A few days later, we found what appeared to be male lion tracks which appeared at least reasonably large and quite fresh. While our trackers followed the tracks, we decided to drive around the area and see if they had crossed the road. Before long we saw vultures circling overhead and decided to have a look at what interested them. It wasn’t long before we came upon a pair of young male lions feasting on a fresh kill. It was around 9 am, so once they saw us, they moved off, not particularly quickly, but with purpose. We walked into the brush and found a freshly killed Lichtenstein’s hartebeest . . . a male with a good set of horns on him. It pretty quickly became clear why this particular animal had fallen prey to the lions - his right front foot had recently been severed, just above the hoof. Clearly, the work of a gin trap. Even though the poachers who’d placed the trap might not have been targeting hartebeest, they had cost Western Safaris the trophy fee on that animal, as surely as if they’d killed it themselves. This says nothing about the pain and suffering they also caused the animal, but it must have been horrific.
While we were looking for these lions, it was clear that the Coutada not far from us was on fire. The time for burning here is generally in late July apparently, when the grass is high and dry, but not so dry that fires will burn out of control. It’s unusual to see a fire in September, I’m told. We came across a group grading a road, and they told us the fire was started intentionally, but a wind came up and it’s jumped a road and is now out of control. The purpose of the grading was to create a fire break. We wished them well and drove into the fire. It reminds me of the past few months in Western Canada, when you would wake up thinking your home is on fire, and then realizing it’s “only” wildfires. There is one good thing which comes out of this. Our trackers find a cane rat, a (quite) substantial rodent, which wasn’t able to escape the fire and apparently will make a fine dinner. For them. We also see tortoises which were unable to escape, moving a little too slowly to escape flames, and they are well roasted. A shame.
While the two male lions which had been at the recent kill were too young, we hadn’t seen the owner of the third set of tracks. We decided to come back closer to last light and walk in to see if he might have come back. We arrived back at the kill at around 5:50 pm, and the two males were back, but there was no sign, or new tracks, of the third lion. He may have been on his own rather than with these two.
The next morning, we went back to the two lions which we had left feeding on the hartebeest; based on the camera data they had left around 6.30 am after finishing the kill. A quick inspection of the hartebeest showed there was virtually nothing left. One for the vultures. There are those who say that after a big meal, lions will lie around for some days. We saw this pair around 8 am chasing buffalo. Clearly, they hadn’t gotten the message.
A few days later, as we left camp for our afternoon hunt, we again saw smoke in the distance, and assumed it was either the older fire not yet out, or smoldering remains. As it grew dark though, it was clear that this was a new fire, and it was on our portion of the Coutada. We went to investigate and we were right. The area around a buffalo boma (where newly introduced buffalo are kept for a time to ensure they are disease free and to habituate) was in flames, and a scout camp had burned to the ground. The fence around the boma was also in flames. There really wasn’t anything we could do about this but James was clear that this fire had to have been set by a local village . . . and that there would be consequences.
This used to be a scout camp
We’d been hunting for a couple of weeks now and I noticed that newer tsetse bites were starting to induce swelling. Interesting and obvious swelling. I had a bite on the back of my left hand, and the entire hand was swollen to the point I couldn’t see the blood vessels there. And I had a swollen arm. No pain, just itching and swelling. I was pleased I’d thought to bring oral antihistamines with me. Cortisone cream wasn’t helping.
After a fruitless couple of days of lion hunting, we decided to try our hand at suni. There are a number of ways to hunt suni, all of which begin with going to where the suni are (!). They like reasonably open sand forest, and you can tell they’re present by droppings and, especially, middens. Once you’re in a suni area, you can walk slowly and hope to see a suni before it sees you, you can sit in a blind and hope to see a suni, or you can try calling suni. In some areas where suni are as common as rats, such as Coutada 11, I’m told walking with a .22 Hornet is the best approach, and you often get your pick of targets. We had suni, but apparently not in those numbers. (I did see some pictures which Zambezi Delta Safaris sent over of a suni they had recently shot, which may be a new world record.) Here, we decided to try calling suni.
James had what his brother, Ed, also a PH, said was a “non-specific” suni call. To me, if it walks like a duck. . . . and more importantly, it sounds like a duck, then it’s a duck call. But what do I know about calling suni?
Apart from the call, we had one new piece of kit. That was a pump action 12 gauge shotgun which Western keeps at camp. Fortunately, the plug was removed, and it held at least 8 shells, so I figured I had a chance.
The area we were in looked good, and there were suni droppings everywhere, as well as impressive middens. We began calling and within minutes . . . had called some very loud birds (although not ducks. I was a bit worried that we'd end up calling an ostrich, but relaxed when they told me there were none around). Eventually, we did see a suni, but it was a female. We moved around a bit, and called for a few hours, and saw another female, but never saw a male suni. I was somewhat encouraged that we were hunting in daylight and I'd likely get a look at the animal before shooting at it. But of course, first we had to find a (male) suni.
We continued to look for lions in the mornings and in the evenings, while looking for suni in the afternoons for the next few days. We called suni on a number of occasions, but now were seeing only duikers and the ubiquitous birds which came to the duck . . . I mean suni, call, regularly.
We did find a spot on the river (called Sable Springs) where we found the carcasses of four kudus, one of which was quite fresh. We put a bait there and re-visited it from time to time, although we never saw a lion there. The only difficulty with the location was that it was more than an hour’s drive from camp . . .
Waterbuck for bait
On our 14th day of hunting, we headed out early to look for lion tracks. We found none, which was a first. The day became hot - very hot (117 deg. on one game cam) - and we decided to take a bit longer rest at lunch. We headed back out at 4 pm to call for suni again and then to look for lion.
The first location we went for suni brought no results after a half hour, which didn’t surprise me because there were no middens in sight. We move some small distance to another location and began calling. Still no middens but within less than a minute, Matteo whispered that he’d seen movement directly in front of us. This was interesting because duikers don’t generally stand still, so the odds favored suni. James then whispered that he could see a suni and that it had horns and nice ones at that. The only problem was that I couldn’t see the suni. I’d left my binos in the truck (lesson there) and couldn’t make anything out in the brush in front of us. James tried to explain exactly where it was, while telling all of us not to move. I was having no luck finding the animal. Dean began to pass me his binos, very slowly, and I raised them to my eyes equally slowly. I then saw what I thought was the suni. Great. But as soon as I gave him the binos back, I couldn’t see the suni again. Oh well. That’s why they invented shotguns.
I aimed where I had seen the suni in the binos, and it immediately ran off. We raced towards the spot where it had been standing, but couldn’t see anything. Suddenly there was movement about 20 yards to our right and James said “shoot.” I didn’t have a shot, but we raced after it again. It had stopped but again began to run away from us and one last shot summersaulted it. We ran up to it, and while it wasn’t quite dead, it wasn’t going anywhere.
And so ended my not always focused but more than 10 year quest for the Tiny Ten. There was a bit of a celebration when we got back to camp that evening - a new bottle of Chivas 18 was opened (and finished - but not by me - can’t stand scotch!), which was quite touching. I’m used to celebrations around certain animals, but I’m not sure sunis generally get that kind of treatment. I was pleased that this one did.
As soon as I can get around to it, I plan to post another thread regarding my quest for the Tiny Ten.