When people go to Africa for the first time, they often speak of wanting to see the “Big Five.” Websites claim that if you travel with them, you will surely see the Big Five. It’s all about the “Big Five."
And there’s not a bird on the list!
I didn’t want to see the Big Five on my first trip. I wanted to see everything from the tiniest insect right up to the giants that walk the earth.
The term Big Five is a holdover from the colonial days when safaris meant guns and dead animals, and the Big Five were the most dangerous animals a hunter could stalk. Nowadays, most of those hunts are “canned,” meaning that the animal a hunter MAY shoot is pre-selected and most likely is one its owner selected to be culled. This does not occur in all countries, as the country owns the animals in most places.
Today, the Big Five remain as dangerous as they were years ago. They are the elephant, lion, leopard, rhinoceros, and the Cape buffalo. These animals, together with the Nile crocodile and hippopotamus, kill hundreds of people every year in Africa. Tourists are not exempt.
Actually, the malarial mosquito kills more than all of the mammals, and snakes mark up a number, too. The mammoth Nile crocodiles are an extreme danger to everything, including humans.
Anyway, late one afternoon, we’re slowly making our way down the Chobe River in the photo boat from Pangolin Photo Safaris, and the boat driver pulls over to shore so we can watch some bird action. I’m focused on an African spoonbill that has caught something and is running away from the other birds. In two seconds, a gray heron has stolen the fish from the spoonbill.
I am peripherally aware of one of the more cantankerous beasts in the Big Five—the Cape Buffalo. Massive, unpredictable, and usually in a bad mood when people are around, a buffalo watches the action I’ve been photographing.
Or so I thought.
The buffalo has its eyes on a Nile crocodile that has decided to go on an overland walkabout.
Mr. Grumpy Pants, perhaps remembering that some of his kin that might have been taken by crocs when an innocent calf was drinking, would have none of whatever the croc was up to. Land was the buffalo’s territory; water was the crocodile’s territory. The buffalo decides to rid the land of reptiles such as the huge, long-tailed beast now walking along, minding its own business.
The bull approaches and circles and waits for its chance to hook the croc with one of its sharp horns. The croc defends itself by opening its mouth and displaying an enormous amount of sharp, unforgiving teeth.
Undeterred, the buffalo continues to spar, feint, circle, and get its horns dangerously close to all that dentine. Undeterred, the croc does the same, except it doesn’t have horns, but more than five dozen sharp teeth. Unfairly, I think, it can also grow new teeth if any are lost or damaged.
Occasionally, the battle pauses as the buffalo looks toward a couple of its herd buddies nearby, as if to beseech their aid in ridding the plains of this scaly menace. One buffalo is lounging in a watery bog. Another is asleep on the grass.
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| Pretending to sleep but one eye is open. |
Someone with an overactive imagination might claim that neither of the herd-mates ventures a look toward their fighting buddy, and instead intentionally look in any direction other than the warrior. Except the one that is asleep, of course, unless buffalo sleep with one eye open, which, as ornery as they are, is not at all far-fetched.
The battle continues. The buffalo seems to call a detente, walks away, and the croc continues on its walkabout.
Not so fast, the buffalo decides, and the battle is engaged again.
I watch and press the shutter in stunned disbelief. I’m reasonably sure everyone else in the two boats did also. Our guide remarked that he'd never seen this before.
But then, I do have an overactive imagination.
***
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| Coppery-yailed coucal. |
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| Squacco heron |
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| Black-headed heron. |
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| Gray-headed heron |
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| Purple heron |
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| Waterbucks graze as the sun sets on the Chobe River. |
