Born Free Page 23

  The hookworm infection she had suffered from as a cub had left a groove round the edge of her teeth and the breaks had occurred along these indentations. These broken teeth would, I thought, hamper her when hunting even though her claws were her main weapons.

  When it got dark we went back to the tents; all that evening Elsa was alert and restless and eventually she and the cubs disappeared into the bush.

  About midnight I was woken up by the roaring of several lions. This was followed by the frightening noise of a fight and after a pause, another fight and later a third. Finally, I heard the whimpering of a lion who had obviously got hurt in the battle and I could only hope it was not Elsa. Next there was the sound of an animal crossing the river and then all was quiet.

  At dawn, we got up and went out to track the spoors left by our quarrelsome visitors. We recognized those of the fierce lioness and her mate. Evidently Elsa had challenged them when they neared the camp. For six hours we followed her pugmarks which led across the river to the Border Rocks; they joined up with those of the cubs.

  All day we searched fruitlessly and at sunset fired a shot. After some time we heard Elsa calling from very far away, and eventually she appeared, followed by Jespah.

  She was limping badly, but seemed to wish to get to us as fast as she could hobble, though she stopped once or twice and looked back, to see whether the other two cubs were coming. Both she and Jespah when they joined us showed how pleased they were by rubbing themselves against our legs. I then saw that Elsa had a deep gash in one of her front paws, which was bleeding and obviously causing her a lot of pain. The only way of helping her was to get her home and dress the wound.

  The camp was far off, it was getting dark and judging by the many buffalo and rhino spoors we had seen, it was essential not to get benighted. Everything indicated that we should hurry, but in spite of George’s impatient shouts urging us to make haste we had often to stop and wait for the little ones whose pace was rather slow. Jespah acted like a sheep dog running between George and the rearguard trying to keep us all together.

  For once, the tsetse flies were a help. Elsa was covered with them and so kept up with me in the hope that I would brush them off her back. Jespah, too, was attacked by them and, for the first time, pushed his silky body against my legs asking me to deliver him too from this plague. It was all against my principles to touch him, but it was difficult to resist brushing off the flies.

  Elsa often stopped to spray her jets against a bush. Was she in love again?

  We were all completely exhausted when we got back. Elsa refused to eat, but sat on the Land Rover watching the cubs tearing at the meat, at intervals looking with great concentration into the darkness. It was barely nine when she left the camp with her family and about midnight we heard a lion calling from the Big Rock.

  During the next days she came into camp every afternoon and I dressed her wounds.

  When she was better, she and the cubs came along the river with us on a croc hunt. Then we had another example of the way in which she could apparently order the cubs to stay put and be implicitly obeyed.

  She scented a buck and stalked it unsuccessfully; meanwhile the cubs remained as still as though they had been frozen to the ground and there was never a question of their interfering with her hunt, though later they were lively enough splashing in the water and climbing trees. This they achieved by hooking their claws into the bark and pulling themselves up; sometimes they got as high as ten feet above the ground.

  Another of Elsa’s instinctive reactions showed up on this occasion. The cubs were playing within one hundred yards of a crocodile who lived in a deep pool but she plainly regarded this croc as harmless. Perhaps she knew that he was replete, for she was quite unconcerned by his proximity though, as a rule, the slightest ripple on the water would cause her to become suspicious. We had always observed that she differentiated between harmless games, such as a tug-of-war between George and Jespah over a carcase, and one that might become dangerous, or frightening, as when George threw a stick into the river. Then she would immediately place herself between the cubs and the water – either to prevent them from jumping into it or if they were alarmed perhaps to reassure them that the thing they saw was only a piece of floating wood and not the snout of a crocodile.

  On 12 August I went to Nairobi for six days and returned on 18 August. While we were having a belated supper, we heard two lions roaring. From the noise we gathered that they were approaching the camp rapidly from upstream. Elsa rushed off in their direction leaving the cubs behind; she returned after about three-quarters of an hour, but by then the cubs had gone, so she began to look for them all round the camp and seemed very nervous.

  Suddenly we were startled by the most deafening roar which seemed to come from just behind the kitchen and George, looking in that direction, saw the torchlight reflected in the shining eyes of a lion.

  Standing close to our tent Elsa roared back defiantly until, luckily, the cubs arrived. She took them off at once and soon we heard them hurriedly crossing the river.

  After this all was quiet and we went to bed. But about 1.30 a.m. George was woken by a noise near his tent and flashing his torch saw a strange lioness sitting some thirty yards away. She got up slowly and he put a shot over her to speed her on her way, but this had no effect except to start another lion roaring.

  For half an hour roars, growls and grunts succeeded each other, then the lions moved on.

  Next evening Elsa came in very late and settled near the tents while Jespah, who was in one of his energetic moods, amused himself upsetting everything within reach; the tables were swished clear of bottles, plates and cutlery, the rifles were pulled out of their stands and the haversacks full of ammunition carried away, and cardboard containers were first proudly paraded in front of the other cubs and then torn to shreds. In the morning we found the family still in camp, a most unusual occurrence. The boys kept well inside the kitchen fence waiting for them to go, then, as they showed no intention of leaving, George walked up to Elsa, whereupon she knocked him down. After this George released me from my thorn enclosure and I tried my luck. I approached Elsa, calling to her, but as she looked at me through half-closed eyes, I kept on my guard while she came slowly towards me, and I was justified, for when she was within ten yards of me she charged at full speed, knocked me down, sat on me and then proceeded to lick me.

  She was extremely friendly, so this, it seemed, was no more than her idea of a morning game. But she knew quite well that the knocking down trick was not popular with us and this was the first time since the birth of the cubs that she had indulged in it.

  Later she took the cubs to a place below the studio, and in the afternoon we joined them there. Jespah was very much interested in George’s rifle and tried his best to snatch it away from him, but soon he realized that it was impossible to do this so long as its owner was on his guard; after this discovery it was amusing to see how he tried to distract George’s attention by pretending to chase his brother and sister. When George’s suspicions were allayed and he put the rifle down to pick up his camera, Jespah pounced on it and straddled it. A real tug-of-war followed, which Elsa watched attentively. Finally, she came to George’s rescue by sitting on her son and thereby forcing him to release his hold on the gun. She continued to sit on the cub for such a long time that I got worried about him. When she finally released him, though he looked longingly at the rifle and crouched near it, he was very subdued and left it alone. Nevertheless, for a while Elsa remained suspicious of his good behaviour and at intervals placed herself between him and the gun.

  Finally, she rolled on her back with her paws in the air and moaned softly. The cubs responded at once and began suckling. Elsa looked utterly happy, but I could not help wondering how the cubs avoided hurting her with their sharp teeth. It was a most idyllic scene and just at that moment a paradise flycatcher flew over us trailing its white tail feathers like a long train behind it. The cubs were eight months old that da
y and she had every reason to be proud of them.

  When they dozed off, their round bellies filled to bursting point, Elsa got up, arched her back, gave a long yawn, came over to me, licked me, sat beside me and rested her paw on my shoulder for some time, then she put her head on my lap and went to sleep. While she and the two small lions slept, Little Elsa kept guard over the family and twice unsuccessfully stalked a waterbuck.

  When we were in bed we heard sounds of crunching, which went on until morning; evidently the family were spending the night in camp, finishing up the carcase. During the following day, they stayed very close to the tents. That evening we heard the cubs’ father calling and thought it was because he was nearby that Elsa had preferred not to go far afield. For three more days she never left us.

  20. Cubs and Cameras

  There was truly a Garden of Eden atmosphere about life around the precincts of the camp, for the animals who shared this territory with us had got so used to our presence that they often came very close without showing alarm. Even the fish had become friendly and when they saw us swam towards us.

  As I am typing these words a troop of some fifty baboons are pacing along the bank opposite me. In the middle of them are three bushbuck, a ram, a doe and their fawn. They seem to have joined the troop for safety and are not in the least concerned when a baboon brushes past them.

  No scene could be more peaceful or further removed from the generally accepted picture of baboons tearing small animals to pieces. I thought that, if it were not threatened by the poachers, wild life here would be ideal, for even the fierce lioness is much less of a danger to Elsa than these men. In any case, she is a natural part of bush life; so are feuds between lions.

  It was encouraging to know that Elsa now went out to meet her enemy. We had first noticed this during the third week of August, the night when Elsa and the cubs were eating their supper in front of the tent. Suddenly she growled and went off, and only returned an hour later. During that night I heard two lions approaching camp, and soon afterwards a fearful quarrel broke out. Towards dawn I heard Elsa moving the cubs in the direction of the Big Rock. In the afternoon we met her in the bush on her way to camp, her head, especially near her wounded ear, covered with bleeding bites.

  After she reached home I got out the remains of their last night’s supper; there was not much left. Elsa wouldn’t touch it but the cubs ate ravenously. When a new carcase was brought by the boys she, too, began to eat. I wondered why, if she was so hungry, she had refrained from touching the first course I had provided. Could it have been that she saw that there was not enough to go round and wanted the cubs to have a chance of filling their bellies before she took her share?

  That evening Ibrahim arrived with a new lion-proof Land Rover I had recently ordered. He also brought the mail, and I settled down to read an article about Elsa in the Illustrated London News. She was described as a world-famous animal. This was gratifying, but at the moment poor Elsa was tilting her head in great pain.

  When she joined us in the studio next day she was still very distressed, not that this prevented her from disciplining Jespah with a series of well-aimed clouts when, intrigued by the clatter of my typewriter, he teased me.

  Poor Jespah, he still had a lot to learn, not about the wild life which is his, but about the strange world which is ours and which he showed so great a wish to investigate. One night, for instance, I heard him apparently very busy in George’s tent. How busy I only discovered next morning when I noticed that my field glasses were missing. Eventually, I found bits of their leather case in the bush below the tent. They bore the imprint of Jespah’s milk teeth. Close by lay the glasses, and luckily, by some miracle, the lenses were intact. Yes, there was no doubt that Jespah could be a nuisance but he was irresistible and one couldn’t be cross with him for long.

  At eight months he had now lost his baby fluff but his coat was as soft as a rabbit’s. He had begun to imitate his mother and to wish to be treated by us as she was. Sometimes he would come and lie under my hand, evidently expecting to be patted and, though it was against my principles, I occasionally did so. He often wanted to play with me, but though his intentions were entirely friendly I never felt sure that he might not bite or scratch me as he would his own family. He was not like Elsa who controlled her strength on such occasions, for he was much closer to a wild lion.

  We were both very interested in observing the different relationships which Elsa’s cubs were developing towards us. Jespah, prompted by an insatiable curiosity, had overcome his earlier inhibitions, mixed with us and was most friendly but allowed no familiarities.

  Little Elsa was truly wild, snarled if we came close and then sneaked away. Though she was less boisterous than her brothers, she had a quiet and efficient way of getting what she wanted. Once I watched Jespah trying to drag a freshly killed goat into a bush. He pulled and tugged and somersaulted across it – but nothing would move the carcase. Then Gopa came to his aid and between the two they tried their best – but finally gave up exhausted and sat panting next to it. Now Little Elsa, who had watched their exertions, came along and pulling hard, straddled the heavy load into a safe place where she was joined at once by her panting brothers.

  Gopa quite often made use of the tent when the tsetse were most active, and it was on these occasions that I noticed how jealous he was. For instance, if I sat near Elsa he would look long and scrutinizingly into my eyes with an expression of disapproval and made it extremely plain that she was his mum and that he would prefer me to leave her alone. One evening I was sitting at the entrance of the tent while he was in the annexe at the far end and Elsa lay between us watching both of us. When Gopa started chewing at the tent canvas, I said as firmly as I could, ‘No, no’; to my surprise, he snarled at me, but stopped chewing. A little later he took up the canvas again and, though my ‘No’ was answered with another snarl, he again stopped.

  So far, all the cubs responded when we said ‘No’ although we had never enforced our prohibition with a stick or anything else which could frighten them.

  After a peaceful day and night around the camp, Elsa and her cubs left early one morning and crossed the river, so I was surprised when shortly afterwards Makedde reported having found the spoor of a lioness which last night had come from upstream as far as the kitchen and returned the same way. Was this the fierce lioness? Though Elsa had shown no sign of alarm, she kept away for one and a half days and when she did return it was after dark. She kept the cubs hidden at some distance and dragged the meat away quickly, keeping out of view with the cubs all the time. Next morning all of them had crossed the river. A few nights later while the family were still in camp, we heard, towards dawn, two lions approaching from upstream. Elsa at once took her children away and I saw them in the dim light rushing towards the studio. Soon afterwards Elsa returned alone and trotted determinedly in the direction of the lions. Neither I nor the boys heard a sound, though we listened intently, until after half an hour Elsa came back and called her cubs. There was no reply and she rushed round desperately calling and calling. As soon as I had disentangled myself from my thorn enclosure, I joined her in her search, but she only snarled at me and, sniffing along the road, disappeared in the direction of the Big Rock. A little later we heard lots of ‘whuffings’ coming from this direction, but assuming that the two lions were close, we did not follow Elsa until the afternoon, when all was quiet. On the road we found not only Elsa’s pugmarks, but also those of another lioness, both leading to the rock.

  Elsa did not come to camp that night, but two hours after George returned from Isiolo the next afternoon, Elsa arrived with her cubs, all fit but very nervous. She inspected the bush round the camp several times and left long before daylight.

  At the beginning of September we heard that Sir Julian Huxley was soon coming on a mission sponsored by UNESCO to investigate the problem of the conservation of wild life in East Africa. When he wrote asking us if we could show him parts of the Northern Frontier Province
we were very pleased as this would give us the opportunity of acquainting him with the local problems, and the lack of means for dealing with them.

  We believed that Sir Julian’s visit would be a great encouragement to all those interested in the preservation of wild life. We also knew that he wished to see Elsa. We limited her visitors to those who had good and sufficient reasons for seeing her and, as Sir Julian clearly had these, we were glad that he should spare time to do so.

  Between 7 and 9 September we showed Sir Julian something of the North Frontier District, and late one afternoon we arrived in Elsa’s domain.

  We fired the usual signal shots and twenty minutes later were delighted to hear the barking of baboons which usually heralded the arrival of Elsa and the cubs. In her enthusiastic welcome she nearly knocked me down and then hopped on to the top of the Land Rover. Meanwhile, the cubs were busy dragging the carcase we had provided for them into a safe place. For half an hour we watched them and then left. Elsa had a very puzzled expression when she saw the cars going off after such a short time.

  During my next visit to Elsa George arrived bringing a lorry as well as his car, and, attracted by the noise of the engines, Elsa and the cubs soon turned up. George told me that next morning David Attenborough and Jeff Mulligan were arriving from London and that we were to collect them at the nearest airstrip. For some time we had been corresponding with David Attenborough about making a film of Elsa and her cubs for the BBC.

  We had had previous suggestions for filming her but these we had refused fearing that the arrival of a large film unit might upset her. The coming of only two people was much less worrying, but even they would need constant protection. We hoped to provide for their safety at night by making one sleep in my lion-proof Land Rover which was driven into a large thorn enclosure; our other guest’s sleeping quarters were to be a tent rigged up on a lorry which also stood in the enclosure. Another tent would serve as dressing room, bathroom, laboratory and equipment store.