Two Cases of Grand Larceny

The Thief

Grand Theft – Larceny

Ant is preparing dinner.

Ant, John and I had been shopping in Maun. Among other food items, Ant had purchased a string of 6 Farmers sausages. All tied together.

He intends to fry them, two each, along with ready made mashed potatoes,

(add water, whip well, butter in frying pan, put in mashed potatoes, fry till brown underneath, flip over, wait till they turn brown on underside.) Orange for desert.

Ant fires up the small two burner gas cooker.

The mash-browns are almost ready. Ant is getting the sausages ready.

It starts to rain. Not just a little.... within a minute it's pouring... we escape to the Cruiser and find refuge there.... we talk about all manner of things.

I keep looking at the cooking site, which is sheltered under a tarpaulin, strung from the Cruiser to a tree. The flame of the cooker is bluish.

Then Ant and I see the Hyena at the same time. She comes out from behind a dense bush.

Without a moment's hesitation, she trots up to the cooker, grabs a sausage and since they are still linked, the Hyena succeeds in taking off with all six sausages.

It all went so fast.

Ant barely has time to rip open the truck door, call the Hyena a few choice names, and the thief is gone. All six sausages with it.

The rain stops as abruptly as it started.

Ant, John and I sit on the Cruiser's running board, eating mashed potatoes.

I am certain that I can hear a Hyena laugh in the distance.

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

Unfortunately I was not fast enough to photograph the thief in action.

Spotted Hyena

A Spotted Hyena.

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Baboons like Onions?

This theft reminds me of another story of outright robbery.

We had just arrived at a campsite at “Third Bridge” in Okawango Delta's, Moremi National Park in Botswana.

John at "Third Bridge" in the Okawango Delta, Botswana

Our Guide, Klaus, born and bred in Berlin, Germany, but having lived in Botswana for many years, after having unloaded our gear, took the Rover to fetch some fresh water.

John said: “We'll pitch Camp in the meantime! Okay?”

“Yeah” Klaus answered, “just look after the onions.”

We had bought those in a small settlement on the way. Klaus had promised us his specialty:

Beef Stroganoff.

There were Baboons all around.

“These Babs will steal anything eatable” Klaus added.

All food was stored in a strong box, but the net bag with the onions was lieing on top of this container.

John and I proceeded to unroll the tents. We staked the corners to the ground, when I saw a big Baboon coming close to our onions.

He took one look at us, grabbed the onions and was off, toward the bush.

I was angry at myself that I could not do a simple thing like protecting a bag of onions from a marauding Baboon.

My rather sturdy tripos stood nearby. I grabbed it and, yelling at the top of my voice, 
I chased the Baboon into the bush. I waved my tripod and called him every dirty name in my repertoire.

The monkey looked around at me. He carried the onion bag in his 'hands' and ran upright on his hind legs only.

The net-bag broke, onions rolled onto the ground.

Greedy monkey stopped to gather the escaping onions.

I caught up and came to within meters of this formidable Baboon.

It occurred to me: “Now what do I do?”

The monkey dropped the bag, stood high on his hind legs and bared his fangs.

I got concerned. I did not want to get into a fight with a Baboon.

I waved the tripod and shouted some more insults at him.

The Monkey probably decided that these onions were not as good as they looked, turned and disappeared into the bush.

I grabbed the onions, took off my shirt to wrap them and proceeded the short distance back to our camp site.

John had seen the entire drama and laughed so hard, his sides hurt.

“Me Tarzan” I pronounced while pounding my chest.

Told upon his return, Klaus was not impressed.

“That” he said “was not a smart thing to do. In a fight with an adult Bab you would have lost. So, don't ever chase a Bab into the bush."

The Beef Stroganoff, with a double helping of fried onions for me, tasted absolutely delicious.

Well, Klaus was a good cook.

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

I turn to John: “Do you remember the onion stealing Baboon at Third Bridge in Moremi?

John starts to laugh: “How could I ever forget this story of sheer bravado?”

He turns to Ant: “You should have seen Bert, waving his tripod and calling the Bab a 'fucking onion thief' , a 'goddamn filthy monkey face' and several other choice words.

Ant feigns astonishment. “What? He called him a monkey face? What other kind of face should a Baboon have?”

We all laugh, although my laugh is a bit forced. It's coupled with some embarrassment.

Ant worries that there may be more rain. We quickly erect the large canvas tent with enough space for two. Ant has a plastic fly for his mosy-tent.

No sooner ready, than the rain comes back. We are well protected and slip into our bedrolls.

The rain drums an African rhythm on the canvas tent.

Next morning comes.

There is no sign of the previous night's rainstorm.

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

An almost cloudless blue sky promises new exciting adventures.