Three days ago around noon, I picked up Will and Zita Gibson from Mombo Airstrip. It was warm and sunny and we drove in an open vehicle, without a roof. We would drive straight to the camp to cool off; I said it would take about 10 minutes. What a mistake!
The drive to the camp was boring. Most of the animals rested in the shade of the large trees and of the dense thickets along the road. We talked some and Will and Zita told me that on an earlier trip in Botswana they had heard about Mombo, and that they had now come back to see for themselves if these “legends” were right. I told them I hoped the experience would live up to their expectations…
As we approached the camp, I switched radio stations to inform the managers that we were in the area, when I heard the last bit of talk and the word “di-Tau!” (lions!) caught up. The Moporota Pride (group of lions) has been regularly in the camp during the past few months, hunting, and I thought that might be the case now. I told Will and Zita that there might be lions around the camp, and that we could try to spot them.
Moments later, we came across a fresh trail that led across the bridge, towards Mombo Island. When we went around the corner, we first saw one lion, then two, and suddenly heads appeared everywhere. We had at least a dozen lions in front of us, and their attention was focused on something for them, away from us, toward Little Mombo. In the distance we saw in the shade of the trees and tents a small herd of impala. All the lions stared intently in their direction. As we watched with bated breath, the hunt began around us. The lions moved like set pieces in a deadly board game towards their nervous prey…
The camp island, which is surrounded by water on three sides, turns into a perfect trap when the lions can block the escape route over the dike, a strategy they have recently had success with.In this case, they were all in the right position to ense with the impala, which happened after a few breathless minutes.
Suddenly the impala broke through and fled along the passageway that was the farthest from the visible group of lions, not knowing that there were others lurking in the dense palm bush in front of them. The speed at which everything happened was extraordinary – an army of lions came running to thwart the escape of the impala, and after a second of silence we heard a heart-stopping thud when one of them collided with one of the fleeing antelopes in full speed. A moment later the carcass was invisibly buried under an infantry to lions, arguing about the meat. The other impala had managed to escape their claws and bring themselves to safety.
Nothing sounds like the sound of twelve lions growling, snarling and cracking during a ‘kill’, as they tear it apart into ever smaller pieces. A few minutes later there was almost nothing left, except that where the bigger stronger lions had managed to get away with it to consume in peace.
With bloody snouts, the majority of them wandered off to rest in the shade under a group of trees near the camp’s access road.
Then we were left with the tricky question of how to reach the reception without being noticed by them, which we succeeded by protecting the high termite mound at the entrance, using the vehicle as a shield.
Meanwhile a little burned by the sun and yearn for a cold drink, but with a smile from ear to ear, Will, Zita and I were greeted by Katie and Liz with a grand “welcome to Mombo!”
Indeed, an incredibly grand welcome….
Until next time,
Ryan Green
Na. Ryan Green has lived in the Okavango Delta since 2004 and is a guide, wildlife photographer and writer
He works for Mombo Camp
