September 2010 : Sabi Sand Reserve, South Africa

The first of September marked the arrival of spring and with it came the first leaves on the Marula trees and a mass of white flowers on the Knobthorn acacias, one of the first trees to flower. Spring marks an exciting time in the Sabi Sands as discussed by Brett in his article later on. As we move closer to arrival of the rains, the bushveld seems to get drier and drier on a daily basis. There were a couple of days this month where there was a light drizzle. It wasn’t substantial enough to stimulate new growth, but was just enough to provide some respite and allow the dust to settle for a couple of days.

September has brought with it some wonderful surprises in the form of a few unusual sightings. These include JD’s witnessing a pair of mating rhinos as well as the ostrich which seems to have made itself at home north of the Sand River. I was also fortunate enough to witness a leopard chase some nyala and another kill a grey duiker on consecutive mornings as detailed in the article ‘Leopard kill’ below. After reporting in August that there were 4 surviving wild dog pups running with the pack, it saddened me to notice towards the end of September that there were only 3 pups accompanying the adults. Although nothing has been reported, I can only assume that another of the pups has succumbed to a higher predator.

The days are gradually lengthening, accompanied by a general increase in the early morning and late evening ambient temperatures, a sure sign that summer is on the way and that the rains are around the corner.

LEOPARD KILL

My chief reason for choosing to work in the Sabi Sand game reserve, as opposed to any other reserve, was the reputation it has for spectacular leopard viewing. These solitary cats fascinate me due largely to their adaptability and the secretive manner in which they go about their daily lives. Before coming to the Sabi Sands, I had high expectations of gaining insight into the daily lives of these amazing creatures that I would battle to get elsewhere. So far I haven’t been disappointed and have managed to tick off many of the events and interactions that I had on my ‘leopard to-do list’.

One such event, however, that has managed to evade me, is to witness a leopard kill. At the time of compiling my to-do list, I realised that this was a tall order, but put it on my list nevertheless. Being solitary animals, leopards rely on stealth when hunting and are effectively ambush predators, aiming to get as close as possible to their potential prey before pouncing. Anyone who has spent any time tracking or watching leopards will testify as to how difficult it is to see a leopard in the dense vegetation that dominates the Sabi Sands when the animal is indifferent as to whether it is seen or not. Now, consider a leopard that is trying its utmost to get as close as possible to a prey item without being detected. In my mind, this is what made the likelihood of ever witnessing a leopard kill so remote. Add to this the fact that as with the other ‘big cats’, in each stalk that a leopard initiates, it only has about a 20% chance of making a successful kill and your probability decreases even further.

I thought that if I were ever to witness a leopard kill, it would involve locating an animal, following it once it decided to hunt and hopefully watch it successfully take down its intended target. This sequence of events almost manifested itself on a September morning when Themba and I found some fresh leopard tracks on a sandy section alongside the sand river, known to us as ‘the beach’ for obvious reasons. We climbed out of the vehicle to ascertain the direction of the tracks and then proceeded to drive along the road in the direction of the tracks. We hadn’t moved more than 20 metres from our original position, having just driven around a large red spike thorn, when we located the Xindzele male nonchalantly cleaning himself. No sooner had we turned off the vehicle, having manoeuvred into a better position, did he notice a group of 3 nyala bulls browsing on the riparian bush alongside the Sand River,
oblivious to his presence. He quickly transformed into stealth mode and, body close to the ground and ears flat against his head, began to stalk the nyala bulls. Although a notoriously bad hunter, as his mother still provides him with a steady supply of kills, there was an air of excitement and anticipation as we watched him move in closer to the nyala bulls. After about 10 minutes he had covered in the region of 50 metres and was now less than 2 metres from one of the bulls.

Just as he was about to make his move he was spotted. Amidst the barking alarm calls of the nyala, the bulls made a run for it, with the leopard in pursuit. With the element of surprise having been lost, the Xindzele male gave up after a couple of strides, deciding to rather preserve valuable energy than engage in a fruitless chase. What an amazing interaction this was to witness and although there was no success, I could safely say that this was the closest I had come to witnessing a leopard kill, an experience that would likely suffice and allow me to tick that box.

The very next morning, we left Castleton camp and made our way north towards the Sand River. It was shortly after sunrise and the surrounds were covered in a soft light, perfect for photography. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a crested barbet land on a dead branch of a tree pushed over by elephants. The colourful bird was perfectly illuminated in the morning light. As I stopped and reversed to take in this beautiful image, there was an air of excitement in the vehicle after the previous morning’s events. I quickly explained that I had only noticed the bird landing in a photo friendly setting and started discussing the crested barbet. One of the guests then noticed a small antelope, a grey duiker, browsing on the other side of the road.

This was a relatively uncommon sighting as the duiker, true to their name which, translated from Afrikaans, means diver, normally dive for cover upon being noticed. Having taken in the scene, we quickly glanced back at the barbet and were about to move on.

Just then there was a blood curdling scream, a sound completely foreign to me. It came from the direction of the duiker and while I was still trying to process what was happening, Themba was gesturing to me to drive into the bush in the direction of the sound. Everything happened so quickly, but I managed to work out that while we were watching the duiker browse on the side of the road, there was a leopard patiently waiting in a gulley on the other side of the duiker. As the duiker stepped back into the gulley to move towards another shrub, the leopard pounced on it, grabbing it by the throat. This was validated a couple of seconds later when we discovered the leopard, with a vice like grip on the duiker’s throat.

We identified the leopard as the ‘nervous female’, a small female leopard which, as her ‘name’ suggests, is quite nervous, especially around vehicles. She occupies a large territory in the central part of our property and is seldom seen but for the white tip of her tail as she usually disappears at the first sign of a vehicle. True to her nature, as soon as she noticed the vehicle, the leopard began to drag the still kicking duiker towards a dry river bed and into thicker bush. Keeping my distance, I drove in after her, hoping that she would relax, but after about 5 minutes of continuous walking, she moved into an area that was no longer navigable. For fear of her abandoning her hard earned meal, I decided to move out of the area and give her the space she was looking for.

This time the mood in the vehicle was completely different. Everyone was taken completely by surprise and there was a stunned silence. Contrary to the previous morning’s adventure, during which the excitement built up as we followed the leopard stalking its prey, we had now been exposed to the other side. This time we had experienced the attack from the perspective of the prey, having been completely oblivious to the presence of the female leopard until the pounce. This, I believe, is a far better reflection of the stealthy and secretive life led by the leopard and just goes to show how easily the animal can go undetected if it so wishes.

Had we not stopped for the crested barbet, or glanced across at the grey duiker, we would have left the scene without having any idea that just metres away from us lay a leopard lurking in the undergrowth. As luck would have it, we lingered just long enough to enter the realm of a privileged few who have experienced a leopard successfully making a kill. As we moved off, I couldn’t help but wonder just how many leopards we drive past on a daily basis without even knowing of their existence. Even with the help of expert trackers, these animals can easily elude us, but I suppose that is what makes a leopard sighting such a special event and encourages all of us to come back and continue searching for these elusive animals.

SPRING HAS ARRIVED

The end of winter, marked by the arrival of spring, is certainly my favorite time of the year in the Lowveld and I always look forward to this period in the Sabi Sand Game Reserve. The thinning vegetation allows for good game viewing and this year has proved no exception. There are bright, sunny days and cloudless nights accompanied by pleasant temperatures. Dusty red sunsets, enhanced by the smoke from distant bush fires are followed by crystal clear, starry night skies.

The Knobthorn acacias are the first to flower, after which it seems that each new day is accompanied by the blooming of a different tree. Amidst this abundance of flowering trees, other deciduous species, yet to regain their leaves, provide perfect silhouettes for sunset photographs.

With the dry, nutrient deficient, grass and leaves being hard to come by, herbivores tend to travel further in order to forage and congregate around permanent water sources. This often results in large herds of elephants moving in and around the Sand River to fulfill their demanding water requirements and feed on the nutrient rich Phragmites mauritianus, a reed that is abundant in the river. It is a delight to watch them moving along the river throughout the day from the comfort of the decks of the rooms, or whilst enjoying an al fresco lunch.

The end of winter is also accompanied by the flowering of the aloes. These succulents, used throughout the world for their medicinal properties, produce beautiful flowers which are full of nectar and a rare delicacy at this tough time of the year. These plants are most common in rocky soils, often associated with mountainous habitats in dry climates. They can be found along the cliffs of the Sand River and also around the lodges, as well as in our staff village. It is a veritable buffet for birds and insects alike, who feed on the delicious nectar and at the same time, pollinate the aloe by transferring pollen from one individual plant to another. The most attractive of these nectar feeders are the sunbirds, including the collared, white-bellied and scarlet chested sunbirds.

It’s still a while before the rains arrive but nevertheless it’s an exciting time to be on safari, as the frogs begin to call and new life begins to emerge. The arrival of the first migrant birds always gets us excited and already the Wahlberg’s eagles have been seen mating just after their arrival back from equatorial Africa. Each day one awakens to the call of a new migrant bird species as they arrive back in Southern Africa after a long flight and ready themselves for the breeding season. Bring it on!

Brett Horley, Field guide, Singita Sabi Sand

MATING WHITE RHINOS

Late one afternoon we carved our way through the dense thickets that dominate much of Singita’s property. Our objective was to head to the more open southern parts of the property in search of a white rhino, one of Africa’s most breathtaking yet threatened large herbivores. As the thickets gave way to open grassland, eyes began to scan the vast area stretched out before us. It wasn’t long before we honed in on a large grey figure moving slowly away from us on the opposite side of the valley. With much excitement, we headed towards the rock-like feature. As we approached, the figures of five colossal beasts emerged from the haze ahead of us, two of which were behaving quite strangely.

An enormous rhino bull was resting his head on the rump of one of the cows. Before I could begin to give an explanation of this unusual behaviour we were witnessing, the giant pachyderm launched himself onto the back of the receptive female. It was amazing to see how easily the cow managed to cope with a 2500kg bull leveraging precariously on her back. The pair remained in this position for over twenty minutes as the bull ensured tht his genes would prevail. Having secured the survival of his genetic lineage he dismounted.

There was silence as we all took in the scene before us. A white rhino cow has a gestation period of 16 months, followed by a period of 3-4 years during which she does not come into oestrus. Only once her calf has become independent will she again go into oestrus and become the focus of attention of a territorial bull. What we had just witnessed was therefore a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity as each cow will likely only mate once every 5-6 years.

John-Daniel Dunn, Field guide, Singita Sabi Sand

RARE SIGHTING OF AN OSTRICH

Whilst we have an abundance of bird life on the Singita property, one species which seems to elude us in this particular section of the Sabi Sands is the ostrich. The ostrich is the largest and heaviest living bird at 2 metres in length and weighing in at about 70 kilograms. This great size, however, has resulted in it being completely flightless. These birds are farmed throughout Southern Africa mainly for their meat which, being extremely lean, is seen as a healthy alternative to red meat. The original wild population is small and confined mainly to Namibia, Botswana, the Northern Cape and the Greater Kruger National Park.

Although the Singita property falls within the recognised distribution of these birds within South Africa, the last recorded sighting of an ostrich was about 3 years ago, in 2007. The likely reason for this is twofold. Firstly, the preferred habitat of the ostrich is open savanna, where it is often associated with plains game such as zebra and wildebeest. In the Sabi Sand, however, most of the areas are covered by dense vegetation and there are very few open areas, resulting in a low population of these birds. This can be contrasted with the Singita concession in the Kruger National Park, which has a lot more open areas and consequently, a much higher ostrich population. Secondly, the high population of predators within the Sabi Sand is also likely to be a limiting factor, as the ostrich is known to be preyed upon by lion, leopard, cheetah, wild dog and hyaena.

With this in mind, you can imagine my surprise when, as we were driving through an open area north of the Sand River, one of my guests suddenly shouted ‘ostrich!’. I was quick to explain the above to her and politely asked if she hadn’t mistakenly seen a bush in the shape of an ostrich, after all it was well over 38˚C in the midday sun and even I was starting to hallucinate. As we reversed, she pointed into the distance and out of a mirage appeared the dull brown figure of a single female ostrich, told by her dullish brown to grey plumage, as opposed to a male which is predominantly black, with white wings and tail. With a sense of disbelief, I apologised and reached for my camera to capture this moment, as I would surely not be believed when I recited the story back at the lodge. Since then, the female ostrich seems to have made this area her home and is often seen moving around Ingrid’s clearing and the surrounds as she forages for food. 
‘The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams’ Eleanor Roosevelt