by Joy Adamson
Next morning we decided to explore the forty-mile valley in which was the cubs’ ravine. For a while we were able to follow a car track, then it faded out and we were obliged to plough our way through shoulder-high grass and whistling thorns.
In the circumstances, we naturally saw very little game; only rhino seemed to favour this spiky wilderness, and how we envied them their pachydermatousness.
The valley ended in a wide open plain in which stood a solitary borassus palm, a species which usually grows near water; beside it was a herd of topi, which we estimated to number over 3,000 head. We had never before seen so large a herd, though we were later told that in this plain, which is their favourite concentration ground, up to 5,000 have been counted.
It was late afternoon when we got back to the cub valley and we were delighted to find the cubs waiting for us. We hoped it might be a sign that they were abandoning their purely nocturnal habits and learning to behave like the lions of the Serengeti, which, assured of their safety, spend their days in the open. If our cubs were able to adapt themselves to a different ecological environment this would not only benefit them, but also make a precedent for moving other doomed lions into new areas with good hope of the success of such releases. It was a cold night and the cubs went off at 10 p.m.
When we returned to camp we found a letter from the director in which he confirmed that we must leave the Serengeti on 31 May and added that between now and then we were not permitted to bring any more meat into the camp to feed the cubs.
We drove up the ravine and found the cubs waiting for us. Jespah was off his feed, did not touch any of the meat and seemed listless. We wondered whether, although it appeared healthy, the open wound round the arrowhead had become infected. Another possibility was that like Elsa at the time of her first release in country very similar to the Serengeti, he had developed an infection due to tsetse fly or ticks and was suffering from fever. He had been listless for a couple of days; now his condition was alarming.
Next morning, feeling anxious about him, we walked along the edge of the cubs’ ravine and looked through our field glasses to see if we could catch sight of him amongst the thick canopy of vegetation. In time we did see the cubs but they spotted us and, alarmed by our presence, rushed towards the cliff. I called to them but they went off. So we set off for home.
The few miles that lay between the cubs’ ravine and our camp was the most attractive part of the valley.
As we picked our way across the black rocks it struck me that one of these smooth slabs would make a perfect tombstone for Elsa’s grave, and I thought it fitting that her slab should come from the cubs’ new home. To test its durability I scratched a slab with a piece of quartz but could hardly make any impression. Later when a stone-mason engraved Elsa’s name on one of these slabs he broke five chisels and told us that neither granite nor marble was so hard and that he would never work again on such a rock.
Next evening the cubs only appeared after dark. This was disappointing as it showed that they were not yet prepared to abandon their nocturnal habits.
After one lap of cod-liver oil Jespah retired behind the car; when the other cubs had eaten they went over to him and tried to make him play with them, but, though he licked them, he wouldn’t move.
At dawn Gopa and Little Elsa had another meal and then went over to Jespah and tried to prod him into going to the ravine with them. After a time he rose slowly and began to follow them. I called and he returned and stood in front of me. I pointed to the meat and talked to him, as I did when I wanted Elsa to eat, and he reacted as his mother used to – went over to the kill and began his meal. It was the first time in three days that we had seen him eat.
Each time Gopa and Little Elsa called him, he looked up and only started eating again when I said: ‘Come on, Jespah, nyama [meat], nyama, eat a little more.’
Eventually Gopa came back, and jumping on to Jespah’s rump persuaded him to go to the ravine with the others.
Having found I still had some terramycin I decided to start treating Jespah with it that evening. It was lucky that only he was prepared to take his cod-liver oil from the dish I held out for him. Otherwise, no doubt Gopa would have got most of it.
The remains of the carcase were already very high and the cubs, accustomed to fresh meat, sniffed at it with expressions of disgust.
The widespread belief that lions purposefully leave meat in order to allow it to become putrid before eating it is erroneous, though of course when desperately hungry they will eat anything. I could only hope that our cubs would soon learn the art of providing themselves with fresh food; and as I was thinking this Little Elsa walked off determinedly and looked as though she might be going off to search for a kill. Gopa followed her, but Jespah lay still, only occasionally raising his head. When his brother and sister returned he played with them as best he could but it was only too evident that he was ill.
It was unthinkable that we should leave him in this state. So we sent Ibrahim to Seronera with a letter to the park warden explaining the situation and asking for a few days’ extension of our permit to stay in the Serengeti. Meanwhile we had no food to give him. So, as we were very short of time, George took it upon himself to drive forty miles outside the boundary of the park to shoot a kill. We realized that this was contrary to our instructions but we hoped that in the circumstances we might be forgiven. Near the border we noticed a low-flying aircraft which was, we imagined, carrying out a migration census. On our return to camp the park warden who had been a passenger in the plane and had seen George’s kill met us and asked us to explain why we had shot an animal in defiance of the prohibition. We apologized, told him of the circumstances and begged him to extend our permit to camp near the cubs. He said that he was not in a position to grant the extension and advised us to get an interview with the director at Arusha. The warden offered to hire a plane for me by radio from Nairobi. It was to collect me next morning. That night we spent as usual with the cubs. Next day I flew across fascinating country to Arusha where I had been invited to lunch with the director. He was displeased at George’s shooting of the last kill against his orders. I apologized and explained our predicament. He then suggested that if we were not happy about the situation, we might recapture the cubs and move them to one of two game reserves in Tanganyika where we would not be subject to the regulations of the national parks and could stay with the lions if they were ill. I was not anxious to move the cubs a second time and after we had looked at a map I was convinced that on other grounds as well the plan was not advisable: both the suggested areas were very narrow and I realized that the cubs might easily cross the protecting boundary and enter thickly populated country. After I had rejected this proposal the director agreed to extend our permit to enable us to stay eight more days with the cubs and to allow us to make three more kills outside the Serengeti between now and 8 June when we had to leave. To avoid any misunderstanding he put this in writing and left it to us to decide whether to remove the cubs from the Serengeti or after 8 June let nature take its course. He also offered to arrange a meeting between ourselves and the chairman of the trustees if we wanted to put our case before them and ask for more help than he himself could give us.
I arrived back at the camp in a heavy rainstorm feeling depressed and rather ill. All the same, I went up at once to the ravine to join George but no cubs appeared that night and all we heard was the barking of zebra. Next morning I had a high temperature. In spite of this we searched for the cubs in the morning but found no trace of them.
The cubs arrived only after dark and made straight for the cod-liver oil. Lately they had become so greedy for it that we had been obliged to ration them, in order not to overfeed them.
When I held out the dish which contained meat mixed with terramycin to Jespah he lifted his paw to push it nearer to the ground, then stopped and kept his paw suspended in the air while he ate up the meat. I wondered whether he sensed my fear that if his sharp claws touched my hand I should get scr
atched.
Later a faint lion call attracted the cubs’ attention and they went off in the direction it came from.
During their absence we were kept busy chasing hyenas away from the carcase; but they only left when the cubs returned. They quickly ate some more of the meat and then retired into the ravine. As soon as they had gone the hyenas came back and stayed till we hoisted the kill out of their reach. On the following night the lion called again, and the cubs who had hardly touched their dinner went off in his direction. On the third evening Gopa and Little Elsa were very hungry and ate ravenously, but Jespah didn’t eat. His condition, thanks no doubt to the terramycin, had improved but he was still far from well.
In view of this, I decided to visit the chairman and put our problem to him. I pointed out that Jespah’s arrow wound might require to be operated, and that in his present low state he needed our help, and I stressed that if we abandoned the cubs before they became competent hunters, the rehabilitation was not likely to be a success. My arguments failed to convince the chairman or to make him relent over the date fixed for our departure.
This meant that we had only three days left, but, on my way home, it suddenly occurred to me that no one could prevent me from staying on in the Serengeti as a tourist.
I would have to camp at the official sites and this would entail a long daily drive to see the cubs. I would not be able to feed them, or to go out at night; still, it would enable me to keep in touch with them. I therefore changed direction and drove straight to Seronera to book a camping site. There I was told that my request would have to be submitted to the director. This surprised me, but I put it in, hoping for the best.
Eager to make the most of the few days that remained, we drove to the ravine but the cubs didn’t appear till the evening. While we were waiting we watched a solitary impala ram which we had noticed on each of our visits to the glen. He never joined a herd of impala and took no notice of the cubs who for their part never attempted to stalk him. We were astonished at this truce which as it turned out was to last for all the time we spent in the Serengeti.
When Jespah arrived he took his medicine, Gopa rushed at the meat and Little Elsa went off after some zebra which were barking in the distance. She came back very hungry and cuffed Jespah when he tried to share the meal, so he went away good-naturedly and sat a little way off till she had finished; then he took the bones in his paws, and rolling his head from side to side scraped a meagre meal from them. He was generous and unselfish as Elsa used to be.
George went next morning to get the last kill we were allowed to shoot for the cubs.
When we returned to the ravine and produced the meat the cubs pounced on it. I hated to think that from now on they would have to go through a period of starvation before they had grown into competent hunters. At least Gopa and Little Elsa were in good condition but I felt very concerned about Jespah.
When it started to rain the cubs disappeared and George hoisted the kill, but they had not gone far. When they saw what was happening they rushed back to the meat and hung on to it till we feared the rope would break. When George lowered it they at once seized the carcase by the throat, trying to suffocate the animal as though it had been a live beast. This was reassuring for it showed that they knew at least the first rule of killing.
On 7 June I went to Seronera where I learned that so long as I behaved as an ordinary visitor I could stay on.
While returning to the camp I saw the dark-maned lion again; he was accompanied by his mate and another lioness who had two cubs; they looked about five weeks old. I felt sure that this was the pride which had chased our cubs from the release point some weeks ago.
We passed the last night we were to be allowed to spend in the open, shivering in the car under a deluge of rain. The noise was so loud that it drowned our calls to the cubs. Even after the rain stopped they failed to appear and, given the cubs’ nocturnal habits, it might well be the last chance we should have of seeing them. It was therefore with great sadness that I heard the sleepy twitter of awakening birds and saw dawn break.
A flock of starlings were making their breakfast off the kill and went for George when he began to lower the carcase. We broke up the larger bones and scraped out the marrow of which the cubs were so fond, then we dragged all the meat into the ravine and covered it with branches, hoping that no hyena would discover it before the cubs arrived. Then we searched for them; slowly we went along the ravine calling all the familiar names, but saw no sign of the cubs.
While we were packing up I scanned the surroundings through my field glasses and saw two bateleur eagles soaring high up in the sky. I had noticed them some days earlier gliding through the air, hardly ever changing the perfect curve of their wings. Evidently their territory lay above the cubs’ ravine.
George had already started up the engine of his car when on top of the escarpment I noticed a yellow speck which I soon recognized as Jespah’s head. I called and in response Gopa and Little Elsa showed up. We couldn’t go away without saying goodbye to the cubs, so George switched off his engine and we climbed the escarpment.
Gopa and Little Elsa, unused to being followed into their fortress, bolted for the cover of the ravine, but Jespah sat calmly waiting for us and allowed us to take some photographs of him. Then he slowly went off to join the others, stopping several times to look back at us. Should we ever see the cubs again?
37. I Become a Tourist in the Serengeti
It took most of the day to pack up the camp and it was after teatime before we reached Seronera, where the three wardens and their families live close to the lodge which provides accommodation for tourists. If visitors prefer to camp they can do so in an authorized area about a mile away. I chose to live in the open and watch the dawn from my bed in the tent.
After George had gone we began to pitch camp when a cloudburst soaked most of our possessions. During the night several hyenas prowled around and a lion came so close to my tent that I could hear his breathing; luckily the boys were sleeping in the lorry so I did not have to worry about their safety.
Later in the day I went to Seronera to make arrangements for my stay and found that I had to hand in our firearms as it was against the regulations for visitors to keep them.
When I asked the warden what I should do if lions visited me during the night he grinned and replied: ‘Shoo them off!’ And certainly by the time I left the Serengeti I became quite an expert at the ‘shooing off’ technique.
Early next morning I went with Nuru and a local driver to look for the cubs; it was a twenty-five-mile drive over skiddy roads to the ravine. We found the three of them lying under a large tree. It was nine o’clock by then and I had never before seen them in the open at such a late hour; I wondered whether they might have been awaiting our return. The cubs never tried to find us but had always waited for us to come and look for them. This was just what Elsa used to do. Indeed, after her release she always treated us as visitors to her territory. I thought that the cubs’ present behaviour might show that they did not feel deserted and were sufficiently settled in their new environment to feel at home: in fact, that the rehabilitation had been a success.
I called to the cubs, but they did not move, and when I got out of the car they bolted. I followed them in the car until Gopa and Jespah settled under a tree; by then Little Elsa had disappeared. Next I went to the ravine to see what had happened to the last kill, but could find no trace of the meat.
After this I returned and seeing the two brothers still under their tree, I showed myself and called to them, but they just sat watching me and didn’t stir, so I settled down to write letters. Later Gopa went down to the river and after a while was followed by Jespah moving slowly. Two hours later a zebra thundered past, followed by a herd of impala racing as though in flight. Thinking that the cubs must be chasing them I drove to the place where I had seen Jespah disappear and nearly collided with a young blond-maned lion and farther down the valley I saw a full-grown lioness and later two ot
hers; but there was no sign of the cubs.
By this time it was necessary to start back for Seronera if we were to be there before dark. We had trouble with the car and next morning by the time the garage had put it right it was 10 a.m., so I had little hope of finding the cubs in the open at the hour at which we would reach the ravine.
As we were driving along I saw a magnificent rufus-maned lion replete and sleepy at a kill; three jackals were also tucking into it but the lion never so much as flicked an ear. Nor did he pay any attention to two young lions with blond ruffs which were sitting some hundred yards away under a tree.
When we reached the ravine it was deserted except for the lone impala ram.
Thinking that the cause of the cubs’ nervousness yesterday might have been due to the presence of a strange driver, whom I had engaged, I had taken only Nuru with me, but we had no luck and had to start back for Seronera after a blank day. The blond-maned lion and his party had not moved from the place where we had seen them in the morning.
On our way to the ravine next morning I noticed a dozen spotted hyenas moving in one direction; farther away I saw a dark mass of animals which seemed to be in a heap. Taking my field glasses I observed six wild dogs on a kill. When they moved aside for a moment I was able to distinguish a hyena cub struggling to its feet, but a second later the dogs were on it again. I couldn’t watch six dogs tear a cub to pieces, so I drove ahead as fast as I could and the dogs retreated. I manoeuvred the car between them and the cub until it was able to walk slowly over to the hyena pack. The little hyena had some bleeding scratches on its back but did not seem to be in pain or seriously injured. It stopped often to look back at the dogs. When a second cub advanced towards them I didn’t know in what direction to move the car or how to head it off quickly enough to protect both cubs simultaneously; but eventually the adult hyenas took over and kept the youngsters safely in their midst. The dogs then developed another interest and, seeming to play, jumped on their hind legs at each other as they cunningly manoeuvred close to a few Tommies. Suddenly four of the hyenas rushed at the dogs which, to my surprise, ran away. Certainly hyenas have strong jaws and as a pack can be very dangerous, but I would never have expected wild dogs to abandon a victim whose blood they had already tasted when attacked by an inferior number of hyenas.