A glorious sunrise of fire and brimstone flooded the eastern horizon of the Pilanesberg National Park as we passed through Bakubung Gate at 6:07am. The tail-lights of various safari vehicles and private cars (much like ours) flickered on the roads ahead of us and we realised we were not the first visitors into the park on this Saturday.
With no real destination in mind, we headed towards Mankwe Hide, hoping that the vast Mankwe Dam (swollen with the recent rains) would give us some directional inspiration. As we approached Lengau Dam, we spotted an adult hippo some distance away, with a baby in tow, trudging through the gloom for an early morning bath. There is a stretch of road, shortly after Lengau Dam, that climbs steadily before offering splendid views of the much larger Mankwe Dam (to the north-east). My animal-tracking ability is generally less accurate than a maritime weather forecast, but I would be willing to bet a small sum of money that a tower of giraffes can always be found along this stretch. And the tall, graceful creatures did not disappoint this morning, gently observing passers-by from a safe distance.
On nothing more than a whim, we decided to forego our original plan, and turned off the tarred Kubu drive onto the dusty, rocky path of Mankwe Way. Long, yellow grass, easily the height of a grown man, swayed in the wind and it was impossible to see what might be watching us from within. This gave way to thicker bush as we continued to wind our way eastwards. The “road” was cracked with rain-worn crevices interspersing exposed rocks and rough, loose stones.
Passing us in the opposite direction were several safari vehicles, belonging to the various lodges in and around the Park, clearly in pursuit of something. One of the rangers generously paused and told us that a pride of lions had just been spotted nearby! We naturally turned our car about and raced to join the procession…
It was difficult to keep up with the pace of the more rugged safari vehicles, and I feared we had lost sight of our leaders. My fears were alleviated when, only moments later, having also now made a U-turn, was the friendly ranger once again! He did not stop to chat this time, but waved at us furiously to turn about and follow him…
We approached a number of vehicles grouped together, a clear sign that something special had been sighted. At the same time, two feline heads rose above the thick grasses to our right, anxiously moving away from the gathering of cars. I thought they were leopards at first, but their lithe frames and the grace with which they eased through the grassland could mean only one thing…
… Cheetahs!
What followed next was a frantic period of humans desperately manoeuvring their cars about 180 degrees to follow the cheetahs as best as possible! A large white rhino, to whom nobody was giving any attention whatsoever, grazed nearby and marvelled at the stupidity of humans, no different to the panic-stricken guineafowls that line the main roads of the Park.
One of the cheetahs had a collar on its neck, and we can only presume that it was Rain, the legendary female cheetah of the Pilanesberg, along with one of her now-grown cubs. They both looked restless, and they were either annoyed by the flurry of human observers who had decided to ruin their early Saturday morning walk, or perhaps the nearby group of impala and wildebeest had stoked their gastronomical appetites. We did wonder if a thrilling chase was about to unfold but the impala were certainly very much aware of the predatorial presence.
We decided to leave nature to itself, and drive back along Mankwe Way to the main Kubu road. To stretch our legs and top up our coffee mugs, we continued northwards to the Pilanesberg Centre. It was still early, and the various stalls were in the process of being set up. This did not, however, stop the wildebeest from passionately licking the salty rocks that had been laid out for them in front of the viewing deck.
The sun was now rising steadily over the Park and the chill of the early autumn morning had worn off. The residents of the bushveld would soon be resting and so we decided to make our way back to our lodge. We elected a scenic route and followed the winding and extremely bumpy dirt road of Thlware just to the north of Mankwe Dam; any early morning drinkers appeared to have moved on by this time.
Thlware, in turn, linked back into Mankwe Way, and we soon came across a herd of about twenty elephants lazily picking at the grass as they gravitated northwards. It appeared to be a nursery of some sort as several little ones moved between the larger grey shapes. We did not want to disturb their peace and so we continued on our way, gradually returning to the spot of the earlier cheetah sighting. The number of vehicles had diminished vastly and we were about to move on when… once more… we spotted our two elegant friends gliding through the grassland! Rain and her companion seemed to be surreptitiously moving towards the impala and wildebeest who, incidentally, were still alert and keeping a sharp eye on the cheetahs.
As the two predators disappeared into the grassland, we approached the impala and wildebeest and paused here, half expecting a sudden moment of panic as two cheetah sprinted out of the bush! But, this did not happen, and the impala were very happy with life as they munched on the leaves of various bushes.
“Bah-hooooog!” A loud guttural noise boomed from amongst a thicket of trees and we pricked up our ears in eager anticipation. Something was certainly afoot!
The impala and wildebeest were utterly nonplussed, however, and continued about their business. The booming noise sounded again and an equally terrifying response emanated from the steep cliff of rocks nearby. Almost momentarily, black shapes began dancing and swinging from the branches of the tallest tree in the vicinity, and the regularity of “Bah-hoooog!” increased alarmingly.
Out of nowhere, an army of thirty baboons immediately appeared – gruff adults, chests protruding as they marched purposefully forward, slender adolescents prancing mischievously about, and infants trying their best to keep up with their elders. At first we thought they had perhaps seen the cheetahs approaching and were sounding the alarm far and wide, but I could not have been more wrong.
This was a celebration of some sort – a jovial family outing on a glorious Saturday morning! The impala and the wildebeest had evidently been notified about the party beforehand, and were perfectly content to let it carry on without their involvement. The baby baboons had the most fun as they playfully pushed each other before escaping up a thorn tree or frolicking across the dirt road. Their mothers kept them in check, however, and one infant was given a thorough cleaning as its mother (presumably) diligently picked fleas from its grey fur coat. Several older baboons watched us very carefully, and we were sure to close our car windows whenever they got too close.
As for Rain and her companion, they wanted no part of this chaotic pantomime and had, by now, long disappeared into the absorbing arms of the bushveld…
The adventures of today had only begun and continue in “Walking with Royalty” as we encounter the most regal of beasts.
Journal of the Coin Collector 