Feeding the Carnivores

Today I dug a hole. Really. I did other very cool and interesting things, but most of the day was spent with a spade and 50 cm of hard packed dirt that just wouldn't shift. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The day started with a bracing cold wash (the hot water is on only from 4:30-10:00pm), and then I walked over to the lapa area for breakfast. I always pass the cheetah cub enclosure to get to the rest of camp from my tent, and it's pretty amazing that this is the first thing that greets me in the mornings.

But they weren't that keen on getting caught being playful and messing about. I guess they have a reputation to maintain.

As a new joiner, I first went to induction where they reminded us of all the animals that could eat/kill us such as the puff adder. They can get as much as three meters long and as fat as your arm. We were assured that they're not common, but we found a lovely example hanging out by one of the tents the very next day. Oops.

We then helped some of the others with food preparation where I made the day's food for the baby warthogs. Milliepap is pretty gross - I think it's a corn porridge, and the texture is just yuck.

Luckily, the staff is responsible for butchering the horses and donkeys that are fed to the carnivores. The animals aren't fed cows or goats or anything resembling livestock in case they're released and develop a taste for it. Farmers are much more likely to shoot a big cat that's attacking their cattle than not.

Besides, I'm not sure how I'd fare against the meat machine. I'm guessing not well, and one of the staff was sporting a bandage from a nasty run-in with the blade.

After induction, I met up with my assigned group - all girls and one guy. They were a pretty chill group, and we jumped into the back of a pick up truck packed full of water, large hunks of meat and a split donkey head.

It's amazing that the animals are accustomed to coming when they see the truck - they know that we're bringing them food and run right alongside the truck.

We fed the leopards first, and I utterly failed in my attempt to chuck the giant hunk of meat over the fence. I think I was too terrified to see straight, let alone throw. Luckily, the leopard was able to swipe the meat with his giant claws. I later redeemed myself when I fed the cheetahs, probably because I figured that I could survive a bite or two from a cheetah whereas I would be a goner if a leopard ever decided I'd make a tasty morsel.

As you can see, most of the cats jump up for their meat and the more skittish ones run off with it after they snatch it from the air so they can dine in peace.

By the end of the drive, we had fed the leopards, cheetahs, hyenas, wild dogs and lions. The lions were the lucky recipients of the donkey head.

We took a break for lunch (nothing gets your appetite going like handling half a donkey's head) and washed off some of the congealed blood. I was on my way to rejoin my group when I was flagged down to herd some goats. Sure, why not? Luckily, it turned out I'm a far better goatherd than I am a leopard meat thrower.

Our group piled back into the truck with our spades and some Bushmen to dig a foundation for the platform being erected over the wild dog enclosure. It turns out that digging a hole in the dirt is much more exciting when a herd of thirty wild dogs want to take a bite out of your bottom!

We had three sentries guarding us with long sticks if the dogs came too close. Before we entered the enclosure, our coordinator reminded us that wild dogs don't kill before eating their prey and that their bite is gangrenous. Oh, and the entire group will coordinate an attack on a single target rather than spreading out. It was even less reassuring to see how reluctant the Bushmen were to enter the enclosure.

I just hunkered down and focused on digging that hole as fast as possible so we could get out of there. Some safari guests came trucking on over to watch us - fun for them, not so much for us. We packed it in at sunset, and I was relieved that we all made it in one piece back to camp for a good wash and well-deserved dinner.