Zakouma

>
> It's a cool night in the Sahel. Baboons are howling across the
> wadi. I pull on my beanie and climb in the back of the modified
> Land Cruiser. Cutting off the cab, welding chairs in the bed and
> painting it forest green have made the old rebel attack pickup
> almost unrecognizable. I stand behind the front seat holding onto
> the bar across my chest. Gary fires up the engine and Wendy hands
> me the spotlight plugged into the cigarette lighter. Sarah is
> seated to my right and Cherise lays across Wendy's lap staring into
> the moonlit sky. Except for a group of Tunisian engineers who
> arrived earlier in the evening, we are the only visitors to the
> Zakouma National Park near Am Timan. Exhausted by their 15 hour
> trip, the Tunisians hole up in the restaurant, leaving us alone to
> explore the African night.
>
> In a few minutes we have left the small campground behind and turn
> on the road towards the airstrip. To our right, a pool of water
> houses a couple of crocodiles as an image from earlier in the day
> flashes across my mind of a large jaw and head bursting out of the
> calm waters clutching a mammoth catfish temporarily in its teeth
> before twisting and swallowing the huge mouthful and disappearing
> again into the green depths.
>
> We are looking for eyes. Skimming the spotlight across the surface
> of the grasslands and acacia trees from right to left we seek out
> the night prowlers and resting herds through the reflection of their
> eyes. Groups of reddish green pairs reveal striped antelopes with
> twisted horns as triangular faces stare us down. Smaller
> reflections lead to tiny nimble footed gazelles that skip and hop
> and jump about, frightened by their own shadows. Narrow set eyes
> close to the ground on closer inspection lead to long, slender genet
> cats with their striped bushy tails hunting mice and other critters
> in the short grass around the watering holes as the slither and
> slink close to the ground. Large, bouncing eyes high in trees let
> us know of the presence of Galapagos tree climbers that are to swift
> to follow, appearing and disappearing only to reappear several
> meters away up the branches.
>
> In the vast, green pastures around the water holes that dot the
> wadi, herds of gazelles, deer and antelope rest, graze and cast a
> nonchalant look at the passing human intruders. One herd is guarded
> by a pair of greenish, blue eyes, wide set apart encirceled by horns
> flowing over the sides of the head like a wig over powerful
> shoulders and the stocky body of a water buffalo. Several hundred
> meters further on a group of those evil, green eyes is staring at us
> from the edge of the pond. Without a working four wheel drive, we
> are loathe to pursue, but instead, these fearless creatures make
> their move towards us as they huddle together and move confidently
> and deliberately towards the truck in an oblique manoeuvre meant to
> impress but not threaten.
>
> Huge black and white storks stand awkwardly in the marshes. Great
> herons balance on slender legs before taking off in lumbering
> flight. Small headed, spotted birds that fly like butterflies
> startle up from the road and sides of the road at the approach of
> the headlights. Some seem paralyzed till the last minute when they
> make a desperate flutter to escape right in front of the charging
> grill. Gary actually stops once and manages to get his hands around
> one that I've stunned with the spotlight before it flaps out of his
> palms. Small, big eyed birds reflect the spotlight light wildcats
> temporarily confusing me until the eyes start to take flight. An
> owl stares us down with it's unblinking eyes sitting on a branch
> directly overhead before taking off, its silent wings beating
> noiselessly through the dry and dusty night.
>
> Gary punches the gas and the Land Cruiser lurges forward towards
> some antelopes grazing near the road and a dark, compact, lumbering
> creature holding close to the ground. He enters the road and turns
> to follow directly in our headlights revealing short, powerful legs
> and dense, black fur. A long, thick neck leads to a flattened head
> with a mouse grasped firmly in it's teeth. If there was still any
> doubt, its characteristed back and forth lumbering gait gives it
> away as a badger.
>
> Harder to see than the genets, we get glimpses here and there in the
> distance across the grass of a larger, slinkier striped cat: a
> civit cat. A raccoon like tail disappears into the bush. A panther
> like back end slinks around a corner. We never get a full few, but
> enough to appreciate the grace of this medium sized feline.
>
> We see quite a few giraffes from a distance, but none up close. One
> small herd has a couple of babies only recognizable that far away by
> the reflections of the eyes being so much closer to the ground than
> the adults.
>
> We near the end of our night safari. We pass the mud, thatched
> roofed huts of the village of Zakouma and pull onto the airstrip
> where Gary zig zags across at high speed. We see one hyena lazily
> reclining on the edge of the strip. Coming back out from the hangar
> we see another Galapagos' eyes bouncing quickly away in the
> treetops. Coming back out onto the airstrip I see a group of eyes
> far away. We pursue and find two groups of four hyenas each, all
> lying down in two piles. As we pull within 20 feet, they lumber up
> staring at us with their evil eyes and panting jaws open revealing
> dangerous teeth over their skulking, spotted bodies. The move off
> into the bush, cackling in their high pitched witches' laughs.
>
> At the end of the airstrip we take the road heading back to the
> camp. Out of the corner of my eye I see a big shape pull to its
> feet. I swing the spotlight and just catch a giraffe who has just
> pulled to it's feet 10 meters away. Another giant turns its long
> neck around to stare at us from it's long face before starting to
> walk gracefully away like a couple of long-legged models strutting
> their stuff. They move up to a blob on the ground with a chimney
> pointing to the sky. Rocking forward to get it's hind legs up and
> then backward like a camel the slumbering giraffe gracefully and
> rapidly regains its footing. Picking up speed, the three now gallop
> off in seemingly slow motion their front legs moving like huge
> scissors as their back legs move in tandem to catch up. They
> effortlessly cover huge amounts of ground in each stride. After
> putting a little distance between them and us they move back into
> their most graceful of walks like a couple of movie stars exiting
> the premier in their fur coats.
>
> Several hundred meters later I briefly catch a glimpse of a large,
> black animal staring straight at me. I'm sure it's a baby
> elephant! Gary backs up and tells me to turn off the spotlight as
> it may charge. When we're just across from where I see it, Gary
> plugs in the spotlight...and we see a huge waterbuffalo staring us
> down. Impressive, but not what I hoped to see!
>
> Almost back to camp, we see what looks at first like a dog running
> on the road ahead of us. We approach and when we are within a few
> feet it turns sharply into the bush revealing a Serval cat with it's
> tiny head, spotted body and long, lithe legs and tail. It springs
> away as only a cat can and disappears into the night. Just 100 feet
> from the turnoff into the camp I spot three pairs of eyes to the
> left. One pair lifts up revealing a blood stained snout. I shout
> at Gary and he screeches to a halt and backs up. We turn off the
> road and head straight for a recently killed buck. It's lifeless
> eyes stare back at us from the ground. It's fat stomach spills out
> matted grass where it has been left under the tree where it was
> killed. The two hyenas that dragged it away lift their snouts out
> of the carcass revealing red stained fur all the way down their
> chests. The back leg is missing leaving a mound of tattered flesh
> up to the open abdomen pooled with blood. The neck shows no injury,
> but matted fur suggests maybe a lion killed it before being chased
> off by the hyenas. They are reluctant to leave their meal, but
> slink around in the periphery of our headlights waiting for us to
> leave which we soon do.
>
> The next morning, we drive out to the site and see four hyenas
> fighting over all that's left, a piece of torn leather. Their
> bellies are engorged so they can barely walk. No bones, organs or
> even blood remains....only that tattered hide. One hyena tries to
> make off with it. Another runs up and grabs it in a macabre game of
> tug of war as they run of cackling and chortling into the early dawn
> of a new day in Chad.
>
>