Zululand Idyll | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Zululand Idyll | Previous Challenge Entry
By Gillian Dobson
08/25/08
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The pan was disappointingly empty, a mere puddle surrounded by trampled mud, clumps of reed and swathes of grass which in spite of the drought had managed to grow in the slightly damp soil of the pan floor. It was the last morning of our visit to the Bonamanzi Game Park situated in the northern Zululand bush, and we had been walking for about forty-five minutes, hoping our visit to the pan would reveal a large body of water, its banks host to a variety of game animals and interesting birds. Though the rough lathe roof of the hide offered welcome shelter from the mid morning heat of the sun, and the breeze blowing through the cracks and openings in the hide walls was a cooling relief after the long walk, there was nothing to see. A horizontal “window” across the front wall of the hide faced onto the pan. We leaned forward, elbows on the ledge and binoculars raised, hoping to spot some antelope or perhaps a kite or other species of local bird-life, but nothing moved. A heat-induced inertia seemed to have descended.

I moved my binoculars slowly from side to side, scanning the bush on the opposite side of the pan. Tall fever trees stretched through the dense tangle of undergrowth, their yellow-green bark a fresh contrast against the grey-brown colours of the winter-bare shrubs and smaller trees. Here and there a darker shadow marked the spot where a path worn by the regular passage of antelope and other smaller mammals led through the undergrowth. The air was still, the sky above the pan a washed-out blue. High on one of the fever tree branches I could see the beginnings of a weaver’s nest, or perhaps it was all that was left of last year’s nest-building attempts.

We sat on. Waiting and watching. But still nothing moved.

Game viewing at midday in the African bush requires patience. There’s no place here for the western obsession with watches and schedules and time and motion planning. What better way to relax and recuperate after a tough week at the office? And so we watched and waited. Shifting position as the wooden bench grew ever more uncomfortable. Scanning the bush continuously through the binoculars. On and on we waited.

A soft movement to my left caught my attention. A shiny nose, soft grey-brown coat, large ears and two horns. His head nodding forward with each delicate, cautious step, a young nyala bull moved slowly out of the sheltering bush adjacent to the hide. He stopped, raised his nose and sniffed as the breeze blew our scent towards him. Behind him, still partially hidden in the undergrowth, I could just see the cream-striped reddish flanks of the female. She was waiting for his lead. He took another step, stopped again, looked around in our direction, straight at us, weighing up the danger. Then turned, and bounded back into the undergrowth, the female close behind him.

More time passed. A heavy stillness descended. It seemed that even the sun was standing still.

Then all of a sudden the pan began to come to life. To the left, but further away from the hide, a second group of nyala appeared – a male, a female and a youngster. They moved down into the floor of the pan and began to graze the soft grass. A few minutes later I noticed a movement on the right bank of the pan. A small red duiker came out of the undergrowth and moved down into the pan, tip-toeing gingerly towards the puddle of water where it bent its head and began to drink. I watched through the binoculars, enchanted, as its little tongue lapping at the water, its bent head topped with two small horns. As we watched, a big grey reedbuck female bounded suddenly down the bank into the patch of reeds and as she disappeared from view, we noticed that a small herd of impala males had moved down onto the grass on the far side of the pan where they were browsing lazily. They were so beautiful, their coats a soft tan, short tales flicking above the distinctive black and cream M-shaped marking on their hind quarters and their curved horns adding a stateliness to their graceful forms.

How glad I was that we had exercised patience, had waited and watched and finally had received the reward. Those few hours by the pan were a fitting and special end to our Zululand idyll.

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