The 2025 Botswana Journals, Ch. 24: The Conundrum of Too Many Photos

(Remember:   Click on one photo and a film strip will come that allows full-screen viewing of photos only.)        

What a conundrum I face as I try to adequately tell you about November 9^th at Mashatu Game Reserve.

        No, not “tell.”   “Show.”  The golden rule of writing is the axiomatic “show, don’t tell.” 

        Well, while going through the photos from our morning game drive, I selected 91 photos and four videos for the period from 5 AM until we returned to Tuli Lodge for lunch.

        That isn’t going to work.  It’s too much for one chapter.   I decided that henceforth, Nov. 9 will be divided into three chapters, with two concentrating on specific animals—lions and elephants.   And that's just for the morning!

        So, we begin at 5 AM today as we pull out of camp into the most beautiful and vivid sunrise I’ve seen yet.

        And the resident hornbills are there to greet the day with us.   These three photos were taken shortly after 5 AM.

These birds look large, but they are the smallest too the hornbills, about 17 inches long and not weighing even a pound.   Compare that to the Alaskan common raven, which is about 2.5 lbs., and up to 27 inches long.

        By 6 AM, we are in the company of a pride of flat cats.  The lions are all stretched out, bellies like volley balls, sated after eating a zebra.   

        There is a dining hierarchy in lion prides.  The male ALWAYS eats first.   Since the male can consume 88 lbs. of meat from a kill, that can be problematic for the other lions in the pride.

One of the younger cubs.

  

        Then, the adult females eat, and then the cubs.   I have witnessed this often in my travels in Africa.  

 

                Of course, if the alpha male isn’t around when females take down an animal, the females eat first, then the cubs.  

        If Big Daddy shows up after the females have done the hard part, he takes over, and the others wait their turns.  He might allow the adult females to join him eventually, and later, he will stay around to guard what’s left of the kill.

         That is the point at which they were when we joined the pride.

Video of the lions at the kill and Big Daddy guarding it.   Cell phone video in early morning so the color is a bit off.

        The youngest cubs are chewing on bones, trying to get the last morsels of meat.   Big Daddy is right next to the kill, as is one adult lioness.   Big Daddy is quite alert and looking in the direction of several sub-adult lions in some bushes.

 

 

Note the sub-adult cubs watching from a distance.

        The alpha male gets distracted by a scent from the lioness.

        

        

        NO!! She snarls,  and "go away!"

        Below, in three photos, the lion exhibits the Flehman response, in which a scent is a form of chemical communication.   The scent is drawn through the mouth, lips curled,  to an olfactory scent organ. Many animals react to urine and other scents to determine if another is ready for mating, as well as other indicators, such as territorial markings.

Be sure to look at the photo below in full screen to see the lion's expression.

        With a "NO" from the lioness, he marks his territory.

        A little close- up of lion anatomy.  Yes, they pee and spray backwards.

Testicles and the penile sheath.   That's ho0w they can pee and spray backwards.  You always wanted to know that, right?  Or is it TMI?

        Lazing about, but with a watchful eye on the sub-adults.

Sub-adults making a move?   Or just changing positions?

        Look out, youngster!! 

                Big Daddy sees what the youngsters are doing.   And decides to reassert his authority.

        Now that he's reminded the sub-adults of the hierarchy,  the alpha male returns to guard what's left of the kill, and marks his territory again.

        The next day, someone sees one of the sub-adult cubs looking like it had been in a scuffle.   It was pretty beat and limping.

I have no idea why Marg doesn't have a camera in her hands.

   I thought about the lion encounter for a long time and came up with a theory that I shared with Bashi, and he agreed that my thoughts were very likely what happened.

        My theory:   Based on the belly sizes, I figured the lionesses brought down the zebra and then ate,  with or followed by the sub-adults, and then the young cubs.

        Somewhere along the line, before the sub-adults had eaten very much, the alpha male showed up and ran everyone away until he'd eaten his fill.   The youngest cubs were then allowed back to the kill, but the sub-adult males were not.

        Most likely, and Bashi agreed, the sub-adult males would be run off soon and not allowed back in the pride because they are almost mature.   The males will form a coalition and seek to get their own pride.   They might even fight Big Daddy for this pride, or find another pride to take over.

            The females will stay with the pride.

        If and when this happens, all the cubs from this pride or another are in danger of being killed.

We drive about 15 minutes away and stop for the morning tea break.

The 2025 Botswana Journals, Ch. 23: Goofy Zebra, Eye-Level Giraffes, and a Braai

(Remember:  You can see the photos full screen by clicking on one.  It will bring up a filmstrip.)

        Late afternoon, and we are off on our game drive, with Bashi as our guide and driver.   The other half of our group is going to the Lala Limpopo overnight hide, and I hope they have more luck than we did.

        

        Almost first thing out of camp, I find myself looking straight into the eyes of a giraffe.   Not looking up, just straight and horizontal.   Not often that happens.

        Bashi drives around some bushes and into the dry stream bed.   The giraffes are nibbling from the top and from the bottom.

        A peanut gallery of chacma baboons watches from on high.   

        And then!!   Today's drama.   These zebra are playing, Bashi says, but it could get serious if it goes on much longer.

 

Note the little impala, completely serene, in the left foreground.

        Okay, I don't think kicking another zebra in the teeth counts as play.!

        A final lookback and the zebra wander off, apparently still friends.

        Suddenly, we are on a Ferrari Safari!   When something great is spotted, we rush cross-country to it.   Hang onto your hats and cameras!

The leopard known as Mohoyo

        We spend a lot of time with Mohoyo, and evening draws nigh,   I look around and like the cloud formations.   The leopard is at lower right.

        Mohoyo moves to a different location.   We follow.

    It's getting very late, and night is fast approaching.   I wonder why we are still out and not heading back to camp, but I'm enjoying the sunset.

The wonderfully enchanting baobab tree.

        Now it is dark, and our spotter shines a spotlight on the surroundings, in search of the night critters.   

Video :

        I have no photos, but we see springhare, a genet, and BEST OF ALL, an African wild cat.   A LIFER FOR ME!

        Seeing an African wildcat is considered insanely rare.   They are nocturnal, elusive, and their numbers are scarce.   In size, they are somewhat larger than a domestic cat.

        This is a photo I borrowed from the Internet.

        I don't know what I was trying to capture here, but this gives you an idea of what it's like.

        I don't know how to explain what happened next, except to say that everyone else seemed to know something I didn't.   Remember, I came late to this trip after a lady had to cancel, so I guess it was discussed before I joined the pre-trip conversations.

        On the other hand, sometimes they will throw in surprises.

        The vehicle stops, and the others start getting out.   Assuming we were back at the camp, though things looked a bit different, I hand my heavy camera down to someone.

        "You can leave it.   You don't need it,"  that someone said.    I'm confused.   What?   I wasn't going to leave my expensive camera in the safari vehicle overnight!!!

        I get out, holding onto my camera bag.   "No, you don't need it.   Leave it all in the truck."

        Then I look around.    Oh, my.   An outdoor dinner.   It's called a braai in the southern part of Africa, and it was spectacular.   What we call a barbecue, they call a braii.

 

The beverage bar.

Getting the fire ready.

There are kettles sitting on four-legged stands over some hot coals.   Kettles like Dutch Ovens.

Sausage, chicken, steak, corn on the cob!

Our table.

Shelly, left, Virginia, and Bashi.   The tea candles in paper bags are a nice touch.

                        Cory, Shelly, Virginia, Bashi, and Randy.

        And would you look at this!!!   We are dining next to a baobab tree, and it is in bloom!  It blooms only once a year, and always at night. By morning, the flowers have faded and turned brown.

From the Internet:    Baobab trees bloom, producing large, white, crinkled flowers that typically open at night and last for only about 15 to 24 hours. These flowers bloom annually, usually at the end of the dry season, and are primarily pollinated by fruit bats, moths, and sometimes mouse lemurs. 

What a special occasion Tuli Lodge arranged for us.

My plate:

My plate.   The largest piece in upper right is a chicken thigh.    That was enough for me, but the servers couldn't believe I didn't want sausage (2 inch piece) and a piece of steak to the left of the chicken.   (Uh, steak is very tough in Botswana.).  Then, a wee bit of salad, lovely creamed spinach, a bit of pap*, and 2 baked potato slices.   I would have been content with just the chicken and more spinach!

*Pap:   A staple food in African countries, pap is made from ground maize with water and salt.   It resembles porridge or polenta, but stiffer.   Africans often take a couple of fingerfuls of pap and use it to scoop up any stew-like food.

THE OBLIGATORY BIRDS!

Here are two very, very bad photos.  I did what I could with them, but they are hopeless.   They are also LIFERS, so here's the proof.

Green-backed hoopoe.

Marisco flycatcher