Born Free

by Joy Adamson

  In the end, I decided to risk leaving her for an hour and a half, the time it would take me to go to and from a bad ford where I thought the truck might be stuck. Less than two miles from camp I met the truck which had got stuck both going to and returning from Isiolo. The driver had brought the drug for Elsa. I wrote a letter to Ken, telling him that Elsa was in desperate need of a vet and asked him to get in touch with you. Then I sent the driver straight back to Isiolo in my Land Rover.

  Fortunately Elsa had not moved. The cubs had arrived and I gave them some meat.

  It was impossible to get Elsa to swallow the drug. She had become very restless, would get up, move a few paces and then lie down again. All my attempts to make her drink failed.

  At about eleven at night she moved into my tent near the studio and lay there for an hour. Then she got up, walked slowly down to the river, waded in and stood there for several minutes making attempts to drink but unable to swallow. Eventually, she returned to my tent and again lay down in it.

  The cubs came to the tent and Jespah nuzzled his mother, but she did not respond.

  At about a quarter to two in the morning, Elsa left the tent and went back to the studio and into the water. I tried to stop her, but she went resolutely on till she reached the sandbank under the trees where she had so often played with the cubs. Here she lay on the sodden mudbank, evidently in great distress, alternately sitting up and lying down, her breathing more laboured than ever.

  I tried to move her back to the dry sand of the studio, but she seemed beyond making any effort. It was a terrible and harrowing sight. It even crossed my mind that I ought to put her out of her misery, but I believed that there was still a chance that you might arrive with a vet in time to help her.

  At about 4.30 I called all the men in camp and with their help put Elsa on the stretcher and with much difficulty carried her back to my tent. She settled down and I lay beside her, completely exhausted.

  As dawn was breaking, she suddenly got up, walked to the front of the tent and collapsed. I held her head in my lap. A few minutes later she sat up, gave a most heart-rending terrible cry and fell over.

  Elsa was dead.

  The cubs were close by, obviously bewildered and distressed. Jespah came up to his mother and licked her face. He seemed frightened, and rejoined the others who were hiding in the bush a few yards away.

  Half an hour after Elsa died, John MacDonald, the Senior Veterinary Officer from Isiolo, arrived. Although George hated the idea, he agreed in the interests of medicine and of the cubs themselves, that a post-mortem should be carried out to establish the cause of death.

  When this was over, Elsa was buried under the acacia tree where she had often rested (it stands on the river bank, close to the camp); at George’s command the Game Scouts fired three volleys over the grave. The reports echoed back from Elsa’s rock; perhaps somewhere in the sea of bush her mate may have heard them and paused.

  It was 24 January, 1961.

  26. Guardians of Elsa’s Children

  Now we were the guardians of Elsa’s children.

  After sunset, I went to the river and sat on the sandbank where, a year ago, Elsa had introduced her cubs to me. I sat there for a long time. Suddenly, from the other side of the river, I heard a faint ‘tciang’. Instantly I gave all the calls which I hoped the cubs might recognize, and eventually, through the darkness, caught a glimpse of Jespah peeping between the undergrowth; but he vanished as quickly as he appeared.

  I placed some meat in the open where the cubs could see it, but they did not come, nor did they give any response to my calls. The only sound I heard was the howling of an unusual number of hyenas. Later, we secured the carcase near George’s tent; but the cubs did not come during the night and as we listened to the sinister chorus of hyenas we became very anxious, for we did not think that they would stand a chance if they were attacked by such powerful predators.

  Next morning, we continued our search. We followed the spoor which Jespah had left on the previous evening. It led upstream, to the place near the island where Elsa had collapsed on the day before she died. We took some meat with us, hoping to tempt the cubs back to camp by giving them only a little at a time, but when we saw Jespah, hiding in a thicket and looking hungrily at the meat, we dropped the whole lot. He grabbed it at once, and ate it ravenously. Then I heard a rustling noise and saw Little Elsa about twenty yards away, but as soon as we looked at each other she bolted.

  Haunted by the thought of the many hyenas we had heard during the night, we wanted to make the cubs stay close to the camp, so we did not provide them with any more food, hoping that hunger would force them to come to us.

  Then, as Ken had to return to Isiolo, we went to see him off. When we returned we took out a ration of meat for Little Elsa and Gopa, but when we reached the place where we had left Jespah, he bounced out of a bush and seized the meat before we could stop him. Feeling sorry for Little Elsa and Gopa, who must, I knew, be terribly hungry, we went back and fetched the remains of the carcase. Attracted by it, Gopa appeared. We then dragged the meat towards the camp and were followed by all three cubs, who were obviously very nervous. We floated the carcase over the river, but the cubs remained on the far bank. For two hours they watched us guarding the meat and calling to them, but made no attempt to swim across. So we fastened the carcase to a tree and returned to camp. Meanwhile, the men had collected three lorry loads of stones from the Big Rock; these we piled above Elsa’s grave in a large cairn and we cleared the surrounding ground of grass.

  At dusk, George and I went to see what was happening to the cubs. Jespah and Little Elsa were resting placidly by the meat, but Gopa was still on the far bank. Suspecting that he might come over to defend the kill, George began to drag it towards the camp, but was stopped by Jespah, who bounced on it. We returned to the tents, hoping that Gopa might eventually pluck up courage to come over and get his share.

  Later, when we were sitting outside George’s tent, which was still pitched close to the ramp, we heard Jespah’s ‘tciang’. Quickly we told the boys to bring another carcase. When they did so, Jespah stalked them but made no attempt to touch the meat and, as soon as it was placed near the tent, he disappeared. We had left the only chain with which we could secure the carcase at the place where we had seen the cubs during the afternoon, so we went to fetch it, but found both chain and meat gone.

  When we got back to camp all three cubs were tearing at the kill, but bolted at our approach. Evidently Jespah had come to reconnoitre and then called his brother and sister to join in the meal. From the moment of Elsa’s death he always acted as leader and protector to them. It was only after we had gone to bed that the cubs came back and finished off the carcase. At dawn I went in search of them and found all three on the Whuffing Rock; though they saw me they did not answer my calls. I collected George and we stopped on the ridge which faced the rock but was divided from it by a wide chasm, hoping that this would reassure the cubs. They reappeared and for two hours just sat looking at us without stirring. All our attempts to talk to them were met only by their scrutinizing gaze, and I began to feel as though I were on trial for murder. We had to return home alone; and it was long after dark before the cubs arrived. Jespah took immediate possession of the meat and dragged it over to the others who were hiding nearby in a bush.

  I went close to them and called softly ‘Jespah, Jespah!’ He came up to me and allowed me to pat him. I was happy to find myself trusted as I used to be. After this he returned to Little Elsa and Gopa, then I got a stick and, hoping he might play with it, swung it round; he came up and we had a tug-of-war, at the end of which he proudly carried the stick to the other cubs.

  They stayed all that night in the camp; whenever I woke up I heard them moving around and also the sardonic laughter of the hyenas.

  In the morning, George had to go upriver to inspect a Game Scout post. I decided to keep the cubs company, hoping to gain their confidence by getting them accustomed to my presence du
ring the heat of the day, when they were less active. I found Jespah on the opposite side of the river; he had been dozing under a bush and allowed me to come within a few yards, but watched very alertly every movement I made. After about an hour, he got up and went off. I followed his spoor, which led me to a tree with a large fork which stood on the bank of a deep lugga. Here I caught a glimpse of the other two cubs bolting round a bend.

  Suddenly I had a strong feeling that I was being watched. I looked up and saw Jespah sitting in the fork of the tree. He jumped down and ran off to join Gopa and Little Elsa. I stayed for an hour under the tree, so as to give the cubs time to settle down, then I followed and found them at the bend of the lugga, Jespah keeping the rearguard. I approached to within ten yards, then sat down and kept still for another hour, after which I cautiously moved to within three yards of him. Jespah promptly bolted, but when I called to him, he turned, and came very close and looked me straight in the eyes, after which he left the lugga.

  It was impossible to see spoor in the long grass, so I walked downstream. Again I had the sensation of being watched and, turning, saw Jespah crouching behind me. I sat down, hoping to encourage him to do the same, but he retreated as quietly as he had approached. I stayed where I was for two hours, and then noticed a slight movement some twenty yards away and immediately afterwards observed two cubs dozing under a bush. None of us moved till teatime, when George arrived, then the cubs disappeared and we caught a glimpse of Jespah running as fast as he could through the dense bush.

  All this made us realize that it was entirely due to Elsa that her cubs had ever tolerated our presence. Since her death, they not only refused to answer our calls, but bolted every time they heard or scented us. So as not to frighten them away from camp by our presence, we placed some meat on the sandbank below our tents, and then went in search of plants for Elsa’s grave.

  Early in the morning, we were woken by the excited chatter of baboons coming from the far side of the river, and got up and crossed to the opposite bank to see what it was about. We soon saw the cubs; they were hiding. We had brought two pieces of meat with us, one of which we gave them; the other we held up for them to see and then carried it back to our side of the river, placing it in their view. I spent the whole morning guarding it against vultures, while the cubs watched me but made no attempt to swim over.

  At midday, knowing how hungry they must be, I could bear it no longer and floated the meat across. Jespah at once dragged it into a thick cluster of palm trees. I waded back and, having hidden myself from them, watched the cubs eating voraciously and sometimes going down to the water for a drink. Every time they came into the open they looked round nervously. When the meal was over, I saw Jespah bury the stomach contents and then climb up into a tree. He spent a long time there before joining the others in the bush.

  About teatime, George and I went to have another look; we saw the cubs, but they ran away as we approached. After dark the hyenas began howling from across the river and I worried about the cubs, until about midnight I heard their father call. He started from high upstream and gradually came nearer, until I heard him just opposite Elsa’s grave. He roared three times, at short intervals. Was he calling Elsa?

  It was a clear night, the stars seemed very large and the Southern Cross stood right above Elsa’s grave. When their father roared the cubs must have been close to him, for at dawn we found their spoor leading from the camp across the river. We spent all the next day following their pugmarks but did not find the cubs; just before dark, at a point far from the camp, we recognized the spoor of the cubs’ father and those of the cubs were beside his.

  The next day was occupied by a fruitless search, during the course of which we ran into several buffalo and rhino and were charged by a porcupine. In the way of spoor we noticed only those of a single lion, far downstream, and of a lion and lioness upriver. We wondered whether these might have been made by the fierce lioness and her mate?

  In the evening, we tied a carcase to the Land Rover and hoped the cubs might come to it, but we waited in vain.

  It was just a week since Elsa had died. We had expected her children to become dependent upon us, but in fact they had avoided us as far as hunger permitted. Looking back, it seems to me as though there had been a pattern running through Elsa’s life of which even her untimely death was a part. While she was alive her stigma of being semi-tame was bound to react upon her cubs and diminish their chances of living a natural life. It was because of their mother that they were to be expelled from their home and obliged to live on the grim shores of Lake Rudolf. Now that she was dead, it seemed possible that they might either be adopted by wild lions and allowed to remain where they were or, if not this, then at least permitted to live in a game reserve or a national park, from both of which Elsa herself would have been banned on account of her friendship with human beings. The cubs were just the right age to adapt themselves to either alternative. I wondered whether Elsa, as so often in the past, had not solved a problem in her own way?

  Worried by the problem of how to regain the trust of the cubs, who would need our help for at least another ten months, I lay awake that night. It was exactly a year since Elsa had brought them over the river to introduce them to us.

  I did not feel well enough to go in search of them again until the following afternoon, then Nuru and I circled the rocks, fruitlessly; on our way home, we tracked a hyena spoor which led to the doum-palm logs near the camp, and there we found the cubs. Jespah followed me back to the tents and allowed me to stroke him while the boys were getting meat for him. When it appeared he pounced on it and dragged it quickly to the other cubs who were hiding. Then, before starting his own meal, he returned to me and placing himself in his safe position, invited me to play with him. He tilted his head and rolled on his back, but as I came up to him made a lightning swipe at me; instantly I jerked back. I had often watched him playfully pressing his sharp claws into his mother’s pelt – how could he know that my skin was different? To console him, I rolled an old tyre towards him and offered him a stick, but though he made an attempt to play with these lifeless toys, he soon got bored and went back to the other cubs.

  Hoping to find him in a quieter mood after his meal, I waited for a couple of hours and then approached him. Again he gave a quick swipe with his paws, which made any further advances on my part impossible. I tried talking softly to Gopa, but he only growled at me and moved off with flattened ears. Jespah followed him, and then placed himself between the two of us, obviously protecting his brother. Suddenly we were interrupted by a snort from the salt lick. While I collected my torch, Jespah removed the carcase into a thorn thicket.

  Although so young, and himself in need of help, he was proving a responsible leader of the pride, always ready to care for his brother and sister.

  At teatime George arrived from Isiolo.

  We had now received the result of Elsa’s post-mortem. She had died of an infection by a tick-borne parasite called babesia, which destroys the red blood corpuscles. The 4 per cent infection which they found had proved fatal because of the weak condition to which she had been reduced by the bites of the mango flies.

  It was the first time that such an infection had been found in a lion.

  27. Plans to Move the Cubs

  On the day of George’s return the cubs only came into camp after dark, Jespah first, followed later by Gopa and Little Elsa. Again Jespah invited me to play with him, and now that George was back I felt that I could risk a scratch, so, overcoming my fear, I held my hand out. Before I knew what was happening Jespah tore open one of my finger joints. It was not a serious wound, but it was bad enough to make me realize sadly that we two could never play together.

  George brought the news that Major Grimwood would be passing through Isiolo the next day, so I decided to meet him there, since we wanted to discuss the cubs’ future with him. If it were necessary to move them we hoped that he would help us find a home for them in an East African game reserve.<
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  Major Grimwood proved most sympathetic, and promised to contact the authorities of the National Parks of Kenya and Tanganyika.

  I brought an old crate back to camp with me. It had originally been made to take Elsa to Holland. Now I hoped to induce the cubs to feed inside it.

  This was our plan: the cubs must get accustomed to feeding in the large communal crate, placed on the ground. Then, one day, when all three were inside, we would close the door and, disguising the tranquillizer in marrow, we would administer a dose in each of the three pie dishes. We would push the dishes through a second door, small enough to prevent the cubs from escaping through it. The cubs would be safe inside the crate during the time the drug was taking effect. This was important, for we didn’t want them to wander about in a state of semi-unconsciousness and perhaps become a prey to predators. As soon as they had been immobilized by the drug, we intended to transfer them to three separate crates, specially designed to fit the back of a five-ton lorry.

  I arrived about midnight and found all the cubs guarding their meat close to the tents. They did not mind the glare of the headlights, even when I turned them in their direction. We had noticed that though they were so nervous during the day, they showed little apprehension when it was dark. George had to return next morning to Isiolo, so I once more found myself in charge of the camp. I always slept inside my Land Rover when I was alone, and parked it close to the meat as a guard against predators.