There are reportedly 132 lions within the Kidepo Valley National Park. That is a very big number of lions in one place. Granted, the park is over 1,442 square kilometres, but it is unlikely that these cats are evenly distributed. They are mostly hunting their next meal. A meaty meal.
This piece of information makes for wonderful news if you’re planning to visit the park, you know, for sights. There will mostly likely be a lion sighting. This same piece of information however was of concern to me when I found out I would be spending the night in the park. In a tent.
Yes, I would be surrounded by many other campers. Wild animals are afraid of crowds. Yes, I would be protected by armed rangers making up the last line of the campsite. These warders know animal behaviour very well. They can spot animals, miles away and they would know what to do. They have probably been attacked by one, but here they are, standing and living to tell the story. And guarding camp withing the park. Yes, there would also be an overnight fire at the campsite. It is said wild animals stay away from fires.
There was every reason to keep calm. And having around some seasoned campers I should have been at peace. Yet I wasn’t. I was nervous. And anxious. And paranoid.
I imagined a pride of lions on night duty walking through the park to investigate the interference. Our presence. I imagined them not being too happy with our numbers. With our fire. With our music, with our cars. A thought crossed my mind. Would it not be safer to use those high buses to seek overnight refugee than these thin tents?
I also reminded myself that I had just been up and down my first mountain just yesterday. My knees were not quite back to normal working order yet.
I imagined the lead lion pointing out direction to the rest, as if matching soldiers and calmly and unsmilingly stroll through the series of tents and asking for the leader. Our leader. That would be the chief slayer. This is the person who scouts the slay, creates the itinerary, plans everything, and is weighed down by such important decisions such as where to locate camp.
That is the person that we would point the lions to. To answer their questions.
I feared to imagine further. My paranoia can be quite creative given the chance.
So, I took the slot assigned for my tent, taking care to keep the entrance overlooking the campfire and my backside towards the park.
I worked in silence throughout. Busy with my thoughts. I wanted to enjoy the landscape, and the sunset. But I was dreading nightfall.
Suddenly, loud noises were heard from the other side of the rock. The campsite is located on a large rock overlooking the park. Running steps were heard and everyone dropped their tent building equipment to find out what this was. Hopefully not our hosts coming early.
I joined the inquisitive lookers in time to see a few men running after an animal within the park grass.
Further neck craning revealed it was a goat, meant for our dinner which had decided it wasn’t quite ready to die. It had chosen death by lions over humans.
It took a while for the runners and the rest of us to realise what the implication of this was.
Not, a night without dinner, silly.
It was bigger.
This is a national park full of carnivorous animals. And here was a loudly bleating goat running through the grass paying no attention to the kind of danger it was putting itself into, and its former captors. Here was a group of people chasing lions’ dinner right within the lion’s den.
It was one of the wardens who quickly pointed this out. Fast. And he was then on his feet, running after the goat and its pursuers, one hand holding his gun by his shoulder.
No. He wasn’t running to shoot the goat. He was running to protect the park runners in case someone else decided they would rather have the goat.
Soon, the goat was captured and tightly tethered next to the kitchen area.
Boredom returned to camp, as everyone worked to pitch their tents before sunset. There would be many overnight activities. And I for one was prepared to participate in all of them. I didn’t not plan to use my tent for the night.
Our backs now bent, and our hands and minds taken to finishing our tenet pitching, someone made a discovery. The goat had escaped from a point where one of us, Fundi, was pitching his tent and making a cocktail. Yes. He can multi-task.
Had he then not seen the goat get loose and walk off? Someone asked.
That was an important question, and all eyes turned to Fundi.
“Yes, I saw the goat walking off,” he answered unbothered.
A collective gasp escaped the remaining crowd. He almost cost us dinner by his inaction.
“I saw the goat walking off,” he continued,” then I said to it, dduka, bagenda kukulya!” And urged it to run off quickly, we were planning to eat it off that night. That is how the goat had picked up speed and how the runners had found themselves after after it.
With everyone mostly ready with their tent, it was time for an evening game drive through the park. One group took the safari car while the other went in the bus, not as comfortable and suited as the van, but better than nothing. We were each accompanied by several armed rangers who briefed us about the park, gazetted in 1962, and the animal and bird species endemic to the park. The Park is home to elephants, leopard, bush duiker, jackal, bushbuck, bush pig, ostrich, buffalo,a whole collection.
There is a rock within the park known as Pride rock where lions come to cool down after a long hunting day. Many a tourist have intimated one will never fail to find a lion if they came to this rock. We drove in the general direction of the rock.
But we saw no lions. We waited a bit. No lions. The ranger helpfully argued that because it had been a hot day, the stones were still hot themselves and therefore unattractive to the animals that would want some shade to escape the day’s heat.
We drove on dejectedly.
I didn’t not know how to feel about this kind of discovery. So, was our rock also out of bounds for lions in the night? I wanted to know.
I later asked the ranger how the campsite withing the park was selected and he, probably sensing my fear said, it was through thoughtful evaluation by the park management. It is true, the camp gives one a rare mix of being one with nature, with the clearest star views at night.
“It is safe to camp, he assured me. And we are there to protect you in case of any incident.”
Incident. That is quiet a calm way to refer to it. My mind was racing again.
Seeing that I needed more reassurance, he continued. “In the entire existence of that camp area, no tourist has been attacked by wildlife”. That is better history, I thought.
Thus calmed, I now turned my attention to the game drive. Eland here. Jackson hartebeest there, and herds of buffalo on display taking an evening stroll through the park and grazing.
“Buffaloes have very poor sight”, our ranger was telling us. “To compensate for that lack, they have very good sense of smell. They will most likely smell out an approaching aggressor before they can make them out with sight.”
He counselled not to run in a straight line if you ever faced off with one, rather in a zigzag style and possibly hide in a ditch where they cannot use their horns to lift and launch you into the air.
We returned to camp without having sighted a single lion. We had however taken beautiful pictures of the sunset over the park landscape.
The other team did better, sighting herds of elephant and buffalo. They also sighted a leopard.
Back at camp, it was celebratory mood. Having hiked mountain Morungole the previous day, muscles were more accommodative now. Drinks were unpacked and food served. Conversation flows smooth over an open sky at the campfire.
I quite suspect that more people had similar plans as I, to not put their heads down for the night. The night picked up quite fast with celebration of birthday babies and several dance impressions-however the spirit moved.
Occasionally, someone would revive the withering campfire and the night would wear on.
Either out of fatigue, Dutch courage, change of attitude or the ever-winning sleep one by one the campers moved to their tent for a well-deserved rest.
I would soon follow.
I slept soundly, only waking up the most beautiful sunrise I had ever encountered.
Now lion paws were observed.