Their Impudence & Lawlessness Label Baboons As The Mafia Of The Animal Kingdom...Find out why?

Bush Mafia

In Sabiepark a division of sickle-tails serve under an aggressive, limping “godfather”. The ringleader and his 100 marauders – a powerful “cosa nostra bush-tra” – conduct a type of terrorism in our normally peaceful, law-abiding community.

Troops of plunderers break in, looking for food, and cause a mess in our homes. Their ill-smelling “souvenirs” are strewn among broken eggs, mashed paw-paw, sugar, flour, cookies and torn plastic bags. To clean up, is a thankless, back-breaking task, that could last for hours. The cheekiest ones grab food from the defenceless hands of women and children. Destructively, they break radio aerials from cars. They ruin roofs; that is probably the most malicious of all their misdeeds. Costs runs into thousands of rands per year – ask me!

The aroma of ripe marula, or just plain vandalism, lures baboons onto the roofs

Twice, the roof of Tarlehoet was their target. The first time, the insurers regarded it as a huge joke and paid with a smile. “Baboon damage to your roof, ha-ha.” When the miscreants shortly afterwards dug a hole as large as a moon-crater in the thatch, the men of the yellow umbrella were no longer amused.

Originally, the entire roof was covered with netting wire. The wire was removed – on “sound” advice – to protect the thatch from rotting leaves. After the second attack. the wire blanket was replaced post haste. Baboons are more dangerous than leaves. QED.

The Mafia fears nothing

Some of the most daring, push and shake our doors and windows, even when they see one sitting inside. “Ouma Marietjie” was a petrified prisoner when the limping ringleader with an open wound on its leg did everything in his power to break into our house. He looked her straight in the eye, while moving threateningly from door to window to door, trying to find a weak spot. Naïve souls keep on believing that baboon attacks can be warded off by placing toy rubber snakes strategically around the house. Wake up, dear friends. Tokkie thinks that the baboons of Sabiepark are so educated, that they can tell in an instant: “This little snake was bought at Game, that one at Pick-and-Pay.”

No, Sabieparkers have learnt the hard way: if you leave your house, lock up. All doors and windows must be secured. Properly. A half-open window is an invitation to disaster. Practical experience has also taught that a refuse container that has not been baboon-proofed (a contraption that does not permit the lid to be raised if you don’t have the know-how) is looking for trouble. Unfortunately, the secret code of the reinforced refuse bin lid seems to have been cracked by some. Watch this space.

The most careful owners suffer along with the rest. The sickle-tails of Sabiepark are not “baboons”. Their techniques are cunning and intelligent. It bears the stamp of hardened criminals from Gauteng. Determined burglars would knock on clasps and locks with endless patience, until the catch is sprung. To slide open the gauze frames is then child’s play to them. Forced entry is nowadays even gained by breaking window panes – that is the latest, very ominous development.

Kapous and Leonora Mouton of Vreklekker are among many Sabieparkers who can relate baboon stories that are definitely not “vrek lekker” (NOT delicious)! One could be called The secret of the missing spectacles. These spectacles disappeared one day, when Kapous negligently left them lying outside. After a thorough search, he had to resign himself to its loss, plus at least R1 500, the cost of a new pair of bifocals. As someone who, after all the bother, could still maintain a sense of humour, he expressed the hope that the new owner would be able to now read his favourite daily paper!

On their next visit, two months later, Leonora heard a shuffling noise at their lapa. A new torch with fresh batteries was immediately directed at the noise. In its ray appeared a warthog and, lower down, two extra “eyes” – too small to present a threat. Could it be glow worms? No, they were not glow worms, nor any other living creatures. It was Kapous’s spectacles, nothing less. It had been tossed into a shrub. The baboon must have realised: even a baboon wearing a pair of glasses would still not be a thing of beauty. One of the lenses had a deep scratch that polishing could not remove, and one of the nose pads was broken. But Kapous could still manage to read his paper again. His smile was back.

Another baboon story concerning the Mouton family, can be titled A day to remember at Vreklekker

It was told by an amused Kapous: “When I approached the house, I saw plastic bags, paper, etc. all over And I saw my wife, flabbergasted, dejected, and not in a good mood. I asked: Mother, were the baboons inside?

“ ‘Come and see for yourself.’ There was pain in her voice.

“It was enough to make you cry. Nay, not cry, lament! Cry is heartache with tears. Lament is a remorse, a suffocation like a battery with its acid boiling over.

“Chaos, as far as the eye could see: broken eggs, brown sugar, cookies, the pips for the duiker. The place was strewn with torn plastic bags and those pertinent ‘trade-marks’ were left in no fewer than 11 places. I had to wonder: did they force themselves to defecate, in order to empty their bowels, or did they first eat and then let go? Where to start cleaning?

“ ‘Everything has been eaten. Only one tin of biscuits was spared – the lid was taped,’ my wife proclaimed in exasperation.

“But the heavenly Father gave us a sense of humour. I could see in my mind’s eye how a youngster grabs the little bag of mealies. He is chased by another. The bag split open. Mealies everywhere.

“Just one window in the kitchen was partly open. They tore the upper part of the gauze. We cleaned from 12:30 to 17:30.

“A friendly warning: “Lock EVERYTHING, don’t only close. And don’t underestimate their intellect and resourcefulness. I am convinced they are intelligent – above average – in fact, talented!”

“Eventually we regarded the day as a day of goodwill. A day to forgive our neighbours, who had prior rights to the bush. Long live the baboons!”

Kapous certainly deserves a medal for humour, and another for patience. My own ability to forgive and my patience are not of the same lofty standard. After November 1997, it would never be. The first entry by a mafioso that we suffered, was when we were still would-be buyers. The uninvited guest simply strolled in through the sliding door, which I had left open – through ignorance. Fortunately, he made off with only a paper bag full of peels. Afterwards Tokkie teased me – wondering which baboon had the biggest fright when the two of us met in the dining room. I did not think it was funny.

A real, full-blown baboon onslaught, with all its disadvantages, was not long in coming. Only a few months later, a team of them went through our home “like a dose of salts”. We noticed the first ominous signs along the road on our way back home from the picnic spot. The hundreds of tracks in the sand sent cold shivers through us, especially when Tokkie drew my attention to the direction in which the toes pointed. Tarlehoet, here we come!

Reaching home, the first clue that all was not well was the upended refuse bin (at that time not yet with armour). In the swimming pool was a huge branch of the marula tree. A pile of leaves floated on the water. On the stoep were broken candle-sticks. Charcoal and pips were scattered all over. The plastic stoep furniture had been upended. The lid of the iron pot was thrown off. The cell phone which was hidden in the pot, fortunately escaped notice. Even Sabieparks’ baboons know nothing about voice-mails or sms’s.

Inside the house real chaos reigned

The experienced burglars had evidently hammered a window until the clip gave way. Then it was easy to bend open the gauze frame. The contents of the dirt bin in the kitchen was emptied on the floor. Kitchen shelves were emptied and drawers pulled out. Bread and biscuits were half consumed. The bananas for the bushbabies had been enjoyed for dessert. The peels were strewn all over. While they were at it, they used the floor as ablution facility. Then we arrived. In the intruders’ panic to get out, a further two gauze frames were torn from their hinges.

News travels fast. Within ten minutes personnel from the office were there to collect the broken frames. They wanted to know whether they should send a team of cleaners. We declined, we would do the job ourselves. But the Van Deventers were angry. Rogues! Hooligans! Bastards! These were the most civilised swear words I could remember. Our mood did not improve when, after cleaning up, we wanted to have a dip in the pool – but Satan then made us wonder whether the intruders had not been in the water. If so, surely they would have done what no decent person should do in a swimming pool.

The wish to cool off was overwhelming, however. We closed our eyes and took a plunge. Only the next morning the water was let out and replaced with fresh water. We were still feeling bitter, but came to realise how grateful we should be that the damage was comparatively slight.

Baboons are very dangerous

When Johan and Mariza went to Sabiepark on their own for the first time, we warned them: “Take care! Beware of the two B’s: burning and baboons. We even wrote a communiqué to warn against these “ancestors” of ours – as some of our parents told us when we were little. The communiqué read: “Baboons are very dangerous. They enter homes looking for food. They plunder and destroy and cause a big mess. Keep ALL windows and doors tightly closed if you are not at home. The sliding door at the back must preferably be locked even when you are on the front stoep. Or else they march in and open the freezer! Don’t even leave a small window partly open on the top storey. They tear the gauze and worm themselves inside. It is a serious matter. Please always be on the alert, because once baboons have dirtied your house, it could take months to get rid of the stench. Don’t leave refuse in the bin when you leave. Deposit it at the gate.”

The children now know exactly what Mom and Dad had warn them against. When they returned after a Sunday afternoon in Kruger Park, they actually slid on banana peels and muesli (without raisins), which lay all over the floors. This time the baboons had forcibly opened a window in the attic. Mariza picked up B-bombs in the dusk, with a torch in one hand and a cloth in the other.

Suddenly she discovered two hairy black hands (remember the Mafia gang, “Black Hand”?) sticking out behind a wardrobe. It was not Johan’s hands. He was at that moment on his way back from the gate with two field wardens, armed with an automatic R4-rifle. They were only allowed to fire one round inside the house, however, and there should be a minimum of blood, they informed him. Therefore, they had to wait for a field warden with a smaller rifle.

The baboon survived the offensive. Cunning devil! While they were waiting for the smaller rifle, he started yelling like a madman. He dashed for the front door and left like lightning to report to his family.

Even a Sunday afternoon nap is not sacred to baboons

David and Christine Serfontein of Hetnet had guests for lunch in the lapa: two couples from Randburg. After having a good time, everyone agreed that a nap was just what the doctor ordered. When David and Christine awoke, all kinds of sounds were heard from the kitchen. Very considerate guests, they thought. They turned over to have a further light snooze, thinking (and hoping!) that the mountain of plates and dishes was receiving friendly attention.

The noise continued and reached unacceptable levels. David was on his way to the kitchen to investigate when he met a male baboon in the passage. Hallo there! The rest of the platoon was still in the kitchen – not washing dishes, but causing havoc after also enjoying a first-class Sunday lunch.

This is the kind of provocative behaviour that causes heart failure

The Serfonteins and their guests laboured for hours to restore order. Tension prevailed, balanced by a bit of humour. It then transpired that all of them were awoken by the activity in the kitchen. All of them came to the same conclusion as to the cause of the noise, and all of them decided to wait a bit. With disastrous results!

Sometimes, only sometimes, the shoe is on the other foot. When Tokkie and I walked past Camp 248 in Appelblaar Avenue, we heard peculiar noises. We knew the house was standing empty and went closer. A troop of baboon burglars were caught red-handed. They seemed flabbergasted when their little party was suddenly spoiled by our unexpected appearance.

The commander-over-hundred was so angry (frustrated?) that he grabbed the nearest female for a shameless, hurried love act. I was scared. What if this fellow, with the grisly yellow fangs, should assume that this strange male wanted to compete for favours? From the sounds and activities one could assume that these ladies were not of the retiring kind.

Give the devil his due. Baboons also have good characteristics. They seem to be exemplary parents who are old-fashioned enough to believe that children should be obedient. They don’t spare the rod. In a troop, discipline reigns, and each one knows his or her place in the hierarchy. I also believe that the mothers, carrying babies under their bellies, would protect them with their lives, if necessary – which is more than can be said of some irresponsible human moms.

Let me admit to it, I also once thought baboons were cute

I could also watch with glee when unselfish beauty treatments were dished out to one another, like ladies converging in a hair salon. But that was long ago. As far as I am concerned nowadays, other people can stop to watch their antics. After getting to know the lot better through bitter experience, I drive past with revenge in my heart.

I arm myself with a catapult, stones and other missiles. With my colourful catty, which I bought at the arts festival in Oudtshoorn, I enjoy myself. When one missile, as large as a “ghoen” (large marble) hit a branch underneath the seat of a sentry, he did a backward somersault, screaming and tumbling to the ground. That was fun. I am not like my friend Kapous, who was prepared to forgive and to forget, and even to salute the buggers with the words “Long live baboons!”.

Tokkie is an ardent lover of animals, but as far as baboons are concerned, she supports her husband. She uses a saucepan to make a lot of noise. She has also learnt the art of jumping in a threatening way, heaving and hissing very effectively. But despite all this, the enemy still scores points at times.

A Sabiepark friend who shall remain nameless, once surprised two miscreants in his lapa. He used his sjambok to very good effect. The smaller one of the two found an escape route in a hole in the roof, but the larger one was driven into a corner. There he received the hiding of his life. When he showed his vicious yellow fangs, he was finished off by means of a panga. This incident is not widely know. Fortunately, the cadaver was carried away by hyenas that night. This harsh treatment was widely applauded. And when a small baboon was abducted by a crowned eagle, few Sabieparkers shed any tears.

As far back as 1982, a start was made in Sabiepark with shooting of the worst culprits. I believe this should be done more often – I do not wish them a long life! The authorities at Sabiepark don’t agree. According to a previous park manager our “baboon problem” is actually a “human problem” – people just don’t want to learn not to feed them or not place temptation in their way. This is partly true. But it is not the full picture. The point is that it does not require much to make criminals of baboons. They just seem “crime prone”.

BRANCH MANAGERS: The vanguard of the Sabiepark Mafia in a knob-thorn tree.

Now you know our little secret: that peace and serenity do not always reign in Sabiepark. Even the cute little vervet monkeys – much more loveable than baboons, and, in addition, with more attractive behinds – can cause problems. On one occasion the entire Skukuza and all the game parks in the vicinity had a black-out, due to a vervet monkey who could not resist the temptation of scaling a power pylon. He got the shock of his life!

Monkeys are excellent bag snatchers

One morning, two picnic makers having scrambled eggs and toast, had to answer the call of nature. On their table was a container with two raw eggs. As quick as lightning, a hungry vervet dashed from a weeping boer-bean tree, snatched one of the eggs, and clambered back to a comfortable fork in the tree. There he made a small hole in the egg and sucked out the contents. He boldly came down for the second egg, aiming for the same branch. Somehow, he misjudged. The process went awry.

The yoke fell from on high and landed on the head of the disgusted picnic maker. The luckless victim displayed quite a non-complimentary vocabulary…