Kevin is back with the black leopards for another attempt at moving them around the sanctuary. Will Kevin be successful or will they prove too stubborn once again? It's all part of the fun.
The Kevin Richardson Wildlife Sanctuary's mission is to provide a self-sustaining African carnivore sanctuary for the purposes of wild species preservation through education, awareness and funding, especially pertaining to the rapid decline of large carnivores in Africa due to habitat loss, human-predator conflict, unscrupulous hunting, disease and their illegal trade.
To raise awareness, Kevin has now set up his YouTube Channel 'LionWhispererTV'. The channel is all about raising awareness about not only the declining numbers of lions, but also how this rapid decrease is happening. By watching these videos, you are directly contributing to our scheme of land acquisition.
Kevin captures the majority of his footage on GoPro cameras, allowing the viewer to get as close as possible to the lions.
By doing this, Kevin hopes to give people an insight into the lives of these beautiful creatures and to let them see just what they can do to help. You can nearly touch them.
A young pride of lions learns how to survive by important lessons taught by their mother.
There are two phenomenal beasts that rule one of Africa's true wilderness areas, buffalos and lions. The first dominate the plains with bulk, power and aggression, the latter rule by fear and tenacity. Hunting lessons are not what you might expect. Instead of ambushing their prey and quickly despatching with a clean bite to the throat, these lions wrestle their victim to the ground and tuck in before the hapless beast is dead, meaning a slow and painful death. Are these lions behaving badly, or is it simply that this is what lions do?
Wildlife is flourishing in the exclusion zone around the Chernobyl nuclear plant, scientists have discovered. Experts have found that removing humans from the area, which was devastated by radioactive blast in 1986, have allowed animals to return in large numbers. A detailed survey of the forested area around the plant in the Ukraine has revealed that it is teeming with large animals such as elk, deer, wild boar and wolves despite being contaminated with radioactive fallout. “It’s very likely that wildlife numbers at Chernobyl are much higher than they were before the accident,” Professor Jim Smith of Portsmouth University told the Independent. “This doesn’t mean radiation is good for wildlife, just that the effects of human habitation, including hunting, farming and forestry, are a lot worse. ”The exclusion zone has developed as well as a heavily-protected nature reserves, scientists said.
The population of wolves in the exclusion zone was also found to be about seven times higher than other nature reserves in the region, they said. “These unique data showing a wide range of animals thriving within miles of a major nuclear accident illustrate the resilience of wildlife populations when freed from the pressures of human habitation,” said Jim Beasley of the University of Georgia. The team of researchers published their findings in the journal Current Biology. The radiation released after the accident sent plumes of radioactive emissions across much of northern Europe, causing radiation “hot spots” within the exclusion zone. Following the disaster, more than 116,000 local residents were evacuated from the zone around Chernobyl, which covers 1,622 square miles. Only key construction workers and nuclear staff were allowed into the site to safeguard the stricken reactors. The researchers used a combination of field surveys and computer models to estimate the density of animal numbers throughout the exclusion zone. “These results demonstrate for the first time that, regardless of potential radiation effects on individual animals, the Chernobyl exclusion zone supports an abundant mammal community after nearly three decades of chronic radiation exposure,” the researchers concluded.
The views are fabulous, these mountains and the desert out here. There's just nothing else like it in the state. To just be able to get out and not have to worry with traffic or phone calls or any other of your life's problems, to get out in the desert here on one of these mountain peaks, it's just, wow, pretty neat. My name is Scott Lerich. I'm a Wildlife Biologis there at Elephant Mountain Wildlife Management Area. I'm very lucky to be able to not only work here but also live here. And it's literally the chance of a lifetime for a wildlife biologist. We're out in the Big Bend country, the Trans-Pecos, 26 miles south of Alpine, about 400 miles west of Austin. I do just about anything that needs to be done, but also I'm responsible for conducting the baseline inventories on the property, which entails monitoring all the animal and plant life and I prefer to work out here in this Chihuahuan desert country. I never have a traffic jam to worry about. I actually sit on my front porch with my spotting scope and watch bighorns on the mountain. In the evenings it's just wonderful. This is great. This state's full of some amazing places but this is my favorite spot, the mountains of the Trans-Pecos. And in Texas that's the only spot you'll find Bighorn Sheep in their natural environment.
Always amazing how magnificent these animals are. They make leaps and jumps that no other animals can do. They'll stand up there on the rocks. It's just. . . an amazing site. I wish everybody could see them. One of the different things we do in this part of the state is trap and transport desert bighorn into new habitats. The original herd of bighorns was brought here in 1987. We had 20 that were released here. And in the last few years those number have reached over 100 animals. We're gonna get ready to transplant off Elephant Mountain to Black Gap Wildlife Management Area about 45 sheep. To be able to see one of these animals in their native habitat is a tremendous feeling. And to know they're out there on the landscape again where they roamed 100 years ago. The desert bighorn are our most visible, publicized spec is of wildlife here. They are looked after in detail. Because of the help of organizations like the Texas Bighorn Society, private landowners, many, many biologists that came before me, the State of Nevada, We have more desert bighorn in Texas today than we did 100 years ago. It's been an incredible success story. The helicopter lands at the headquarters with their load of sheep and when the dust clears a little bit, volunteers equipped with goggles for eye protection rush up and unload the sheep from the helicopter.
Few people get a chance to run up to a helicopter that's running and that's exciting enough. And you grab this animal that's restrained, you literally have the life of that animal in your hands. It's just a tremendous experience. The animals are typically breathing fairly easily and calmly but you can still feel that animal's life in your arms. The breathing of that animal, it's physically making contact with your arms and it's just a tremendous feeling, unlike anything you can imagine. The animals are brought to the processing stations, examined by biologists and a veterinarian, and as they are being processed temperatures are being taken the entire time. If it goes too high, it's a sign of stress. We're going to place radio transmitting collars on all the animals. They'll be joining other sheep. They seem to be very calm when they're in the trailer like that. We're real lucky in this fact that Black Gap is only a short distance away from Elephant Mountain. As the crow flies, it's a very short distance. However the main route to drive there is about 120 miles. But the entire drive will take less than 2. 5 hours so the sheep are not in the trailer very long. When we get to Black Gap, we're gonna go to the predetermined location where they'll be released and we're going to turn the trailers around and open the gates. There they go! That's outstanding to see these sheep in a new range get them reestablished down here again. This is fabulous. It's-- this is the one of the greatest things about wildlife management and it's a good feeling for wildlife biologist to be involved in something like this. This is outstanding. Hopefully even if you never get a chance to see them you will have an appreciation for the fact that they are actually here again. We're doing the best we can manage the habitat and wildlife species here at Elephant Mountain and because of that we see animals like the desert bighorn thriving here. I'm very lucky to be able to live and work on this property. It's a wonderful place and it's literally a chance of a lifetime for a wildlife biologist.
I absolutely love being outdoors, getting to study new species [group of animals] all the time. Learning about how they affect the ecology [animals and their surroundings] of an environment [where the animals live] is fascinating to me. Conservation really means protecting wildlife and when I say wildlife, I’m not just referring to animals, but I’m talking about animals, plants and their habitat [where the animal slive] so that our future generations can enjoy the wonderful landscapes and scenery that we can today.
The U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service Refuge System is actually the largest set of land and water, put together specifically for the protection of wildlife, including endangered species [animals at risk of dying out]. We have about 564 as of today, but we’re constantly growing. So I had experiences at Maine Coastal Islands National Wildlife Refuge studying puffins. I later went to Umbagog National Wildlife Refuge in New Hampshire monitoring loon [duck] populations and moose populations. I had the experience of working at Black water National Wildlife Refuge studying an endangered species [animals of risk of dying out] which will now be delisted [removed from the endangered species list] soon, called the Delmarva fox squirrel. And they’re these big over-sized squirrels that seemed to be getting hit by cars a lot because they’re so slow and sluggish. Most squirrels go tree to tree to tree. Well, these guys are so slow, that they come down the tree, go on the ground, all the way up the tree, down the tree and again. So but their populations are coming back now.
Everyone that’s a wildlife biologist typically does it because the love being outside; they love being outdoors. But when you collect all that data [information collected] and all that information, there’s a time when you have to be in the office to kind of analyze [study and examine] everything to see what the trends [a direction of something changing]are, to see what the [animal] populations are doing. And that is very important data and very important things to do. I would say the most important thing that kids can do to protect wildlife is to be knowledgeable. To share that information with their classmates, to explore the outdoors, whether that be a small patch in their backyard or a bush or at a park or at a national wildlife refuge,like where we’re at now, at Patuxent National Wildlife Refuge. To get out and explore, make observations [watch something carefully] or your own and do your own biology in your own backyard. Narrator: You can also see Chelsea in Conservation Connect. In each episode, you’ll learn about different careers, wildlife animals and technology used to protect those animals. Visit nctc. fws. gov/conservationconnect/Find a National Wildlife Refuge in your state at www. fws. gov/refuges/And discover more exciting careers at Kids.
Mirages summon up strange liquid illusions here on a vast dry lake bed that has been called "the place of dry water. "This is a region named Etosha in southwestern Africa. For most of the year it may go without a drop of rain. And in these times, Etosha's water holes become like open-air stages. Here, as perhaps nowhere else, the wildlife of Africa may be intimately observed. Much of the Etosha region is grassy plain and bush, and in its center lies the Etosha Pana vast lake bed which is totally dry for most of the year. Some 2,000 square miles in area, this great expanse of clay is one of the most barren landscapes on Earth. But this is a place of illusion and paradox. Because here in Namibia in southwestern Africa, the Etosha Pan is surrounded by one of the most spectacular displays of wildlife remaining on the continent for underground reservoirs feed permanent water holes along the edge of the pan and on the plains beyond, sustaining great numbers of animals the year round. Our year in Etosha begins as the long dry season comes to an end. The pan is baked and windswept, and a dusty haze fills the air. But at last, one day, great clouds and shafts of cooling rain sweep across the plains. Water begins to fill the pan, flowing into this natural depression from all directions. As the rains continue for about three months, A huge lake gradually forms. Suddenly, millions of catfish appear in the lake. They have been spawned by adults that have somehow survived the dry season buried deep in the mud. But now these young fish become a feast for egrets and herons. The rains transform Etosha. The pan is now a vast, shallow lake, fifty miles across but barely two feet deep. Rising water soaks the grassy plains along the edges of the pan. A lush new season is announced by a chorus of giant bullfrogs calling females to mate. The bullfrog males gather together on their mating grounds. Here they attack each other, fighting savagely for the opportunity to mate. This is something new for these young lions. The small female bullfrogs take the initiative when it comes to mating. Now two females vie for the attention of a male. Hundreds of eggs are released by the female and fertilized by the male. Soon vast numbers of tadpoles swarm in the shallows around the pan. Most frog species have abandoned their young by this time, But the male giant bullfrog is fiercely protective. He vigorously defends them against predators like the monitor lizard. A blaze of fresh color sweeps over the plains of Etosha. Many animals find sufficient moisture in the succulent new growth they're feasting on. Now the water holes appear abandoned and deceptively peaceful. But turtle doves do come to drink every morning and evening. These two are unwary intent on their courtship. The victim is overwhelmed by hungry turtles and it's soon over. Playing and foraging, but ever alert, ground squirrels rarely stray far from the safety of their burrows. Like most animals here, the squirrels have their young in this bountiful rainy season. On the plains, a wildebeest is giving birth. The calf's infancy passes before this day is over in just a few hours he'll be running with the herd. All across the plains newborn animals are first tasting life. Easy targets for predators, many will not live more than a few days. The zebra mother places herself between the cheetahs and her foal making good its escape. The rainy season is not a total blessing for the squirrels. They are plagued with fleas. The squirrels use their fluffy tails as sunshades. It's an unusual adaptation, helping them to forage in the hot sun. The cheetah mother has four large cubs to feed. They're almost a year old, but not yet skilled enough to hunt on their own.
The wildebeest mother is formidable. She confronts the cheetah and helps her frantic calf to its feet. An elusive animal of which little is known, a bat-eared fox tends her cubs. She'll collect insects for them to eat and keeps their fur clean by constant grooming. Baby springbuck is easy prey for the cheetahs. They can easily eat four of these small fawns in a day. In half an hour they'll be hunting again. Her large, sensitive ears enable the fox to detect even the faint sounds made by insects underground. This time she's found only a few termites. Although considered the fastest-running animal, cheetahs are hard-pressed to catch the swift springbok. Cheetahs are often frustrated unless they can gain the advantage of surprise. In this year of heavy rain and an abundant food supply Pelicans have come to nest on an island in the flooded pan. Here, their clumsy black chicks are safe from predators. Leaving the chicks, the adult pelicans often travel great distances to the nearest fishing grounds. Here, they join other birds in pursuit of catfish. The catfish has grown almost too big for this sacred ibis. After three months the rains diminish and the pan begins to dry. The surviving catfish is trapped in the shallows and picked off easily by the pelicans, lbis, and yellow-billed storks. Newly-hatched dabchick ride along on their mother's back when she leaves the nest. As the male dives for food, the dabchick mother tends her young and the unhatched eggs, which she carefully covers over when she's away from the nest. Now she shades the eggs and fans them vigorously guarding against the hot sun. Both adults must work constantly to keep up with the chicks' demands for food. The rains have ended now, and pools along the edges of the pan are fast evaporating. By the thousands, young bullfrogs emerge from the water. They have voracious appetites and eat everything in sight. Often there is no food, but one another many bullfrogs may reach maturity without eating anything but their own kind. For the frogs that escape each other, there are other enemies. This bush snake recognizes prey only when it moves. If the frogs remain still, they're safe. Through the rains, most animals of Etosha enjoyed a bountiful time. Strengthened and renewed, they are now prepared for the long, harsh season that lies ahead. As the plains dry, the rutting season begins. A wildebeest bull eagerly approaches a group of females. But the bull is not entirely welcome. Rival males will take full advantage when he drops his guard and attempts to mate. A male springbuck courts a female by gently touching her flanks. Only when ready will she allow him to mate. This is called "pronking. "Adult springbuck pronk after being chased by a predator, Perhaps as a signal to regroup the herd. But in these young, is seems simply a delightful form of play. Daily it's growing drier. The pan becomes a mire of soggy clay, and then hardens under the harsh Etosha sun. High and dry, the pelican colony is no longer an island and no longer a sanctuary. Jackals and hyenas raid each evening. The flightless young pelicans soon are scattered across the pan, many dead or dying. The new grass brought by the rains matures and dries. The great herds that have flourished here on their breeding ground snow move on in search of fresh grazing. Probably such migrations have continued for thousands of years triggered by the onset of the long dry season. Some herds will travel 100 miles and more. They must follow trails leading from one water hole to the next. And at the water holes wait the predators. . . A zebra herd is halted in sight of water by two resting lions. The lions have recently fed, but they will see that nothing drinks here today. They're old companions, and have hunted together for years. It would seem that nothing could come between them except, perhaps, a lioness. It's mostly noise and little damage is done.
The victor has established his right to the lioness. The loser seems to accept his lit in life, and is ill prepared when a second lioness comes on the scene. After three dry months the water holes become increasingly essential and perilous for the animals of EtoshaMore and more often, and more urgently they are impelled here to drink. Elephant are among the few animals that come fearlessly to water. These bull elephants normally keep to themselves. But occasionally they join up with a breeding herd of cows and calves like this one. When a very young calf is with the herd. Even elephant can be edgy. This calf is probably less than ten days old, and it seems the entire herd unites to protect it. Urdu are infinitely cautions when coming to drink. They are alert for the slightest scent or sound of danger. A powerful lioness in the prime of life is accompanied by her three cubs. Lions have a bad reputation as parents cubs are often neglected, or even savagely abused, Because of conflicts within the pride. But this lioness proves an attentive and careful mother, possibly because she has no female rivals and enjoys the attentions of the three male lions in the area. The cubs are only about four months old. And would be quite helpless on their own. They'll continue to rely on their mother for the next two years. A flock of quele as makes a hit and run raid on the water hole their safety lies in speed. The lioness has caught a young warthog for her cubs. Now she leads them to where she has left it. But there's a surprise in store for the cubs. The mother will not help. Inept as they are, they must learn how to kill. This is a rare and striking glimpse of how the means of survival are passed on in the wild. It's growing hotter and drier by the day. Though always aware of danger, animals are drawn more frequently to the water holes starting even in the cool of early morning. They can probably smell the lioness, but they're also thirsty. It's been six months now without a drop of rain. Flocks of guinea fowl scratching for seeds add to the choking haze that hangs over Etosha. It sometimes appears that the entire area is smoldering on the brink of bursting into flame. Now comes the time of the "light rains"showers that may fall in scattered spots across the plains. They're only a teasing foretaste of the real rainy season, still two or three months away. Soon after the light rains, acacia trees blossom. For kudu, giraffe, and other browsers, their fresh, new leaves offer some relief. But for other animals the scanty rains bring little benefit the plains are still brown and bone-dry. Now, the great grazing herds being to retrace their migration routes across the plains. By the time the rains begin in earnest, they will have found their way back to the same breeding grounds they occupied the year before. On the way, herds gather to drink at a water hole on the edge of the pan. And so it goes on as it has for millions of years. The ancient perpetual cycle of the seasons, the endless pursuit of predator and prey, of death and renewal. All will have come full circle as thunder echoes across Etosha and the rains come again at last.
In the north of Kenya, forgotten in a region which precedes the desert, lies a territory of enormous contrasts. It is the so-called Northern Frontier District, the geographical limit beyond which reign the laws of life in the wild. Here, man is an intruder and survival is determined by the water, the wind and the sun. In the heart of this unforgiving land stands the Shaba reserve, a place of biological endemisms a haven for wildlife at the edge of a blazing desert. Shaba is a place of extremes, constantly putting life to the test.
Severe droughts alternate with tremendous floods, turning the savannah into a hell which generates paradises a land of contrasts where the harsh rigors give rise to the most beautiful works of nature. In a land where life seems impossible, Shaba guards the treasure of its exclusive biodiversity in a paradox without precedent; as if the harshness of the environment was the reason for such richness; as if scarcity were, deep down, the creative force behind the development of life. The Danish writer Karen Blixen wrote:“Africa teaches you this: that God and the devil are one and the same”. And in the Kenya that she loved and immortalized in her novel Out of Africano other region demonstrates this to quite the same extent as Shaba. Wind, sun and dust; for three years, not a single drop of rain has fallen on the cracked lands of the Northern Frontier District. The plants that have managed to survive on the humidity and condensation carried by the wind rise stunted and tortured from the parched land. It is the heart of the kingdom of thorns of East Africa. The natives call this region Nyica, the wild, desolate region. But even in this time of prolonged drought life clings on in Shaba. In the cool of night, the herbivores appear in search of the drops of dew and the last shoots softened by the humidity. But thrice now the rainy season has failed to appear and vegetation is virtually non-existent. The darkness also tempts the carnivores out of their hiding places. Every day the drought claims more victims from among the exhausted animals, and the inhabitants of the shadows seek out the flesh and blood of the dead bodies in order to survive. As a demonstration of its split personality, at night a truce is declared in the unbearable drought of Shaba. The clear skies are lit with millions of stars stretching to infinity and a serene beauty engulfs the tortured savannah, turning it for a moment into a place of dreams, a mirage in the heart of the kingdom of thorns. It is the rainy season, but the dawn once more brings cloudless skies. One more day without water. During the early hours of the day, the animals take advantage of the lingering cool of the night to carry out their daily activities, before the heat makes all movement impossible. This group of elephants has found the last green patches along the slopes of a castle hill where the limestone rock has retained the water. The elephants move constantly in search of water and food, and now, with the plants parched and withered, they need to travel even longer distances to get the 200 kg of vegetable matter they consume every day. But, despite their incredible needs and the precarious situation of Shaba, the enormous pachyderms survive here while many other herbivores have had to choose between emigration or death. The old matriarchs know the secrets of the land, and their wisdom and prodigious memory enable the group to survive. Among the baboons, too, the family structure is the key making it possible for them to remain in Shaba even during the severest droughts.
While many species leave, the baboons remain, and even manage to raise their young. Their diet is so varied they will eat virtually anything,and among the dry grasses, the scorched stones and the tree bark, it is always possible to find bulbs, insects, small rodents or some reptile of the savannah. Each member of the family contributes to the survival of the group, tasks being shared out for the common good. They all work together in the search for food and water, they are all aware of the precarious situation in which they live; or almost all. For the youngest, life is a never-ending round of games and diversions. During the first weeks of life these small baboons have no obligations within the group and the drought doesn’t appear to affect them. Mother is always close by, ready with her milk,and they have a group of inseparable friends to play with,so for them the scorched savannah is a marvelous world full of adventures. Day after day, the clouds fail to appear. The desert seems to gradually eat into the savannahand the dust spirals up like desperate emissaries in search of rains that refuse to come. In the clear sky sinister spirals convey the message of death. Illness has defeated an elephant weakened by the lack of water and the precariousness of its diet. Its body is now scorched leather. The folds of its skin are like wrinkled mountains of a landscape tormented by the drought. Even the most powerful succumb to the power of the sun. Hundreds of butterflies gather round the body, licking the skin and the ground impregnated with the salts and nutrients of the decomposing elephant. In Shaba nothing goes to waste. Death generates life; the circle is complete. And again god and the devil appear by turns, becoming one. Finally, the clouds arrive, bringing hope. Huge cumuli form over the parched savannah and, three years late, finally release the long-awaited rain. The time of great changes arrives, and does so with the extremism characteristic of this remote region; violently and apparently without measure. The rains perform a miracle here at the edge of the desert. In a matter of hours new rivers appear, flowing across the savannah. It is the annual miracle of the lands of the Northern District, ephemeral water courses which remain only during the time of rain, but which leave beneath the ground the water reserves that will maintain life during the rest of the season. To the south the clouds release enormous quantities of waters over the Aberdare Mountains and Mount Kenya and shortly after arriving in Shaba in the form of violent floods. The only permanent river in the Shaba region again flows with force, carrying the sediments to which it owes its name: Ewaso Ngiro, the river of the brown waters. Green once more returns to the lands of Shaba. In just a few days it changes from a hell into paradise. Like the animals, the plants that survive the rigours of this region are true specialists in withstanding prolonged periods of drought and as soon as they receive water they immediately shoot up, taking the maximum advantage of the time of abundance. There is now water all around. Impalas and grived monkey slick the fresh leaves in order to obtain all the water they need. For a few days they will be able to avoid the risk inherent in going to drink at the exposed, clear banks of a river like the Ewaso Ngiro in which, moreover, there are crocodiles. Shortly after the first rains, from the ground of the savannahemerge winged emissaries which will mobilize an army of small hunters. With the humidity, the termites fly out from their underground homes, and their presence attracts the avid predators of miniatures. For many birds they are an invaluable source of protein.
Even those that generally feed on grains, like the turtledoves, take advantage of the easy pickings, competing with true specialists like the kalaos. The sun birds catch some termites, despite the fact their beaks are designed to sip the nectar from the flowers. It is so narrow they cannot swallow the termites with their wings still attached so, unlike the kalaos and other specialized birds, they have to remove them before they can eat. Among the mammals of Shaba, the appearance of the termites does not go unnoticed. For the dwarf mongooses, the best adapted to arid regions, these energetic insects form a considerable part of their diet, so even when the termites, no longer come out to fly, these small hunters armed with powerful claws for digging, are able to penetrate into their fortified homes and avail themselves of the feast. The rains completely change the landscape of Shaba. Not only do the plants turn green and multiply, but the scorched plains, where previously the only movement had been the wind, now teem with fauna a sight which just a few days before would have seemed impossible. The secretary birds are hunters adapted to the open savannah. Their long, thin legs may give the wrong impression. Because the secretary birds, despite their appearance, or birds of prey. In other words, they are great hunters. They will spend most of the day here, strutting elegantly along as they hunt in pairs. Attracted by the insects that have come out with the rains, a black kite joins in the feast. The kites are aerial hunters which from high up locate their prey with lethal precision. But on land they are clumsy and seem helpless compared to their relatives the secretary birds whose specialization has made them experts at hunting on the ground.
The diet of the secretary birds includes everything from small insects and birds to rodents and even some small felines; and this pair of timid bat-eared foxes prefers not to take any risks, and so make good their escape. In Shaba, all the animal species are adapted to the semi-desert climate. No one would be able to withstand the scarce seasonal rainfall if they were not real specialists in survival in arid climes. And among the different species guinea fowl that inhabit the continent of Africa, none can better cope with drought than the vulturines; and they, precisely, are the most abundant species in Shaba. The digestive system of the vulturine guinea fowl is specially adapted to conserve the maximum amount of water obtained from their food, so that even in the driest times on the thorny savannah, the vultures are able to survive on their diet of roots, bulbs, insects and molluscs, drinking virtually no water.
Among the zebras of Shaba are also those best adapted to arid climates: Grevy’s zebras. During the time of abundance that comes with the rains, Shaba fills with herbivores. The vegetation cover suffers the relentless attack of the animals, but the balance is maintained thanks to the adaptations that each one of them has developed in order to get at a layer of vegetation where they will have fewer competitors. Like the Grevy’s zebras, some seek the lowest pasture, at ground level. Others, however, have developed increasingly long necks to access the vegetation higher up. Among mammals too, some necks have become elongated. This is the next step: a gerenuk, a Somali word which means “giraffe neck”. The gerenuks are the gazelles best adapted to the desert conditions. Only the males have horns and this one, a dominant adult with seven females in his charge, take advantage of their grazing to mark the territory with his swollen facial glands. The gerenuks are the only gazelles that inhabits these sub-desert regions in the driest months. They can survive on the humidity contained in the shoots and the leaves of the savannah, and can go for months without drinking. But their adaptations do not end there. A flexible upper lip, a thin nose and narrow nostrils make it possible for them to eat among the thorns of bushes and acacias. And to avoid competition with other herbivores as much as possible they not only have their long, thin necks, but have also learnt a trick to reach the highest layers of vegetation. Only the gerenuks can stand on their hind legs to reach the branches above two metres high. The higher you can reach, the more food you can get at. And the gerenuks have made considerable progress in their stretch towards the tops of the bushes and trees of Shaba. But on the savannah even the height of the gerenuksis insignificant compared to the highest mammal in the world. At up to five and a half metres, the giraffes leave behind all other competitors, and can reach the tops of the acacias, where they find indispensable food reserves during the dry season. Of the eight subspecies of giraffe, the pattern of the reticulated giraffes makes them the most attractive. It is as if the rigors of this semi-desert savannah, the kingdom of thorns,had given rise to the most spectacular forms; as if beauty were the prize for the tests of survival imposed by the aridity of the environment.
The Grevy’s zebras, the vulturine guinea fowl, the reticulated giraffes…incomparable hides and plumages emerge from the thirst of many months, the scorching heat, and searching for food among the thorns. And once more Shaba unites extremes, as if hardship generated marvels, as if the limits of death were the creators of life, as if God and the devil were, in the final analysis, one and the same. With the arrival of the rains, the elephants once more return. Their four meters in height, along with the length of their trunks and their ability to stand on their hind legs means that not even the giraffes can reach so high in their search for food. The rains have again brought fertility to the savannah, attracting the herbivores that moved off in search of water during the months of drought. And with the arrival of the herbivores in Shaba, the powerful hunters also return. Though the new vegetation has refreshed the atmosphere, the central hours of the day are still unbearably hot. For the lions, this is the time to rest in the shade. It is too hot to even attempt the exhausting task of hunting down a herbivore, and even less if that herbivore is a powerful Cape buffalo. The herbivores know that during the hours of midday they are unlikely to suffer an attack, and are happy to simply keep the felinesunder surveillance, upwind. These young lionesses are also resting among the fresh green grass, though they never take their eyes off a group of zebras. If one of them shows signs of weakness or is wounded, the lionesses will not hesitate to attack, but the group is perfectly healthy, and the patterns of their bodies confuse the hunters, turning their silhouettes into a blur of moving stripes. During this time of abundance, the Grevy’s zebras are joined by the Burchell’s zebras, with which they form mixed herds. These zebras, more common in the rest of Africa, have thicker and more widely-separated stripes than the Grevy’s zebras, and during the dry season, when only those best adapted to drought can survive in Shaba, they leave these lands and head for the Aberdare mountains, where there is green pasture all year round. In this season, when the climate has changed, and there is food all around, the animals get ready to bring their young into the world. And during the weeks immediately after the first rains, the different species come into mate and breed. Among the Kori bustards, the males mark out their territories and begin a strange courtship ritual which consists of inflating air sacs on their necks while emitting a booming guttural sound. Their swollen necks and the dull sounds are intended to attract the attention of the females, while warning off other males who, as in this case, try to take over a territory which is someone else’s domain. Among the antelopes, only the dominant males can mate with the females, and occupy that position you have to beat the others in face-to-face combats,so hopeful males gather together in groups and permanently practice. These are not real fights. The young Grant’s gazelles are simply testing out their strength and keeping in shape until the time when they believe they are capable of challenging the ruler of a harem. And the process is the same with the impala males. Not far from where the young males are training, a dominant impala stands watch over his group of females; there is a possible challenger nearby, and it is time to make absolutely clear who is the strongest male. Under the watchful eye of the females, the males clash. But the conflict does not have serious consequences. After the initial confrontation, the challenger realises his time has not yet come and, before the combat turns serious, he retires uninjured.
Among the oryxes, the groups are mixed and highly structured. The horns and the strength of these antelopes mean that clashes are extremely risky exercises which could cause terrible injuries or even death. But in the groups of oryxes, where there is a clear hierarchy of males and females, the dominant position is decided by ritualised combats in which they test their strength but avoid serious aggression. In the herds, mating is also decided by the hierarchy. Each one knows what it can aspire to, depending on its status within the group, so in the same herd different couples can mate without thus creating any conflict among them. For the secretary birds, too, the mating season has arrived. The same couple that was looking for insects shortly after the first rains is now preparing its nest. Though both animals engage in this task, it is essentially the male that collects the branches, while the female arranges them on the flat top of an acacia, creating an enormous circular nest, characteristic of this species. During this time, the secretary birds are attentive and affectionate with their mates, courting them on the ground, in flight and in the nest. And shortly afterwards, in a way ornithologists have still not been able to describe, they mate, then lay no more than three, extremely valuable, eggs. In the same acacia forest in which the secretary birds have built their nest, a family of warthogs grazes on the nutritious green grasses that have grown since the rains. The little warthogs are only a few days old, but already they are expert savannah dwellers. They still lack the experience to be able to find food like their elders, but they have the mobile food store of their mothers and, though she doesn’t want to stop to feed them, the young warthogs are determined to get at the nutritious milk. Their only task during these first weeks will be to exercise in order to acquire the speed and strength which will enable them to flee from hunters. And they dedicate themselves to this in body and soul. Wrestling matches, or football with a pat of elephant dung form part of their training. Anything will do if it serves to make them faster and stronger. Because it will not be long before the savannah puts them to the test. In the shade of an acacia, a cheetah watches over a nearby group of oryxes. The oryxes are too strong for him, but at this time of year are always young calves, just a few days old, and it is one of these that the cheetah has his eye on. The calf appears to be perfectly healthy, and the possibilities of catching it are virtually nil, but the cheetah has been building up tension and decides to launch a desperate attempt. The oryx moves off unhurriedly, confident of its superiority, but without exposing its young to unnecessary risks. The cheetah has not even had the chance to test out its prodigious speed. There are many adults in the group and it knows that when it comes to defending its young, an oryx is capable of killing even a lion, so he abandons the attempt, and returns to his slow wanderings in search of more accessible prey. During the short rains, between December and February, there are frequent storms at nightfall. The climate mellows and the heat of the day gives way to fresh, humid air; the temperature the large hunters have been waiting for to go into action. The evenings and nights of Shaba are extraordinarily beautiful. But, ever loyal to its contrasts, they are also the time when death lurks in the dark. Night falls over the Ewaso Ngiro.
Along the dark banks, long shadows emerge from the water in search of the warmth of the sand heated up during the daytime hours. The metabolism of the Nile crocodiles depends on their body temperature, and this in turn depends on their surroundings, so at sunset the narrow shores of the Ewaso fill with these dragons. For the lionesses, the night is an advantage. Lions have eyes that can see in the dark. Under cover of the shadows, a mother and her young from the previous year lie in wait for the herbivores, guided by the sounds coming from the thicket. Tonight, they are not in luck. From the forest alongside the river three elephants emerge, and no hunter in Shaba would dare disturb them, so the lionesses lower their guard and rest, waiting for other signs that reveal the presence of possible prey. The rains have done their work. In mid January, Shaba is at its most splendid. There is abundant vegetation, water all around, and the savannah teems with hundreds of animals, taking advantage of the bonanza. The elephants have returned to the region and remain here longer. Different, inter-related matriarchal groups come together by the Ewaso Ngiro to enjoy the end of abstinence. Elephants need between 80 and 160 litres of water a day, and the adult males can drink twice this amount, so they must always have water sources available. The banks of the Ewaso Ngiro, whose waters are now high and stable, every day attracts large herds of pachyderms. The adults can drink and bathe, and the young can wallow in the mud, protected by a forest of colossal legs. These clans spend the dry season communicating with each other at great distances, but physically separated in order to more efficiently explore and utilise the land devastated by the drought. But now, Shaba is witness to their reunion and can enjoy the spectacle, once frequent in East Africa, of herds of over two hundred individuals. Today the region that comprises the reserves of Shaba, Samburu and Buffalo Springs is home to the largest herds of elephants in East Africa. And again, there is a paradox: this miracle of abundance in the kingdom of drought. The river bank is the meeting place for the majority of the species of Shaba. In the course of the day, many of the animals of the savannah come here to drink. And that is a risky moment, when they inevitably expose themselves to danger. With the heat of the sun, the large Nile crocodiles have returned to the water. On one of the banks, a group of Grevy’s zebras are slaking their thirst, and the appearance of a young colt attracts the great saurians. The crocodiles are silent in the current of the Ewaso, and when they submerge they become invisible. But the zebras are on permanent alert, and the shallowness of the river is a factor in their favour. A surprise attack is the crocodile’s only change of claiming a victim of the land along the Ewaso Ngiro. The baboons, too, who have remained in this region all year, thrive in the shade of the forest along the river banks. The dominant males never lower their guard. The hunters also know that sooner or later their prey will come to drink, and in the strip of forest there are frequent ambushes. The risk is worth it. Few carnivores would dare to challenge a family of baboons, and the candelabra palms that grow along the banks of the Ewasoare now heavy with fruit. So while the large males stand watch, the young climb up into the treetops and throw down the ripe fruit to the rest of the group. Another of the advantages of family life. Among the shadows of this same forest, just a short distance from the baboons, two Kirk’s dik-diks nervously keep watch as they eat. Standing two hands high, and weighing around five kilos, they are the smallest antelopes in Shaba, and even the large baboons could easily kill them, so they nervously graze, never wandering far from the protective undergrowth. The nervousness of the dik-diks is fully justified. Because the forest in which they live is the habitat of the most beautiful and elusive hunter in Shaba. The leopards spend most of the day hiding in the boughs of the acacia, where their mottled skin makes them invisible. But when the sun goes down, when the shadows creep over the savannah, they come down from the branches to begin their hunting rounds.
The time of the hunters has arrived. The animals retire to their night-time ride away. Life on the savannah offers no truces. And the night of Shaba fills with living shadows, prowling around in the eternal game of life and death. By the river, beneath the fallen trunk of an acacia, the leopard scans the night in search of prey. Its hearing and sense of smell receive the information about everything alive and moving about under the cover of night. Another leopard emerges from the shadows, and the couple continues its silent round. From the river come messages of potential prey, but the water and the crocodiles place them beyond their reach. Then, the male detects a furtive movement in a tree alongside the Ewaso Ngiro, and the hunt begins. The female waits at a certain distance. Only if the prey is large will she come to the aid of her companion. Silent as a ghost, the leopard approaches the base of the tree in which the prey hides. Its senses are alert, waiting for fresh signs. And then a new sound is heard. The leopard knows there is something alive in the tree, and that there is no escape from it. Beneath the branches runs a river full of dangers and to reach the ground the prey has to reveal itself. It is now just a question of time, and beneath the attentive gaze of his companion, the hunter gets ready to attack. A last, movement reveals a monitor lizard, provoking a reaction from the leopard. For the terrified lizard, this will be its last night on earth. Beneath the tree, the female waits, disappointed. The prey is small, and the male will keep it all for himself. In the harsh world of Shaba there is no place for any other attitude, but ensuring one’s own survival. And if it had been the female that had caught the monitor lizard, she would not have allowed the male to come near. Having devoured his catch, the males comes down from the tree to join his mate. And again two shadows melt into the night, combining beauty and death beneath the starry sky of Shaba. Shaba is a fascinating land beyond the influence of man; a world in which life is a series of stark contrasts; where hardship gives rise to beauty and survival imposes constant tests. And it is precisely the harshness of its conditions that makes this land a world apart, an exclusive paradise for its survivors. With the return of the dry season, Shaba goes back to the beginning. Little by little drought sets in. And again, God and the devil alternate until they become one and the same, with no beginning or end, in the perpetual cycle of life.
