allAfrica.com: Zimbabwe: Chiefs Sign Save Valley Partnership Pact.
CLIVE STOCKIL, conservationist and partner in the Save Valley Conservancy, says:
This is the first step down a long road. Hopefully this will open up new opportunities to develop meaningful and lasting coexistence with our neighbouring communities which will contribute to creating a safer environment for our rhino and provide sustainable development for the social needs of our communities.
Rhinos are thriving in the Save Valley Conservancy-this ideal habitat makes for happy pachyderms! But we can not ever take the well being of these animals for granted, and ongoing costly efforts must constantly be maintained, to protect our rhinos from the ever -present threat of poaching…here is my story “That Lonely Thorn Tree”………..
That Lonely Thorn Tree- painting by Lin Barrie
“That Lonely Thorn Tree”
by Lin Barrie
Sometimes the hardest stories to write are the very ones that need desperately to be told,
no matter the difficulties of trying to balance emotion and fact…
Ice, the five year old daughter of Natalia, was gunned down in broad daylight……….
Her mother was shot to death the previous year….
No, these are not family members of ours, although they are as important– these are two of the many precious black and white rhinos we have lost in the Save Valley Conservancy in Zimbabwe over the last few years.
At nine thirty am on Monday the 10th, November 2008. automatic rifle fire was heard by the pump house attendant on Arda Ranch, neighbouring Senuko Ranch in the Conservancy.
George Hulme and his scouts mobilized a field search to discover what they could, as did the Senuko scouts. Hours of tracking and backtracking led them onto at least six different sets of recent spoor-all illegal poachers and itinerants on Arda. They came across a freshly butchered impala in a snare and picked up numerous wire snares in their ongoing search…..
Before running out of light, Clive found himself standing over a young buffalo, newly strangled in a snare. Probably one of the very large, tame herd of over 200 animals that we are privileged to have drinking at our water hole nightly…
Nothing conclusive was found regarding the rifle shots that day.
A total of two zebra, two buffalo and three impala, all dead in wire snares, were found by the search team.
Clive came home with a murderous look in his eye…
Frustrated and deeply pessimistic about what he would find, Clive went out again early the next morning. He began to systematically work out where the shots were heard from and triangulated back to areas where he knew the habitat was suitable for Black rhino…
Knowing that Sarah, a mature female who was the first Black rhino born on the Conservancy, had been seen in this area with a young calf, his dread was that he would find her, the “flagship rhino” of the Conservancy, poached and her calf dead, abandoned or mutilated….
Joined by his son Glenn and the Senuko scouts, shortly before midday they had discovered spoor of a running rhino, overlaid with blood spots and yet again overlaid by human tracks.
Within 800 metres they came upon the grisly murder scene, the female rhino crumpled onto her chest near a lone thorn tree, legs buckled under her and her face obliterated by the hacking cuts of the poachers who had removed her horns after mowing her down with automatic fire.
No sign of a calf……..and the poachers long gone on the next leg of their journey to pass the horn on to couriers who would then spirit it across the border.
Was this Sarah? She looked to be a young animal and Clive took note of her ear notches, of which Graham Connear, the Conservator, has records, enabling identification of each individual rhino.
Coming home saddened and distraught, Clive rested himself for half an hour and then we drove to meet Mark Brightman and Graham Connear on the boundary road between Senuko, Hammond and Arda, together with details of Support Unit and Chiredzi police whom Mark had picked up.
Graham confirmed that, from the ear notch data, this was not Sarah who was killed but Ice, a young female, who had not yet been known to have a calf.
Small consolation-this was not beloved Sarah, and I could see that register in Clive’s eyes, but this was still an irreplaceable loss-a young female who could have borne many babies in her lifetime. She was the daughter of Natalia, who herself was previously killed by poachers.
We drove into thorn scrub and when we reached the clearing with the one lone tree, where her body lay, I subdued my emotions, clambering out of the vehicle with heavy heart to take photographs, to sketch and to try to understand the process of what had happened in this lonely space under a thorn tree; the last breaths of a rare and special animal, the triumphant antics of the killers who had chopped out the object of their greedy desire, her horn.
Her open, staring eyes and intact ears were all that was left of her face, the rest a gaping hole of tattered flesh and busy flies. Apart from the carnage of her face, her body had been attacked… the horn poachers, or perhaps some others who had followed, had flayed sheets of skin off her forequarters and rump and buttocks to harvest meat in large quantities, leaving exposed, sun-darkened flesh, and her pathetic tail hanging intact. She lay chest down, legs crumpled beneath her, one eye hardened and sun scorched, the other eye unglazed, still seeming almost aware, protected as it was in the shade of her head.
With subdued and sad murmurings the team set to work to photograph her ear notches, locate bullet wounds and check the two microchips implanted at different times, once when she was dehorned and before that, when she was ear notched as a very young rhino.
All the while I squatted in front of her and drew her poor sad head, my mind determinedly in numb mode and my fingers moving the pencil automatically to record the tragic mess.
“Ice” poached-sketch by Lin Barrie
Graham and Mark located and followed bullet tracks with the metal detector, whilst the rest of the team cut, pushed and pulled the body as necessary to enable them to retrieve the bullets-five in all they found-two in her fore quarters and lung and three in her intestines. The team then decided to return to where they had originally picked up her running tracks yesterday and to back track from there until they found the place where the poachers had initially confronted her. They all departed. I remained.
As silence descended I climbed onto the bonnet of the cruiser, parked under the same thorn tree that Ice lay under. As I lay there staring up through the branches into a clouded and bird less sky, I listened to the buzzing of the flies attending to the feast, smelt slow whiffs of her as yet untainted flesh, and began to let myself mourn this tragic waste, this terrible tribute to greed.
After what seemed like hours of weeping slow tears through closed eyes, drifting in and out of stressed sleep, listening to distantly approaching thunder and the twittering of Little bee-eaters arriving to hawk flies at the carcass, letting my surroundings absorb me, I eventually opened my lids and stared up into the fast-gathering grey cumulus clouds. Lightening flashed distantlly.
Vultures had arrived, seemingly from nowwhere. A wheeling vortex of more than forty circled above me, with the closest, a White backed vulture, soaring at tree height and the furthest I could see being nearly invisible, pepper-grain specks against the massed clouds high above. A strange and enlightening sensation– I felt as if I was the object of their intent as the first bird whistled at speed in to perch on a neighbouring thorn tree, and pretended to preen whilst eyeing me all the while.
I pursued my depressed thoughts, while the vulture waited and watched…no others came down, staying high aloft-were they awaiting a signal from the first? The wind freshened to a stiff breeze, scattered raindrops fell and the Vulture, buffeted about on a flimsy branch, gave up and flapped silently away. If I had not been there would they have all descended to begin their task of clearing up the remains of Ice? Perhaps the lateness of the afternoon and the threatening rainstorm put them off…
European bee-eaters arrived en masse, briefly dipping and chirruping above me as they picked flies out of the air and then, as quickly as they had arrived, they were gone again.
I pondered so many things lying there under that lonely tree-
–the inability of many of our follow-ups to secure convictions of known poachers,
–the desperate need for inside information which could be served by being able to offer a reward to informers and scouts,
–the dearth of effective scout bases and lack of presence on the ground in vulnerable areas,
–the challenge of funding and feeding the extra staff needed to mount more intensive patrols and follow ups….
Dusk began to fall under that lonely thorn tree, and voices betrayed the slow steps of the returning trackers. They had found the place in thick scrub where the poachers had discovered Ice dozing peacefully, had sneaked closer, disturbed her so that she panicked and fled a short way, to stand and short-sightedly search the air for the cause of her alarm as is the wont of Black rhinos. While she stood there, undecided, confused and vulnerable, the poachers had opened murderous fire on her. Ten cartridge shells were found on that killing ground.
Mortally wounded, she ran until she could run no more and, giving up, she collapsed under that lonely tree…
We have lost many of our breeding female rhinos to poaching in the Save Valley Conservancy, but we believe that with continued vigilance, innovative monitoring methods and fundraising through the goodwill of caring people, we can stem the tide of rhino loss.
Amarula and Chocolate Pancakes | Safari Interactive Magazine Blog..
mmmmmm-must try these, and I will add real Marula nuts, sprinkled on top after heating the pancakes….we are very fortunate in our lowveld area to be able to buy shelled Marula nuts from the skilled older women in the villages who know just how to crack the iron-hard shells without smashing the three tiny, delicate nuts within…
some fun and informative profiles from the Chilo Gorge lodge website………
(51) Chilo Gorge Safari Lodge 18/04/12.
Lin Barrie and Peter, the Chef at Chilo Gorge Safari Lodge, create special pancakes with a secret ingredient…to be shared with you all in the recipe below!
Peter’s African Pancakes
Soft pancakes with an African twist…
Serve American-style for breakfast with bacon, fried banana and local honey.
Serve English style for afternoon tea with farm butter and Gooseberry jam.
Ingredients
Special secret ingredient: One cup of cooked, COLD, mielie meal (cornmeal) porridge
(This is the same as cooked soft grits or polenta…)
One whole egg
2 Tablespoons caster sugar
Pinch of salt
One cup self-raising flour
One teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
150-200 ml fresh milk
Method
Mix Cold mielie meal porridge with beaten egg, caster sugar and salt.
Sift flour and bi-carbonate of soda and stir briefly into the mielie meal mix, then add enough milk to create a soft dropping consistency.
Have ready a hot cast iron pan or griddle, using minimal vegetable oil.
Quickly drop dessert spoonfuls of pancake mix onto griddle and cook until you see bubbles begin to rise, but not pop!
Immediately turn the pancakes over and finish cooking.
They should be pale gold, not dark brown.
Peter’s pancakes are served, overlooking the Save river.
What a great night-I returned to my Tsavene house yesterday from Chilo Gorge lodge, to pick up Dad, a load of plants and many bags of elephant poop that I have collected from our waterhole for the Chilo Gardens…! We will return to Chilo today to begin the long process of re-vitalising the gardens.
A herd of 300 buffalo came through in the early evening, drinking and snorting at our waterhole, and, as expected, they were followed by the lions and hyenas! I lay in bed until 4. 30 am listening , then as the roaring and yodelling increased, I happily got up to come and investigate-can not see anything at the waterhole now-it is just getting light, but the cats are calling CLOSE by-females by the sound of them….what an inspiring sound to have drifting in the windows as I update my blog and drink tea. Very special.
I wonder if Graham and Jane, two visitors at Senuko lodge, in Africa for the first time, can hear them….
The three hundred buffalo have headed off, away from the pesky lions…maybe as soon as it is light I will collect some buffalo poop with our two gardeners, but judging by the close calls of the lions, perhaps I will leave that collection for another, cat-less day….
Elephant poop is very mild, great mulch and fibre-so I mix it with all my soils, it never burns the plants as other, stronger dung might do. I would never unnecessarily remove dung from the environment, but around our waterhole we often have up to three successive groups of elephants following each other in a single night, each group being over 30 animals-lots of poop to spare.
Seems like other have found the same great use for it…
Elephant Dung Makes Perfect Compost at City Safari in Tel Aviv | Green Prophet.
At Chilo Gorge lodge….
Bathawks are high on my mind at the moment, after watching one approach us through the red dusk, high above the Save river, last night. We stood transfixed and entranced, on the wooden deck of Chilo Gorge lodge, as the rare, dark shape flew at us, at eye level.
Could see the glint in its eye as it cruised past us and away downriver. Breathtaking.
Bat Hawk – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.
This is the time of year, beginning of winter, when raptors such as Bathawks begin to explore and rejuvenate nesting sites, mostly in the forks of baobab trees.
There is a baobab growing beneath the viewpoint at The Chilojo cliffs which we are sure houses a bathawk nest…..
If we lean perilously far out and peer down, we can see a platform of twigs which looks likely….we must try to cross the Save river next week, if the water has receded enough, and go there to investigate the possibility…
Baobabs (Adansonia digitata) are documented as growing up to 28 metres circumference. We have personally measured some with larger girth.
They are low altitude trees, thriving in arid dry woodland and come in fantastic form and shapes, such as this character called ‘Quasimodo’, in Gonarezhou national Park.
baobabs are some of my favorite subjects for sketching and painting….
Baobab Dance, acrylic on canvas by Lin Barrie
The flowers are bisexual, white and exquisitely frilled and ruffled, but with an unpleasant scent-perhaps they are pollinated by bats. It is believed that picking a baobab flower will result in the individual being attacked by a lion…perhaps the flowers are inhabited by spirits…
Fruit are round to oblong velvety pods, filled with seeds embedded in a white powdery pulp which, when mixed with water, makes a refreshing drink. High concentrations of tartaric acid and potassium bitartrate mean that the mixture is useful in treating fevers and scorbutic complaints.
It is reputed that a potion of water, shaken and infused with baobab seeds, will protect the drinker against crocodile attack…
As a child Clive would harvest baobab pods with his Shangaan friends. They would then sneak in to the cow herds, avoiding potentially irate cow herders, to milk a lactating cow straight into the hole they had made in their pods. Slipping away, they would then plug the holes and vigorously shake the pods to create frothy, healthy milkshakes!
The seeds can be dried, roasted and ground to make a mild tasting coffee substitute.
If a pod is young and fresh, I like to suck the seeds clean of powder, and then crunch up the delicious young seeds as well.
Excessive harvesting of baobab pods for human consumption in populated areas results in no seeds being left to germinate in the wild and many communities that are surrounded by 1000 year old baobabs have, sadly, no young trees growing to continue the lineage.
Many animals relish the fruit-if they can break into it-
Baboons are specialists in collecting the pods and piercing the hard shell with their long canine teeth-and a troop will strip a tree in hours, unless the trunk is just too smooth and slippery for them to climb. Many times we have laughed ourselves to weakness, watching enterprising baboons flee from a fruiting tree clutching one pod under each armpit, one in a hand, and one gripped between the teeth!
When the seeds germinate, which they do easily, they produce a carrot shaped shoot and root which ,when it is young-up to about six inches long- is a delicious crunchy snack for humans and other animals.
Young baobabs in the field are often unrecognized as such by passers by- they do not look like typical “baobabs” until a few metres high.
Leaves are shaped like hands-hence the latin name digitata-“fingers”. Young leaves are cooked as relish by some communities.
The fibrous”bark” of the baobab, water and mineral-rich, can be stripped and chewed by humans in times of drought. Animals such as elephants relish this fibre, gouging it from the trees to such an extent that often they erode the tree to a thin girth and the tree collapses.
Squirrels nibble the bark and porcupines relish the fibrous, watery strips.
The bark is stripped in panels from younger trees by villagers to be pounded into soft fibres for rope and mat making. This is a traditional and skilled use of a natural product to provide human needs, but commercialization of the beautiful rugs so produced in the city centres has resulted in heavy demand on baobab populations, and over- zealous harvesting of panels of fibre results in some trees being more susceptible to sooty mould disease.
Old trees collapse into mounds of fibrous pulp when they die.
Baobabs have been known to burst into spontaneous combustion after being killed and dried by frost.
It is said that a potion of water infused with the bark delivers stamina and strength to the drinker……
Recent carbon dating suggests that there may be annular growth rings of a sort, although baobabs do not have bark as other trees do.
I liken baobab skin to that of elephant skin-tones of grey, purple, orange and pink combine with lichen and mottling, wrinkles and folds, warts and protuberances, giving a monumental impression of pachyderm limbs and torsos!
Older baobabs almost always become hollow-sometimes fire hollows them, sometimes hollows seem to naturally develop. Over the centuries these hollow baobabs have been used by humans as places of hiding, of refuge, of burial or storage. Often the fork of the branches will contain cup shaped depressions or holes, where water lies for the thirsty traveler.
The shade of a large baobab seems always cooler than that offered by other trees, especially if you lean your weary back against it…but be wary of disturbing the bees which will inevitably have a busy, dripping nest in one of the crevices high above you, out of reach of marauders such as honey badgers. Often the shiny surface of a mature baobab will be pitted with regular, round peg holes, leading from the ground directly up to bee nests. These are relics of the traditional local honey collectors, who brave the sheer, slippery heights and the angry bees to drive wooden pegs methodically up the trunk. Clambering agilely upwards, they smoke out the bees with smoldering leaves in a clay pot carried on the wrist, then letting down another pot full of glowing golden honey to eager helpers far below.
The many hollows and forks of a baobab provide home to a myriad of creatures-ground level holes shelter porcupines, hyenas, honey badgers, and civets. Higher holes house genets, lizards, snakes, and the occasional leopard! A certain species of gecko lives only in the crevices of baobabs. I have often found Giant African land snails tucked neatly into deep wrinkles in the baobab trunk, hiding out the dry winter months. As for the birds that inhabit baobabs, the list is endless. Vultures nest in flat constructions atop the tree and in forks, as do many large eagles, such as the Martial eagle and the Walberg’s eagle. Red billed buffalo weavers build untidy condominiums towards the end of sturdy branches. I have seen Giant eagle owls nest atop these.
In Senuko Wildlife Reserve, a few years ago, I was privileged to view a Bat hawk’s nest on the smooth long limb of a spreading baobab. Conveniently, many bats roosted in hollows in that baobab-so the bat hawk would have had it’s nest just above the local delicatessen!
This year, and last, Clive and I have watched a bat hawk regularly as it wings its way down the Save river at dusk and flies past us on the deck at Chilo Gorge Lodge. We have even seen it catch a bat in mid air close to our upturned faces! On that particular occasion the Bat hawk did not immediately eat the bat on the wing, as is their habit, but took the catch straight back up river, in such a determinedly straight line that we thought it must be heading back to a nest of hungry chicks, nestled on the fork of some large baobab…
Mosque swallows prefer baobab holes above all else, as do Mottled and Bohm’s spinetails, which nest inside the larger cavities, clinging to the dark, silky inner wall like bats. This photograph is of the ‘Hunters baobab’ near Tembweharta pan in Gonarezhou, where we have discovered spinetail nests in the dark interior.
Ground hornbills use the same nest in particular trees year after year, as do other species of hornbills and all the species of lowveld parrots. White browed sparrow weavers, Red headed weavers, the list goes on and on….
A baobab tree, such as this magnificent specimen on the Chipinda Pools-Chilojo Cliffs road in Gonarezhou, supports provides a total environment, a unique ecosystem which supports a huge variety of life. All in danger of being lost if we do not protect our existing baobabs and nurture new generations of these incomparable trees. Elephants are endangered worldwide but do exist in large populations in our wild areas, and it takes a sixty year old elephant, in time of drought, to decimate a two thousand year old baobab!
Which species, elephant or baobab, is the more endangered? As humans we need to modify our harvesting of fibre and pods, and we need to plant baobabs in suitable areas.
Carly Cat and Kelli Bunny arrived at our Tsavene house on Easter Sunday and explored the bush around our house….
Then they posed at the waterhole………
found a safe baobab……..
made themselves at home……
then off to hunt for Easter eggs ….
with Jade and Rayne
Jade and Rayne got face-painted….
one of the consequences of hanging out with Carly Cat and Kelli Bunny!
After a night spent with precious family and friends, watching the full moon rise over our granite dome that we call Sunset Rock, we are even more thankful of the companionship of the good people around us, and remember with love those we have so recently lost in our lives, but who have enriched us immeasurably by the knowing of them- Dennis Hofmeyr-beloved father of Wayne and my sisi Lu, grandfather to Shannon, Louis and Bianca; Rich Davy-medical doctor, bushman and friend par excellence, Christessa- dearest friend to Kelli and musician of exquisite beauty, Ryan- beloved brother of Carly…..
Carly and Kelli share a mattress with two babies-Rayne and little Badger………………..
and Jason and Robbie enjoy the sunset with Nchila as guard dog….
I wake to the Crested Francolin chattering their excitement at a new dawn, and when I peer from my lounge window this is what I see……
