The 2025 Botswana Journals, Ch. 43: Drama in the Riverbed

    This is our last full day at Mashatu Game Reserve before we head for home, and already the sun is setting.

    I am very sorry this wonderful trip is coming to a conclusion.   I wish I could stay here forever and ever.   Or at least, the foreseeable future.   I'm getting low on memory cards for the cameras, though, and I refuse to download the photos onto my little travel computer or an external drive, and then format the cards I'm using.   That's what everyone else does, but I'm not confident enough in my tech skills and am afraid I will lose all the photos.

    I bring home the cards with all the photos still on them, even though they are also copied to another external drive.   In fact, I still have the original memory cards with photos for every trip I've taken since I became interested in photography.   I sometimes need them to restore catalogues in my photo software.

    Anyway, we drop down into the riverbed.   It's in shade, and that's hard to expose for to get vibrant photos.   Everything looks blah.

    We come across this fellow sound asleep in the shade in the riverbed.

    We aren't going to get anything from him, other than a head raise to see what's there.

    He goes back to sleep, and we drive on.

    We find a leopard, also enjoying a snooze in the cool sand of the riverbed.   She, however, gets up, has a drink of water, and goes on a walk.

Video:   (Cell phones don't record well in the shade.)

    We watch as the leopard walks along the high riverbank.

Just an aside:   I asked Bashi if he had ever seen the river cut full of water.   He said he had, and that sometimes it overflows and floods adjacent land.   As for how fast it flowed, he said, "You would not dare put a boat in it."

    Suddenly, something ahead catches her attention.

    I look upstream and spot another leopard coming this way.

        The two leopards continue to converge.    The anxiety and tension among us are almost palpable.   I'm holding my breath.

    No one says a word.   We are all concentrating on the drama unfolding before us.

        The first leopard turns, and, crouching low and using some fallen branches for cover, moves out of the riverbed.

   

    Once the first leopard is out of sight, our guide moves up closer to the second leopard.   I'm hoping she doesn't catch the scent of the first leopard, but it is almost inevitable that she will.   The two are less than a hundred feet apart when the first leopard disappears.

    Someone, maybe me, asks what would happen if the two leopards meet.  The guide says, "They will fight."   He says the first leopard is the daughter of the second leopard, but that means nothing.   

    Leopards are solitary animals and very territorial, though young females often establish their own territory adjacent to their mother's.

The "blah" of photographing animals in the shade.

    Here, the second leopard enters an area where the late sun penetrates the river bottom.

      She walks right toward us.

    And passes in front of one vehicle.    Our tension is still high, but somewhat abated by the disappearance of the first leopard.    That won't matter if the second leopard comes across the first's tracks.

    To my dismay, the leopard goes up the bank.  Perhaps she has the scent of the first, after all.  

    Our guide hurries to find a trail leading up the riverbank and then searches for either of the two leopards in the riverine forest.   We can't find either of them.

    We compare notes with each other and agree that this event has all the tension of a well-wrought movie scene.   Except, it was real.

    The river bottom before we leave it.

    The sun has almost set, and it's time to head back to camp for our final night at Mashatu Lodge.

A Brief Intermission: Behemoth's Plight

 This time of year is known in tourism as the shoulder season, as is late autumn.   They are the before and after of tourist season.

Behemoth, my Ford F-150 pickup, might be excused his confusion, as he is being asked to shoulder (how'd ya like that pun, huh?) both firewood season and litter clean-up.   The implements of both are in his truck bed, ready for implementation at any time.

Except today.  New snow on the ground and light rain have dispelled any thought of going out to pick up beer bottles and diapers.

My 20th year of cleaning up litter along 44 miles of the Seward Highway, including all the pullouts, began yesterday, Saturday.   I spent three hours just cleaning up the pullout at Tern Lake.

That's where I always begin, because the snow melts the fastest there.

Three bags and the implements.

Another view. 

All done.    There's a lot more pullout behind the camera, too.

Three hours to fill three bags!   But, that included raking up all the cigarette butts, toilet paper, and dog/human droppings.   That takes a lot of time.

The 2025 Botswana Journals are nearing their end.   Just a few more chapters at most.

Most of my time from now until snowfall in the fall will be devoted to litter.    Endless litter: unpaid job security.

The 2025 Botswana Journals, Ch. 42: Elephant Behavior: The Vigilent Aunties

     On our morning game drive in Mashatu Game Reserve, we come across a small elephant herd casually ripping branches off the bushes.

    Some, like the elephant in the video below, just eat the prime part without damaging the branch.   Well, very much, anyway.

    Then we see the tiny, very young baby, and that explains every bit of what the elephants did in the next few minutes.   In this photo, they have come close to the baby to protect it.

This calf is very young.

        One elephant tries to stay between the baby and us, but I managed to get a couple of shots of it in the open.

    Like us, they are heading into the river bottom.   We stop at the top of the access trail and wait, because elephants always have the right-of-way.

    The largest elephant, the one leading the way, and the one I assume is the mother of the calf, stops to look at us.   She doesn't quite give a warning, but her flared ears signal to us to keep our distance.   However, elephants also flare and flap with large ears to cool off.   There are many blood vessels in the ears, and the flapping-and-flaring cools much like a car's radiator.

    One of the smaller elephants, probably an auntie, has a different opinion, and it definitely signals a warning.   First, by reaching out its trunk and smelling us.

Then, the ear flares and the head wags.   Definitely a warning.

 

    Still signaling, it turns to follow the others into the river bottom.

 

    As we drive down the slope behind them, one of the aunties trumpets, and suddenly,  all the elephants surround the baby.

    We drive a little distance away from them, and everyone relaxes.

    The elephants have come for water.

    How near we are to the baby is no longer a concern, and it is out in the open with no elephant intervening.

Mum and calf.

A cool video shot into the sun with my cell phone.

    And there you have a primer on how elephants protect their young.

And away they go, baby and all.

Some Extras:

A small flock of red-billed teals. LIFER

Another LIFER:   

Painted snipe!!!

Can you see them?

So lucky the female decided to stretch right in front of me!!!

White-beasted cormorants

A Kori bustard

Sleeping leopard in a tree.

A steenbok, one of the dwarf antelope.

Whoa ho!   A glimpse of an eland, the largest antelope in Africa.   We've been on the lookout for them because we heard there was a large herd in this area.

The 2025 Botswana Journals, Ch. 41: The Lions

 

    I arrive at the appointed place in the lodge where we gather before each game drive.  There is no one there, not even Marg, who is always early, so either I'm the first, or I'm late, and everyone has gone without me.   (How dare they!)

    It turns out that I'm early, and the rest of the group soon shows up.   It's still dark, but we don't need security escorts because Bashi has scouted out the area around our rooms to make sure there aren't any critters about that might cause a problem.

    A nice sunrise appears as we leave camp.

    Down in the riverbed where the lioness with cubs is, we find what I assume is the alpha male of the pride.   He's sound asleep.

    Our arrival interrupts his lion dreams.

    He sniffs the ground....

...and exhibits what is called the Flehman response*.   It is, in effect, a urinalysis of the female's urine that tells the lion many things.   For an explanation with diagrams,  see this link:

 https://www.petmd.com/cat/general-health/cat-sneering-what-flehmen-response

        The lioness and cubs are enjoying the sunrise above the riverbed.

    A three-photo mini-story:

"Momma, are you sleeping?"

 

"Mom!   Wake up!"

 

"I just needed a nuzzle, Mom."

*FYI:   The Flehman response is not limited to lions only. According to AI:

• Equids: Horses, zebras, and donkeys frequently use this to identify the reproductive status of others.
• Felids: Domestic cats, tigers, and lions use it to analyze scents, often after sniffing urine or markings
  .
Ungulates: Goats, sheep, giraffes, giraffes, buffalo, and elk, particularly males, use this during the mating season.
Other Mammals: Elephants, llamas, camels, and tapirs are known to display this behavior. 

  

  A curious note:  Rhinos establish a latrine area  called a midden, which can grow, with repeated usage, to 10 or 12 feet in diameter.  Many rhinos use the same spot, with the middle reserved for the alpha male.   It is the social media center for the rhinos and the scents there provide much the same info as exhibited by the Flehman actions.

    Aren't you glad you read all the way to the end of this chapter?

    With that sweet thought, it's on to the next chapter.   It's about hysterical elephant aunties.