After the leopard, we drove around for a bit. We only had an hour or two before we were due to meet our plane at the airstrip. We weren't really looking for anything specific...we figured we'd just drive around and see what presented itself. In an African game preserve, SOMETHING always does. Even if it's only a bird or a caterpillar. We were in luck though! We found some baboons in the trees - the guy up above had some really impressive teeth. I think the little one was his understudy. I don't believe I've mentioned it already, so for the record, these are Chacma Baboons, considered one of the largest of the baboons. I've also heard them referred to as dog-faced baboons. Their canines, as you can see above, can be quite huge - up to 2" in length - longer than the canines of a lion. Chacmas usually live in social groups called troops, consisting of multiple adult males, adult females, and their offspring.
And I LOVE this guy, with his hands-free feeding.
Lovely the lovely Blacksmith Lapwing!
Gavin stopped to show us a tortoise.
A MALE tortoise, as he pointed out. Males have the V-shape, female tortoises have a U-shape.
That tortoise is thinking, "I hate Comcast high speed digital cable."
A Hamerkop. This bird was the origin of a rather humorous misunderstanding on my part. I thought it was called a Hammercock. And I kept quoting to myself in the privacy of my own head, "Because she's with Captain Hammer. And THESE are not the hammer." Which is (in context) a rather amusing quote from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along-Blog.
Then I figured out that it was Hamerkop, and felt extremely foolish.
It's called a Hamerkop because of the (hammer-like) shape of its head.
A Chobe Bushbuck! Gavin told us it was rather rare to see one in that area. But we didn't see one. We saw four. Three males and one female. Two young males attempting to contest with a buck in his prime for the love of a young lady Bushbuck.
The adult male was seriously peeved by the two interlopers.
Above - the male defends his lady love, shown in the photo below.
Below, one of the young males gets sneaky.
The adult male sees him though, and runs him off.
Can you see the young male on the far left, trying to sneak past the adult male on the far right?
Dang.
Below, a Grey Hooded Kingfisher.
The dark bird there is a Slaty Egret.
A Saddle-Billed Stork in flight.
Our final Stanley's Camp Impala!
Our luck was very definitely in. Do you see him?
How about now?
This gentleman had eaten hugely before choosing this tree for his nap. Look at how full his tummy was.
Because he was so stuffed, he had a really hard time making himself comfortable on the branch.
Heh. Leopardskin rug.
He tried a lot of different positions, trying to find someplace comfortable...
Handsome, handsome, handsome.
I love this yawn sequence.
Someone needs some tooth whitener. Who says Sabertooth Tigers are extinct?
He gave it up at last. He couldn't sleep. Either because his tummy was so full or because we were watching. Either way, he was one seriously annoyed kitten.
Viewing that leopard's modest manliness there, I thought perhaps now would be a good time to quote one of my very favorite authors...and tell the story of how the big cats received such pitiful um...packaging.
The story is, of course, one of Anansi's stories. Because all stories are. But this one was told by Neil Gaiman.
Anansi and Tiger
You know, one time I saw Tiger down at the water-hole: he had the biggest testicles of any animal, and the sharpest claws, and two front teeth as long as knives and as sharp as blades.And I said to him, “Brother Tiger, you go for a swim, I’ll look after your balls for you.” He was so proud of his balls. So he got into the water-hole for a swim, and I put his balls on, and left him my own little spider-balls. And then, you know what I did? I ran away, fast as my legs would take me.I didn’t stop till I got to the next town. And I saw Old Monkey there. “You lookin’ mighty fine, Anansi,” said Old Monkey.
I said to him, “You know what they all singin’ in the town over there?”“What are they singin’?” he asks me.“They singin’ the funniest song,” I told him. Then I did a dance, and I sings:
Tiger’s balls, yeah
I ate Tiger’s balls
Now aint nobody gonna stop me never at all
Nobody put me up against the big black wall
‘Cos I ate Tiger’s testimonials
I ate Tiger’s balls.
Old Monkey he laughs fit to bust, holding his side and shakin’ and stampin’, then he starts singin’ “Tiger’s balls, I ate Tiger’s balls,” snappin’ his fingers, spinnin’ around on his two feet. “That a fine song,” he says, “I going to sing it to all my friends.” “You do that,” I tell him, and I head back to the water-hole.
There’s Tiger, down by the water-hole, walking up and down, with his tail switchin’ and swishin’ and his ears and the fur on his neck up as far as they can go, and he’s snappin’ at every insect comes by with his huge old saber teeth, and his eye’s flashin’ orange fire. He looks mean and scary and big, but danglin’ between his legs, there’s the littlest balls in the littlest blackest most wrinkledy ball-sack you ever did see.
“Hey Anansi,” he says, when he sees me. “You were supposed to be guarding my balls when I went swimming. But when I got out of the swimming hole, there was nothing on the side of the bank but these little black shrivelled up good-for-nothing spider balls I’m wearing.”“I done my best,” I tells him, “but it was those monkeys, they come by and eat your balls all up, and when I tell them off, then they pulled off my own little balls. And I was so ashamed I ran away.”
“You’re a liar, Anansi,” says Tiger, “I'm going to eat your liver!” But then he hears the monkeys coming from their town to the water-hole. A dozen happy monkeys, boppin’ down the path, clickin’ their fingers and singin’ as loud as they could sing:
Tiger’s balls, yeah
I ate Tiger’s balls
Now aint nobody gonna stop me never at all
Nobody put me up against the big black wall
‘Cos I ate Tiger’s testimonials
I ate Tiger’s balls.
And Tiger, he growls, and he roars and he’s off into the forest after them, and the monkeys screech and head for the highest trees. And I scratch my nice new balls, and damn they felt good hangin’ between my skinny legs, and I walk on home. And even today, Tiger keeps chasin’ monkeys. So you all rememember: just because you’re small, doesn’t mean you got no power.
The original can be found in the book American Gods, by Neil Gaiman. I highly recommend it.
Below, a Maruca Sunbird. Sorry the picture quality is so poor...Sunbirds are very like what we call Hummingbirds.
And then, it was time to move on.
To Chief's Camp!
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