by Steve White
Males and females exhibit a certain amount of sexual dimorphism; the male is somewhat larger and while largely black in colour, the face, limbs and tail are boldly marked. The smaller females are coloured in a ‘dazzle’ style of black, brown and white that breaks up their outlines in dense forest.
The females travel in small herds, usually attended by one male during the breeding season; after mating with all the sexually mature females, he joins in the colonial defence of the nest site, where all the females lay. The young are precocial but stay in the nest, where they are fed by all the adults in the herd, as part of an extended crèche.
After two to three weeks, the crèche is moved to swampland or marshes, where the young are relatively safe from Theropod predators, and bigger crocodilians. They will stay in this environment once the adults abandon them, usually moving on to the hammocks, cypress flats and fern meadows during the wet season to fatten up; here they are most vulnerable to attack by large Theropods.
The second Iguanodontid is a sailed type analogous to Ouranosaurus. This species is smaller than the Lurdusaur, only around 25ft in length, and more gracile, with longer limbs and neck, and a body plan not dissimilar to later Hadrosaurs (see the next chapter), a similarity borne out by the animal’s more pronounced ‘duckbill’. It also has a much-reduced thumb spike and therefore it may not be an Iguanodont at all but a basal Hadrosaur.
The one noticeable difference between this species and other Iguanodonts (and Hadrosaurs) is its sail; this is more pronounced than in the earlier species, with the neural spines longer over the shoulders, taking on an even stronger resemblance to a bison’s hump than in Ouranosaurus; the impression is reinforced by the low-browsing/grazing behaviour of the animal. The males are particularly impressive due to their bright colouration; sexual selection has also resulted in the males being somewhat larger than the females.
Unlike the Lurdusaur, the sailed type is less aquatic and frequents the flatwoods and meadows, and larger hammocks. They very rarely travel into more aqueous territory, even during the dry season, when the meadows and the forests of the interior are far drier. This, however, is when the sail shows its primary function (the display purpose seems to have been an evolutionary by-product); the long wet seasons allow the Ouranosaurid to build up fat in the sail, grazing heavily on the fern and palmetto meadows. This fat sees them through the leaner times of the dry season.
The sailed Iguanodonts form herds of 10–30 individuals and nest colonially; they form the young into crèches that stay with the adults until they are old enough to independently form herds of their own. Being largely terrestrial, they are very much favoured prey of large Theropods.
PTEROSAURS
The slough, mangrove flats and the coastal zone of the Bahariya make it difficult (and dangerous) for small dinosaurs to live in safety. The many watercourses that need to be crossed make small raptors and Ornithopods very vulnerable to attack by a host of aquatic and semi-aquatic predators.
Accordingly, some of the ecological niches of the Bahariya have been taken over by pterosaurs, who can move about such a wide-open and watery environment with relative ease, flying between the hundreds of islands in search of food.
Filling the role of smaller predator is a species of Thalassodromeus, easily recognizable by its rugged sail-like head crest. Its toothless bill is long and powerful, while its eyes face forward, providing excellent depth of vision. Its neck is short, thick and flexible while, on the ground, the forelimbs created by the folded wings and the legs are roughly equivalent in length. All these features combine to make a flier which is almost as comfortable on the ground, where it is also an effective hunter. Strategically not dissimilar to a modern stork or a small raptorial dinosaur, Thalassodromeus picks its way across fern meadows, snapping up small animals, and can often be seen trailing large dinosaurs, where it will use its long bill to grab anything stirred up by the passing of the larger animals. It is also quite happy to stalk across flatlands and exposed tidal flats in search of invertebrates, lungfish and carrion. This robust and aggressive pterosaur will take on eggs, hatchlings and even juvenile dinosaurs, given the opportunity. Sexually dimorphic, the crests of the larger males are far larger and more colourful than the smaller females. Pairs nest on small mangrove islands or hammocks during the wet season, both providing for the two to three chicks (although rarely more than one survives).
The largest of the Bahariya pterosaurs is Alanqa, a member of the Azhdarchid family. With a wingspan of around 20ft, it stands about 6ft tall on the ground. Its beak is long and it is like most Azhdarchids in general appearance but for the raised ‘bumps’ approximately half way down the beak, on both sides of the upper and lower jaw. Alanqa has a long, stiff neck and although comfortable on the ground, it is not built to handle prey quite as kinetic as that hunted by Thalassodromeus. Instead, the long neck and bill, and the beak ‘bumps’ have evolved to harvest shellfish, especially those from the rich oyster beds of the Bahariya watershed when they are exposed at low tide. It will take other small, slow creatures that cross its path and has been known to scavenge.
Alanqa travels in small flocks and these towering, stately figures are a common sight along the Bahariya coastline as they travel across the flats in search of food. They are quite aggressive to intruders and it’s not wise to approach them on foot as they are surprisingly fast runners, despite their apparently ungainly appearance. Alanqa also nest colonially, laying two to three eggs in simple, scraped out nests at the start of the wet season.
The Azdarchid pterosaur, Alanqa, stalks across a mudflat between the bones of dead pliosaur.
Another Bahariyan pterosaur is Siroccopteryx, a member of the Ornithocheirids. Distinguishing features include long spiky teeth in the tip of the jaws; the end of both jaws also sports raised semi-circular keels. The eyes are forward facing and the neck is long and flexible, while its wings are narrow and some 15ft in length. Siroccopteryx is ungainly on the ground, with only small hind legs, but is extremely graceful in the air, its body plan ideal for a long-distance soarer. Its diet is largely fish; it is a dip feeder, sailing low over the sea’s surface and using its toothed beak to snap up prey; the beak keels provide a degree of stability (although their primary role is species recognition and sexual display), while the neck is heavily muscled to withstand the drag created when the beak punches into the water.
Not surprising for an ocean-going pterosaur, it is white in colour except for the head markings, much more accentuated in the males. They are rarely seen along the coast throughout much of the year, but come to the Bahariya coastline at the start of the wet season to mate and nest in large, noisy colonies while also taking advantage of the glut of fish that enter coastal waters to breed and use the mangrove shallows as nurseries. The nesting sites are usually on bigger mangrove islands or sand spits, as isolated as possible and therefore much safer. Thalassodromids are, however, a regular menace, pirating eggs and chicks despite the furious defence of the parents. Another threat are young Spinosaurs who will brave open water to plunder the colonies. It’s wise to bear in mind that approaching one of these colonies can be a hazardous undertaking as a parent Siroccopteryx will dive-bomb and mob anyone foolish enough to come too close.
CROCODILIANS AND OTHER AQUATIC CREATURES
The greatest hazard to the Bahariya hunter is that of crocodilians. There are a number of types, some of which grow to incredible sizes.
An unusual croc is the freshwater Aegisuchus, easily recognizable by its strange flattened head and the circular lump or ‘boss’ behind the eyes, which are close together. Despite its unconventionally shaped head, Aegisuchus is still an effective ambush predator. It frequents the narrow creeks and bayous of the interior, preying on dinosaurs and large fish; its favoured stratagem is to stay on the creek bed where its flattened shape makes it hard to spot; its upward pointing eyes will then watch for any fish big enough to take on dinosaurs coming down to drink or make a crossing. This croc is one that grows to giant leng
ths; usually those spotted have been around 20–30ft in length but others have been seen that measured over 50ft. Some reports indicate even larger individuals.
Another giant is the as yet undescribed Sarcosuchid, apparently a descendant of the famous Sarcosuchus of the earlier Cretaceous. This species can grow up to 40 or more feet in length, and like its descendant, appears to be a generalist feeder. This is despite its seemingly narrow jaws that would really befit a piscivore; however, the top of the snout swells to accommodate very large teeth. Unlike types belonging to later families of crocodilians, these Sarcosuchids cannot perform the infamous ‘death roll’ used to dismember carcasses. Instead, the animal uses a horizontal thrashing to rip its meal into eatable chunks. This species stays out in larger watercourses and will travel out into brackish environments; it is often seen in the croc wallows at the centre of larger hammocks, cypress domes and mangrove islands.
Aegyptosuchus is another large species, growing up to 30ft. However it is, by and large, a piscivore, its appearance not very different to the modern gharial, although it’s a little more robust and the jaws are not quite as narrow, proportionally. One of the most widely distributed of the Bahariya crocs, it is found anywhere that supports a population of fish. In the wet season, it travels as far out as coastal water, hunting in the mangroves and on the shoals of baitfish that come inshore to feed on the detritus washed out by storm surges. It will also take the sharks and even Polycotylids that follow the shoals in. Despite its size, it is perhaps the least dangerous of Bahariya crocs, but bigger individuals are known to supplement their diet with small dinosaurs and pterosaurs.
Libycosuchus is a dog-sized terrestrial croc, although this could be construed as something of a misnomer as it is a very effective swimmer. This Labrador-sized hunter and scavenger is very much an opportunist and seems to have replaced small dinosaurs in this role within the Bahariya ecosystem. It has broad tastes in food, eating anything from eggs, young dinosaurs and lungfish to crabs, shellfish and turtles. It will scavenge from Theropod kills and, in the wet season, has even been seen swimming out to pterosaur colonies to steal eggs and chicks, its long tail making for an effective sculling device. Libycosuchus nests in burrows dug into river banks or between the thick roots of cypress and mangroves.
Stomatosuchus is one of the more enigmatic of the Bahariya’s crocs. Growing up to 30ft, it is unusual in that, unlike virtually every known crocodilian, it is a filter feeder, not unlike a baleen whale. Its skull is flattened along the lines of Aegisuchus but is lined with dozens of very small teeth. The lower jaw, however, has no teeth at all and the usual crocodilian throat pouch has expanded to resemble that of a baleen whale and is even pleated in a similar manner. Stomatosuchus is a very rare visitor to the Bahariya, spending much of its time in open water; however, it does come into the tidal waters during the wet season to feed on the baitfish that come inshore during this time.
Also rarely seen are Polycotylids. These marine reptiles have long dolphin-like jaws, four flippers, barrel-shaped bodies and a short tail. They are very streamlined and move with grace and speed through the water; they are also piscivores, hunting small fish. There is a freshwater species that plies the more open watercourses and rivers, but in the wet season, marine species arrive along the Bahariya coastline to give birth to live young amongst the nurseries provided by mangrove roots. These nurseries provide not only cover for the newborn but also a ready food source of small and newborn fish; this same food source is used by female Polycotylids to replenish their strength after the trauma of giving birth.
There are a number of fish that also grow to very large sizes in the water of the Bahariya. These include the voracious gar, Atractosteus, which can grow up to 10ft; of similar size is the lungfish, Ceratodus, of the same genus as the modern Queensland lungfish but much larger. The largest fish is Paranogmius, a tuna-like ocean-going fish that can grow up to 12ft. These are rarely seen in Bahariya waters, but occasionally one will stray into coastal waters during the wet season, seemingly in pursuit of baitfish or other prey. There are also hybodontid sharks that favour fresh and brackish water conditions, where they feed on shellfish and invertebrates such as crabs and crayfish. These can reach 7ft long. Another real giant is the bichir, Bawitius; growing up to 10ft long, it lives in the freshwater swamps and creeks of the interior, feeding on fish, invertebrates and juvenile crocs and dinosaurs.
Conclusion
An amazing environment for the hunter looking for something a little out of the ordinary, the Bahariya has a great deal to offer, including the chance to bag one of the most iconic movie dinosaurs, as well as a great opportunity to do some serious sports fishing!
THE BAYOU
(Blog posting by Yishan Lo. Used with permission.)
They were one week into their trip and without a kill yet, Yishan Lo and her shooter, Cheung Wing Law, when a drone spotted a number of bodies out amongst the mangrove islands at the very edge of the coast. A small herd of Paralititan had been foraging far out amongst the mangroves and cypress domes when a tropical storm had caught them unawares. The resulting surge had flash-flooded the coast, drowning the massive Sauropods. The presence of so much carrion offered an opportunity of staking out the bodies, which were almost certain to attract large predators. The following morning, the hunting team set off…
Mist shifted the spectrum of the morning sun to a pale orange. Swarms of biting insects danced, midges or gnats or maybe mosquitos. Cheung gunned the engine but it made little noise. Just sped us through the clouds unbitten. The trip would be long, hours by our estimate. The creek curled, switched back on itself. Oxbows and sidewinder tracks added miles to the journey as they snaked around hammocks and domes of dense forest.
The insects would have plenty more opportunities to come.
Cheung took it slow, though. The creek sides were thick with cattails and bulrushes shedding clumps of pollen. Towering horsetails so tall they looked more like bamboo. He kept the skimmer to the centre of the creek but, still, great armoured backs occasionally broke the water, throwing shockwaves that made the mats of floating, spongy ferns rise and fall in the ripples.
Fish.
Huge, dragon-scaled lungfish with pouting supermodel lips that gulped air. Bichirs, reedfish the size of the skimmer and bigger, rose alongside us and I would raise the shotgun, but a small beady eye would look us over as we sat crouched in our ghillie suits, for all the Cenomanian world like piles of dead reeds. Then, the eye would sink into the murk, leaving us untroubled.
Cheung pointed shoreward.
The riverine understorey parted and on an oxbox mudflat basked Aegisuchus. Jaws agape, eyes closed, lined up as symmetrically as the work of a Cretaceous logger.
Again we passed untroubled but the water seemed somehow darker. Those crocs had been longer than our boat. By a pretty major factor. But on we puttered. We passed beneath tunnels of love, a rat king’s tail of roots and branches knotted into sprawling arches hung with moss. Walls of old growth cypress and pond apples, thick with gourds and ferns. Wreathes of white and pink flowers.
We floated on carpets of green that hid the dark creek water, but beneath the arches, the air was stultifying. Even with air con, we sweltered in the ghillie suits and insect hoods, and there was an almost overwhelming urge to strip them off. There was nothing moving but the Tinkerbell fluttering of insects in the shafts of yellow sun.
Conscious of the world around us, we spoke rarely and only in soft whispers. We started when the FOB called in with a comms check, worried the drones could barely see us in the bayous. I watched the banks and the water closely. Cheung was fixed on navigational hazards. Tangles and deadfalls. The endless cypress knees. A giant gar nuzzling the skimmer.
And then, sometimes, the forest would thin and there would be air and light. And there we would be, the creek carrying us through conifer-dotted flatwoods and wetlands of palm-leaved palmettos and uprushes of ferns. The occasional cypress dome of flushes of trees, planes and huge Cladophle
bis ferns and the strange kauri trees. Plane trees hung heavy with drupes, the fleshy fruit surrounded by endocarps tough as PVC.
We saw little in the way of big animals beyond fish. That grated on my nerves. The hammocks, the meadows, both were fine Carcharodontosaur hunting grounds and while we hardly looked appetizing, it nonetheless made us nervous.
The banks of plants crowded in. Loomed over us, casting long shadows. Out of curiosity, I removed my rebreather. The smell was rich, dense. Methane. Silage. Loam. A memory of an animal house during a trip to the zoo.
And then came the crackle and snap of splitting timber.
Something big this way came.
Cheung slid the skiff to a halt. There was a bend in the creek where the sounds were coming from. Crashing. The mooing and guttural, vibrato lowing of animals.
We switched seats, making the skiff rock. Cheung pulled his rifle and checked the chamber. The metal clack of the cycle was strangely human and out of place.
I racked the shotgun. Laid it in my lap and then edged us forward while Cheung lay in the bow. He waved us forward. I slowly twisted the throttle and the carpet of green parted before us.