In the Masai Mara! Part 2

It turned out, after all, to be a good day.

After our lunch break in the shade of a huge 'Yellow Fever Thorn tree' we continued our drive. … slowly.

The sun was high and the day was hot. We had brought a good supply of a lemony tasting drink with us and, although it too was getting warm, it was still refreshing.

There was a wonderful group of Wildebeest and an Impala behind them.

There were Elephants nearby, elegant Vervet Monkeys, aggressive Baboons.

Early in the afternoon, Glad motioned for a stop. She pointed to about

11. O'clock on the imaginary dial. Excitement was written on her face.

„Look! … over there“ she almost whispered. „a group of Cheetah... little ones too!“

Mahmoud had seen them too and brought the vehicle to a stop.

„We close enough?“ he asked.

„For the moment we are.“ I said. „I will use my tele lens first and then we can try to get closer“

It was a fantastic sight.

Mahmoud also was excited:

„Cheetah has four young ones. Not often has four young ones survive. She must be good mother.“

„Try to get a little closer“ I asked.

We were on a soft decline. Mahmoud slipped the gear into 'neutral' and, without having started the engine, we silently rolled closer, on a parallel level to this beautiful picture of contentment.

This is 'The Cheetah Picture' to end all 'Cheetah Pictures.'

(in my humble opinion.)

Having taken 4 rolls of Kodak, one at 25 ASA, two at 64 ASA and one at 200 ASA.

I felt I'd had enough images to be happy about and to be proud of.

(yes, that's the way it was in those ancient days of Photography: 36 images on a roll and no changing the ASA , or, as it's called today the ISO setting during a roll.)

For a little while we lingered, using our binoculars and then Glad said:

„Let's call it a day. Let's go back to the Lodge. Nothing could be more beautiful than what we have seen. Let's call it a day“ she repeated.

And, having witnessed Nature in the raw, we drove back silently to our 'civilized' temporary home.

Having arrived at the Lodge, we unloaded my camera gear and agreed with our guide:

„Same time tomorrow!“ I said.

Mahmoud laughed: „Okay, same time t'morrow. No extra charge.“

“Maybe I should stay home”. Glad said. “Tomorrow can't be as beautiful as it was today.”

“It'll be even more beautiful!

So we leave at Sunrise. Okay?” I said.

With a wry smile, Glad said: “Okay, t'morrow. Same place, same time, no extra charge.”

And with a smile on her face, she fell asleep and slept an hour, til I woke her, 'twas time for dinner.

Now there's a difference between sleeping on the ground in a mosy-tent, eating grub, or staying in a very expensive Lodge, eating dinner, prepared by a French Chef.

Glad appeared, having had a refreshing shower, in a light bluish to lilac colored dress, silver-gray hair, tightly cropped. We strolled into the dining area and took our reserved seat.

“That's the way I like it.” Glad grinned.

“A glass of french Champagne, to start with” said the white clad waiter, as he put two glasses of this bubbly on the table.

“I shall be back to take your order shortly” he continued.

This is what we finally ate:

Greetings from the Chef, (tiny delicacies: Truffles with caviar, etc)

A small bowl of Soupe a l'oignon

A small plate of 'Composed Salad' ( given the choice we chose to have Salad before the main course)

Coq au vin ( from tender young Guinea Fowl??)

Chocolate Souffle

All of it washed down with a bottle of Chardonnay from the Napa Valley

“Do you always eat like this when you go on Safari with the boys?” Glad asked with a broad smile on her face.

“Of course, we do” I replied with the most serious face I could muster. “ Except the wine is usually from France or, better still, from South Africa.

The night was spent on a 'just right' soft/firm mattress.

After breakfast, Mahmoud appeared eager at 6.00 AM. He seemed excited.

We no sooner had shaken hands and loaded his vehicle with the ample lunch, provided and packed in cooler boxes by the Lodge, then he, bubbling over with enthusiasm, said:

“Large herd of Wildebeest come to Mara River. Say about ten thousand or more.

Will be there noon. I know best place to see crossing of Wildebeest. You wanna go there?”

“What a question” Glad said.

“Of course we wanna go there. How long is the drive?” I asked.

“Mebbe one hour, mebbe one hour and a half. Road Okay. Not allowed drive cross country. Must stay on road. Only last kilometer or two off road.”

“Let's not waste time.” I said. “Let's go”

Glad and I got into our usual seats: Glad beside the driver, I on the back seat for space and ease to stand up to photograph through the opened roof canopy.

The drive took almost two hours. A stop here and a stop there, because I just simply had to photograph those two disagreeing Elephants, or that Zebra and Giraffe.

When we finally got there, Mahmoud parked our Landrover under the

shade- offering canopy of a fig tree, right on the precipitous edge of the Mara River's shore line.

A cool drink of Gin and Tonic... much, much more Tonic than Gin...and we settled down to await the promised avalanche of Wildebeest.

Glad told Mahmoud that we had eaten 'Guinea Fowl' yesterday.

He frowned: “Hope 'twas young, very young bird”

“Oh yes”, Glad said. “It was tender and juicy”

“I have good recipe for 'Ginney Fowl' Mahmoud added:

Upon Glad's questioning look he told us:

Put water in big pot.

Light fire .. let water boil...

Pull feathers from Ginney Fowl

take out innards.

carefully put Ginney Fowl into boiling water.

Let boil for one hour.

Take rock, size of your fist

Put rock into boiling water.… let boil for one more hour.

Pour out water

Throw away Bird

Eat rock!!!

Mahmoud laughed till tears ran down his leathery face.

“That's a good one.“ said Glad and then she added:

“There are some gray looking animals, off in the distance.”

“Oh yes,” Mahmoud said. “that's Wildebeest we been waiting for.”

And on they came. By the thousands.

The first-comers hesitated at the river's edge. There was some moving sideways, some pushing from behind. Much bleating and calling.

Finally the first one took the dangerous leap. Others followed. The wild struggle to reach the opposite shore began. There was a relatively narrow Hippo trail. Lower down there was a vertical, sometimes even overhanging wall.

Many did not make it the first time. Some of those became victims of Crocs.

Vultures sat atop the drowned bodies. Crocs and Vultures were having a field day.

After about two hours the majority had crossed.

The noise from the Wildebeest's bleating and calling was almost deafening.

Those, which hesitated for an instant at the water's edge, were pushed into the river by those behind them.

It seemed to be total chaos!

Sometimes I lost sight of where one animal ended and the other began.

Hundreds of Vultures had gathered. (there are over 50 in this picture alone.)

There was a calf, still on the other shore.

We could see it calling, even if we did not hear it over the general noise.

There also was a cow. Having successfully crossed, she stood at the bottom of the Hippo trail, always looking back.

There were fewer and fewer of the animals left on this side of the Mara river..

Most had crossed, some few had drowned, some where taken by Crocs.

“I don't believe it,” Glad said. “She is returning. Swimming back over this Croc infested river.”

“Does the instinct to protect your own sit that deeply” I asked.

“It must” Glad said.

The cow swam back for her off-spring. Once there, she nudged the calf in front of her into the river. She kept herself always between the calf and the downriver side.

Now and then she seemed to bury her head into the calf's side, pushing her in the right direction.

Life was over there by the Hippo trail.

Down below, the vertical shore, Crocs and hundreds of vultures spelled death.

Both Wildebeest made it to the other shore.. For a while they rested in the mud churned up by thousands of those which went before them.

Then, cow and calf, mother and child, found their way out of the mud and joined the rest of their kin on the long trek for greener pastures.

This emaciated cow had swum back for her calf .

a short rest for the calf in the mud of the Hippo trail

Wildebeest from the river bank to the horizon.

Witnessing this struggle for survival, Glad cried unashamedly and I could not talk, because there was a big knot in my throat.

“I want to go home.” Glad said.

Even Mahmoud felt that such an adventure might be a great ending for a day-long Safari.

We were silent on the way back to our Lodge. Only now and then did we point to a particularly beautiful or interesting sight.

“What about tomorrow?” Mahmoud asked,”

“Tomorrow you will please drive us to Nairobi” I said.

“Our this year's Safari, unfortunately, is over.”