The Elephant Whisperer: My Life With the Herd in the African Wild (13 page)

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Authors: Lawrence Anthony,Graham Spence

BOOK: The Elephant Whisperer: My Life With the Herd in the African Wild
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No doubt these two had returned from their walkabout at Thula Thula, hard and lean, to challenge him for the spoils.
The southern white rhino is very big. Surprisingly big – especially if you are on foot and one steps out of the bush in front of you. It’s the second-largest land mammal on earth and can easily weigh three tons. Prized by poachers for its horn, of which the one just in front of me had a particularly fine pair.
We had just had three delivered to the reserve and this female, still doped from the sedative, had groggily wandered away from the other two. This posed a big problem. The elephants were close by and unknowingly she was ambling directly towards them. We had to cut her off – and trying to dissuade a mountain of muscle and horn still hungover from travel tranquillizers from going in her chosen direction was not something I relished.
‘David,’ I called into the radio. ‘I’ve found her. Can you bring the Landy across? We’re at the south end of the airstrip.’
‘Roger, boss,’ came the instant reply. ‘Thula Thula international airport it is!’
I watched this beautiful creature not fifteen yards away walking unsteadily on short dumpy legs which could usually propel her into an unbelievably fast charge in no time. Clad in a prehistoric suit of armour impervious to almost anything except a bullet, she tottered along, completely unaware of my presence. A magnificent 40-inch horn like a sabre at
the tip of her elongated head added gravitas to an already imposing form. This was the stuff poachers dream about.
Max stood by me transfixed by the beast. Bush-hardened as he was, he was not used to rhino this close and apart from his twitching nose taking in the scent, he didn’t move.
I kept a wary eye on the herd browsing upwind when I heard a soft sound behind me and turned to see Mnumzane coming up the airstrip downwind, testing the air.
Damn it! Of all the bad luck … we were too late; he must have caught either my or the rhino’s scent and started to slowly walk in our direction.
‘David,’ I whispered into the radio, ‘Mnumzane’s right here.’
‘So am I, boss,’ he replied as the Landy bounced out of the bush onto the airstrip. Giving Mnumzane a wide birth, he pulled up next to me and jumped out leaving the motor idling.
‘Somehow we have to keep Mnumzane and the herd away from her,’ I said pointing to the dazed rhino. ‘They’re too close. I really don’t like this at all.’
‘I brought the horse feed you wanted. That should delay him for a while,’ he replied.
‘Yeah, but the smell might also bring the other elephants over. We’re going to have to shield the rhino with the Land Rover, put ourselves between her and any elephant that gets too inquisitive. But first let’s try and get Mnumzane out of the way.’
David jumped into the back of Landy and sliced the first of the large sacks of horse pellets with his Leatherman knife. He placed the open bag at the tailgate and crouched down next to it. ‘I hope they like this stuff.’
‘We’ll soon find out,’ I said, getting behind the wheel and driving slowly towards Mnumzane.
David was making light of it, but this was a deadly serious business. Elephants will usually only bother rhinos if
they don’t get out of their way – which rhinos invariably do. However, our latest addition was still shaking off the effects of sedatives injected to pacify her during the journey to Thula Thula, and thus would not be able to take in her surroundings. If she stumbled into Mnumzane or the herd … well, anything could happen.
What we planned to do was divert Mnumzane’s attention from the groggy creature by giving him a taste of the protein-rich pellets and then enticing him as far away as possible by laying a food trail. It was dangerous work as David would be completely exposed on the open back of the pickup as he poured the feed out to excited elephants following just yards behind. Mnumzane was only a teenager, but he still weighed about three and a half tons and we had to be very careful.
I cut across in front of the youngster then reversed back to where he stood confused and a little petulant about the noisy intrusion into his space. David chucked out some feed and I drove off a short distance. To my dismay, he ignored the offering and resumed his meander up the airstrip towards the rhino.
‘Reverse again!’ shouted David, holding the bag ready to pour. ‘But this time get much closer.’
‘OK … but be bloody careful.’
I gingerly edged the vehicle backwards … ‘Closer, closer!’ David called, keeping a wary watch on the young bull.
Suddenly, not liking what was going on, Mnumzane lifted his head aggressively and turned sharply towards us, ears spread wide.
‘Just a little bit more …’ said David ignoring the elephant’s blatant warning, and just as I thought we were too close he quickly tipped the bag and I slammed the vehicle into first, easing off with David laying a long trail of feed away from the rhino.
Mnumzane watched us go; relaxing his flared ears and
unfurling his trunk to smell the pile of pellets on the ground. He snuffled some into his mouth and a few seconds later he was piling in like a glutton. The ploy had worked.
‘That will keep him busy and we’ve plenty more chow if the others come across,’ said David hopping off the back and getting into the passenger seat, shoving Max between us.
At the mention of the other elephants, I looked up to where they were grazing about forty yards away. As I did so, Nana’s trunk suddenly snaked up. Even though she was upwind, elephants have such a superb sense of smell that they can pick up minute eddies swirling ever so slightly against the prevailing current.
‘Here we go,’ said David. ‘She’s smelt something. Either the rhino or the food, and now she’s inquisitive. Just pray that she doesn’t come this way.’
But of course she did. With the herd following, she started moving towards us, checking the air continuously, sniffing for the source of the scent.
‘Damn it!’ We now had the herd coming in on one side of the poor rhino and Mnumzane on the other. Even worse, they weren’t advancing in single file which would have been much more manageable. Nana was in the centre with Frankie, her daughter Marula and firstborn son Mabula on the left, while Nana’s young son Mandla and stately daughter Nandi spread out on the right.
Straight in front of them, still secreted in the bush was the woozy rhino, which to my dismay had begun settling down for a rest, making herself even more vulnerable.
‘OK,’ said David, ‘let’s do it again, draw them away with the feed.’
He leapt onto the back of the Land Rover and this time cut open two bags and got ready to pour a trail while I reversed in.
The reaction of the herd was interesting. They picked
up the scent and cautiously came towards us while David scooped pellets out as fast as possible. Mabula and Marula stopped and started sniffing at the strange fare but the rest, led by Nana and Frankie, continued on, slowly following the trail left behind the Land Rover.
Then – of all things – the Land Rover stalled and I couldn’t restart it. Thankfully the cabin rear window had long since lost its glass and with Nana almost on top of him David somehow squeezed his large body through the tiny gap and dived onto Max in the passenger seat in a tangle of limbs.
Then the elephants were on us. We were surrounded.
David turned and stared at the miniature window that he had somehow scrunched through. ‘Don’t think I could do that again,’ he laughed. ‘Amazing what a shot of adrenalin can do.’
Fortunately it was the feed the elephants were after and the two adults yanked the remaining bags off the back and tried standing on them to smash them open. Frankie, frustrated in her attempts to open one bag, grabbed it by the corner with her trunk and flicked it high into the air – thankfully in the opposite direction from the now-sleeping rhino. It sailed above our heads for at least thirty yards and landed with a thud, scattering its contents. Given that the bag weighed 120 pounds and she had only grasped it with the tip of her trunk, the height and distance of the throw was truly awesome.
The elephants loped off after the broken bag and while they were busy gorging themselves we were able to sneak out to fix the Land Rover. It was a disconnected fuel line and soon we restarted it. Now knowing that they loved horse feed I radioed for more and we were able to lay juicy trails of food leading the herd far away from our new arrivals.
We weren’t so lucky with Mnumzane. He had unfinished
business with the rhino, and soon lost interest in the scraps of feed on the ground, walking back towards where she lay.
There was nothing left to do but get between them and keep him away as best we could. My heart jumped at the thought, for even at his age he could easily toss our vehicle over if he wanted to. Bull elephants don’t like to be forced to do something against their will.
I drove past Mnumzane up to the drowsy rhino and blocked his path, leaving the motor running. He could easily walk around us of course, so the plan was to keep moving in front of him, obstructing him from the rhino and hope he got the message without feeling he had been interfered with. And particularly without provoking a charge.
On he came until he was about ten paces away and then stopped and watched us guardedly, assessing the situation with elephantine intelligence. As we predicted he started making a wide circle around the vehicle. Now came the tricky part because not only would he be much closer, but he would realize he was being thwarted.
‘Hold on,’ I said quietly as I gently moved the Landy forward to block him.
Again he stopped, this time less than five yards away and then he changed tack. I reversed and as we started moving his ears flared out and he swung to face us head-on. He had taken up the challenge and the tension in the Landy ratcheted up as he took an aggressive step towards us, head held high.
‘Shit!’ said David quietly.
‘No! Mnumzane, no!’ I called out the open window, ensuring that my voice conveyed intention rather than anger, or worse still fear. ‘No!’
Again he stepped forward, ears belligerently splayed, tail up. This was no game.
‘No, Mnumzane! No!’ I called again, as I reversed in a tight semicircle to keep him away. ‘No!’
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the rhino wake up, stumble to her feet and start moving off, giving us precious space in which to manoeuvre. Relieved, I swung the Landy around until we faced the temperamental elephant head-on with about ten yards separating us.
As we confronted each other he began swinging his front foot, a sure sign that he was going to charge. Without thinking I dropped the clutch and briefly lurched the Landy at him, and then again, challenging him directly.
‘Whoa!’ said David, gripping the dashboard. ‘Here he comes!’
Then as we braced for the inevitable charge, he suddenly broke and ran off at a gait, trunk held high. I had to press home our advantage and immediately followed him, goading him away until he reached thick bush and disappeared.
‘Flippin’ hell,’ said David, expelling breath with a whoosh. ‘That was a close one. I wouldn’t try that with an adult bull.’
He was absolutely right. Mnumzane’s youth was on our side, but it had worked and the rhino was safe. We posted a ranger with the rhino with instructions to call if any elephants reappeared and I went off to find Mnumzane and make my peace with him.
Frankie’s charge at Françoise and me, terrifying as it was, had in its own strange way strengthened the bond that I had been building with the herd. The fact that the matriarch Nana had not joined in was an impressive breakthrough. She had launched a few aggressive steps towards us, which is only to be expected of a wild elephant, but then she almost instantly halted. To me, the fact that she had not overreacted was significant.
Frankie, who had a sinister reputation already, had broken a full-blooded charge as soon as she recognized me – something virtually unheard of in the elephant world.
However, what happened a few months later, was even more surprising.
Françoise and I were fast asleep when Bijou’s persistent growling woke us. Bijou – jewel in French – is Françoise’s tiny Maltese poodle, the obligatory accoutrement of almost an entire nation of French women. Bijou enjoyed a privileged life beyond anything Max or Penny could ever hope to aspire to. She had the choice food, even real steak, and slept on the bed between us where for a time her major accomplishment was nearly destroying our sex life.
She was not a watchdog, so when she started growling I realized something serious was going on.
I jumped out of bed, grabbed my shotgun and then heard what the problem was – a heavy scraping on the roof
accompanied by soft thuds. The other dogs were also alert. Penny’s hair stood stiff as wire on her back and she was crouching protectively next to Françoise. Max was sitting at the door, ears cocked but calm, watching me quizzically for instructions.
I pulled on some trousers and then tentatively opened the top half of the stable door leading to the garden, shotgun at the ready.
Whoa! A giant figure suddenly loomed up and I got the fright of my life, hastily stepping back and tripping over Max, then staggering backwards until I slammed into the opposite wall, sprawling in an undignified mess on the floor. I somehow managed to keep the cocked shotgun from hammering into the wall and discharging a shot.
For there, standing in the doorway, casually pulling the grass from our thatched roof was Nana.
Woken by the commotion, Françoise was sitting up in bed holding Bijou tightly – staring at the apparition in the doorway. Like her, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Of all the spooky things that I could have imagined outside my front door at some ungodly hour, a full-grown elephant was definitely not one of them.
Recovering my composure I got up and walked toward the door and – not really knowing what to do – began talking softly to her.
‘Hey, Nana, you scared the hell out of me. What are you doing here, you beautiful girl?’
I will always remember her response. She stretched out her trunk and I did likewise with my hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world. For a few magnetic moments we connected. I stood a little closer, taking care to stay at the edge of her reach so she couldn’t grab me, and she moved the tip of her trunk over my T-shirt and then touched me on the head and face. I held my ground, completely entranced by the exhilarating combination of
danger and affection. Considering that she couldn’t see what she was doing as her eyes were above door level, she was surprisingly gentle.
She then lowered her head and moved forward, almost as if she was trying to come inside, and with that Bijou barked. The spell was broken.
I doubt whether many people have had a ten-foot, five-ton wild elephant trying to squeeze into their room via a narrow door, but take it from me, it is not a soothing experience.
Bijou and Penny went ballistic, sprinting around the room barking like banshees. Surprised, Nana backed off a few paces and flared her ears.
Alarmed that the dogs were going to be stomped flat, Françoise grabbed Penny and stuffed her into the bottom of a built-in clothes cupboard. She then rushed after Bijou who, assuming the unlikely role as protector of the realm, was now for reasons known only to her having a go at Max, shrieking at him in high-pitched Maltese. I’m convinced that Nana was just too awesome for the tiny poodle to grasp and thus she assumed all the confusion was to be blamed on a bemused Max, who sat patiently ignoring her.
Françoise caught her and as she was putting the semi-hysterical pooch into the cupboard, Penny pushed open her door and came back into the fray. She wasn’t going to let anything – not even an elephant – get between her and Françoise.
Françoise managed to scramble Penny into her arms again and as she pushed her back in the cupboard, Bijou bolted out. It was an absolute circus. Eventually we locked all three dogs in the bathroom, and I was able to concentrate on Nana.
With all the commotion she had moved off about ten paces and it was only then I saw that the entire herd was with her. I looked at my watch: 2 a.m.
‘This is amazing,’ I said to Françoise who had joined me at the door. ‘This is completely bloody amazing.’
‘What are they doing here?’
‘I have no idea. But we might as well enjoy it while it lasts.’
Enjoy it we did. There was an air of contentment as the animals strolled around the lawn in the moonlight, casting giant shadows across the garden like ghosts of the prehistoric world.
As they moved off to the front of the house I dashed across the lawn to the rangers’ quarters to wake David.
He shot up in his bed. ‘Poachers again?’
‘No. The elephants are here. Come quickly.’
‘What do you mean … here?’
‘Here at the house. They’re on the front lawn.’
‘Our front lawn? Our elephants … ?’
‘Come … get dressed.’
I rushed back to Françoise.
‘You’d better wash before you come near me,’ she said, pointing at me with feigned revulsion on her face. I looked at her, perplexed, then put my hand on my chest to feel a gooey, sticky mess.
‘Your head,’ she said, wrinkling her nose. ‘It’s also all over your head.’
I strode over to the mirror and saw exactly what she meant. I was covered in pachyderm slime. I must have had a half a pint of mucous from Nana’s trunk spread all over me.
‘I’ll wash later. David is joining us on the verandah. Let’s go and watch.’
I let Max out of the bathroom and the three of us sneaked across the lawn to the rangers’ house, keeping a sharp eye out for any stray jumbos and then went out onto the front verandah. Here Françoise had a grandstand view of the herd destroying her cherished garden; they pushed over trees, tore
apart her favourite bushes and ate every flower they could find. I must say she seemed less entranced by the visit than I was.
David came out and joined us. ‘This is unbelievable. They’re all here,’ he said, eyes straining against the gloom, ‘except Mnumzane.’
‘No, he’s here too. I saw him earlier.’
David found him standing alone in the dark about twenty yards away. ‘Poor guy. They tolerate him, but only just. He’s got no adult relatives so he’s always a Johnny-come-lately. I really hope he turns out OK.’
‘He’s a big boy,’ I replied. ‘He’ll be fine.’
Nana looked up from the garden she was demolishing and with a bunch of prized shrubs in her mouth ambled over to us. Max, who had moved a few paces onto the lawn, silently retreated to the relative safety of the verandah and then followed Françoise when I suggested she go inside in case Nana got too close.
It was something I just couldn’t get used to; the daunting vision of this gargantuan form looming ominously closer, apparently fixated on demonstrating her affection by standing right next to me. It was like having an infatuated Tyrannosaurus rex showering attention on you. What was even more mind-blowing was that not that long ago she would happily have killed me.
We decided to play it safe and David and I moved back inside the double door and watched her imposing bulk approach. She stopped at the low verandah wall and for the second time that dark morning stretched out her trunk to me. She couldn’t reach me, so I decided to hang back and watch and wait.
However, I underestimated her persistence – and her strength. Frustrated at my reluctance to come to her, she decided to come to me, trying to squash her vast frame between the two brick pillars that straddled the verandah
entrance. This obviously didn’t work, and we watched openmouthed as she then gently placed her forehead on the left pillar and gave an exploratory shove.
That certainly got my attention. I remembered what she had done to the gate poles at the
boma
and had no doubt she would bring the whole verandah roof down if she wanted to. I hastily stepped forward and she stopped shoving and lifted her trunk. Once again she snaked it over the top of my body. It was a good thing I hadn’t changed for I received another liberal basting of slime, while the sound of her deep rumbling stomach reverberated through the house, drowning out the thumping of my heart.
Satisfied, she eventually ambled away and joined the rest of the clan as they finished off the few remaining exotic plants in Françoise’s now obliterated garden.
Then suddenly an eight-week-old kitten we had slipped past us and completely oblivious of the herd walked out onto the lawn. We only noticed after it was too late and watched in horror – there was nothing we could do to get her back as she was now among the herd. The elephants got very interested in this tiny thing and all sauntered over for a close inspection. Still the tiny cat didn’t react – I think these alien creatures around it were simply too big for it to comprehend, just as they had been for Bijou. Soon it was surrounded and as the elephants put their trunks out, waving the tips around this tiny curiosity, it would swipe at them with its paw, playing with them.
Eventually the elephants got tired of it and walked off, leaving the kitten alone on the middle of the lawn.
Except Frankie. She initially walked away, and then when she was about twenty yards off, she suddenly turned and ran at it. It was a sight I don’t think I will ever see again – a five-ton elephant charging a five-ounce cat.
The kitten finally realized something was wrong and skittered back to us just in time.
We stayed up watching until 5 a.m. when, at the first hint of light, Nana moved off with the herd in tow. They were soon eaten up by the dense bush.
I stared after them. A sense of emptiness seeped into my universe. A part of me was leaving with them.

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