Animal Encounter Category—Silver Winner: Safari Night
by Nancy O’Connell
An unearthly pitched shriek pierced the night. Our soup spoons stopped in midair. The cry of distress was close, a few yards away. Thousands of miles from America and all that was familiar, we’d just begun our dinner. Now we fell silent. What was happening?
Just beyond our patio wall a baby elephant had toppled over. It lay, sprawled and helpless, in a few feet of water. The mother shrieked again, a high keening wail, and several elephants lumbered forward. Quickly they formed a protective circle around the infant. No lion or leopard could have broken through that wall of solid elephant flesh. Almost in unison, seven trunks acted as one, and the baby was scooped up, set on its four legs, while the mother carefully nudged her baby to dry land. The keening wail stopped. The baby nursed, and the crisis was over.
In the bright moonlight we had to pinch ourselves. We were really here! On a photographic safari. We’d just witnessed the miracle of a baby’s rescue in Kenya, Africa.
After we finished dining about 9:30 PM, my roommate, Meg, and I wandered back to our rondeval, built in the shape of a round hut, which is typical of many native dwellings in this amazing country so near the Equator. Ours was the furthest out in a long row, each hut completely separate from its neighbors. As we opened the door with our key, she screamed and pointed to a gecko scampering up our wall.
“Let’s capture it and throw it outside,” Meg suggested, hoping I’d take action.
“I’ve heard they protect us,” I shrugged off my jacket and laid it on the bed. “They’re good at catching insects like mosquitoes. Might keep us safe from malaria.”
“We’re both taking pills for that. No need to let that creature stay in here.” She grabbed at the gecko, but it scurried up to the ceiling and looked down on us, its tiny eyes gleaming in the soft light.
“Let it be,” I said. “Perhaps it will bring us good luck.” A few minutes later I told her, “I have to go out and check on Alicia. She’s not feeling well at all.” I’d brought several people with me from California and felt responsible for each of them.
Grabbing my jacket, I left and walked past about thirty rondevals until I reached the main dining area. I’ll buy some bottled water and take it to Alicia, I thought. Ask if she needs anything else. The night staff seemed surprised to see me, but sold me the water, and I started back down the long pathway.
Suddenly I saw outlined against the darkness two motionless tall figures, red blankets draped over their shoulders. Their hair, dyed a bright red, hung in several long braids down their backs. The men held long spears, and they were both over six and a half feet tall. Startled, I glanced at them with a tingling of fear. What were they doing here?
My heart pounding, I hurried to Alicia’s rondeval and knocked on her door. Her husband answered and I found her curled up in bed, very uncomfortable with a bad case of “Tourista” - diarrhea and cramping. “I feel so sick. I think I should go home,” she groaned.
“But this is only our second night in Kenya! It must be some fresh fruit you ate in Nairobi before our drive here,” I protested. “You’ll soon be fine. We’ve only seen a few giraffes in the wild and baboons sunning themselves. Weren’t you excited by the elephant’s rescue we saw?”
Alicia nodded her head weakly. “That was amazing. Bob, what do you think?” She turned to her husband.
“If you’re better by tomorrow I’d like to go on. I haven’t even seen my first lion. No photos for our children yet, Alicia.”
“I have some strong medicine back in my room,” I offered. “The doctor prescribed it for what you ‘re fighting. I’ll bring you a day’s supply.” I let myself out of their room and headed back to our rondeval. I could see the river shining in the moonlight just 20 or 30 feet away to my left. There’s nothing separating me from exploring that area. No fence, no barrier of any kind.
I stopped for a moment when I saw some movement. Bushbucks and kudus were drinking at the water’s edge. That river must attract all sorts of wild creatures to it. I wonder what those elephants were so afraid of earlier? Do lions and leopards come to the river to drink also? The wind cut through my jacket and ruffled my hair. The temperature had dropped as soon as night had fallen. I shivered as I reached our door, unlocked it and greeted my roommate.
“Are you and the gecko friends yet?” I joked as I rummaged in my bag for the medicine.
Meg looked up from her guidebook and grinned sheepishly.
“I’ll take this medicine to Alicia,” I held up the bottle. “Hope it helps. By the way, there are two tall, tall natives standing down by the dining hall. They scared me. Don’t know what they’re doing there.”
I left again and glanced over towards the river. Was that a moving shadow over there? Something big? A wildebeest? A cape buffalo? Bent over, drinking. I hugged myself against the cold wind and almost ran down to Alicia’s room. “Here are the pills. I hope they cure you. At the next stop we’ll place a call for a flying doctor if you’re not on the mend.” I felt her forehead and added, “You don’t have a fever. So perhaps it’s only the 24-hour kind of bug.”
As I left her rondeval I decided to pick up some bottled water for Meg and myself. We were using it even to brush our teeth and were nearly out. Wandering down to the big dining hall I bought another bottle. Beginning the long trek back to our room, I again noticed the red-robed men standing at attention near the entrance.
I shivered, not from the cool night air, but from fear. Their mysterious presence alarmed me. I walked back to my quarters, glancing over my shoulders once or twice. I heard a rustling in the tall, dry grass. A quiet movement. Then silence. I glanced towards the river. Where were all the creatures that had been drinking earlier? Strange. All had vanished.
I heard the rustling again. My heart beat wildly. I saw a form crouched low, ready to pounce. A big cat! Slinking towards me in the tall grass.
I raced for my room, twisted the key with trembling hands, and opened the door. Just in time!
The two tall statues had come to life. They ran behind me, their feet soundless on the path, spears raised. “Lion! Lion!” they called to me as I ducked into my room. Slamming the door shut, I leaned against it, breathing heavily.
Meg looked up from her book. “What took you so long?” she asked.
I listened to that gecko skritching against the wall, its movements quick and eager, until I fell asleep. It deserved to live out its life to the fullest. I smiled to myself. I had spared its life, and now my own had been saved by two tall mysterious warriors. In Kenya, as in most of Africa, life and death are two sides of the same coin. We would both live to see the sunrise.
Sidebar: The next day I learned that the two tall strangers were from the Samburu tribe, closely related to the Maasai. The young men were warriors or Lmurran. Only after they become
warriors are they allowed to dye and braid their hair and paint their bodies.
Nancy O’Connell is a writer living in Pleasanton, CA.
