Destination: Zambia : When our walking safari guide yelled ‘Run!’ we took flight--away from the charging buffalo

We had lingered too long over coffee and our guide was pacing restlessly beneath the great spreading trees sheltering Luwi Camp, a temporary five-hut settlement in Zambia’s South Luangwa National Park. By 6:15 a.m. the four of us had set out on our morning walking safari, having been awakened by the unmistakable, not-too-distant roar of a lion.

Arthur Ansell, 52, the Kapani Safari Lodge guide who directed our safari, was eager to track the lion. In traditional safari walking order, he took his place behind Kalikoko Mwale, the Zambian ranger who carried a .375 caliber Brno bolt action rifle, the only weapon among us. My wife, Carol, and I followed them across the Chimsekata Flats on our way to Nsolo, another bush camp about nine miles away.

Our British travel agent had encouraged us to visit South Luangwa National Park in Africa’s landlocked south-central country of Zambia if we wanted a walking safari, which is defined narrowly in Africa. It refers to walking from one camp to another, and it usually means sleeping in one or more bush camps.

Although walking safaris are offered in several countries, including Zimbabwe, Botswana and South Africa, we selected Zambia, which is not geographically spectacular except for its beautiful Victoria Falls, because we were told this is where the modern walking safari was invented. We also learned that Zambia, along with Zimbabwe, is among the few countries that allow walking safaris in national parks; other walks are primarily in private game parks that may not be as rich in animal variety. We choose a walking safari rather than the more traditional motor safaris of Kenya and Tanzania because we had already done those and were hoping for an experience that wasn’t tourist saturated.

We knew we would see fewer animals than we had on motor safaris in three national parks in Tanzania, where we had seen the “big five”: elephant, rhinoceros, lion, leopard and African buffalo. But we were looking forward to the exhilarating sense of danger that comes from being on foot in the bush--minus the protection of a 4,000-pound Land Rover--as well as the chance to be close to animals unaccustomed to humans.

At Tanzania’s tourist-heavy Lake Manyara, Ngorongoro Crater and the Serengeti, the animals are habituated to humans in four-wheel drive vehicles and I thought actually appeared bored. Once, on the floor of Ngorongoro, we saw a half-dozing lion with a great, black mane inspire a traffic jam of tourist-filled Land Rovers, stopped and lined up to get a good look.

Zambia’s modern walking safari originated in South Luangwa National Park under the guidance of Norman Carr, a noted conservationist who began as a park ranger before Northern Rhodesia became Zambia in 1964.

Now in his 80s and something of a legend, Carr remains active in Zambia conservation, although his role in running Kapani Safari Lodge, which he founded, is reduced. The lodge newsletter says he has “been put out to grass,” although he remains active day to day.

In Luangwa, the animals are less familiar with man and keep their distance. We had to seek them out, always hoping to find a big predator in the next clump of six-foot-high elephant grass and, at the same time, anxious that we might.

We had been driven in a Toyota Land Cruiser from Kapani Lodge to Luwi Camp the day before in time for a late afternoon walk with Ansell and Mwale. In proper walking order, we explored the banks and the many tracks left in the dry, sandy bottoms of the Luwi River, a flowing stream only during the rainy season that had ended in May, more than a month before our June, 1993, visit.

*

We visited a plant-choked lagoon left when the river changed its course, and freshened each year during the rainy season. From a high bank we watched perhaps a dozen hippos and listened to their loud grunts and bellows.

“Hippos are the most dangerous animal in Africa. They kill more people than any other animal because people misjudge their temperament and how fast they can move. Never make the mistake of getting between a hippo and the water,” Ansell said.

I made a mental note not to do that.

We watched a crocodile ease itself into the water from the far bank.

“Crocodiles are the second most dangerous animal in Africa,” Ansell said.

Another mental note: Don’t get between a crocodile and anything.

We walked the mile or so back to Luwi Camp without incident. Mwale had told us he always keeps a cartridge in the chamber of his rifle; he carried it in his arms almost like a baby. He said he has only to click off the safety to fire.

“When the animal charges, he comes very hard, very fast,” Mwale said.

Another mental note: Position myself behind the rifle when anything charges, particularly crocodiles.

Supper at Luwi Camp that evening could well have been served in a good restaurant in Nairobi, Lusaka or Harare: appetizer, soup, an entree and dessert. While we dined, Ansell told us that his father, an authority on small mammals of Africa, had served years in the Northern Rhodesia Game Department.

After a long conversation over Zambian beer, Ansell put out a small portion of food at the edge of the Luwi Camp clearing as treat for a ratel (or honey badger) that he said often makes nocturnal visits.

An attendant was placing kerosene lamps on the concrete pads beside the door of each hut and, as we prepared to retire, Ansell mentioned that a leopard had gone inside an unoccupied hut a few nights before, and warned that hyenas sometimes come into camp at night. It was the kind of bedtime line that reminded us we were, indeed, in the African bush.

“If you get up during the night to walk to the bathroom, look outside first for eyes shining in the light,” he suggested.

Neither Carol nor I could envision a sufficiently urgent call to nature to tempt us out into the night, even though the bathroom had a flush toilet and was only about 30 paces away. We fell asleep to the frequent, soft, high-pitched, almost plaintive calls of the puku, a kind of antelope that was grazing nearby.

July nights are chilly in the Luangwa River valley, but the sun warmed the winter morning almost as soon as it cleared the horizon. We already were in the bush, mostly elephant grass and mopani scrub. The land was dry. Ansell had given us the few unbreakable rules: Follow behind him, don’t fall too far back and, sternly, “Always do what I say.”

His remark reminded me of a line I had read in one of the dozen or so guidebooks and safari pamphlets we had read before leaving for Africa:

“Don’t attempt this safari unless you can climb a tree.”

Ansell dismissed the guidebook warning with, “I’ve never climbed a tree in my life.” Just the same, as we walked I kept an eye open for climbable trees.

Ansell and Mwale almost immediately discovered fresh lion spoor. The paw prints covered a diameter of about five inches, and they were shortly joined by hyena tracks. Ansell and Mwale also picked up and picked at samples from almost every pile of dung we encountered. Elephant dung, lion dung, leopard dung, buffalo dung and the only dung I could easily recognize, hyena dung. Hyena dung is white because, with their exceptionally powerful jaws, hyenas eat so much bone.

The lion and hyena tracks led on for a mile or so. Ansell said there was a chance we would come to a lion on a kill, and the pace quickened. He had told us what the guidebooks also said: “Never run from a lion. Stand still.”

“That would be very difficult to do,” I reminded myself, and wondered, “What about the tree?”

The tracks left the trail and headed into the tall grass and scrub brush. Ansell and Mwale decided not to follow. Another party and guide were to meet us half-way between the Luwi and Nsolo camps, and we were running late for our rendezvous. We came across tracks of elephant, several kinds of hoofed animals and even a leopard.

In about two hours, after a few animal sightings, we met other walkers from Nsolo Camp waiting in the shade of a large mopani tree. Ansell and Mwale began the walk back to Luwi alone and we continued on with the other group.

As before, an armed Zambian ranger led the way. He wore thick glasses, is somewhere in his 60s or 70s (his official documents conflict) and is a legendary figure in Zambian game and park management. He goes by the nickname “Ricetime.”

His name is actually Magaba Tembo, and his skill as a rifleman is credited with twice saving the life of Kenneth Kuanda when he was president of Zambia, once from a charging lion and once from an enraged elephant. In gratitude, Kuanda presented him with the .375 Remington rifle he still carries slung across his back.

Also in the group was another Zambian, Alfred, who carried a slender spear he laughingly said was “mostly for show.” He picked up the rear. A congenial Englishman, Andrew Parker, and his son, Nick, also made this leg of the walk with us. The safari was a 16th birthday present for Nick, who was born in Zambia.

Our guide for the second leg of the trip would be Craig Doria, 30, a South African who lived and worked in conservation in the Zululand area of northern Natal before coming to Zambia. Like Ansell, Doria is a senior staff member of Kapani Safari Lodge, which is just outside South Luangwa National Park and just off the well-traveled paved road to the town of Mfuwe and its airport.

Kapani Safari Lodge is a permanent, tile-roof-and-stucco compound, home base and parent of both Luwi and Nsolo camps. Kapani has eight double rooms with bathroom facilities in its four chalets, a dining-and-bar area, a swimming pool and library/video area in addition to administrative and work buildings. It sits on a bank overlooking a lagoon of the Luangwa River, where monkeys romp endlessly among the many trees in the compound. Kapani is about a two-hour game drive from Luwi Camp.

As we set out with Ricetime, Alfred and the Parkers, Doria repeated the instructions Ansell had given: Follow him, don’t fall behind and obey instructions:

“The most important of which is, ‘run.’ ”

Doria added:

“Never run from a lion. If you do anything, run at the lion.”

“Of course,” I said to myself, hoping that my incredulousness would not be apparent as we walked through more mopani scrub and elephant grass that sometimes grew eight feet high.

We crossed the deep sand of the meandering Luwi River bottom three times en route to Nsolo Camp, and once we followed the sand for half a mile or so. Doria pointed out parallel snake tracks; one was a gently undulating line about two inches wide, and the other, also undulating, was four or five inches wide. It was easy to envision the large snake pursuing the small.

We came upon impala and puku grazing, and we saw more lion, leopard, hippo and elephant tracks. We found places in the river bottom where elephants had dug two or three feet to find the water below.

We were back in the grasses and scrub, walking at a measured pace when Doria’s hand flew up in a signal to stop. Ricetime stopped motionless, almost at attention, and both men were looking intently to our left. The rest of us froze.

“Kakuli,” he said softly to us. Then, “Buffalo. Solitary males.”

“Where?” we asked..

At Doria’s direction, we backed up a few steps to more clearly see two large buffalo grazing at the edge of a thicket. They seemed huge, about 40 yards away from us, half hidden in the light and shadows. We took photographs and, at Doria’s signal, moved on our way as quietly as we could. I remembered that both Doria and Ansell had told me: African buffalo kill more people each year than lions.

We had walked for just a few seconds when Doria and Ricetime froze again, each whispering a few words. I could feel the tension. Doria suddenly turned and commanded:

“Run!” We did, about 10 or 20 steps, then stopped. Ricetime had not moved a step, but he was holding his rifle at ready. I saw the end of the cocking motion as he readied himself. Doria had stepped back and to one side, moving away from the line of fire. Alfred was gone. The rest of us now were strung out over a 20-foot line.

We waited tensely. The nearest big tree seemed a mile away, but it was probably 40 yards or so. The bulls charged. My line of sight was obscured by bushes but Carol could see the bulls coming, but not directly at us. Their charge was misdirected. In a minute, Doria relaxed. So did Ricetime, but he continued to hold his rifle at ready.

“How could you see them?” I whispered to Doria.

“I couldn’t,” he said, “but I could hear them. They probably picked up our scent and were moving toward where we were a few steps back.”

Alfred returned. He had gone back a few yards into the bush to set a small grass fire to distract the buffalo.

Speaking in a normal voice as we regrouped, Doria said that buffalo in a herd are rarely dangerous unless actively threatened.

“The solitary males, kakuli, are always dangerous and will charge for no reason at all,” he said.

*

We arrived at Nsolo Camp without further incident. We joined Janelle, Doria’s wife and the manager of Nsolo Camp, for an expansive breakfast. We ate well, knowing that we would take a shorter hike with Doria and Ricetime later that day.

Following that drive, we sat in the dining area talking with the Dorias until late that night.

We heard how a pride of lions once walked into Nsolo Camp at night, apparently just to watch. The lions weren’t discovered until late, when people almost blundered into them on the way to their huts. When later we were escorted to ours by flashlight, we felt somewhat like Scouts who had been told scary stories around a campfire.

Thoughts of our day’s adventure tumbled through my mind as I fell asleep in the quiet of Nsolo, but I remember wishing that I could hear again the sweet, night calls of the puku.

I still do.

GUIDEBOOK

Walking

in Zambia

Getting there: From LAX fly British Airways to London, change planes and fly to Lusaka. Air France flies via Paris; South African Airways via Johannesburg. Round-trip fares start at about $3,270. Zambia Airways is the only airline that flies from Lusaka to Mfuwe airport.

Where to stay: Nsolo and Luwi camps can be booked through Kapani Safari Lodge, P.O. Box 100 Mfuwe, Zambia; tel. 011-260-62-45015; fax: 011-260-62-45025.

Other walking safaris: Regularly scheduled walking safaris are unusual. One of the few companies that offers them is Abercrombie & Kent, 1520 Kensington Road, Oakbrook, Ill. 60521; (800) 323-7308. However, other companies that specialize in African adventure tours will arrange them. Two travel agencies that will (prices vary widely and begin at about $500 for four days of no-frills experience, to $2,000 for a deluxe expedition):

Bushtracks African Expeditions, P.O. Box 4163, Menlo Park, 94026; (415) 326-8689. David Anderson Safaris, 4635 Via Vistosa, Santa Barbara, 93110; (800) 733-1789.

Our British travel agent, James Ewart of Grenadier Travel, 36 East Stockwell St., Colchester CO1 1ST, England; tel. 011-206-549585 and fax, 011-206-561337.