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Thursday, April 16, 2020

Adventure at "Third Bridge"



In the Okawango Delta

Adventure at Third Bridge.

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My friend and companion, John,
at 'Third Bridge' in Moremi National Park, Okawango Delta, Botswana.




'Third Bridge', much shorter than 'Fourth Bridge' crosses a narrow brook-like water way in the Moremi N.P. In the Okawango Delta in Botswana.
Our guide, Klaus, originally from Berlin, but having lived in Botswana for the past ten years drives his Landrover slowly and carefully along barely visible tracks.


We find, of course, the almost obligatory "Yellow billed Hornbill"




"Oh  yeah?" says John, You showed me one Hornbill, I'll show you two! 


All kinds of Tree Squirrels, scamper up and down trees. 
They're playing 'Catch" Klaus said.
It truly looks that way: One squirrel chases the other up or down a tree.
When they collide, their chatter sounds more like laughter
and the 'caught' becomes the 'catcher'
"Talk about kids" John remarked.



 Then there are two 'White-throated Bee-eaters" 
behaving in Unison as if they were 
members of the Ziegfeld Girls.




                  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~




There is a small clearing ahead,” Klaus informs John and me, “We'll stop there for a while and have a bite to eat.”
As we get there, we find the clearing occupied by three Lions. One, an older one with full, dark brown mane, and two younger males.
The two young ones slowly circle the older and seem to harass him relentlessly.
The full maned one turns slowly on his own axis, to keep the two young ones always in sight.
Then the two jump into an attack. Is it real, or is it just a 'pretend-attack'?
I think it's real. There is a lot of growling and slapping at each other.
Finally it seems that the Old male is getting tired of this nonsense and with a ferocious howl, he slaps each of his tormentors with his powerful paws. A right to one and a straight left to the other. It's a fight! Two against one.
Finally they seem to call it quits, all three of them wandering off into the bush.






We spend the afternoon, cruising slowly, observing great numbers of colorful birds,
four Warthogs, (or are they Bushpigs?)  Baboons in the fig trees, and a family of Waterbucks.







a Waterbuck in a most beautiful pose and setting.


and, as a payoff, three female Waterbucks.

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I think there might be some rain tonight. So we had better put up the two-men canvass tent.” Klaus suggests.
Since it is just the tail end of the rainy season, a short-lived shower is a decided possibility.
Again, John and I share the big Canvass, while Klaus spreads a rubberized cover over his mosy.

There is no rain, and we open the little flaps, high up on opposing walls, for a cross breeze.
After a short conversation about the three Lions of this afternoon, we both fall asleep.



**********************

At first I hear it as if from far off.
With a jolt I wake up and hear the roaring of Lions close by. Very close by.
One can clearly differentiate the low, powerful roar of the older Male, and the snarling and somewhat higher pitched roaring of the younger ones.

Holy cow!” John calls out as he sits up. “What in hell is this?”
The roaring and snarling is now so loud, that our chests literally vibrate.
I am truly serious. This is not a figure of speech.
My chest vibrated along with the low pitched, high decibel sound of each roar.
Amid all this carry-on I hear Klaus calling: “Stay in your tent! Don't come out!”
I think: “I wouldn't come out if you paid me for it. “

This is likely the fight of the two young Lions against the older one.” John suggests.
The snarling and howling finally seems to recede, comes from further and further away, until, at last, it stops.

At dawn we carefully leave our canvass and inspect the tracks left by the three combatants. They are within a foot or two from out tent.
One can clearly see tracks on one side of the tent's guy wires and then on the other.
That those three 'rowdies' did not push over our canvas is a small miracle.
We, including Klaus, could only guess at the reason for this fight.






One of the two younger of the combatants.
No Photographs are available of the night-fight.
I was too afraid to even peak out of our tent.

( : - ))


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