In the jungle…the mighty jungle….the lion sleeps tonight….

I’ve spent the last 2.5 days in the Lewa maze with the rangers. It has been riddled with the kind of escapades that field stories are made of; the ones that generate a mutual understanding of what is wild. Traipsing through the African landscape behind the head field ranger, Nkoori, I know I’m lucky to be following his every move as he reads the world around us. I’ll try to explain…

Starting at the crack of dawn, its cold and damp from the morning dew. I’m freezing. I take off my toque – yes, I slept with it on – and get ready with a quick breakfast as I listen for the vehicle heading down the road to pick me up. No one else is awake, and I don’t blame them for there is no reason to shiver as I am and its really best to wait for the morning sun to start the day. As the sun slowly rises, I see the security guys and this morning it’s a little different as we communicate between our language barrier and I come to excitedly understand that I’ll be driving! It’s a land cruiser, 4x4 drive, and by now I know the road conditions are going to make this a lot of fun! It’s a standard transmission, and the steering is on the right…..I remind myself that if another vehicle comes down the road – stay to the left side.

The rangers tell me which roads to take, and I see we are on the government road that cuts through Lewa. Its about 6:45am and out of nowhere, I hear kids laughing and yelling something in Swahili. The rangers tell me “brake, brake”, and I stop. About 20 or so school kids jump in the back and its off to school we go! I’m driving, driving, driving….and I’m noticing that this is where the expression “I used to walk to school for 1.5 hours uphill each way…in the hail, etc.” comes from; this is pretty much exactly what these kids have to do. We drop them off and they giggle as they look in and realize it’s not who they expected that was driving the whole time.

I look at Nkoori for the next lag – since I pretty much have no idea where we are, nor where we are going. He gets on the radio to talk to the rhino monitors in the field and gives me a hand signal to go with speed. And we’re off again….

For two days we have been looking for a newborn rhino calf deep in the Ngare Ndare forest that marks the southern border of Lewa. This calf is less than a week old and the strategy is to push the mother out just enough to catch a glimpse of the little one. Some photos of the baby would ensure it’s a healthy individual….perhaps with high hopes for the rhino population of the world.

Just a day ago we were close, very close. Wearing some of the rangers camouflaged gear, I am very careful not to make a peep as Nkoori and I communicate with hand and eye signals only. We run from tree to tree as the mother is nearby, watching us, but we rely on the fact that she can’t see us very well. At this time, its hot. The Kenyan sun is beating down on us with fierce rays that I’m sure is stabbing through the heavy camo gear to give us sunburns. Nkoori signals to me to take a photo of the mother’s ears for id purposes. I snap away, but quickly realize what a mistake that was. The shutter on my camera is too loud and the mother is now upset with us.

This reminds me of just a few hours prior on this day, Nkoori thought it best I didn’t follow him to see a different rhino. The reason was the rhino was known to be aggressive and a little crazy – his words, not mine – and the landscape didn’t offer much cover, except to run up a very prickly acacia tree. I look around now as I hear the mother rhino huff and chuff and stomp around in anxiety at us at what seems to be a thunderous shutter on my camera. I feel terrible about this, and I look at Nkoori apologetically but it works out as the mother comes close to us and suddenly takes a 90 degree turn and bolts the other way. I thought polar bears were intimidating…but a large nervous female rhino within 50 ft of us is just as daunting…

Taking the opportunity of the mother’s absence, we scout out the area frantically looking for the baby rhino. Unfortunately, our efforts come up empty despite the signs of dung and other sure markings of its presence.

Back to the second attempt at finding the baby rhino in the wee hours of the morning, I sit next to the rangers high on a hill and we observe every tree and rock across the other side to see something, anything, which might indicate where the little one might be.

We do this for a good hour; the rangers get on the radio with rhino monitors on another hill and make a plan to head in anyways. We walk, and walk, up and down, across thorny bushes, in tick-ridden fields. The ticks are surprisingly not as annoying anymore and I find myself getting used to just picking them off and throwing them in touchdown-style. After doing this one time, I happened to look over at something that caught my eye. It moved the grasses. There is something there, something unexpected. I look closer….this is what I see….


Just another part of the African landscape. I look at the rangers, they smile and nod as I take a picture. And we move on. I watch the rangers and remark how similar they are at reading the landscape to the First Nations people of Canada. Its remarkable, using the same techniques to read the topography, while ensuring we are downwind of dangerous animals. Both cultures are adept at using all aspects of the natural world to protect us.

One thing that is remarkable here that I haven’t seen anywhere else is the ability of the rangers to go an entire day without food or water, or relief breaks. I try to match them in this so I don’t slow them down and it seems almost taboo to even say anything about hunger or thirst. I haven’t figured that part out quite yet but its impressive not needing anything during the day with all the hiking through difficult terrain under the spicy sun.

Its now the end of the day, almost dark and I know the day’s work is coming to an end since we can’t do much at night. Nkoori is back behind the wheel and I notice he is not heading back to headquarters. I think I am just lost and not reading the roads right, but something in me tells me my gut is right. We head into an area that I’m sure is not anywhere near home. I ask the rangers what might be happening, they tell me to look up and notice the vultures around. We are following them.

The birds lead us into thick shrubbery, and the scene of the crime is revealed. A lioness has taken down an eland and is resting with her cubs nearby. We approach slowly and I’m speechless. I snap away photos with my piercing camera, and come to the conclusion that there is no other place I would rather be then amongst the wilds of the African jungle.