African Encounters 09/10/2005 (This is one of a series of articles I wrote dealing with memories of an African childhood. To read the first of these, click here)I have never seen a leopard in the wild. Although I lived in Africa for 27 years and saw lions, buffalo, giraffe, zebra, elephant and any number of other large and impressive animals, I never saw a leopard. And it is not as if they are rare; in Africa, most rocky hills of decent size will have a resident leopard. Sightings are extremely uncommon, however.Part of the reason for this is that they are nocturnal, of course. They do occasionally move about during the day but you won't see them even then. They are experts at remaining hidden.I had one encounter with a leopard in which I was no more than a couple of yards from the animal yet did not see it. There was a wall between us admittedly, but there was also an open window in that wall. It was late at night and I was asleep in a cottage in the Inyanga Mountains of Zimbabwe. What awoke me was the sound of a cough, a human cough it seemed to my dazed mind. But, when it came again, I knew instantly that it came from a leopard; there is something just a little too throaty and deep about a leopard's cough for it to be mistaken long for a sound that a human could make. Several times it coughed and I could tell that it was just outside the window. I lay still and listened, not afraid, for I knew it would not attempt to enter through the window. After perhaps four or five coughs, silence ensued and it became clear that the leopard had moved on.That encounter has heightened the already-considerable mystique of the leopard for me. Their elusiveness and the beauty of their spotted coats combine to create an animal of much greater allure than the other great cats of Africa, the somnolent and flea-bitten lion or frequently-seen cheetah.There are other animals that have an attraction in similar fashion; it is not a matter of the animal's rarity but rather of its ability to stay hidden from humans that creates this effect. The hyena, for instance, is common in Africa but very rarely seen, once again because it is nocturnal. I have only ever seen one and that occasion is etched into my memory.It was early in the morning and we were driving along a dirt road in some game park or another (they all merge into one after a while). Up ahead we saw an animal slouching along the road, unhurried and unconcerned by our arrival. As we came nearer, we recognized the hunch-shouldered and rolling gait that is so characteristic of the hyena. We drove up right behind it but it did not move out of the way or increase its pace. Instead, it stopped and turned around to look at us over its shoulder.That is the moment that my mind holds like a still photograph: the dawn light, golden with the dry dust of the road, the gold and black creature before us, its powerful shoulders and massive head, and the dark assessment in its eyes as it looked at us. For two or three seconds we were all frozen in mutual contemplation; and then the hyena turned and sloped off into the grass at the side of the road.One would not expect that an animal of as evil repute as the hyena should be one of the most vivid of my memories of Africa. It was perhaps the fact that this was my only encounter with the animal that gives the moment its extra significance, similar to the sighting of a waterbuck recounted in Whistler.There are other lone sightings that I can remember, the water monitor, for instance. But this is not quite so magical to my mind as the experiences I have mentioned already. The monitor is a reptile, after all, and amounts to little more than a very big lizard.Just one more instance occurs to me, perhaps the most memorable of all; the sable antelope. It is a large antelope, second in size to the placid and rather bovine eland, and is so noble in looks that it was inevitably chosen as Zimbabwe's national emblem. The irony lies in the fact that you could spend your entire life in that country and never see a sable in the wild.They are there, of course, but keep to thickly-wooded country and stay in small family groups of no more than five or six. Like the leopard, they are experts at camouflage and wary of humans. The males are black with white bellies and splashes of white upon their faces, and their horns are long and curved like scimitars. The females are less spectacular, being brown and with shorter horns, but they are still impressive animals.The sable that I saw was a male and the setting in which he chose to present himself is a perfect example of how these animals have a knack for displaying themselves in regal mode. I was driving back home from Harare to Bulawayo, a distance of 300 miles, and had about 70 miles still to go. It was late evening, the sun dipping below the horizon and dusk gathering quickly, as it does in Africa. The road at that point cuts through a hillside and the land rises above in a steep cliff on one side. Trees crown this rise except for the highest point, where they have left a small clearing at the edge of the cliff. And this was where he had chosen to stand, in classic sable pose, upright, impassive, shoulders and neck held high above the sloping back, head raised to survey his domain and horns sweeping back in a perfect curve. He stood unmoving, silhouetted against the deepening blue of the evening sky.It was only for two or three seconds that I was able to see him. Then the car had shot through the cutting and I lost sight of him. But that picture is stored like a photograph in my memory, a timeless reminder of all that was good about Africa. It is fitting, too, that it should be the national animal of Zimbabwe that I remember thus; times have changed for that now-unhappy country but my sable remains as an emblem of things that never decay.I searched the net for pictures of this majestic animal and found a few, all copyrighted, unfortunately. So I cannot illustrate this post but would urge you to have a look at this picture and this one. No attempt of mine to describe the sable can hope to convey how truly regal they are but these two photographs give some idea, at least.And that is Africa as I remember it; with so many animals of all kinds that one became blasé about them, only to be awoken suddenly by some unexpected encounter with the real thing. I am grateful that I lived there at a time when much of the wild remained and I prefer not to think about the devastation that has taken place since those days. Life goes on, times change, but memory preserves what matters.(to read the next of the African Memories articles, click here)
Clive
Janus Wow I am the first to comment for a change =). Beautiful description of the animals and loved the photos. Makes me want to see Africa. I did not think of leopards as a cat that would sneeze until I read that, but I suppose thats because I can only picture one sleeping in a zoo or on the hunt. For copywritten photos belonging to someone else, they are good pictures too. So have you frequently heard the Hyenas, even though you may not have seen them as much? Date Added: 10/10/2005
Gone Away Actually, I've never heard a hyena laugh, Janus. But leopards do cough, even though they may not have the flu... ;) Date Added: 10/10/2005
Mad The "frequently-seen cheetah" has become an elusive sight these days sadly. They're one of my favourites for some reason. I was in the car when we saw the Sable and even though I was tiny it has remained with me too a symbol of Africa. He was such a regal fellow. I feel a similar awe of the Kudu I saw in Chobe. We drove round a corner and standing at a waterhole was huge male kudu - spiral horns sweeping the sky - what a grand old chap he was. Aaah Africa Date Added: 10/10/2005
Matt I have not been to Africa, but am in awe of the animals there. My favorite recollection of any wild creature is from a time when I visited Yellowstone NP in Wyoming just after the end of winter. I went hiking one very windy afternoon, and crested the top of a large rise which overlooked a long, wide valley. The first greens of spring were just starting to come up, but winter had taken one last gasp and frost and some snow lay lightly on everything. As I topped the hill, I saw not 40 feet in front of me, the edge of a smallish herd of bison, there were probably a hundred of them. Their fur was dusted with frost and steam rose from their backs in places as they huddled on the side of this hill, apparently to get out of some of the wind. The moved slowly, milling about on this hill, grazing... doing whatever it does that bison do when standing on a hill together. One of them came very close to me. Not sure if she was checking me out or just happened in my direction, but she wandered past about 10 feet from me and I could see her watching me as she walked. As I saw her approaching, I moved slowly over to a rather large rock that stood alone on top of that hill in case she decided she didn't really want any company or the herd decided to move in my direction. I didn't really want to be that one idiot every year who gets gored by a bison in Yellowstone. I climbed up on this rock and sat down, about 8 feet off the ground and watched these creatures for awhile. I'm not sure what prompted it, but a few of the bison headed off further down into the valley, and as they did, the rest of the herd just sort of fell in behind them and they all kind of tromped down the hill together, going where, I don't know, leaving me sitting on that rock watching them go. They seemed impossibly big when they were close by, but as they crept down the hill into that deep valley, what struck me was how quickly they became small and how large the world seemed at that moment. Date Added: 10/10/2005
Gone Away Ah, Africa indeed, Mad. Funny that the kudu should stand out for you; I've seen so many of them that they don't seem special at all to me. There are two animals in England that did the magic trick for me: the water rat (of all things) in the Avon at Stoneleigh and the red squirrel in Northumbria. For some reason the adder on Dartmoor just doesn't hack it... Date Added: 10/10/2005
Gone Away Great description, Matt - I can see the scene as you're telling it. Everything adds up to make that a memorable experience: the cold that made steam rise from the bison, the huge expanse of scenery, the proximity of such large animals and, of course, the mystique of such an animal. The bison is always special, being such a part of the old west and having come so close to extinction. Somehow one feels honored to have witnessed sights like these. Date Added: 10/10/2005
Beltane I'm so envious. I need to counterfeit Canadian passports for my family so we can travel to these places of such majestic beauty. Unfortunately, in all my travels in the western hemisphere, all my 'moments' have been with architecture. I wonder what that says about me :p Date Added: 10/10/2005
Gone Away That's really interesting, Beltane. Now that you mention it, I can remember buildings that had something special about them. Perhaps that's a subject for another blog post... ;) Date Added: 10/10/2005
John (SYNTAGMA) I've heard a kookaburra laugh in Australia. Now that is a real laugh ~ a bit like the old Laughing Policeman. I think hyenas are called "laughing" because their wide mouths make them look as if they're laughing.
Great memories, Clive. I've never been to Africa, though I've seen it from my rooftop on the Costa Del Sol and felt the hot August wind from the Sahara. It will forever be "the Dark Continent" for me. I've never fancied being a Sanders of the River type. Btw, have you read the Botswana books by Alexanda McCall-Smith? "The Number 1 Ladies' Detective Agency" is the first in the series. They certainly tell Africa in a different way, very positive. Though since Magabe went beserk they may now have been overtaken by events. Date Added: 10/10/2005
Gone Away Although I've not heard a hyena, John, I've read that they do sound as though they're laughing, perhaps not as much as a kookaburra. Their huge mouths probably add to the impression, as you say. As for Alexander McCall-Smith, I've just finished reading one of his books. They capture perfectly the simple and straightforward nature of the African and I smiled all the way through the book. Memories. But it's Botswana that the books are set in - a different country from Mugabe's Zimbabwe and not subject to his rapaciousness therefore. Botswanans are a gentle, peace-loving folk and have always been fortunate in having good government. Their secret may be that it is a poor country and offers politicians little chance to fill their pockets at the expense of others therefore... Date Added: 10/10/2005
ME Strauss Clive, Your post does a marvelous job of painting a picture of the awe that nature can inspire. I could see and feel some of what the experience must mean to you. Matt, I was there with you too, particularly since I'm familiar with that part of the country. My own two were 6 Koalas in their natural habitat--don't stand under them :)--and even more so a flock of cockatoo taking flight along the open road between Melbourne and Canberra at the start of what was the most spectacular sunset I've ever seen. Kind of makes you wonder why we get so caught up in *people things." Date Added: 10/10/2005
Gone Away There is something special about nature experienced directly, isn't there, Liz? And so often it's the little, less regarded things that spring the surprise. Now you're going to have to describe that sunset for us. ;) Date Added: 10/10/2005
Ken Beautiful atmospheric description, Gone Away - I can see we'll have you writing poems before long - which really brings the moments to life. I loved the phrase "dark assessment" of the hyena, which seemed to me to be perfect for the descriptive task. I count myself many times blessed to have lived and travelled in places not dissimilar to the ones you describe, insofar as they still had their emptiness and wildness and provided me with memories of instants in space and time so intense that I have carried them with me ever since: leatherbacks in Thailand in the days before concrete hotels; a huge iguana strolling across a dirt road near a place called Tanjong Pagar in Malaysia one hot Sunday afternoon when both my children were asleep in the back of the car and missed it; a python of enormous length (or so it seemed to me) emerging out of a storm drain in my back garden one monsoony day; monkeys screaming in the forest canopy on an absolutely moonless night ... it's a long list and your post brought it all back, for which many thanks! Date Added: 10/10/2005
Gone Away Thanks, Ken - your kind comments are much appreciated. As for the poetry, how much money is there in it? ;) I think those of us who have known the world in some of its untamed areas are very privileged, Ken. I can remember reading books by people who had seen even wilder areas than I knew and feeling envious of them. The least we can do is make the upcoming generations envious of us now! :D Date Added: 10/10/2005
Scot Clive: First, I want to say I love the strength and quality of voice at the beginning of your essay. The image of the leopard outside the window, and your raised awareness in regard to its presence is quite vivid. You have done an excellent job of putting me in the room with you. The cough of the leopard is immediate and alarming. I not only sense danger, I feel it. I love the description of the landscape and the way you provide information about the leopard without being intrusive about it. But then something happens unexpectedly. The focus shifts from I to "We." "It was early in the morning and we were driving along a dirt road. . ." I want to know who the other person is, not in any great detail mind you, but just enough background information to help fill in the blanks. Background is important. It helps the reader understand the present events and also lend an air of reality to the events and people that are involved. Although the descriptions of the other animals are interesting, I am left wondering about the experience with the leopard. I want to know why the leopard became that one animal that made such a vivid impression and had such a lasting effect on you more so than the other animals. Find the leopard and let it shape the rest of your essay. Let it be the skeleton that carries the other information you introduce to its own conclusive ending. In the spirit of friendship, Scot Date Added: 11/10/2005
Gone Away Interesting stuff, Scot, and thank you for sharing it. To be honest, I don't put as much thought into these little blog posts as I should; to some extent this is justified because they form part of the developing story of the blog - there are other posts that relate and help to flesh out each succeeding post for regular readers. But you have pointed out a very important point: that, to a new reader, there is detail lacking that I am taking as read. I shall be more careful in future and ensure that each post can be read as a separate item, without dependence on previous posts! Which is a good opportunity for me to state quite clearly that I appreciate criticism just as much as praise. This is a new medium we're all wrestling here and it imposes new rules and standards that only become apparent with time. If we can accept criticism, we help all blog writers to finetune the art and approach closer to a position where we can seriously challenge the top blogs (who deal with ephemera). Thanks for that Scot! :) Date Added: 11/10/2005
Jodie When I was very young, I read a book by Gerald Durrell called "The Overloaded Ark"; it was about capturing animals in the wild for zoos...it was a book I liked so much that it eventually fell apart from all the times I read it. Although I've never been to Africa, that book made me long to go and see what it was like; at the same time, I knew it to be impossible to have experiences like that during any tourist trip. When I lived in Kansas, I had a two story house that overlooked a creek. One cold and snowy day, I looked out of the window and saw two bobcats playing on the frozen creek, slipping and sliding, batting each other, hiding and then leaping out in play. It is my favorite encounter with a wild animal. :) Date Added: 11/10/2005
Gone Away That's what I'm talking about, Jody! The point is that you don't have to be in Africa and it doesn't have to be some exotic animal (see my answer to Mad with the mention of a water rat in England!) for the moment to be special. It can happen anywhere. And I envy you your encounter with the bobcats - an animal I've never seen and I suspect few have. Gerald Durrell is the king of animal writers - funny and informative at the same time. His books are wonderful! :) Date Added: 11/10/2005
Ken Money? Not a lot. Date Added: 11/10/2005
Gone Away That's what I thought, Ken. ;) Date Added: 11/10/2005
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