What Is The Major Difference Between A Quagga And A Zebra? Also Find Other Zebra's Exciting Stories From The Sabiepark

Some people talk about “pyjama-donkeys”. Not fair! I say. Donkeys? That is insulting. By the way, those “pyjama stripes” are not parallel like real pyjama stripes. Each stripe is in fact a work of art with its own pattern, like human fingerprints. The purpose is camouflage. When danger threatens, zebras mill around and scatter so as to confuse the predator. They are known for their vigilance and fast reaction to danger. Those stripes don’t only confuse predators, but can also have humans in a tizzy. At least this human.

The difference between a zebra and a quagga (the name quagga is an imitation of the sound all zebras make) presents a poser. The Sabiepark and Kruger zebras are true zebras, known as Burchell zebras. Sometimes they are called “bont”-quagga, but they differ from the Cape mountain quagga and the normal quagga, an extinct species with its white hindquarters.

The National Parks Board (now Sanparks) wanted to revive the species by means of in-breeding a few years ago. A breeding pair was off-loaded in the protected area of Sabiepark. The experiment was of limited duration, however. Five vagrant lions destroyed any possibility of breeding. One of their first victims – of many – was a quagga. The experiment came to an end, at least at Sabiepark.

One fact, however, was well illustrated by this breeding pair during their short stay. It was the strict “apartheid” which is practised in the animal kingdom. To spot the difference between a quagga and a normal zebra is very difficult for the layman. But interbreed? Don’t you believe it! From the very onset the black-and-whites segregated themselves from the white-and-blacks.

Burchell zebras, mountain zebras, whatever. There are really only two kinds, according to a field warden friend: a fat zebra and a dead one. I asked him why a “fat” zebra was always super-fat. Was it due to its appetite? Or did it not exercise enough? Or was it genetic? The warden’s reply was a surprise: “The zebra does not eat more than other animals. Neither is it really fatter. The vertical lines around its body provide an optical illusion.” “I don’t believe it,” I said. “Why do their fat buttocks shake when they trot away?” I’m still awaiting his reply.

How quickly a fat zebra could become a dead zebra, I saw in June 2002

A stallion with an ugly wound on his left leg – probably after a fight for domination – dragged himself on three legs to Tarlehoet. He was obviously very thirsty, and half emptied our waterhole. “It must be fever,” Tokkie said. A few days later, on a Saturday morning, he was back. Obviously very ill. He dragged himself once more to the waterhole, where I took a photo. Shortly afterwards we discovered that he had fallen over. I thought he had died, or was in the process of dying. I phoned the office. But, miraculously, he regained his stance. He grazed for a few minutes and lay down again. Meanwhile David Zeller had fetched a vet from Skukuza. The zebra was anaesthetised and Tarlehoet became a temporary hospital theatre. The vet carefully opened and cleaned the wound before administering a large dose of antibiotic.

CAPTION: BRING THE STRETCHER. This new-born zebra was severely mauled by a stallion. Gait-Jan Sterk and Alfred Mathebula of Sabiepark came to help. The foal, however, did not survive.

The stallion got to his feet and spent the entire afternoon around our house. The treatment obviously brought much relief. It seemed that he was almost ready to use the injured leg. The next morning he had left. For a week I made enquiries at the office every day as to his condition. At last I received the sad news. The leg had become worse and the zebra thinner. He was eventually helped out of his misery. A fight for a mare had cost him his life.

An obsession with females in the zebra community can cause highly exceptional behaviour. In March 2003, a new-born calf was repeatedly kicked by a stallion and seriously injured. Gait-Jan Sterk, deputy-manager, and colleague Alfred Mathebula carefully lifted the injured foal onto a stretcher and carried it to the shade. The mother kept a watchful eye, while the stallion did his best to divert her attention. The foal died later. A KNP veterinarian concurred that the misbehaviour of the stallion probably took place to eliminate future competition in a living area which was already densely populated. C’est la vie.

It is not always easy to explain animal behaviour. Two mysterious zebra gallops in Sabiepark prove this. One of these happened in front of me in Wildevy Avenue. Of the other, I only saw the result. The explanation – even animal experts can only guess.

In the “Zebra Handicap” in the road in front of our house two frisky specimen, sex unknown, ran at full speed from west to east towards the picnic spot. Shortly afterwards, their hooves thundered back the way they came. They turned around for a third gallop. And a fourth. Later they came to Tarlehoet for a breather. One of them was injured; a sprain or a torn ligament – who knows? The only explanation I can think of, is the joys of life after rain.

After an arid early summer, the first welcome showers had come. First a soft, misty rain: 7 mm Then came a heavy drenching shower: 15 millimetres A metamorphosis took place in the veld overnight. Suddenly there was a spring in the step of the animals. The frogs started their loud indabas. Thick millipedes emerged everywhere … and two boisterous zebras challenged one another.

The victim of “Handicap” number two was a brand new car

At the receiving end of “handicap” number two was a brand-new car. Eddie and Marie Haumann (then of erf 209, off Maroela Avenue) had only just arrived for a short vacation. Near their house they saw two zebras coming full tilt along the road. They stopped their car to watch the race. At the last moment, one of the zebras swerved. It narrowly missed the car. The other one applied brakes, but it was too late. The terrified animal slid against the metal of the car with a loud bang, and landed on top of the bonnet (fortunately, one of those modern stub-nosed minibuses with the slanting windscreens). It hit the windscreen with predictable results. Then it trotted off, uninjured but probably feeling a bit foolish. Donkey!

Fortunately, there was no “third-party” damage. Just imagine Eddie’s conversation with his insurer: “I wish to submit a claim after a collision. My vehicle was stationary when an unlicensed zebra hit it….A zebra crossing? Yes, there were two zebras crossing!”

Sometimes zebra behaviour can be very predictable. Iris Coetzee (erf 29 in Maroela Avenue) tells the story:

“My husband, Dirk, and I are now in those golden years that we can stay in Sabiepark continuously for four months, and in Cape Town, with the sea at our feet, for another four months every year. The rest of the time we travel. Our home is really in a retirement village in Johannesburg. In Cape Town we made friends with a couple from Namaqualand – as down-to-earth as they come. From them we learnt the expression about people who know one another really well: they fart in front of one another.

“Back at Sabiepark, Dirk was watering the grass in front of our house. When the first green showed, the zebras discovered the juicy food. Dirk was not pleased. He did not want the zebras to eat his small lawn, and kept chasing them away. After many ‘clashes’ he came into the house grumbling: ‘They probably think we are friends. Every time I chase them off, they fart, fart continuously’.”