This is the second part in a series on southern African safaris. The "Big Five" species consist of lion, elephant, Cape buffalo, rhino, and leopard, which is the most elusive. Click here to read the first in the series.
August 2003 -- After a quick stop in our room to freshen up and change clothes, 8:30 finds us in the bar of the main dining facility. Sipping our beverages, we study the black-and-white photographs that line the bar's walls. They are mostly pictures of old hunting parties from the 1930s, '40s and '50s, when MalaMala was a world-famous hunting preserve. Each photo depicts a group of white men and women in safari garb gathered around a dead animal -- usually a lion -- whose grimacing head has been propped up on a stick in order to enhance its photogenicity. Celebrities, European aristocrats, even a royal Princess and her spouse grin out at the camera with evident satisfaction.
Nowadays, with Nikons having replaced Springfields, the wall display seems a little macabre, but in fact these hunting parties are the reason we are here now. Many of South Africa's game reserves, including MalaMala, were first set aside for hunting purposes, and their owners were among the continent's first conservationists. MalaMala itself was originally a cattle farm -- until the cattle proved all too attractive to the local lions. In 1929, the land was purchased by Wac Campbell, a man with a very different objective in mind. His stated goal, he said, was "the strict preservation of game with the object of handing this on as a legacy to my youngsters when I get old."
Wac Campbell got his wish, handing the reserve over to his son Urban in 1950. Ten years later, the reserve officially ended the hunting of animals and dedicated itself to game viewing. In 1964, MalaMala was purchased by its current owners, the Rattray family. Cutting-edge conservation practices have continued to be the rule here.
The sound of beating drums cuts into our wall-gazing reverie: Dinner is served. We head next door into the boma, a large circular enclosure made out of twenty-foot tall reeds. Bomas are an African village tradition, and they have been adopted by many of the continent's game lodges. Several long tables have been set up on one side of the enclosure, and along the opposite wall a buffet dinner has been laid out. A small fire burns in the center of the circle, giving off a light incense-like aroma. It's very cozy, and the long tables make for a convivial atmosphere.
The twenty-odd guests and their rangers all seat themselves and there is much discussion of African wildlife. At one point, a number of the MalaMala staff enter dressed in red with red scarves in their hair, clapping and singing in their native language. The group applauds and all at once it is quite late, and we are escorted by Leon back to our room. This after-dinner escort is mandatory: Since there are no fences around MalaMala, predators have free reign to wander through the camp -- and the management wants to be sure all guests end up safely to bed each night, ready for their 5:30 A.M. wakeup call.
Another Day, Another Adventure
True to form, the phone rings at exactly 5:30 A.M.
"Hello, Royce. This is Leon. Are you ready for your game drive?"
"Absolutely!"
"Good. I'll meet you and Alexis in the dining room in half an hour!"
"Wonderful!"
I hang up the phone and blink sleepily in the darkness. In the half-light, I can see a sizable troop of baboons, adults and babies alike, ranging over the area next to the swimming pool, searching for insects in the dewy grass. I call for Alexis to come look. Dozens of the agile primates scuttle across the wide swath of lawn beneath our window in the gray dawn.
It's a beautiful morning for our second game drive, still cool enough to warrant wearing a light jacket as we first head out. The sun quickly rises in the sky, however, and by 7:30 we're down to shirtsleeves, savoring another gorgeous day. After heading east yesterday, today we plan to drive southward on the reserve, paying a quick visit to Harry's Camp, one of MalaMala's two outlying camps, in the course of our travels. We have a fifth rider today, Stefan, an amiable young ranger-in-training who grew up in Durban, a city on South Africa's east coast. As we drive along the bewildering maze of dirt roads, Leon is quizzing Stefan on our location in MalaMala nomenclature.
Meanwhile, Leon continues his ongoing nature commentary. Impala herds are everywhere; we learn that these deer-like animals practice segregation of the sexes, gathering either in bachelor herds or herds of females with one lucky male in attendance, and we are quickly able to tell them apart--the males impalas are the ones with horns. We pass by an umbrella thorn tree with its nasty looking stickers, and scotia trees with beautiful red flowers growing out of termite mounds ("Their nectar is delicious," says Leon."), and snap a photo of a thousand-year-old leadwood tree. It was killed finally by termites, Leon tells us, but its trunk and bare branches still stretch defiantly to the sky.
To our surprise, we're also turning into bird watchers. The woodland kingfisher is our personal favorite, with its turquiose plumage, but we also start to recognize other species: the yellow-billed hornbill and the yellow-eyed canary; the red-backed shrike; the black fly-catcher; the lilac-breasted rola; and the grey lurie. The franklin, a bird the size of a domesticated hen with a special penchant for running along the ground, can be seen everywhere along the road. We spy a longtailed shrike, a Cape turtle dove, various parrots and, most impressive of all, a Marshall eagle, sitting high in a tree. This eagle, Leon informs us, has a wing-span of seven feet, and inch-long talons that can kill a monkey or even a baby impala. As we watch, the eagle lifts its wings and soars off.
In mid-morning, we reach Harry's Camp. Like the Main Camp, Harry's is perched on the west bank of the Sand River, but here the drop-off to the river is much steeper. The managing ranger gives us a tour of the compound, which is spanking new, having been moved recently from its old site further to the south. Due to its location, this particular camp is fenced in to keep out animals. The rooms here are comfortable but smaller than those of the Main Camp, and there only 12 of them, holding up to 24 visitors at a time, compared to 25 rooms and a maximum of 50 guests in the Main Camp. The rangers at Harry's and Kirkman's Camps conduct the same twice-daily game drives, but since they have fewer frills, the cost of a stay is substantially less at the smaller camps -- only $350 per day (per person) at Kirkman's and $275 at Harry's, compared to $500 a day at the MalaMala Main Camp.
Our tour completed, we turn back northward. Leon, keeping one ear to his radio, learns from another ranger that a leopard has been spotted in the vicinity of the river, and we head off in the direction of the sighting. A mile or so later, Leon slows abruptly to a crawl. "There it is!" he says. It takes us a minute or so to discern the large cat, who is lying inside a clump of bushes on a sharply sloping rise, almost invisible in the shadows.
We sit patiently, waiting in the ever-hotter morning sun. Five minutes go by, then ten. We can see the big cat stirring slightly. Then suddenly it is on its feet, climbing up over the small ridge where it was sequestered. We drive through a nearby gap and catch the leopard descending on the other side. A moment later it breaks out into the open and begins padding across a stretch of sand -- part of the bank of the nearby Sand River -- its head down slightly, its tail curled up behind it. I hold my breath as I focus my camera on the leopard, standing out clearly against the bright white sand. The cat is beyond stunning. It's a female, and weighs about 40 kilos (88 pounds), Leon informs us. Leon has known this leopard since she was a cub. Like all adult leopards, she lives a solitary life except for a brief stretch during the mating season.
We continue to follow the cat for a long couple of minutes along the sandy banks, Leon maneuvering to stay just a few yards behind her, until she finally disappears into a clump of thick brush, slinking onward in her perpetual search for food.
"You can see why leopard skins have always been so coveted," says Alexis. I have to agree: To glimpse the shimmering beauty of that spotted coat up close in the wild is to see one of nature's finest creations.
"That means we've seen four out of the Big Five so far," I note. "And we've still got two game drives to go."
"I'd say we're doing quite well," beams Leon. "Now...what would you say to some lunch?"
Recommended Outfitters
If you're looking for a topnotch specialist to plot out a complete Southern Africa safari vacation, contact Julian Harrison and company at Premier Tours (800/545-1910; www.premiertours.com; info@premiertours.com). Another highly recommended safari company and winner of numerous eco-tourism awards is Wilderness Safaris (27/11/883-0747; www.wilderness-safaris.com).
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