Written by Neil Harmse

Chapter 8. Concerning Rhino

At one stage, when I was doing wilderness trails for the Wilderness Leadership School, I was asked to do a promotional walking trail with a group of journalists and dignitaries to help raise funds for educational trails for underprivileged young people. Included in this group were Heidi Muller of the SABC German Service, Greg Marinovich (a photojournalist with The Star), Willem Pretorius (a journalist with the Afrikaans newspaper Beeld), as well as several other media people. This trail was conducted in the Pilanesberg Game Reserve wilderness area and, after a few hours’ walk, we had been fortunate in seeing a variety of game animals. Discussions on the importance and use of various trees and plants generated a lot of interest, and notes and photos were taken.

We had also seen a number of rhino middens and had interesting conversations about the differences between white and black rhinos.

While walking in single file along one of the game paths through moderately thick vegetation, I spotted a white rhino cow and calf making their way along the path towards us. The calf was just ahead of its mother, being directed by nudges of her horn, which is the norm for this species. There was a bit of a gap in the vegetation along the path and my thought was to move the party out of sight and out of the way until the rhino had passed on their way. I quickly moved the people behind a large tree about 15m off the path, but – with a photojournalist’s instinct for a sensational photo – Greg stepped into the path to take a picture. The sudden movement ahead of her startled the cow and she immediately broke into a charge directly at Greg. He was wearing a short, sleeveless waistcoat, with many pockets for all his photographic paraphernalia, and I managed to grab him by the back of his jacket and pull him into the bush on the side as the rhino cow went thundering past. Fortunately, she did not turn, but kept going with the calf, huffing and puffing like a steam train. Needless to say, everyone was shaken by this experience and we all needed a while to settle our nerves before moving on.

Two interesting stories in daily newspapers came from this experience, one by Greg titled Close Encounters of a Rhino Kind and another in Beeld by Willem titled Dapper Daan Word Bang Jan (“Brave Dan Becomes Frightened Freddie”). Amusing stories which could have been tragic.

The experience proved that in the bush, it is mainly the clients who need to be watched! Another incident I experienced concerning rhino was in the Timbavati Reserve bordering the Kruger National Park. That time, I was on a walking trail with a group of Technikon students. We had started out at first light to make our 

way to one of the waterholes, about 5-6km from our trail camp. A light drizzle and thin ground mist had set in, making the conditions cool to walk in and deadening sounds, but visibility was limited to short range. I spotted a white rhino cow with a half-grown calf about 30m ahead. The cow was lying down and the calf standing by her side. Because of the drizzle, we were all wearing some form of waterproof jacket, but I did notice that one of the young ladies had an umbrella folded up at her side. I had not given a thought to this when we set out, which turned out to be a mistake to be learnt from. The cow seemed reasonably restful and I maneuvered the group to sit just in front of a fairly large marula tree and squat down while we observed the rhinos from a distance.

The wind direction was a bit variable and the calf seemed rather nervous, but I knew that as long as the cow was calm, and we remained quiet, there should not be a problem.

The mist had lifted somewhat and the drizzle had become light rain. I was quietly describing the differences between the black and white rhino species when there was suddenly a loud ‘WHAP!’ behind me as the young lady opened her umbrella. This alarmed the cow, which was immediately on her feet and startled by the movement of this strange, round object in front of her. Up went her head, then down as she charged directly at us. I shouted to the group to get behind the marula tree, out of her line of sight. Fortunately, the cow and calf thundered past about 3m from us and kept going, presumably in search of a quieter place to rest.

This goes to show that a guide must carefully observe and anticipate anything a trailist may get up to!

Another similar incident occurred when I was on a trail with a group of senior high school students, also in the Timbavati. We had walked about 6km to Oppie Dam, a medium-sized waterhole situated north of our camp. On slowly approaching it along a gully, I saw a young rhino bull also approaching the dam from the west side. There was a broken tree stump which had long acted as a rubbing post, against which rhinos and buffalo enjoyed rubbing mud and ticks off their bellies and legs. Crouching in the gully, we observed the rhino’s behaviour with interest. One of the boys had a 35mm camera loaned to him by his father and asked if he could take a photo. I did not see any harm in this and thought a quiet click would be safe enough from our distance. I did not realise that the camera had an auto-rewind and was on the last two frames. Nothing happened with the first click, but on the second, everything went pear-shaped. The camera automatically started rewinding the film with a loud, whirring noise. The startled rhino spun around in a circle trying to find the source of this annoying sound and immediately charged in our direction. Fortunately, he could not see us so low down in the gully and turned off at its edge, then kept going along the side of the gully and into the bush ahead.

This again taught me a lesson about noisy contraptions such as auto-wind cameras, beeping alarms on electronic watches and, later, cellphones, which were all banned from my trails and had to be left in camp. And, of course, umbrellas!

Written by Neil Harmse

Chapter 7. Lion Problems

As previously mentioned, during the 1980s the southern Kruger Park boundary was continuously faced with problems caused by lions crossing. into private properties and killing livestock. Once these nomadic lions realised how easy it was to catch and feed on domestic stock, they tended to remain in the area and habitually prey on the animals. Once hunted, they realised that they were safe on the park side and would come through after dark to raid the cattle kraals or kill the livestock in the camps.

Sometimes these young lions tended to show ‘bloodlust’ with such easy pickings and would kill four or five animals in one attack. I realised that the only way of making contact with these killers would be by setting up a hide and waiting for them to return to their kill to feed again. They were always more suspicious when approaching a kill of a domestic animal than one of natural prey, so the hides had to be carefully sited and disguised, and movement kept to a minimum. With care, I could sometimes shoot two or three in a night. If that sounds unsporting, I must stress that it was not sport hunting at all, but an attempt to rid the area of killers causing financial loss to the farmers and the community.

We did try to dart, capture and then relocate some lions further into the park, as far north as the Satara area, but this did not work. Within a week or two, these same lions returned and were again killing stock. They became wary and would not return to a kill, so they then had to be followed on foot from a kill – which could be quite ‘hairy’, especially in the dark. My tracker, Petrus, was very steady in this work and could be relied upon to keep a spotlight trained on the lion, allowing me to pick a shot. For this, I used a rechargeable battery with a spotlight and red filter. Following lion at night through the bush is pretty hair-raising work and shots were normally at close range.

I remember one time when Petrus was down with malaria and I used a substitute tracker named Magagula. I had used him on hunts before with no problems, but this tracking in the dark was new to him. I carefully explained what to do and he seemed OK with it. We picked up a group of four young male lions moving back to the park at about 11pm and were following behind at about 15m when the light was switched on and trained on them. One of them stopped and turned to look back. I raised my rifle, ready to shoot – when Magagula’s nerves failed and he suddenly switched off the spotlight. I whispered to him to switch it on again, which he did,

but he simply flicked it on and off! Believe me, it is quite daunting standing in the bush in pitch blackness with lions a few metres ahead. Fortunately, the lions ran off and made their way back to the park. We never managed to catch up with them.

An amusing incident occurred with Magagula a few weeks later. I was driving along the road past the cattle kraals when I noticed something lying across the road. There was Magagula, drunk as a skunk, sprawled on the road with his bicycle beside him. I stopped and, in the headlights, picked up the spoor of three or four lions along the road and all around Magagula. They had obviously seen him lying there and, out of curiosity, sniffed and smelt all around him before moving off again. Fortunately, most lions are not man-eaters by nature and I think these ones were put off by the smell of beer! In his drunken state, Magagula was completely unaware of what had happened. I loaded him into the back of my Land Rover and dropped him off at the compound. The next morning, I collected him and took him to show him the tracks around where he had been lying. I must add, however, that even this did not cure his drinking.

A raider lion taken out.

Most of the lions which caused problems were young males, although occasionally a mature lion or lioness was also a culprit. On two occasions, a large cow was killed and partially eaten. Waiting at the kill brought no results: the lion did not return. From the tracks, we saw that the killer was a large, mature male which had been hunted before and was wary of returning to his kill. The third attempt on a late afternoon was foiled by a tractor driver who arrived at the kraal just as the lion was trying to get into it. The lion ran off and they radioed me to advise what had happened. When I arrived, I saw from the tracks that it was the same lion that had previously made the kills. The tracks were fresh and reasonably clear, and seemed to be heading to the river boundary of the park. Petrus suggested that we cut across and try to get ahead before the lion reached the river. We could then perhaps get a shot. So we set off at a fast pace to make up time.

We arrived at the section of the river bank where Petrus thought the lion would cross, but no tracks were visible. We moved back into the tree line and sat down to wait. It was not too long before Petrus pointed and indicated that he could hear the lion. I trusted his instincts, as he was seldom wrong, so I moved to get ready if I had to shoot. Sure enough, we spotted the lion moving towards us, seemingly unaware of our presence. I took careful aim at his chest as he came forward and as my shot struck him, he seemed to leap up and flip over. I gave him a second shot and he fell flat. This cattle-raider had reached the end of his career. 

Not long after this, the raids seemed to become fewer, with the lions apparently behaving themselves and although there were sporadic kills in other areas, I was happy to have some respite from shooting more of them.

I would just mention that most of my lion control work was done with a .375 H&H and although it is not a favourite calibre of mine, I found it ideal for cats such as lion and leopard. It did prove effective in having a shock effect on them and knocking them down.

Written by Neil Harmse

Chapter 6. Elephant Problems

During the early 1980s, I was kept rather busy with problem animals along the southern boundary of the Kruger National Park in the Malelane area. There was a serious drought in this region at the time and almost every animal seemed to find grazing, browsing or other food on the private farms and estates along the boundary of the park, where irrigation was implemented.

Lion were a particular problem during this period. The drought had caused a lot of fatalities among the game animals and left enough carcasses lying in the veld to provide ample meat for even the weaker young lions and cubs to survive and thrive. Normally, these would have succumbed to starvation.

As these lions matured, they were forced out of the prides by the dominant males and became nomadic, pushed from one area to another until they eventually migrated out of the park boundaries and found easy pickings among domestic animals such as cattle and goats in the border areas. Cattle losses were heavy, with half a dozen beasts sometimes killed in a single night. Understandably, the farmers were upset and I was constantly on call when lions raided their cattle.

Elephant, too, became a headache for farmers, as the agricultural estates offered a variety of food such as mangoes, litchis, citrus and sugar cane – all staunch favourites among elephant during this dry period. Every night these hungry giants would cross the boundary fence and enter the agricultural areas, causing extensive damage to the plantations and orchards. Mango and litchi trees, which take years to mature and produce their first crop, would be broken down and destroyed nightly.

Being highly intelligent animals, these elephants were exceedingly difficult to control. They knew they were trespassing and therefore only raided at night, returning at first light to the sanctuary offered by the park. There they would spend the daylight hours resting in the shade, dozing and digesting their food in safety, as they waited for nightfall and their next raiding session.

Trying to chase these raiders out of the plantations at night became quite a challenge. When they got in among the ripe mangoes, they were very reluctant to leave this delicious food source. I remember even resorting to the use of a shotgun loaded with number 8 or 9 shot in an attempt to teach them a lesson and persuade them that it was wiser to remain in the safety of the park – but to no avail. Quite often during these night raids, an elephant would be on one side of a large mango tree with me on the other side. As I moved around, so would the elephant and all I would be able to see were his legs moving around the base of the tree. In the dark, this ring-a-roses (or, rather, ‘ring-a-mangoes’!) was a very nerve -racking game.

One particular group of these raiders became quite bold and sometimes stayed until the early daylight hours, causing a great deal of damage – especially to the mature trees. These elephants also started to become aggressive and dangerous, chasing the staff who arrived early to begin picking or spraying. Consequently, it was decided that this group of animals would have to be permanently removed.

After much soul-searching, I obtained a permit to shoot this particular group before they injured or killed someone. I thought it would be an easy task, but that was not the case. It was a large estate and when the elephant raided a crop, I always seemed to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. It was almost as if they had ‘inside information’ about my whereabouts.

I tried to establish an intelligence network among the field workers and other staff to inform me of any sign of the raiders in the orchards, or of the boundary fence having been broken or crossed. After a frustrating few weeks, my luck changed and we located a group of three young bulls in an open area near the plantations, but unfortunately only about 300m from the Kruger Park boundary. This area had sparse vegetation with scattered acacia trees, gwarri and raisin bushes, as well as short grass.

We had to get closer without spooking the elephant into making a break for the park border. The wind was not in our favour, constantly shifting, and the trio were on the alert, ready to hurry back to their sanctuary. My companion was armed with a .375 H&H and I had my .404 Jeffery. We slowly circled, trying to get the wind in our favour. Attempting to stalk them in this open terrain, with sparse bush and shrubs and just a few acacia trees to give cover, was difficult. The elephants were bunched close together and showing signs of nervousness, their trunks raised and feet shuffling. I was worried that they would either rush for the boundary – in which case the opportunity for a shot would be lost – or they would spot us and charge. We made an awfully slow approach, stalking carefully from shrub to shrub and tree to tree, until we were about 25m away from them. I wanted to drop the first one dead in his tracks in order to leave us free to deal with the other two before they made a dash for the park fence. My plan was to try to get about 10m closer, which would put me in position for a brain shot, but suddenly a shot rang out from behind and to my left. That gave me a shock and I saw a puff of dust fly from the one bull’s head – too high to hit the brain. The bull immediately swung towards us, shaking his head from side to side, making it difficult to get a brain shot, especially from this range. Alerted now, the other two bulls broke away and ran towards the park boundary. I fired at the wounded bull and he seemed to rock backwards, but did not go down. Another shot from the .375 had no apparent effect and he started to follow the others. I decided to anchor him and fired for the point of his shoulder as he swung around. This stopped him, affording me an opportunity for a side brain shot – which instantly ended matters. He collapsed on his left side and never moved. The other two bulls disappeared into the park. Fortunately, they had either learnt their lesson or had opted for raiding other pastures further afield, because we had no further trouble from them.

Then the lions started up again!