Day 22 of 31

Cat-walking in the thickest bush in Nyae Nyae

Tuesday, 13 May 2014

Robert dropped in Tsumkwe for a relative's funeral. Six-twenty in the morning, a big bull spoor with muddy pad-edges — we cannot tell young from old. Felix takes it. The country is the thickest we have worked, twig on twig, dry leaves under every step. We cat-walk. We make cracking sounds every step. Every step.

Robert went into Tsumkwe for a funeral in the morning. At twenty past six a big spoor on the dirt road to the park, mud on the edges, hiding the age. Felix took it.

Tracking him was easy in the sand and hard in everything else, because he walked only in thick bush. We cat-walked most of the way. We made a cracking sound with every step. There was no possibility of not making noise. Old dung — cold. Old tracks, old feeding sign. We were in his home range.

The thickest bush in Nyae Nyae — Twigs on twigs. Every step cracked. Every step

His sleeping spot at nine-thirty. Then hard ground, tall grass, and cow sign on top of his. We lost his line nine times. The old man and Chou took an hour and forty minutes to recover one of them. I had given him up for gone. They did not.

Hard ground and tall grass — the lost lines — An hour and forty minutes to find him again — I’d given up

At two-ten in the afternoon, after six point one kilometers, a glimpse — thirty-five meters out. Big body, very old back. He heard us as we got on top of him and he went. Fifteen minutes to let him settle. The old man pointed to the print: “He stopped running here. He stood to listen. Then he walked.”

Two kilometers on, breaking branches in a thicket. We cat-walked in and saw him with two young bulls. The young bulls were forty to fifty pounds each. We could not see the old bull’s tusks — he was deeper in, in thick stuff.

Glimpses through thick bush of the three bulls — Three bulls in a thicket — we could not see the old one’s ivory

The wind swirled. One of the young bulls came toward us — checking us out, checking the wind. Felix signaled a back-out. We waited half an hour for the wind to hold a direction. At twenty-five to three Felix made the call to go in with just the two of us — fewer men, less noise. We got to thirty meters of one of the young bulls. The others were behind thick brush. The wind turned again and caught us. The young bull broke. The other two were gone before we saw them.

Late afternoon — the walk back after the wind turned — Close to four in the afternoon — we had to turn for the cruiser

We gave it up. It was close to four already, and we had an hour and a half of light to get back. Another good bull we never put eyes on properly.