildebeest, perhaps even the gory pleasure of a kill. But none of us would have wanted to witness a protracted and tormented battle.
The privilege of witnessing a kill is all a matter of timing. The Serengeti plains are a harsh world of “survival of the fittest”; here there is no place for weakness, no place for the soft sentiments of urban dwellers, like ourselves, with our sense of fair play. Hunger must be sated. Lives will be lost. Young will be born. The cycle must go on.
Almost an hour had passed. So when, with a final, almost magnificent burst of effort, the zebra righted itself and began to drag the crocodile again into the shallow water, we shook our heads in disbelief. At this point, a dozen zebra entered the water, some coming to nudge the victim on its nose (were they saying goodbye?); others to approach the crocodile’s tail ( were they attempting to distract it?).
I can never be sure what exactly happened next, but there was a rush of hooves and a scurry of stripes, and out of the water shot the zebra. As it trotted up the bank, its wet coat glistening in the midday sun, there was no visible sign of injury on its legs or hooves, as it disappeared into the herd. Judging from the snorting and the nudging, it was clear that they were as relieved about its escape from the jaws of death as we were. We cheered and clapped for Team Zebra … and then, we went on our way. — © Lesley Brown
Share your travel experiences with us in Readers’ World. We need a high-resolution photo — at least 500KB — and a story of no more than 800 words. Winners receive R1 000. E-mail travelmag@sundaytimes.co.za