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.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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.
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.
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.
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