Born Free

by Joy Adamson

  We came down rapidly to an altitude of 5,000 feet, at which level the sun was so warm that we were able to shed some of our clothes. After passing the famous Olduvai Gorge, we knew that we now had only some seventy miles to go. The road had been fair so far; suddenly it deteriorated into one of the worst tracks we had ever travelled over. The ruts were knee deep with lava dust, and rattling along them we stirred up a choking cloud which penetrated everything.

  As the heat increased we removed the tarpaulins which covered the lorry, to prevent the cubs from suffocating, but this resulted in their raw wounds being covered with dust; they were indeed having a terrible time for they were bounced about mercilessly as the lorry lurched from one pothole to another. We had to stop often to jack the vehicles out of deep holes and replace broken springs. I did not know which was worse for the cubs, the icy wet and cold we had just left behind, or the infernal heat and appalling dust of the next fifty miles. We were two hours late when we reached Naabi Hill at which we were to meet the park warden; the poor man had spent the time watching our convoy creeping along like a caterpillar, raising a trail of dust in its wake.

  We had to cut our greeting short, for heavy storm clouds were gathering and we still had a long way to go through black cotton soil, the worst ground to cross when wet. On our way we passed vast herds of wildebeest and zebra; these were only the forerunners of the annual migration, but neither of us had ever before seen such an assembly of wild animals. Dodging between the herds and avoiding swampy patches we reached the release point in the late afternoon.

  34. The Release

  The cubs’ new home was a very beautiful place lying at the head of a broad valley some forty miles long. On one side, a steep escarpment rose to a plateau, on the other, there was a succession of hills. Close by was a river which gradually wound its way to the centre of the valley and flowed down it. Its banks were covered with dense undergrowth and fine trees, which provided perfect cover for all kinds of animals. The valley looked like a park, with clusters of thorn trees and bush which higher up the hills increased in density. But for the mosquitoes and the tsetse flies, it was a paradise – and perhaps we ought to have regarded the tsetse as its winged guardians, for they are the best protectors of wild animals: since they are fatal to men and to their livestock, they cause them to keep away.

  Our first thought was to see what we could do to make the cubs more comfortable. We chose a stout acacia tree, attached the block and tackle to one of its branches, and swung the crates to the ground. It was three days since the cubs had been captured and they had almost reached the limit of their endurance. Their eyes were deeply sunken and they lay apathetically on the floor of their cages, apparently too tired to take the least interest in their surroundings. How glad we were that we had decided to bring the cumbersome communal crate in which they would be able to recover from the strain of their journey.

  After opening the back of it, we placed Little Elsa’s and Gopa’s boxes with their doors opposite the opening, then with block and tackle we raised the trap-doors of the cages.

  For a few moments nothing happened, then, suddenly, Gopa rushed into Little Elsa’s box; he sat on her and they licked and hugged each other, overwhelmed with joy at being reunited. Quickly we closed the door behind them and replaced Gopa’s empty crate by the one containing Jespah. The instant we opened this door he was out like a flash, and covered his brother and sister, as if to protect them from further disaster, and started to lick and embrace them.

  As we watched them we became more than ever convinced that we had done well to move the cubs in crates which allowed them to see each other. This had probably resulted in some extra chafing, but it would be easier to heal wounds than broken spirits. We were delighted to see that in spite of all they had gone through the cubs were as friendly as they had always been.

  Now we had to see that they got rested and made up for their lost meals. We put a carcase into the communal crate, told our men to camp a little way off and parked our Land Rovers right and left of the crate to protect the cubs from any prowlers that might come by night.

  By 9 p.m. all this had been done, and we were ready for a good sleep. But Gopa soon became restless and often during the night I heard him shifting about, and the crunching of bones. Next morning I was glad to see that there was nothing left of the meal we had prepared the night before. The cubs had gone back into the filthy travelling crates; they seemed to cling to them as the one familiar place which gave them a sense of security in their strange surroundings. As a result we were unable to remove the rotten meat.

  Until they became less bewildered it was plain that we must keep them confined; to entice them into the communal crate we put some fresh meat into it. We thought it very important to leave them undisturbed, so we gave strict orders to our staff to keep away from the crates, and we ourselves went to find a camping site at least a mile away. After pitching our tents we came back and saw that the cubs had not moved out of their dirty cages which were buzzing with flies. Ignoring their protests, we cleaned out the crates as best we could. It was not an easy task, for the cubs defended their little territory, growling and scratching. Both George and I were sick several times as we scraped out the filth, so when the repulsive operation was completed, we went back to the camp to have a bath and the first hot meal we had eaten for four days.

  While we were eating the park warden came to discuss our camping arrangements. The park authorities had kindly given us permission to look after the cubs until they had settled in their new home and could fend for themselves. The park warden told us that meanwhile we could feed them on game animals shot outside the Serengeti Park.

  When we got back to the cubs we found all three lying in the communal crate. Their faces were a shocking sight, for the big cage was made of weld-mesh wire which chafed them even more than the iron bars of the travelling crates. Every time they pressed against it their wounds reopened, and they made matters worse by using their paws to try and keep the flies off their sores. Poor Gopa was the most battered and he and Little Elsa growled savagely whenever we came close to the crate. Jespah did not mind our presence and even allowed us to pluck at the arrowhead; but we failed to extract it.

  We settled down for the night, the communal cage sheltered between our two cars; soon afterwards we heard the first lion approaching. The whuffing came rapidly nearer, until we could distinguish several animals circling round our little sanctuary and then saw their eyes reflecting the light of our torches. The cubs listened intently to their grunts, while we shouted at them trying to shoo them away. When all was quiet again, I called the cubs softly by their names and soon afterwards heard them tearing at their meat. I was disturbed to notice that one of them was breathing heavily and I feared it might be going to develop pneumonia. But when it became light I was pleased to see that, in spite of the heavy dew, none of the cubs seemed to be seriously ill – in fact they looked very content and their bellies were full.

  The morning was brisk and fresh; even at this altitude – about 3,500 feet – the air was much cooler than at Elsa’s camp. In the evening we had covered the crate with a tarpaulin; now we removed it as the sun was rising. As soon as it got hot the horrid flies appeared and literally covered the cubs. Poor Jespah kept brushing one front paw against his sores, while with the other he hugged Little Elsa.

  After breakfast, George drove off to shoot a kill outside the Serengeti while I remained with the cubs. Whenever he gave me an opportunity to do so I tried to remove the arrow from Jespah’s rump. He did not mind even when I pinched the skin and tugged as hard as I could, but the barb remained jammed. Jespah had been hit five weeks ago and I did not like the look of the wound; but as the vet had advised against operating for a few more weeks, I had to resign myself to waiting.

  Later in the morning the plague of flies made the cubs very restless; they paced up and down, rubbing their heads against the wire and reopening their wounds, but in the end cuddled up together, looking at me reproachfully
. In spite of being caged, dirty and covered with bleeding wounds, they were as dignified as only lions could be under such conditions.

  I knew that the Serengeti was far the best home we could have found for them, but the climate and the ecological conditions were very different from those of their old home and most of the local animals belonged to species unknown to them. Even the local lions were of a different sub-species from theirs. What would their mutual reactions be and what trouble might arise over territorial rights? Since there was so much game about that every animal could be assured of an ample food supply, I could only hope that the lions of the Serengeti were more tolerant than the Fierce Lioness who had attacked Elsa.

  When George returned about 3 o’clock with a carcase we discussed the question of releasing the cubs. We had intended to keep them confined for another day or two so as to build them up, but the torment of the flies made us change our minds and we decided to release them then and there.

  It was a good time of day, since during the hot hours the cubs were less energetic, therefore less likely to bolt or panic; moreover, at this hour there was less danger of their meeting wild lions. After placing the carcase between the cage and the river, we hoisted one of the travelling boxes, thus opening an exit. When they saw us doing this, the cubs rushed in terror to the farthest corners of the communal crate and huddled close together. After some time, Gopa suspiciously investigated the opening, cautiously retreated several times, and then walked out in a most dignified manner. He took no interest in the kill but continued slowly towards the river. After about a hundred yards he stopped, hesitated, and then walked calmly on.

  Jespah and Little Elsa held each other close; they had puzzled expressions as they watched Gopa walking away. Then Jespah went up to the exit and moved out. He too went very slowly towards the river, pausing several times to look back at his sister.

  Meanwhile Little Elsa rushed frantically up and down the crate or stood upright against it, plainly desperately anxious to join her brothers and not knowing how to do so, till at last she found the way to freedom and trotted quickly after Jespah, and all three cubs disappeared into the reeds. Almost immediately a cloudburst screened them from our view.

  35. The Migration

  As soon as the grey curtain lifted we searched the place where we had last seen the cubs through our field glasses but there was no trace of them. I was glad that at least they had walked straight to the river, since this meant that they would know where to get a drink.

  Although the river was not so lovely as the one at Elsa’s camp, it provided for all the cubs’ needs; its bed carried a slow-flowing stream of fresh water, and even in the dry season a few pools, milky and stagnant, would remain; and beyond the far bank a chain of hills concealed an extensive salt lick which was frequented by many animals. We were happy to think that if only our cubs were accepted by the local lions they were not going to find life too difficult here.

  To avoid quarrels one of our first tasks would be to find a feeding place, where the cubs could eat without the local lions or other predators interfering with them. To secure their meat inside the communal crate would be risky, for in a confined space the cubs might be cornered. What we needed was a shelter for the kill which provided an easy exit for the cubs in case of danger. We placed the communal crate near a large tree; on either side we parked our two cars, thus making an open square. Across a thick branch we hoisted the kill by a block and tackle, which we attached to one of the cars; this would make it easy to lower the meat during the night if the cubs appeared, and while they were absent the carcase would dangle out of reach of thieves. We did not expect the cubs that night, for until they were hungry we did not think they would return to the crates in which they had been trapped.

  Soon after dark a pride of three or more lions came so close that the light from our torches was reflected in their eyes. It was easy to know when a lion was around for he always announced his arrival by a low grunt, but the lionesses sneaked in silently and I only became aware of them when I heard the breathing and by then they were crouching by my car. However, in spite of their cunning they never got at the kill, which we protected.

  Early next morning we screened the river banks through our field glasses, but saw no sign of the cubs. It was only when the first rays of the sun touched the water that we spotted them coming out of the bush, very close to the place at which they had disappeared the night before. They walked halfway up the hill, stopping often, until they reached a thicket; there they lay down. When I called to them they looked at me but did not move. Then a troop of baboons came in sight, and the cubs walked at a leisurely pace to the top of the hill with the baboons close behind them. Finally the whole party disappeared over the crest.

  Hoping to be able to follow the cubs’ movements, we drove across the river and along the far side of the hill, but we did not see them. On our way we were overtaken by a Land Rover which had brought a radiogram saying that our new Bedford was now ready and could be collected at Nairobi. Mail in the Serengeti was dependent on occasional transport, but telegrams were transmitted twice daily by radio from Arusha HQ.

  We sent Ibrahim to Nairobi to return the truck, which Ken and Downey had so kindly hired us at a low price; he was to bring back the Bedford.

  Next evening the cubs arrived at about 9 p.m. They ate hungrily but when George switched on his headlights, bolted and did not return for an hour. This time they settled down to their dinner. Jespah even asked for two rations of cod-liver oil and took it in his usual way out of the pie dish which George held out to him, so we knew that in spite of everything he had lately suffered he still trusted us.

  In the early hours of the morning I heard one of the cubs moving towards the river; it gave a series of short roars, but I noticed that these were not followed by the whuffs with which a lion’s roar should end.

  Little Elsa made the most of her brother’s absence and ate heartily at the kill. Later, all three cubs had a good fill-up for the day, and left at dawn. As soon as they had gone a lion roared loudly; he was alarmingly close and soon I saw a splendid dark-maned lion clearly silhouetted against the blood-red morning sky. He sniffed in the direction of the kill, then walked to the back of George’s car and watched the mosquito net flapping inside. When he showed an inclination to investigate the carcase, we shouted at the top of our voices, and though we couldn’t compete with his roars we did succeed in startling him and he trotted off in the direction of the camp. As soon as he had gone, we hoisted the kill beyond his reach and then drove to the camp to warm ourselves with some hot tea.

  When we got there we saw this dark-maned lion standing within a hundred yards of the excited boys who, from their refuge on top of the lorry, were trying to warn us of his presence. Poor lion, he must have wondered what to make of such an unexpected invasion of his territory.

  Towards evening we went back to our post near the kill. Gopa arrived at dusk, but hid in the tall grass until he thought it was dark enough to be safe for him to come to his meal. Jespah soon followed him, but Little Elsa did not appear. Instead, the dark-maned lion and his two lionesses turned up. They crouched within eight yards of my car while, on the other side of it, Gopa and Jespah crunched their dinner. I was sorry I had not got a flashlight and could not take a photograph of this absurd party; three hungry wild lions crouching in the grass, only separated from the cubs by my car. Jespah and Gopa were not in the least worried by the proximity of the local lions, indeed, they must have felt perfectly safe and have had complete confidence in our ability to protect them, for when they were full up they rolled on their backs.

  Suddenly there was a faint call from over the river; perhaps it was Little Elsa for instantly the brothers sneaked off behind George’s car, avoiding the wild lions. We hoisted the kill and spent the rest of the night keeping the wild pride at bay.

  On 7 May, George left early to get a new kill outside the Serengeti. The track to the border was rough and I did not expect him back till the afternoon.
About lunchtime the clouds gathered threateningly over the camp; as the first drops fell a Land Rover unexpectedly appeared, bringing the Chairman of the Trustees of the National Park and his party which included the park warden. We hurried into the tent to avoid a drenching. The chairman told me that he appreciated the publicity the cubs were giving to the Serengeti, but went on to say that by the end of May we must leave, as the tourist season opened in June and our camping out and feeding the lions might arouse criticism. I was horrified, and I stressed that we really could not abandon them until they were able to fend for themselves. I suggested, to avoid the difficulties he foresaw, that we should move our camp to some place far from the tourist tracks, and I promised to be very discreet about feeding the cubs, but pointed out that by the end of May they would only be seventeen months old and that as a rule lions of that age are not yet able to hunt on their own.

  At this moment George returned, and supported my view. The chairman did not agree to our proposal and left us dismayed. The cubs had only been released a few days; up till then they had been dependent upon us, and we felt it would be monstrous just to dump them and hope that they would manage somehow.

  We were still discussing the situation when more visitors arrived. These included Lee and Matty Talbot, American scientists engaged in ecological research. Their views were most stimulating, they shared many of our interests and we soon became friends.

  When we took up our night station we found the cubs already waiting for us. George was tired after his long drive, so he went to sleep and I sat up to guard the cubs. Jespah came several times to the back of my car asking to be patted and remained quite still while I stroked him. This was the first time he had done such a thing since he had left Elsa’s camp. In spite of what had happened, perhaps because of his mother’s example, he still trusted us and acted as liaison between his brother and sister and ourselves. We were both sure that without him neither Gopa nor Little Elsa would have put up with us. Gopa had the strength and independence to be the leader of a pride, but he lacked the qualities of affection and understanding which distinguished his mother and his brother. Although it was Gopa who left the Tana, made his way back to his old home and spent a week there on his own; although he was the one who first took the risk of making his way to freedom out of the communal crate and claimed the lion’s share of every meal – yet, when he was distressed or frightened, Gopa at once rushed to Jespah for comfort and support, as he used to rush to his mother.