Face-to-Face With Hungry Predators

 

Saturday, 22nd August 2026 dawned with a sapphire sky, sweeping away the icy grip that had held the land captive for weeks. The air shimmered with promise—a day destined for adventure.

We had to put on lots of sunblock cream for the day in the sun. They booked us for a game drive at the Bothongo Rhino and Lion Nature Reserve in the Cradle of Humankind. According to sources on the internet, it covers 47000 hectares and holds the world’s largest concentration of human ancestral remains–a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

The Bothongo Rhino and Lion Nature Reserve teems with a vibrant array of wild animal species, each more intriguing than the last, all waiting just beyond the horizon for us to discover.

Eager to soak up every moment, we set off to explore. A charming tuck shop beckoned, brimming with our favourite chips, snacks, and ice-cold drinks. Next door, the cheerful clatter of tools caught our attention—mechanics fine-tuned gleaming BMX bicycles, a nostalgic sight that whisked me back to days spent teaching my sons to ride. In the golden morning light, children zoomed along a pristine BMX track, laughter echoing as a small boy sped past, his sister in playful pursuit. Their parents watched with warm smiles, savouring the joy of the simple moment.

The tropical sun shone in full glory as the sky remained cloudless, but a gentle breeze started blowing, giving us a bit of respite from the warm morning.

We walked through the restaurant filled with happy families celebrating birthday parties. The fun was contagious and filled us with joy as we passed through to the other side, where adults and kids splashed in a pool, or kids explored the jungle gyms.

Beyond that lively enclosure, we wandered to the vast Okavango deck, its wooden planks stretching out over the hillside. From there, we watched clusters of African wildlife move gracefully in the distance. Excitement buzzed in the air—the game drive was moments away, and soon we would stand face-to-face with creatures whose ancestors had roamed these lands for millennia. Little did we know just how unforgettable the experience ahead would be.

All aboard; the game drive began. My wife and I sat in the back of the vehicle, without windows but with an open deck quite high off the ground. Two rows of seats sat on either side of the truck. My son and his friend sat in the same row but next to us, and my granddaughter and her companion sat in the row in front of them.

The game drive vehicle was quite rustic; whenever it hit a rough patch in the road, it sometimes jolted us up and down or sideways. It was quite fun most of the time and made for a jolly ride once we got used to it.

The vehicle screeched to a dusty halt, and suddenly wildlife surrounded us. Sleek sable antelope and majestic eland grazed to our left, their horns catching the sunlight. Nearby, gemsbok and impala flitted through the grass while zebras, with their bold stripes, mingled among them. The air thrummed with the raw energy of the wild.

On my side of the truck, a few Warthogs were digging for roots of plants that they did using their snouts. Just then our guide popped the first question.

“Who can tell me why the antelopes have white bellies?” Wow! That was unexpected, but very encouraging because things were coming alive. My wife, Maggie, answered, and she was right. He was so knowledgeable and passionate about the animals he grew to love, and he shared that information with us. I loved it.

“Okay, who has heard about follow-me signs of a buck?” His next question stumped us.

He meant mothers and their little ones. The young antelopes were much smaller, and from their perspective, they had to look up through the grass or undergrowth to see their mothers. Each species had a follow-me sign, often visible to the trailing young ones, that helped them recognize their mother. Sometimes, it was a certain stripe or a white tip on the end of the tail. Each species had its own follow-me markings. That was a gem to remember.

As we moved along, we stopped next to a tree that sheltered two zebras.

Another question came. “Do zebras have white bodies with black stripes or black bodies with white stripes? What are their follow-me markings?” Then, he shared more interesting facts.

Further along, the mood shifted as we reached the predators’ domain. The dirt road twisted and turned, leading us to a clearing where vehicles formed a protective ring. In the center, a pack of twenty or thirty wild dogs paced restlessly, their eyes keen with hunger and anticipation—a silent tension hanging in the air before the spectacle to come.

Soon, a pickup truck arrived with a man and meat in the back. That was when those wild dogs scurried around in groups of three, yapping and squealing with delightful anticipation. Then, unable to remain still, they grew even more excited. When the man threw the bright-red, bloody meat over the side, we learned another lesson. Those wild animals stayed in groups of three and let the senior members of the pack get in and eat first. In the wild, the matriarch received preference in the pecking order. The others waited for their turn.

Next, we rumbled into the white lions’ territory. The familiar pickup truck reappeared, this time with a fresh carcass. The lions waited with regal patience—magnificent beasts with velvety white coats and piercing blue eyes, their power barely contained beneath their calm. As I focused the binoculars on the lion’s face, he turned to face me with a stare that sent shivers down my spine. I was glad I was safe in the truck, not part of his meal. As two males fed, a lioness joined, permitted because she was in oestrus. Our guide, with a sly grin, revealed that the males would mate every thirty minutes—nature’s drama on full display.

At the next camp, we came across two cheetahs. “They are an endangered species,” the guide said. With their well-camouflaged coats that easily blend in with the environment, the cheetahs stealthily creep up on unsuspecting game. When they are close enough, they charge and accelerate to speeds of up to 120 kph to catch their prey. They can do that for only about 60 seconds. If they carry on any longer than that, they could die of overexertion.

After that wonderful experience, we left the predators’ camps for a safer game drive and stopped to view wild ostriches in the field.

“Why are some of those ostriches brown and the others black?” That was our guide testing us again. “The brown ostriches are females. They sit on their eggs during the day and blend in with the environment. At night, the black ostriches, which are males, sit on the eggs and blend in perfectly with the shadows. Only a wonderful Creator could have thought of that.

Then he spoke of the matriarch laying her eggs in a hole in the centre, and the other females laying theirs in a circle around hers. If a hungry thief came to steal an egg or two, he would take one on the perimeter because it was easiest to grab, then run for his life when the ostrich saw him. The poor thief stands no chance of outrunning an 80-90 kph charging ostrich.

The ostrich’s kick is so powerful that it can kill a leopard, and it can easily outrun that predator.

On our return, we paused by an embankment scarred by mysterious grooves. Our guide challenged us: “What animal do you think visited this spot?” None of us guessed the truth—it was a black rhino, drawn by the minerals hidden in the earth. Using its formidable front horn, it gouged the soil, leaving evidence of its determination and intelligence. How do these ancient giants know just where to find what they need? The question lingered, a testament to nature’s mysteries.

Back at the camp, we went to the restaurant for a tasty meal and something refreshing to drink. Our granddaughter arranged the game drive to celebrate Maggie’s birthday. She received some delightful presents, and we chatted about a joint birthday celebration in May 2027.