While weaving our way to Dead Tree Island (which we couldn’t get to ’cause the bridge was down) we came across a film crew that said they’d seen lions near the airstrip. We found them lazing in the shade after, probably, a busy night of slaughter. Initially there were three healthy lionesses and a playful cub which they tolerated and hugged until it irritated them. They growled and cuffed it into submission and it retreated under a bush to sulk.
Lion’s don’t do much, so after about half an hour of us watching them watch us we went back to camp for brunch. After a snooze in the poleaxed stillness of the midday heat we returned to see how the lions were doing. They were doing nothing, apart from the cub who was still hassling for a game. I bet that night it would be a different story with some bone crunching.
We did some crunching ourselves – supper was sadza (maize pap), salad and goat.
After supper our hyena was back. I headed its way in the dark, camera in hand, each time I flashed it retreated. I was having trouble focussing in the dark so flashed quite often. Smart hyena figured the flashes were harmless and strolled in my direction, stopping a few metres away and staring at me with intelligent yellow eyes. It was about waist high and had a jaw that ate things like me. It won the staring contest and I backed off and zipped myself in my tent
Another hyena arrived and within minutes there was fearsome snarling. The tent fabric felt awfully thin. That night they stole our rusks and ate my museli.
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