Interpretation: Don’t expect much from the waterhole hides, as there is water elsewhere for wildlife. Botswana had months of rain before we arrived.
Well, rats, I think. But I soon find out that “water in the rivers” doesn’t mean flowing streams. Instead, I find only isolated pools of water and drivable riverbeds. They soon become my favorite parts of Mashatu Game Reserve.
Meanwhile, we are once again at the Lala Limpopo overnight hide, waiting for the talent to show.
A black-backed jackal is the first. We watch as it approaches one of the lights Aubrey set out to illuminate the waterhole. The jackal is snapping at insects in the light. It reminds me of driving through a downpour in Kenya and seeing a jackal jumping and snapping at something as the raindrops bounced off the dirt.
"Termites," said our guide. "They come out of the ground when the rain seeps in." That was when I learned that insects make up a large proportion of a jackal's diet.
Finally, near midnight, a jackal approaches to drink.
Then, a spotted hyena.
I go back to bed, but I'm soon awakened when the big guys show up.
A small herd of wildebeest arrives to slake their thirst.
I go back to bed and am not awakened until it's time for breakfast.
We have things to do today. We are leaving Tuli Lodge and heading deeper into the Mashatu Game Reserve to the main lodge, Mashatu itself.
(Click on one photo to bring up a film strip that will allow full-screen viewing.)
It's late on the afternoon of Nov 9, and we are in the vicinity of the Lala Limpopo overnight guide, where we are scheduled to stay the night and, hopefully, photograph animals and birds at the waterhole. If they come to the waterhole, that is.
A tree that caught my eye.
Rather than head straight to the hide, we ask if we can have a game drive on the way, and our guide is agreeable. The sky is mostly overcast, and so the temperatures are reasonable for Africa. That has the effect of decreasing the wildlife at the waterholes.
Plus, the fact that Botswana had heavy rains for the couple of months preceding our safari, also means there are plenty of water sources available for the wildlife, and they don't have to rely on the man-made waterholes at the various hides.
Hence, our game drive.
Lest you think we are driving along a nice paved road, here's a short video of our vehicle crossing a small wash. This is typical of the remote reserves and parks. Few have paved roads. Kruger Park in South Africa is the only one I know of.
Remember this, as it will be referenced in a future chapter.
The sun is sinking on the horizon this late afternoon, and when the golden rays of what is called "the golden hour" illuminate the animals, they appear to glow with a rich, rewarding light. Photographers love the golden hour. It also occurs in the morning just after dawn.
It can take my breath away, especially when the sky is dark with storm clouds.
Even the elephants have that Midas touch.
We find a cute black-backed jackal resting beside a bush. They are members of the Canidae family, making them related to dogs, wolves, and coyotes. They are omnivores, and often seen at the site of carcasses, barking bravely at lions in the hope the cats will move away and leave some meat for them.
They also eat large numbers of insects and rodents.
Jackals do not make good pets. They are destructive chewers, highly territorial, and will spray and defecate all over your house.
And then! Cries of alarm carry across the bushveld.
Immediately, our driver starts the truck and heads in the direction of the sound at a fast pace. Hang on!
We find the source of the distress.
Yes, it's coming from a black-backed jackal. I have never before heard a jackal "alarming," but I take one look at the surroundings and know there's a leopard in the area.
Volume up for this cell phone video!!!
The search begins. We drive the edge of the riverine vegetation, the leopard's chosen habitat, and eventually spot the cat disappearing in the tall grass.
We follow its course along a grassy ditch and are finally rewarded with one shot in the open.
to
We are past due at the hide, and I'm sure the host is wondering where we are. The guide turns around and heads to the hide.
We are so close, we can almost see the turn that takes us to the building.
And then sharp-eyed Shelly spots something out in the open field about a 75 yards away. Our guide turns off the track and heads in that direction, but stays far away from what they see.
I gasp when I use my long 500 mm telephoto lens to look at the animals. They are Bat-eared fox!!! I cannot emphasize enough how rare an opportunity this is.
The little critters are exceptionally skittish and usually run away when they spot vehicles and humans. I have seen them a couple of times in past years and have never been able to get even a half-decent photo.
Therefore, I can't call them a LIFER, but I think I'll award myself a HALF-LIFER.
Bat-eared foxes at their den. The one on the left is lying across the entrance to the underground den.
These little critters might resemble Yoda from Star Wars when they are at rest, but when they are alert, those large ears are erect and rounded, hence the name bat-eared.
A Yoda toy I found while picking up litter along the highway.
They are small (12-16 inches at the shoulder) with ears up to 5 inches long.
After weaning (14 to 16 weeks), the male takes over raising the pups.
Info from the Internet: The males take over grooming, defending, huddling, chaperoning, and carrying the young between den sites. Additionally, male care and attendance rates have been shown to have a direct correlation with pup survival rates. The female forages for food, which she uses to maintain her milk production.
They appear to be relaxed. So much so that it's hard to tell when their eyes are open and when they're sleeping. Even through the long lenses, it's difficult, so I take a lot of photos in the hope that I will see some open eyes.
Since they seem undisturbed, we move a little closer, but are still many yards away
And then, the golden light of the setting sun bathes the bat-eared foxes in its glow.
These photos are from the memory card that was "hiding" from me for two and a half months. I was particularly sick about losing these forever.
And then, it's time. A short distance down the road is the familiar entrance to the Lala Limpopo hide.
The Five Star ( my award) Lolo Limpopo overnight hide.
It's almost dark. We quickly get our camera gear ready and set up on the shooting counter.
Aubry has already put out the lights that will illuminate the waterhole and a bit of the surroundings.
He sets out our dinner, and then we settle in for the wait.
The name of the trip I’m on is called Botswana 2025 Hide and Seek Tour. So far, we’ve been engaged in the “seeking” part, the searching for birds and wildlife in Chobe National Park and Chobe River, and now in Dinaka Game Reserve.
Today marks the first “hide” part of the safari.
Blind or hide? A blind, from a photographer’s or wildlife viewer’s perspective, is some sort of above-ground structure that enables you to peer through portals while being hidden from wildlife. Usually, it is enclosed on only one to three sides, perhaps a camouflage tarp or wall of logs and brush.
In a hide, you are completely hidden,. The are often dug into the ground so you look out at ground or water level. For photographers, this is the ideal level. The object in such photography is “the lower, the better” for eye-level shots.
We stopped earlier for a “potty break” and to see a hide. This one, we were told, was not active insofar as wildlife, but I went in to see what it was like. There were two “restroom huts,” shielded from a small waterhole by a log wall between them and the hide.
Inside the hide. There are canvas flaps covering the windows now.
This morning, after driving for several hours and photographing game, we pull up to the hide we will use. A pathway leads us slowly underground while shielding us from view by any wildlife at the waterhole.
There is room for eight photographers inside. Our group of ten makes it work, but there is no room to move around or get better angles. The hide is a simple, narrow concrete room with open viewing windows along the waterhole side.
We look out over the waterhole.
There is no action as we settle in, so we focus on whatever we can to get our camera settings right. I am elated because there are two ducks I have never seen before, making them Lifers for me. They were once called Hottentot teal but are now called Blue-billed Teal.
"Hottentot" is considered an offensive slur by the native Khoisan peoples, a leftover from colonial days,. and efforts are being made to eliminate the word.
These very small Blue-billed teals are Lifers for me.
When there is nothing else, we shoot anything on the ground, like this skink.
Or this utterly frightful delta emarginatum or black mud wasp, we think. Wikipedia says the larger female is 1-1/4 inches long, but this thing seems to be four inches when it flies around us.
Then, a flock of red-billed quelea appears, much like a murmuration of starlings, and hundreds of birds almost blot out the sky.
A video of the flock:
Soon, the kudu appear and our cameras are filling memory cards like crazy.
A couple of wildebeest arrive and move in among the kudu.
A wildbeest coats itself with dust.
Rubbing faces into the dirt.
One wildebeest rubs its face in the dirt.
And then looks like this.
The wildebeest do things I’ve never seen before. They rub their faces in the dirt, kick up dust, and so on. My guess is that they are trying to get rid of biting insects.
More and more kudu join the others.
A kudu calf.
Then an impala stag takes its turn at the waterhole.
Two blue-billed teal are in the water.
As always, the quelea land, drink, fly, land, drink, fly. There are some doves that join them.
Laughing doves
Eventually, it’s time to leave and work our way back to camp for lunch and our mid-day break.
