Project update - July 2006

Glorious dog watching days at the beginning of July have ended with tragedy.

After Jealous and I located the den of our Umtchibi pack, we had been waiting patiently for the day when the pups were old enough to venture from the den itself and so allow us the privilege of watching their boisterous antics. Prior to this eventful day we enjoyed so many moments with the adults and yearlings entertaining us with their own playful behaviour. Following them on countless hunting forays and watching with intense concentration as they returned to the den, disappearing into the thick bush, to feed the hungry alpha female, named Mango and the yearling "babysitter" named Amber. It was by watching this behaviour with such intensity that I was happy with my decision on exactly where the den actually was, though we had still not seen it.

I calculated the days and knew that the pups must be at least 5 weeks old, old enough to be leaving the security of the den and playing in close proximity to it. My decision made, I drove in, slowly, slowly edging towards a point that I calculated would bring me approximately 30 metres from the mouth of the den. This was a distance, which Greg and I knew was a "comfortable space" for the dogs. Any closer and they would be agitated to the point of abandoning the den. It was an entirely different matter if the dogs or pups approached us.

I pushed the landrover through the thick bush, smiling at the concern Jealous would have been expressing over the tyres and the inevitable punctures. Sure enough, three punctures in 24 hours!! But it was worth it. In the company of two dedicated dog watchers, who had a combined 38 years of safari excursions in Africa, all aimed at seeing dogs, we arrived at my pre-selected point and saw the den for the first time. A single hole, which is unusual, and which would ultimately prove to be catastrophic.

The pack of nine were all lying in various positions around the den, encircling it at a distance ranging from a metre or so up to twenty-five metres. They hardly bothered to lift a head, recognising for sure that it was "us" and thus no threat. Mango walked towards us, stopping just a couple of metres from the landrover, perhaps to make sure that we really were no threat. Satisfied, she slowly turned and walked back to the mouth of the den and called the pups out with a familiar, soft, low whine.

Six, maybe seven, perhaps eight, balls of fluff scrambled out of the hole. Running on legs too short for their pot bellies, uncoordinated, clumsy and comical. The yearlings all rushed to the den and lay down, squirming with absolute pleasure as the pups climbed all over them. My companions "unlucky 38 year streak" had certainly been broken. Eventually we agreed that it was six pups.

A week went by, with the pups growing in size, confidence and coordination before our eyes. Apparently full of joy at the prospects of life ahead, their characters developing already, "Spot" showing himself as a potential alpha male, more adventurous than the others he always ventured the furthest and was always the last to go back into the den.

And then the lions came.

Our colleagues from the Hwange Lion Research Project had told us that the dogs' den was in the centre of the biggest pride of lions they studied. Eleven lions, formed from adult females, sub adult males, juveniles and one magnificent black manned male, making twelve in total.

Our joy was shattered by a phone call. A local guide had rushed to the nearest phone having witnessed the lion's attack. Jealous and I dropped everything and rushed to the scene, stopping briefly to talk to the guide and get his story.

The lions had been seen at a waterhole just 1km from the dogs' den. He knew that trouble was ahead and watched helplessly as the lions moved deliberately towards the den. Obscured from view by the thick bush "all hell broke loose" - furious growling, alarm barks from the dogs, it was pandemonium. Dogs ran in all directions and exploded out onto the nearby dusty road. Now in full view, the lions chased the dogs, an adult lioness caught "Beans". However before she could inflict the killing bite, the rest of the dogs attacked her without fear, biting her vulnerable behind and so driving her off their precious pack mate. "Beans" came to his feet, shaking his head as if to clear the daze and then threw himself back into the fray. Dogs chased lions, lions chased dogs, a stand off resulted until the lions finally melted away into the bush. Too nervous to approach the den the dogs also moved into the shade of the thick bush and waited.

That was the scene that greeted Jealous and I. With our hearts in our mouths we drove slowly through the bush towards the den, vultures sat in the trees all around us. Two lionesses and a sub adult male lay near the den, but moved away quickly as our vehicle approached. We followed them through the bush as best we could, "pushing" them further and further away from the den. Not even Jealous was concerned about our tyres this time.

Returning to the den we sat and waited for signs of life. Eventually, as the sun set behind us, the pack moved cautiously towards the den site, nervously scrutinising the bush around them with each fearful step. We wished that we could have communicated somehow, letting them know that the lions had gone. As the pack searched the bush, Mango and her alpha male, Pita, approached the den and called softly. Three pups came scrambling out. We waited for more, but they didn't come. Mango dug at the den, maybe it had collapsed a bit and some were trapped. We hoped and waited but the other three did not show.

Jealous and I drove a short distance away and waited through the night, listening to the hypnotic "beep" from "Beans" collar. We wondered if his collar had saved his life by protecting his throat. Early in the morning, as the full moon reached its zenith, the pack moved away, abandoning the den to set up a new one some 500 metres away.

We had seen the three surviving pups clearly the night before and knew that "Spots" life, full of promise, had ended in a lion's jaws. Jealous and I inspected the den site and found the remains of his tiny body. If he had died where he lay, he was too far from the safety of the den, which only had one entrance hole.

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