Thursday, December 1, 2011

Ellies


Ingwelala 2011
My favorite animal is the elephant – by far.  In South Africa they are usually called by their diminutive - ellies, which is a bit of a joke since they are huge – up to 6 tonnes.  They live in family units.  They are widespread in southern Africa and other parts of Africa, as well as on the Asian sub-continent.  African ellies are larger and generally not domesticated.
Ellie bulls are similar to human males in many ways – full of bravado and hot air. Elephant cows are to be wary of, especially when little ones are around.
Michael and I were canoeing the Zambezi near Mana Pools on our way to Mozambique.  We stopped for lunch on an island in the middle of the river.  The edges of the island were small cliffs from the river wearing away the sand.  We were just setting up a little table and emptying the coolers when an ellie popped out about 50 metres away from underneath a tree.  It looked at us as though deciding what we were.  It walked around the tree to the other side and gazed at us again.  Then back around the tree.  It stared at us and, without warning, ears went out, trunk went up with a loud trumpet (a terrifying sound so close), and it charged.
We were between a rock and a hard place or, to be more accurate, between an charging ellie and a river full of hippos and crocs.  For me it was a no-brainer.  The danger from the ellie was imminent; the danger from hippos and crocs in the future.  I started running for the small cliff.  Before I hurled myself into the water, our game ranger jumped in front of the elephant, shouted and waved his hands.  The ellie skidded (literally) to a stop, looked at us once more, and wandered peacefully away.
“How did you know it was going to stop?” we asked.  
Chobe, Botswana about 1986
"Young bulls usually make a mock charge!” came the answer.  It was the word “usually” that caught my attention.
Another time, I saw a small herd drinking at a water hole.  A tortoise was also wanting to drink and was headed between the legs of the ellie.  One female ellie gently nudged the tortoise away with its back leg.
And elephants have a sense of humour.
I go frequently to a game area called Ingwelala (Sleeping Leopard), which borders the huge Kruger National Park.  A few years a group of human teenagers were in a Land Rover watching a herd of ellies.  The humans were being very noisy indeed, as a result, no doubt, from an over indulgence of alcohol.  Eventually one older ellie got the hell in and wandered over to the Land Rover, picked up the front of the Land Rover by the bumper and dropped it.  It then repeated the exercise and wandered off.  The humans were shocked into total silence and crept away in fear and ignominy back to camp.
Ellies are posing a major problem in southern Africa at the moment.  Why?  Because there are far too many – possible twice as many as the reserves and available habitat can sustain.  In numbers, Botswana has an estimated number well over 50,000, possibly closer to 100,000.  When Michael and I visited the Linyanti on research for our third Detective Kubu book, we saw areas so devastated by ellies that a World War I scene could have been filmed there.  Of course, when the habitat is thus destroyed, the habitat for many other animals and birds is also destroyed.  So by saving the ellies, we are often killing other species.
Culling is a big no-no in the eyes of the West.  From our perspective, culling may be the only way to preserve the habitats.  Otherwise who knows what the consequences will be.
Here some photos that I have taken of ellies over the years. 

Ingwelala 2011
Ingwelala 2011


Ingwelala 2011
Ingwelala 2011

Ingwelala 2011

Ingwelala 2011



Ingwelala 2011

Chobe, Botswana 2011
Stan - Thursday

3 comments:

  1. Years ago, I saw a documentary at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History about a herd of elephants. At one point, one of the babies died. The photographer got terribly sad pictures of the mother trying to nudge her dead baby into some sort of activity. When the herd understood that the elephant was dead, the "women" surrounded the grieving mother, talking to her, rubbing their trunks on her back, behaving just like a group of human mothers caring for someone who has just suffered an unbearable loss. The only major difference was that no one was making endless pots of tea.

    Because those of us in the west don't have the opportunity to see animals in the wild as you do, we are quicker to ascribe human feelings and behaviors to wild animals as well as the domesticated ones we have in our homes. The idea of culling a herd and separating mothers and babies is a human reactions to a non-human situation.

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  2. Beth, if one were to cull Ellie's, one would kill an entire family for the reasons you gave. It would minimize the grieving.

    As an illustration that these are still wild animals, a friend of mine, sadly, was killed by an Ellie last week. He was very experienced in the bush. A cow which had been completely placid suddenly became aggressive.

    A couple of weeks ago, another friend was driving around the Addo National Park near where I live. He saw a tourist get out of his car to photograph a pride of lions. Fortunately the lions weren't hungry!

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  3. "Culling" seems a world-wide trigger word. In northwestern New Jersey the Ellie problem is pretty much under control, but bears are out of synch with what the habitat can sustain. An upcoming "bear cull day," though strictly licensed and restricted to specific areas, has political rallyists going full bore...so to speak.

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