An entry in the TFS Travel Journal
Some of the things we’ve learned thus far about animals: zebras are not ruminants (don’t chew their cud) and have 24 different types of worms in their stomach to help them digest; every zebra has a different stripe pattern, so a mother about to give birth will separate herself from the herd and return several hours after the calf is born, so it has time to learn the pattern of its mother and recognize her amongst the many; according to local folklore, the rivers were given to the crocodile and the fish, but the hippo wanted to live there, too (and in fact does spend most of its days there since its skin is very sensative to the sun), so it was allowed to, but only if it didn’t eat any of the fish. Now, (as we saw) when hippos defacate, they swish their tails back and forth in such a way that the dung is spread out. We assumed that this was to mark its territory, but the legend is that it does this to show the other animals that there are no fish bones. Lions feed about every 5-7 days, if they can. Serengeti means “endless plain” in Masai. Zebras and wildebeast migrate together because: the zebras have teeth enabling them to eat the coarser top part of the grasses, leaving the shorter, softer grass for the wildebeast and zebras have better eyesight while wildebeast have better smell, to warn of predators. Elephants don’t die of old age, but of starvation since their teeth eventually fall out and they can no longer eat, though they can live to 80.
We slept great in our sultan’s bed, despite the fact that it had rained all night. Therefore, our flight was canceled (airstrip too wet) and we were in for another long day of driving. We packed up, said our goodbyes to Titus and Peter, and departed the she-world with Wilson driving us in a Mashado Land Rover. The first 2 hours were quite unpleasant, over wet, bumpy, rattling roads and through a few deep streams (though with plenty of the usual game to view), then the next hour was really unpleasant as we drove through the muddy grassland of the Serengeti, spinning out a few times (we’ll never curse American roads again!) We finally got to the Ndutu lodge where we transferred to Julius’ Rover. The next 30 minutes were on the same slippery muddy grassland, but then we emerged into the glory of the famed Serengeti Plains and the sky miraculously cleared. We promptly unzipped the top so Milton could resume his favorite position of standing - hands firmly on the roll bar - and surveying the expanse.
For the next two hours we glided across the vast plains (which certainly did look endless in every direction), with migrating zebras, gazelles, wildebeest all around us as far as we could see. (we also saw no other vehicles, which was nice) Often, we were right in the middle of these vast herds, and as we cruised by them staring, they would all be staring back at us. As in a picturebook, we’d pass the occasional lone acacia tree in the vast expanse.
Julius continued the pattern of amazingly observant drivers, as he stopped, picked up the binoculars and turned the rover in the direction of some distant, non-descript (to our eyes) figures. They were four young (around 3 years old, as their manes were just starting to grow) male lions lounging in the tall grass. We drove up to about 30 feet away and took some pictures, then they got bored of our talking to them and they walked away.
As we drove on, Julius then spotted a number of vultures in the distance. We drove to that spot, but didn’t see anything interesting, so he drove around a nearby patch of high shrubs, since cats will drag their kills to a shaded area to eat. Sure enough, we saw the remains of a wildebeast (most of its head, some bones and some skin), which the vultures returned to after we drove away. We saw a similar scene shortly thereafter, as a hyena was staggering away from a fresh gazelle carcass looking so stuffed that he was having trouble walking, and the vultures were rapidly descending to dine and fight among themselves.
{We’ve certainly gotten to see more, and more interesting, birds than we’d been expecting. It still amazes us when we are driving along through the bush and birds the size of a small football, with 4-foot wingspans, erupt out of the grass and fly away, or run along the road ahead of us for a while before taking off back into the brush. We’ve also seen birds whose tail feathers are much longer and wider than their bodies, crowned cranes (with large “crowns”, or tufts, atop their small heads), storks (who’ve flown down from Europe), the regal secretary bird, many flamingos, and the omnipresent ostriches who never cease to impress us with their great size. Although they can’t fly, their thickly feathered wings are enormous, and they wave them about constantly, presumably to ward off the myriad flying insects.}
As we continued through the warm sun and endless expanse of the plains, Milton spotted something a bit too lightly-colored in some green brush. Julius stopped and peered through the binoculars before turning to us, his face brightened, and saying “it’s the cheetah!” with the excitement of a schoolchild. It was nice to see that the locals aren’t yet jaded and can still share our sense of wonder. We steered over, and there he was: a lithe, full grown spotted cat who had evidently just recently finished a meal. We circled him a few times, as he rolled back and forth to watch us and to scratch his back, making sure to photograph him from all angles as Wendy conducted a one-sided dialogue with him to keep him posing for the camera. We decided to leave him to his napping and headed finally into camp.
This camp is a M*A*S*H-like compound like Swala, and we’re back in a nice tent. We relaxed in the tent and out on the veranda until we joined the full group for cocktails and dinner. Dinner was sufficient, accompanied by the usual quota of inane conversation that results from these sorts of gatherings. As we’d opted (been coerced, really) for the 7am game drive - with a 6:30 wake up - we skipped the after-dinner coffee and were escorted back to our tent (by a guard with a large bow and arrows) for another sounds-of-nature evening.