An Elephant Bull Called Elizabeth and Other Short Stories from Africa

Walking With Elephants

In the still morning air the crack of branches travelled a long way; even so the noise was faint and was only really decipherable for what it was if you had heard such sounds before.  It was obvious that there was more than one animal feeding up ahead and, given the wide front from which the noises emanated, it was likely we had found our quarry.

The light was yet to harden and the tracks we had been following for the last half hour still had a freshly minted sheen to them.  If there had been any doubt as to the age of the spoor then steaming piles of dung, bright green and warm, would have sufficed as confirmation that we were closing in.

Until now the bush had been silent.  Silent that is in the sense that the elephants up ahead had simply been walking  in single file and had not been feeding; no adult had uttered a sound, at least not one audible to a mere human, nor had any youngster thrown a tantrum about being hungry or tired.  The other bush noises had been present.  The call of a Tchagra emanating from the thickets.  The distant cry of a fish eagle perched over the waters of Lake Kariba.  The snort of an over excited male impala trying to chase off a rival.  

Feeding noises meant that the small herd of about ten elephants which we had been following had now reached their destination, slowed and spread out to feed.  The matriarch would have determined this mornings feeding grounds.  She and her family had been roaming Matusadona National Park since time in memorial and knew where the best forage was to be found.  It was early in the dry season yet so the bush had not fully dried out thus there was still mixture of grass and browse available.  Later in the year these great beasts would be almost entirely dependent on stripping trees of their remaining leaves and, thereafter, their bark.

Today there were no guests lined up behind me.  There was only my tutor, Andy.  For over two years he had been teaching me all I needed to know to become a fully licenced professional guide.  Our purpose this morning was to approach the elephants up-ahead as closely as we dared, then retreat without them ever realising we had visited.  

It was a training run, I was honing my skills in preparation for my final exams which loomed large on the horizon.  We would be pushing the limits, going closer than you ever would dare with guests.  It wasn't an exercise in bravado, it was an exercise in how get yourself out of a tricky situation without having to resort to use of the firearm hanging loosely in my right hand.  Of course there was always a chance it would go wrong, but better to gain that experience without the added pressure of unpredictable guests not following commands when the crunch came.  Better by far to try and never get yourself into such a tight spot with guests in the first place.

The mopane surrounding us gave adequate cover.  The ground beneath our feet was barren; in two months time it would be littered with crunchy leaves dried and fallen from trees that looked all but dead; but not today.  Today we could press forward quite quickly without being seen or heard.  Wind would be our biggest concern.  For now the breeze was light but consistent and in our favour.  It would not remain that way.  As the heat of the day built thermals would form and the breeze would switch one hundred and eighty degrees in an instant or veer back and forth unpredictably.  One unexpected whiff of a human and the game would be up.  

Leading the way I slipped silently between stunted mopane trees, damaged and broken from the attentions of elephant on numerous previous occasions.  As expected we closed quickly but there was a hitch.  Our cover had come to an end.  There was a line in the sand, literally.  A change in soil from clay to sand meant a change in vegetation.  This was why the elephants had broken ranks and started to feed.  Palm trees, both tall and straight and stunted and bushy, dotted the grassland in front of us.  The breeding herd was out there.  Well spaced, unaware and content with either ripping up rapidly diminishing supplies of palatable grass or taking in the occasional mouthful of palm leaf.