The current rainy
season is one of the best people can remember around here, with
the promise of good crops in the fields lifting everyone's spirits.
For the wildlife too, the coming year already promises to be one
of plenty. Hwange National Park looks amazing, the bush so thick
and vibrant, which makes game viewing difficult - however there
is life everywhere, seemingly in great abundance. The hugely debated
elephant population are noticeable by their absence, adding more
fuel to the arguments over population densities and numbers. With
so much water about, every pan and depression in the sandy soil
full or overflowing, this is indeed a time of plenty, unless,
you happen to be searching for dogs!!!!
Ask Jealous, next time you see him, what
it is like to search for the dogs in an immense African thunderstorm!!
He will greet you with his famous smile if you talk about the
rains in relation to the crops in his fields, but you will get
a different reaction if you ask him about tracking the dogs at
this time of year. Only last week, we had to send a rescue party
out to pull him from the mud!! Luckily he was within the range
of our radio network and so he was able to call in and give his
position. We drove out to him through an impossible storm, visibility
reduced to a metre or so in front of the truck. We found him sat
in the back of his landrover, looking like the proverbial drowned
rat!! His landrover does not have any windows. He was stuck axle
deep and it took us a while to dig and then pull his vehicle out.
He was concerned that he had "lost" the Umtchibi pack.
I was concerned that he would catch pneumonia and quickly drove
him home in my truck, so he could take a hot shower and get some
warm food inside himself.
Our adventures earlier in the month had
been a lot more rewarding, even in the rain. The Umtchibi pack
have quickly filled the void left by the Sethule, who dissolved
as a pack following the death of the alpha male towards the end
of 2004 and the disappearance of the alpha female during 2005.
Being at least nine years old, she has probably died as well.
Greg managed to get the first collar on
the Umtchibi pack in November last year. However two of the adults
have dispersed from the pack since then and so we were concerned
that we would lose our ability to locate them if the collared
dog also dispersed. Thus a concerted effort was made to fit at
least one more collar. So, 5am brought on a familiar scene of
Jealous and I driving out to find a pack of dogs, coffee in hand.
The rains wash away the spoor (footprints)
that Jealous can usually follow with ease, while the thick bush
absorbs the signal emanating from the radio collar, which means
that we have to get within approximately one kilometre of the
dog wearing the collar before we will get a signal. One kilometre
out of a home range of over 750 square kilometres - that takes
some doing.
However, we know the dogs like no other,
except Greg, of course, whose intensive "training" had
prepared us many years ago. Discussing all the recent sightings
as we drove along, Jealous and I determined our main search area
and began to dissect it, listening through the headphones for
that familiar high pitched "beep", sent out by the radio
collar and picked up by the receiver in my truck. After a couple
of hours driving the signal came in: beep, beep, beep.
While driving around we use an omni directional
antenna to pick up the signal from the radio collar. This type
of antenna picks up the signal but does not give any hint of the
direction, so we quickly switched to the directional antenna and
homed in on the dog's position. We soon found the collared dog,
named "Beans", and the rest of his pack mates lying
around a small rain water pan, their stomachs indicating that
they had clearly enjoyed a good meal the night before or a snack
that very morning; five adults and nine hyper active pups.
As Jealous and I prepared the darts the
pups moved around the vehicle, very relaxed, investigating tyres,
hot exhaust pipes and any loose brake cables or wires. With the
rifle and darts ready, Jealous identified the alpha male and slowly
manoeuvred the truck into position so I could dart him. Using
a range finder, I determined the distance, set the pressure gauge
on the rifle accordingly and took aim. Jealous touched me on the
shoulder and whispered "leopard". I turned around, a
puzzled expression on my face "did you say leopard?"
As I uttered these words, the place erupted, dogs racing after
the leopard, which made it to the safety of a nearby tree. The
noise was deafening, fourteen over excited dogs and one snarling
leopard perched up a tree. However it was over in a matter of
seconds, the dogs having showed the leopard who was boss, returned
to their leafy shade and the leopard jumped down and melted away.
Grinning from ear to ear, Jealous and I
turned our attention back onto the dogs and I darted the alpha
male, who flinched slightly as the dart hit him, then walked down
to the pan for a drink. This we did not want as he could actually
drown when he began to succumb to the anesthetising drugs while
lying in the water. We moved closer and as soon as it was obvious
that the drugs had taken effect we jumped out of the truck and
picked him up. The rest of the pack stood ten metres away watching
us. The darted dog was fine and without further delay we fitted
his protective radio collar with our "audience" of thirteen
dogs watching every move.
With the collar fitted we moved "Pita"
into the shade of a thick bush, well away from the water, and
gave him the reversal injection. By now the rest of the pack had
got bored and moved some 50 metres away into their own shade bush.
After a few minutes Pita began to wake up and stagger around,
looking for his pack. One of the pups saw him and began to approach
cautiously, probably wondering why his father was behaving so
strangely. Once he was sure it was his father, he mobbed him,
in some sort of a role reversal of the "Prodigal Son".
The rest of the pack could not ignore this and all joined in,
racing around, excitedly, seemingly welcoming the return of their
missing leader.
