Its No Secret Anymore, Sabiepark and the Kruger Park Are Full Of Surprises!

Some really big surprises … an almighty 5 000+ kilogram surprise for instance! Crusty elephants from the Kruger have had residents trapped for hours, or scampering back home – minus their dignity. Some have had to leopard-crawl with stiff limbs past these enormous “road blocks’’. Motorists have had to beat a hasty retreat in reverse gear as “big feet” charged with their giant ears flapping ominously.

Three months after the leopard incident, on 18 June 1998, Tokkie and I took a walk, and met our first Sabiepark elephant. It was late afternoon along Sabiepark’s densely wooded hikers’ trail next to the river – not far from the bridge at the Kruger Gate. We were treading along noiselessly, as one is wont to do in this no-man’s-land. Two darling bushbuck had caught our attention in the shadows of some giant sycamore fig trees. Then, suddenly, we heard branches snapping. I froze on the spot, my heart thumping wildly. Tokkie, foolishly brave, bore on. A few metres ahead the path curved – and that’s as far as she got. She winked excitedly at me. Just a few metres further along, stood this giant of the forest, leisurely grazing at a leafy tree – his enormous rear-end blocking the entire pathway.

This time I had my camera ready. On the photograph – a winner, even if I say so myself – Tokkie is standing seemingly at ease, giving the thumbs-up, with old Big Foot’s posterior to the right. My wife’s heart was in her throat – which you won’t see on the picture. It was my first, but not last, shot of an elephant on the “wrong’’ side of the river.

Numero Uno of the Big Five, for most people anyway, must be the lion. Many measure the quality of a game holiday by the number of lion they’ve spotted. I’m not one of those. But let’s face it, lions are indeed impressive customers – always a welcome sight for the game watcher, and guaranteed to get the camera boffins reaching for their zoom lenses. Especially at Sabiepark, where the Big Five aren’t even supposed to be.

The king of the animals, for obvious reasons, does not belong this side of the river. But lions care little about rules. With the arrival of winter, they ford the river repeatedly to feast on Sabiepark’s relatively “tame’’ fauna. They sneak in, gorge themselves, and sneak out again. Three avaricious male lions did exactly that in December 1994. Their prey was two giraffe foals – provocatively killed near the office complex.

Lion encounters have spawned a host of adventures, vicariously remembered and retold around the glow of many a campfire. In the early days of Sabiepark, the carnivores found the new reserve irresistible. Wayward lions lead the onslaught. They gave park warden Crabtree a fair share of headaches with their incursions. Even before breakfast, as once in 1980.

That morning the maid barged into the dining room, shrieking. Four lions stood threatening at the back door, she stuttered incoherently. With her hands she indicated their height. Crabtree dashed out to see for himself. He found the four aliens feasting on a wildebeest they had quietly killed near his kitchen. He knew what he had to do. His orders in those early days were, as he puts it, “to eradicate any lion that preys on our animals or threatens our people…’’

That meant only one thing: he had to slip out through the front door and sneak up on the four vagabonds with his Sako .243 rifle, the only one available. The rest of his armory was locked up in the office safe. The lions, however, spotted him and reluctantly withdrew from the tasty carcass. Disgruntled, they sluggishly headed across the lawn towards the undercover. That gave Crabtree enough time to aim. Two lions dropped dead in their tracks – both shot through the head. The remaining two were “spooked”, and headed for the Sabi Sand across the tarred road between Hazyview and the Kruger Gate. The Sabi Sand is Sabiepark’s other large neighbour. Sabi Sand is Sabie Park’s other big neighbour.