It was November and our group was amidst our Trails Guide Course at NJ More Field Guide College. During this portion, we would do walking safaris often twice per day rather than driving a vehicle. We would choose a location, park our vehicle, and head into the bush. We always had a lead and backup who carried rifles, which was the instructor and camp manager, Stephanie. As students, we took turns in a mock version of these roles, carrying rifles with no ammunition, to become comfortable navigating safely with these firearms.
On this one particular day, we drove quite a distance from camp to an area we did not get to often. The other 2 girls decided not to join, as they didn’t particularly like this portion of the course. So, present was the instructor, Stephanie, and 4 students (the three boys and myself). I never carried a camera on me during trails as the intention is to observe and learn and not have close animal encounters. Photography for me would be a distraction. As we head in the bush, my partner was the mock guide and I was backup, therefore he lead the pack and I was last in line. The role of the back up is to ensure no one is left behind and keep watching for wildlife from the sides and behind.
At one point we stopped to have a listen. Sounds are big indicators of animal presence. It can be their animal calls, the alarm of certain birds in the presence of animals, breaking branches, or growls and other sounds. We could hear something. It was squeaking, but not the kind you often hear. This sound is unique and distinct, and possibly one of the cutest in the bush. It was a baby rhino.
Listen here to see experience the distinct sounds made by baby rhinos.
The danger that accompanies this sound is a protective mother with a massive horn on her face and no hesitation to use it. We were beside very thick bush that was too high to see over, and we knew this prehistoric pair was on the other side. We needed to go undetected at all costs! A careless move on a students part made us noticed by nearby zebra who started alarming at our presence. We all stood motionless watching to see if the Rhino mother would appear looking for the commotion. Thankfully she did not.
A male rhino then came into view, but due to their poor eyesight, and us standing still, he carried on his way and did not notice us. We decided that we needed to move away from this rhino and her youngster and perhaps we would look for the rhino who wandered through the area. Tracking animals using the signs of the bush is what we were there to do, so this all gives us invaluable experience. We carried on through the bush for a time, when we spotted the male rhino yet again, grazing. We stopped and watched.
As the back up trails guide, it is my responsibility to keep watch around the group while they enjoy the sighting. This typically would be the task the tracker would take on while the guide is explaining the sighting to guests. As I glanced all around, off in the distance I could see a couple of grey backs. There were trees and shrubs in the way so just those tops were visible. No sooner did I see this and alert the group with a wave and a point. Remaining silent was important because of the rhino. Just then a trunk appeared like a submarine periscope from the other side of those bushes. It was an elephant who was wasn’t looking – it was smelling, and the trunk was pointed in our direction. We have been blindly spotted.
The group huddled and listened. We need the bush to tell us what we cannot see. With visible rhino to the South, and elephants to our West, we now hear the break of branches Northerly behind us, and then again to the East. The instructor says ‘It’s a breeding herd and they are coming our way’. I am not sure there are many more things that could be as terrifying. Elephants do not like people on foot. And we have some big herds in Marataba. The instructor begins to look around, and then in a no nonsence, waste no time and do not argue tone, he instructs the rifle carrying backup to lead us South. She immediately begins to head that way with all of us in single file following behind. She turns to give the instructor, who is now at the back of the line of students, a hand gesture of a horn on her face. We were walking straight into the rhino! She gestures again with more urgency.
She knew the risks she was walking us into, so when the instructor urgently waved her to keep forging ahead, we knew the danger behind was greater than that in front. As a student in the middle of this communication, we could not see the imminent danger on either end, but knew we needed to be ready for anything. In your mind you remind yourself – watch for coverage, be prepared to climb, and for Gods sake, do not run! Fortunately we spooked the rhino and he ran off. One obstacle deterred.
We reached the road but we were too far to even see the vehicle we left at the start of our exploration. The instructor directed us behind a tree on the other side of the narrow, single lane, road. He said ‘get behind that big tree’. Looking back, I guess it seemed big at the time because it was the best there was. The boys and myself got in position, while our rifle holders took position on both sides of the tree. Just as we got in place, a massive bull elephant was upon us.
He stopped just short of the road behind a little bush directly in front of us. The instructor had raised his hands and rifle in the air and shouted at the elephant. It is critical, when you cannot escape the danger of the moment, that you stake claim to your territory. He spoke firmly and loudly to the bull a mere few meters in front of him. I have never felt so small in all my life. As he kept locked on the elephant, we were his eyes and ears for our surroundings. That’s when we see them. Elephants. Everywhere.
There is no way I can describe the next few minutes of my life. The range of emotions that would flood me would be incomparable to anything I had ever thought possible. The bull is becoming a little more brazen as he steps aside the bush and tests the humans across the road. Dozens upon dozens of elephants and their young stampede through the bush on both sides of us. They are scared because they have heard the hollering of man in the bush. As I watch, I see these little babies running amidst the herd, and in a panic I know losing footing and possibly getting trampled would not be impossible. I see how petrified they all are, and I know we are responsible. My mind is coming to the realization that we could be killed in the next few minutes. I might watch this bull get killed if he doesn’t stop testing us and back off. A baby might die trying to keep up with the group. And it was all because we went for a walk today. This just didn’t feel right to me. I didn’t know which of these scenarios would be worse.
Quite a few minutes passed before the all the elephants made their way past. Once they were gone, the bull gave a couple more minutes of engagement with our instructor, before he finally moved off. It became clear he was holding us hostage to ensure the safety of the others. He wasn’t looking to make trouble, but rather prevent trouble. When all was clear, we moved to a spot where we were a bit more open, and able to sit and regroup. The adrenaline that had been rushing through us was now gone and exhaustion set in. Emotionally drained, a tear rolled down my cheek. I realized that day I would not have shot that elephant if it came down to it. I could never. This was the day I decided not to walk my final trails exam to become a certified lead trails guide, even though I passed my exam and completed the hours and encounters. I never wanted to be in a position to be faced with the choice to shoot an animal or risk the lives of others. I would never forgive myself either way if I did.
As we sat there, reflecting, a group of male bull elephants wander onto the road nearby. Ordinarily this would require immediate reaction and response from us. However, after what we had just been through, we all just watched them without care or concern. Amazing how experiences, perspectives and no adrenaline left in your system will change how you see things. This was one for the book of most memorable moments in my life.