Born Free

by Joy Adamson

  A great many people arrived to see the release. When the doors of the crate were opened and the rhino became visible a din arose. The bewildered beast walked towards a saloon car, whose owner, startled by warning shouts, moved it quickly; then the rhino turned and passed close to the chairman’s car, went slowly towards the river and finally disappeared into a thicket. I was relieved to see its good behaviour, as rhinos particularly when provoked are most unpredictable beasts.

  Billy took this occasion to give the chairman a letter asking him to allow the operation on Jespah to be performed. Soon afterwards we left the Serengeti.

  When we reached the Manyara Escarpment on our way to Arusha, the sun was setting; in the fading light the expanse around us seemed boundless. Suddenly we heard a sound of humming and the notes of an instrument, which sounded like a xylophone, and there, walking across the immense plain, was a small toto playing a home-made instrument, consisting of a few bars of thin metal of differing lengths fixed across a hollow wooden box. As the little boy walked out into the darkness, it seemed to me that Africa was his, or he was Africa – maybe he was.

  The next day, various people who had been attending the conference lunched with us; they included the chairman. We all did our best to persuade him to agree that Jespah should be operated on if this became possible and necessary. We did not succeed. Noel Simon, who was particularly unhappy at our failure, afterwards wrote on behalf of the East African Wild Life Society to the chairman suggesting that Dr Harthoorn should accompany George on a ten-day search for Jespah and if they found him, perform the operation if he thought it advisable. I agreed not to accompany George and Dr Harthoorn, thus giving proof that my insistence that Jespah should be found did not arise from a selfish motive. Then we motored to Nairobi and Billy caught his plane for Europe.

  When I got back to Isiolo I found George there who had news that Elsa’s grave had been wrecked by elephant and rhino, so we set off to investigate, taking with us the slab of stone on which her name had been cut and a bag of cement to make the cairn elephant-proof.

  When we got there we found the damage much less than we had expected. But rhino had obviously used it as a resting place, two of the euphorbias and all the aloes had been eaten, and the bush along the riverbank and in the studio had been trampled flat. I found elephant and rhino droppings everywhere. I had dreaded going back, but now felt strangely at peace, almost as though I had come home.

  Next morning we drove to the Big Rock and collected lorry-loads of large slabs, which we broke off the surface of the rock and rolled down the steep slopes. We wanted to build up the cairn, cover the stones with slabs and cement the whole invisibly together. At the head of the grave we intended to place the black slab on which Elsa’s name and the dates were engraved. For a week we worked at Elsa’s grave and during this time the unusual silence seemed unbearable.

  We waited until the end of October to learn the trustees’ decision. When it came it was a refusal. Determined to find Jespah, we decided to return immediately to the Serengeti although this meant that we should have to race against the rains and search for him under tourist conditions.

  In the NFD the rains had already started and we had a lot of difficulty in getting our two Land Rovers and the Elsa lorry along the flooded road which led to Tanganyika.

  When we reached the Serengeti we found an overcast sky which threatened to release floods at any moment.

  We camped at our former site. The plains were teeming with large herds of wildebeest and zebra and there were many foals and calves amongst them. When we went to the cub valley we were held up at its entrance by a lioness who was blind in one eye and whom we had seen before. She lay in the track and wouldn’t move, so we were obliged to drive round her. In the ravine we found no trace of lion but when we drove on to the parkland valley, we saw a pride of five at a zebra kill and among them two young lions, one with a short blond mane and another with one equally short but darker. We remained there for four hours watching the pair until we were quite sure that they were not Jespah and Gopa.

  We thought that one way of attracting our cubs might be by leaving our empty car out overnight by the ravine. The familiar sight might attract them and if it did so, next morning we would recognise the spoor; or they might even wait for us. We therefore placed my car where it could be seen from a long way off and then went home in George’s.

  That night it poured which delayed our start next morning and later we were held up by finding four lionesses with six very small cubs at a kill near the head of the cub valley. We stopped to watch them and soon noticed that we ourselves were being watched by a fifth lioness who was hiding behind our car. We had never seen so many female lions together but assumed that the male must be close by.

  On our arrival at the ravine we found no lion spoor near the car and decided to leave the Land Rover where it was for some time so we protected the wheels with thorns and removed the spare tyre, because hyenas are not averse to eating rubber.

  By now the rains had set in properly and flooded the country. In spite of the difficult conditions we went every morning first to the ravine, crept up valleys and into the hinterland beyond the escarpment, but we never saw a sign of the cubs. We covered about one hundred miles a day.

  Soon the rains increased and it was no longer possible to drive along the river and even the high ground along the base of the escarpment was in a bad state. Sometimes we got stones to put into ruts; at others we were able to find a termite hill and place its hard cement-like substance under the wheels. Often George had to harness himself to the block and tackle; one end of the rope would be tied to a tree while the other cut deeply into his shoulder, as he heaved the car out of the mud.

  To avoid getting bogged, we kept, as much as we could, to the tops of the ridges and found that the few animals which were about were doing as we were.

  However, a moment came when we were obliged to cross a lugga. Almost at once, the car got completely stuck in muddy water right at the bottom. All day we worked to get it free, but without success.

  Just before it got quite dark, George decided to have a last try at heaving us out. But as he pulled with all his strength on the rope, it broke and he somersaulted backwards into the icy water.

  All we could do now was to spend the night where we were.

  George settled himself in the back of the car and I made myself as comfortable as I could on the front seat, from which I kept an anxious eye on the water which was still rising and was by now about at the level of the seats. Luckily we had a Primus stove with us. George lit it and dried his soaking clothes on a line over it. We spent a most disagreeable night and the irony of it was that, after pleading for so long to spend a night in the open, so as to attract the cubs by keeping our headlights on, now that an accident had obliged us to pass a night in the open, our position at the bottom of the lugga was such that our lights could not be seen at any distance.

  About 11 o’clock the next morning we heard the vibrations of a car engine and hoped this meant that someone was looking for us, but very soon the noise faded away. Soaked to the skin, we went on working in the pouring rain till 3 p.m. when we decided that as after twenty-eight hours we hadn’t managed to move the car one inch we had better start walking back to Seronera. We were exhausted and it would be a long and dangerous walk, but better than spending another night in such awful conditions. We were just starting off when a Land Rover arrived and out got an American who had camped near us at Seronera two days before. He told us that when we didn’t return our boys gave the alarm and two cars set out in search of us, but the heavy rain had obliterated our spoor. It was one of these cars which we had heard during the morning. Now even with a lot of pushing and towing it took us two hours to get clear, before the cars splashed home to Seronera. That evening we celebrated our return with our last bottle of sherry.

  No one could remember such awful rains and it was estimated that 75 per cent of the animals had moved to the higher slopes of the Ngorongor
o crater to escape from the swampy plains. We knew that lions were taking part in the exodus and wondered whether our cubs were among them. The unprecedented floods often imprisoned us for days on end and camp life became very uncomfortable.

  The weather continued to be appalling; there was very little game about and the lions near the lodge had to go considerable distances to find prey; as a result the cubs who were too young to accompany their mothers were often deserted for as long as forty-eight hours. When the lionesses as well as the cubs became emaciated the park warden sometimes shot a buck to prevent the mother from having to abandon her children while hunting. This helped the Seronera prides but I wondered how many new-born cubs far away from the lodge would survive these conditions.

  As I was suffering from toothache and anxious to see a dentist in Nairobi I was glad that a plane could land in such weather and that I was able to get a seat on it.

  I spent five days in Nairobi and then flew back bringing a winch with me; next day when we went to the cub ravine it proved its worth, for we were able to extricate the car from any hole in a short time and could therefore drive along places which we had till then thought too dangerous to risk.

  It was a month since we had left my car in the ravine but as the rains had washed away all spoor we could not tell whether the cubs had been to inspect it. Hoping for better luck we left it where it was.

  We drove ten miles down the valley but saw no game except buffalo. Tsetse were present in swarms and the canvas of the car was black with them. We disproved the theory that they only follow moving objects for even when we stood still we were covered with them and however long we waited they showed no sign of taking off.

  On 6 December two park wardens called to tell us that in connection with a visit Prince Philip was making to the Serengeti on the 11–12 December we must leave Seronera from the 8th to the 13th and suggested that we should spend this time at Banagi, eleven miles away. We asked whether we might not be given special permission to continue to look for the cubs during the days that the Duke was not spending in the park, but the director did not grant it. So we moved to Banagi.

  Until Seronera was built this had been the headquarters of the Serengeti and the house was now used as temporary accommodation for people doing research work in the park. In memory of Michael Grzimek a laboratory has been built near to the house which it is hoped will one day become a centre of scientific research. Both buildings stand on a small hill overlooking the river which one has to cross to reach them. A cement causeway makes the crossing easy in dry weather but when there are floods communication with Seronera is only preserved by a bamboo bridge which hangs from trees that grow on opposite banks.

  All we could do there was to write our mail and listen to the wireless on which we heard an appeal from the small Somali village near Elsa’s camp for help in fighting the floods.

  After our return on 13 December we went to the cub ravine where we saw a lioness with an injured eye; she watched us calmly for a quarter of an hour. She didn’t look like Little Elsa but to make sure we called all the familiar names and waved her pie dish at her. But she only continued to look at us and finally she disappeared into the ravine. It was strange that a wild lioness should have remained so long watching us, but probably she had cubs in the ravine which she was guarding.

  Now I must confess that during my last visit to Nairobi I had been so depressed about Jespah that for the first time in my life I had consulted a fortune-teller, a man of great repute. He told me that on 21 December my stars would change and with them my luck and that I should be unexpectedly successful. (I assumed in finding the cubs.) He added that during the critical period I was to wear something blue, for this was my lucky colour. I was rather ashamed of myself and didn’t tell George what I had done but I did keep a blue handkerchief on me by day and by night, and on the 21st I felt excited. That morning we decided to try to reach the ravine but came upon a vast lake which formed over a salt lick. George tested it by wading in up to his thighs, then he took off the fan belt and drove the car into it. Almost at once, we stuck and the water rushed up to the level of the seats. As fast as I could I took off my clothes, grabbed the cameras and waded out. In my hurry I forgot my blue talisman and when I looked back I saw my handkerchief floating away and with it my belief in fortune-tellers. We spent all the rest of the day working to get the car out, so it was not till next morning that we were able to go to the ravine. We found my car still there; we checked it, and then drove fifteen miles down the valley, but saw only a giraffe and a couple of hyenas. The tsetse were in full force and the going was so rough that the back axle of the car broke. When in the evening, rattling and slushing through the mud, we reached Seronera, we were greeted with cries of ‘Here comes the submarine’, a name which stuck to George’s car. I went to bed early but woke at about 5 a.m. and heard two lions whuffing near the kitchen. I turned quickly so that I could watch the opening of my tent. A few moments later a heavy body brushed against the canvas and pulled out several tent ropes, then a large lion came in and stood within a few feet of my bed; with his great mane he looked like a giant powder-puff. Luckily there was a camp table between us which gave me time to yell. At my shouts the lion jumped back, went out and rejoined his friend. Both trotted past George’s tent, but kept on whuffing for a long time; they were probably intrigued by the light of our torches which we focused in their direction. On the following night the pair came again to visit us but I heard them in time to shout and prevent them from calling on me. They walked between our tents and then disappeared into the night.

  George’s car had to go to the workshop for much-needed repairs, so on Christmas Eve we got our lorry to take us to the cub ravine where my car was still stationed. When we reached it the driver went home in the truck and we drove on in my car.

  It rained without stopping and we saw no sign of the cubs, so, towards evening, turned home very dispirited. When we came to the river we found that it had risen rapidly and was now eight feet deep. This meant that we were cut off from Seronera and should have to spend the night out. It would be very uncomfortable but perhaps it might give us the chance we had waited for for so long, of attracting the cubs with our headlights. We parked in the open as far as we could from the river and left the lights switched on.

  They attracted millions of mosquitoes and other insects, and, as we had no aerosol, we were completely at their mercy. All I could do was to put a cloth we had used for cleaning the windows of the car over my face to protect it.

  Twice we heard lions roar and hoped the cubs might come. But only a hyena appeared. She showed great interest in our rubber tyres and was not at all alarmed by our shouts, but bolted when she got our scent. I lay on the front seat remembering how we had spent the last two Christmases. Christmas Day 1959, when Elsa had suddenly reappeared for the first time after giving birth to her cubs and had swept our Christmas dinner off the table in her joy at seeing us again; and Christmas Eve 1960, when she and the cubs had watched me light the candles with so much interest and Jespah had gone off with my present for George and I had opened the envelope which contained the deportation order.

  Today bore no resemblance to those days and in the morning when I wished George a Happy Christmas, he looked surprised and asked: ‘Is today Christmas Day?’ All the same, I was glad I had spent last night in the car rather than in camp; but George felt that we should try to get back to Seronera at once, so as to prevent a rescue party from setting out to look for us and wasting petrol of which there was very little left.

  The river had fallen during the night and with some trouble we managed to cross it; soon afterwards we plunged into a deep hole and I hit my head so hard that I saw stars, but not the favourable stars which the fortune-teller had promised me.

  When we arrived in camp the boys told us that all through the night lions had been around, and the ample spoor we saw corroborated this story.

  A big Christmas mail was waiting for us; presents had come from all over the w
orld: several of the donors had taken the conditions in which we were living into account, so besides having many nice things to take back to Seronera, our camping from now on would be much more comfortable.

  It was a lovely evening and we saw a strange phenomenon which we had sometimes observed in the semi-desert areas of the NFD. As the rays of the setting sun faded out in the west, in the east there appeared a reflection of the sunset, rather blurred but otherwise an exact replica.

  We continued hunting for the cubs from dawn to dusk, and observed that the wild animals were gradually returning to the valley. Among them were three lionesses with five cubs. Thereafter we met them so often that they became quite accustomed to us and one afternoon when the lionesses went off to stalk a buffalo they left the cubs to stay put so close to the car that we could easily have picked them up.

  For a short time the weather improved, then the rain returned with renewed force. Our only chance of finding the cubs was to look for them on the higher levels. So, as far as the floods permitted, we decided to make a thorough search of the hilly area. To reach it we would drive across the plains, keeping where possible to the ridges.

  The ground was terribly soggy and as disagreeable to the animals as to ourselves; we had proof of this one morning when we saw a lioness and her two cubs high up in a tree obviously trying to keep dry. As we came up to take a photograph, the little ones fell to the ground, then the lioness jumped down but immediately led them up another tree. On this trip we also saw a very amusing sight: three jackals being chased by angry guinea fowl. Whenever the jackals turned the cackling birds flew over the trio or pecked at them. At this the jackals rushed off with their tails between their legs to a safe vantage point from which a little later they made a counter-attack, but the fowl grew so aggressive that finally the jackals bolted.