Born Free Page 19
By this time the boys had finished packing and the loaded cars were waiting some distance away.
In spite of the loud noise of the cataracts Elsa at once heard the vibrations of the engine. She listened alertly and then looked up at me, her pupils widely dilated, so that her eyes seemed almost black. I had a strong impression that as on previous occasions she realized we were about to desert her and her expression seemed to say: ‘What do you mean by leaving me and my cubs without food?’ Then she abandoned her half-eaten meal, moved slowly down the sandy lugga with her children and disappeared.
16. Elsa Meets Her Publisher
After a five-day absence we returned on 28 April to camp; ten minutes later Elsa arrived alone. She was in excellent condition and delighted to see us, but made away with the carcase we had brought for her before we had time to tie it up for the night.
She did not reappear for twenty-four hours, then she came alone, ate enormously and by the morning was gone.
The absence of the cubs worried us, the more so because Elsa’s teats were heavy with milk, but to our relief the next afternoon we found the whole family playing in a dry riverbed. They followed us back to the camp. Soon afterwards a thunderstorm broke out; Elsa at once joined us in our tent; but the cubs sat outside, at intervals shaking the water off their coats. No one looks his best when drenched and cold, but the cubs certainly looked most endearing, if rather pathetic: their ears and paws seemed twice their normal size against their soaking bodies. As soon as the worst of the downpour was over Elsa joined them and they had an energetic game together, perhaps to warm themselves. After this they settled down to their dinner and tore at the meat so fiercely that beneath their coats which now were dry and fluffy we could see the play of their well-developed muscles. At the end of their meal we, for the first time, saw them bury the uneaten part of the kill. They scratched sand over the little pile most carefully until nothing of it could be seen. Perhaps their mother had taught them to do this during the five days in which they had lived totally wild. After everything had been neatly cleaned up the cubs settled round Elsa and she suckled them for a long time.
As this visit of ours was intended to be a short one, we were anxious to take some photographs but Elsa defeated all our efforts by spending most of her time away from camp. We also wanted to feed her up before another absence, so early one morning we called to her from the foot of the Big Rock. She came down with Jespah at her heels. The other two kept at a little distance. For a time they followed us along the car track, the cubs gambolling and wrestling and Elsa often pausing to wait for them. It was a glorious morning, the air still brisk and the beautiful clouds which usually pattern the Kenya sky on even the brightest days had not yet had time to form. Full of joie de vivre the cubs bustled along, knocking each other over, until Elsa turned into the bush, probably intending to take a short cut to the camp. Little Elsa and Gopa chased after her, but Jespah stayed on the track. It seemed that he felt in charge of his pride and we were certainly not included; he was making sure that we were not following. He paid no attention to his mother’s call, and advanced towards us in a most determined fashion, sometimes crouching low and then making a short rush forward. When he was quite close he stopped, looked at us and rolled his head from side to side. He appeared embarrassed and as though he did not know what he should do next. Meanwhile, Elsa returned to fetch her disobedient son, who, having stepped nimbly aside to avoid a vigorous cuff, trotted off after his brother and sister.
We spent a happy day in the studio where the family gorged on a carcase. When they could eat no more, the cubs rolled on their backs and with paws in the air dozed off. I leant against Elsa’s stern and Jespah rested under her shin. As soon as the cubs recovered from their siesta they explored the low branches which overhang the rapids halfway across the river. They seemed to have no fear of heights or of the rushing water below and turned with the greatest ease on even the thinnest boughs.
When it was nearly dark I began to drag the remains of the meat back to camp. While I was doing this Jespah charged at me twice, but Elsa gave him such a disapproving look that he stopped and sneaked away.
In the afternoon of a day on which George had to go off on patrol, I made another attempt to get some photographs. I took the Toto with me to help carry the camera and found the family, all very sleepy, in what we call ‘the kitchen lugga’, a sandy part of a dry riverbed. When I had spotted them I told the Toto to return to camp. It was very hot, but the sky was overcast and there were some dark rain clouds. I placed the cameras in position and Elsa came up and rolled between the tripods, but without upsetting them. The cubs appeared and were much intrigued by the shining objects and anxious to investigate the bags which I had hung out of their reach. Soon it began to drizzle, but, as it was the kind of shower that never lasts long, I slipped plastic bags over the cameras and did not bother to move them.
Suddenly I saw Elsa standing rigid and looking through half-closed eyes in the direction I had come from.
Then with flattened ears she rushed into the bush like a streak of lightning. I heard a yell from the Toto and dashed after her shouting, ‘No, Elsa, no.’ Luckily, I was in time to control her. I called to the Toto to make his way back to the camp very slowly and quietly, so as to give Elsa no incentive to chase him. I realized that seeing the rain, he had decided, against my orders, to come back and help me move the heavy cameras. He narrowly missed being very ill-rewarded for his kindness.
As soon as he was out of sight I succeeded in calming Elsa, by stroking her and telling her over and over again in a reassuring voice that it was only the Toto, Toto, Toto, whom she knew so well. Then I packed up the equipment and started back to the camp. It was not an easy return. Elsa remained very suspicious; she kept rushing ahead of me to make sure that all was safe. As a result I often found myself between her and the cubs and this they did not like. Jespah kept charging me. Eventually I managed to lead the party, which was my intention, for I did not want Elsa to be the first to arrive in camp. I was handicapped because in order to see what was going on behind me I was obliged to walk backwards, carrying my heavy load and constantly talking to Elsa in a casual, reassuring tone of voice, hoping to get her into a peaceful frame of mind before we reached home.
When I was within earshot of the boys I shouted to them to provide a carcase, and I kept Elsa back until it was in position. As a result our return went off peacefully.
After George came back we made another photographic expedition. We went close to the rock where in the morning we had seen Elsa but though we called to her she did not appear. Only after the light had become too weak for filming did she suddenly emerge silently from a bush only ten yards away from us.
She seemed very composed; perhaps she had spent all the afternoon there watching us. She rubbed her head against our knees but made no sound. We knew she kept silent when she did not wish the cubs to follow her. As quietly as she had appeared she vanished into the bush. Later we saw the pugmarks of her lion and concluded that they must be together.
The next afternoon I saw Elsa through my field glasses near to the spot where she had disappeared on the previous afternoon. She was on the ridge outlined against the sky, watching intently a little gap between some rocks. Though she saw me, she paid no attention to me. I remained there till it was nearly dark, and during all that time she never moved, and seemed to be on guard. Then suddenly her attention became fixed in the direction of the track; probably she heard the sound of George’s car returning from patrol.
Soon it appeared, stopped and I got into it and began talking to George. In the back I observed some guinea fowl which he had shot, and looked forward to a pleasant change from the tinned food on which we had been living.
But with a rush Elsa had leapt between us and was among the birds. Feathers began to fly in all directions as she jumped about making frantic efforts to pluck the birds. It looked as though nothing would be left of them, so George picked up a guinea fowl and threw it to the cu
bs. Immediately Elsa rushed after it and we took the opportunity to start up the engine and move off. Seeing this, Elsa bounded on to the roof of the Land Rover and insisted on being driven home. We hoped that after we had gone a few hundred yards her motherly instinct would make her return to the cubs, but she felt far from motherly and we had to bang from the inside on the canvas roof until we made her quite uncomfortable before she decided to jump off and rejoin her bewildered family.
Later they all came to camp and had great fun with the guinea fowl. We were amused to observe how very cunning Little Elsa had become. She allowed her brothers to pull out the prickly quills of the feathers and then when the bird had been nicely plucked took the first opportunity of grabbing it.
After this she defended it with snarls, growls and scratchings, her ears flattened and with such a forbidding expression that the boys thought it wiser to go off and pluck another bird. Sometimes the fights between the cubs over food were quite rough, but they never sulked afterwards or showed any resentment. We were surprised that they preferred guinea fowl to goat meat. When she was a cub Elsa had regarded a dead guinea fowl merely as a toy and seldom considered eating it.
The family spent that night close to the camp and in the morning we thought we knew why, for father’s pugmarks were all around the place and we assumed that he had intended to share their meal. Elsa had obviously not been agreeable to this plan for she had dragged the carcase into a thicket between our tents and the river, where it was unlikely that he would care to come.
She remained with her cubs in this stronghold for the next twenty-four hours, and only left it when she heard George returning from patrol in his Land Rover. He had brought some more guinea fowl and the fun and feast of the night before were repeated.
At dusk I went for a stroll and was surprised to see the pugmarks of Elsa’s lion superimposed on the tyre tracks of George’s car which had just returned. Father must have been around very recently. When I got back I found Elsa listening very attentively and soon afterwards she moved the cubs and the carcase into her stronghold. A few moments later we heard the lion ‘whuffing’ close by; he went on all night.
The next morning we had to return to Isiolo for eight days. Though Elsa must certainly have heard the familiar noises of breaking camp, she never emerged from her thorny fortress.
On our return to Isiolo we were thrilled to hear that a call from London had come through three times in the last few days and was now booked for the next morning.
To speak to someone in England, 4,000 miles away over the telephone is very exciting when one is in a remote outpost. Now we heard Billy Collins accepting our invitation to come out and meet Elsa.
We chartered a plane to bring him from Nairobi to the nearest place at which an aeroplane can land and then, two days beforehand, we set off. We were determined to find Elsa and try to keep her and the cubs near to the camp so that she should be there to meet her publisher.
We arrived in camp early. George fired a shot to notify Elsa of the fact, and soon we heard her ‘hnk-hnk’ but she did not turn up. As her voice came from the direction of the studio, I went to it and saw her and the cubs by the river drinking. She glanced at me and went on lapping, as though she were not in the least surprised to see me after eight days’ absence.
But later she came up and licked me, and Jespah settled himself about a foot away; then she sprang on to the table and lay stretched at full length on it. Jespah stood on his hind legs and rubbed noses with her. Though they ate a little of the meat I had brought them, they did not seem hungry. However, when George tried to rescue the remains of the carcase, Elsa pulled it gently away from him and took it into a thicket. During the evening we heard Elsa’s mate calling and around midnight George woke up to find her sitting on his bed and licking him, while the cubs sat outside the tent watching her. Next morning I went with Ibrahim to meet Billy Collins.
At lunchtime we arrived in the little Somali village where we expected the aeroplane to land, and I told the Africans to keep the airstrip free of livestock, as a plane might arrive at any moment.
This airfield was originally made for locust control; only a few bushes needed to be cleared to bring it into existence. It is now seldom used and, as the local herds often cross it, blends so well into the surroundings that it is difficult to find from the air.
About teatime we heard the vibrations of an engine, but it was a long time before the circling aircraft landed. Then the airstrip was suddenly covered by the entire village population, chattering excitedly. The colourful turbaned Mohammedans, clad in loose-falling garments, watched Billy Collins and the pilot clamber out from the small cabin. Billy had only arrived three hours earlier at Nairobi after a night flight in a Comet. I thought it very sporting of him to venture immediately afterwards on this rather different flight in a four-seater, bumping through notorious airpockets round the massive Mount Kenya and searching for the small airstrip in the vast sandy plains of the Northern Frontier.
Expecting Billy to be tired after his long flight from London and also feeling not too happy about the possibility of meeting elephants in the dark, I suggested camping there for the night, but after a discussion with Ibrahim and the Game Scout we decided to drive on.
When we reached the outpost where Elsa’s goat deposit is stationed the man in charge gave me a note for George, asking urgently for his presence next day at the nearest administration post as witness in a game case. After two more hours of brushing and winding our car through thick bush, we arrived at camp, ready for a reviving drink, but before George had time to pour it out we heard the familiar ‘hnk-hnk’ and a few moments later Elsa came rushing along, followed by her cubs. She welcomed us in her usual friendly manner and after a few cautious sniffs also rubbed her head against Billy, while the cubs watched from a short distance. Then she took the meat and dragged it out of the lamplight into the dark near my tent, where she settled with her children for their meal. While this went on we had our supper. We had made a special thorn enclosure next to George’s tent for Billy’s tent and after introducing him to his home, barricaded his wicker gate from outside with thorns and left him to a well-deserved night’s sleep.
Elsa remained outside my tent enclosure and I heard her softly talking to her cubs, until I fell asleep. At dawn I was woken by noises from Billy’s tent and recognized his voice and George’s: evidently they were trying to persuade Elsa to leave Billy’s bed. As soon as it got light she had squeezed herself through the densely woven wicker gate and hopped on to Billy’s bed, caressing him affectionately through the torn mosquito net and holding him prisoner under her heavy body. Billy kept admirably calm considering that it was his first experience of waking up with a fully grown lioness resting on him. Even when Elsa nibbled him slightly in his arm, her way of showing her affection, he did nothing but talk quietly to her.
Soon she lost interest and followed George out of the enclosure where she romped round the tents with her cubs. Afterwards the family disappeared towards the Big Rock and later George left to attend the court.
When he returned at teatime he told us that he had just passed a herd of elephant close to camp, so we finished our tea quickly and drove along the track to film them, but when we came to the Big Rock we noticed Elsa on its top posing magnificently against the sky. We forgot about the elephants and walked to the base of the rock, hoping to film Elsa and her cubs. As she repeatedly listened to some sound coming from behind a large boulder nearby it seemed likely that they were close. Elsa watched our every step, but never moved, however coaxingly we called to her. She kept aloof, and the cubs did not appear. We waited for a considerable time but as nothing happened we decided to try our luck with the elephants.
As soon as we had returned to the car Elsa stood up and called her cubs; as if to tease us, all of them now posed splendidly. We had been waiting for over one hour for just this. However, as Elsa had made it so clear that she was in no mood to be filmed, we drove on to the spot where George had met the
elephants, but we found nothing but their footmarks and we returned to Elsa.
By the time we reached the rock the light was too weak for photographing, so we just watched the family through our field glasses. The cubs chased and ambushed each other round the boulders while Elsa kept her eyes fixed on us. Finally, we called her and she came down at once, rushed through the bush and, after greeting us all affectionately, landed with a heavy thud on the roof of the Land Rover. While we patted her paws which dangled over the windscreen, she watched the cubs which were still playing on the rock quite unconcerned at her departure. Though Elsa seemed to enjoy our attentions, she never took her eyes off her children until they finally scrambled down the rock. Then she jumped off the car and disappeared into the bush to meet them.
We took this opportunity to drive home and prepare a carcase for the family. As soon as it was ready they arrived and began to tear at the meat, while we had our sundowners a few feet away. All that evening we watched the lions who seemed to have accepted Billy as a friend.
Before daybreak I was again woken up by noises coming from his tent, into which Elsa had once more found her way to say good morning. After some coaxing from George, who had come to his rescue, she left. George then reinforced the thorns outside the wicker gate with such a bulk that he felt sure Elsa would not be able to penetrate this barricade, so he went to bed again. But Elsa was not going to be defeated by a few thorns and so after a short time Billy found himself again being embraced by her and squashed under her weight. While he struggled to free himself from the entangling mosquito net George came to his rescue, but this time he took much longer to remove the thorns outside the gate, and by the time he got inside Elsa had managed to clasp her paws around Billy’s neck and held his cheekbones between her teeth. We had often watched her doing this to her cubs; it was a sign of affection, but the effect on Billy must have been very different.