We departed on our game drive at 8 am. It took us about half an hour to descend into the crater on a reasonably well-maintained red-dirt road. Umbrella acacias arched over the road, forming a dense green canopy above our heads. The acacias slowly gave way to stunted shrubs and finally lush grasses as we approached the crater floor. En route we spotted a Hildebrand’s Francolin, an Auger Buzzard, a Nubian Vulture, and the first of many Abdim’s Storks. We passed a small herd of grazing zebra as the vast expanse of the crater came into view before us, the sun shimmering across the lake in the distance. A few sparse clouds hung beneath the rim of the crater and the slopes on the far side (eleven miles away, as I
recall) melded into hazy shades of green. Two spotted hyenas trotted into view, and then a good-sized herd of wildebeest appeared on the slope ahead of us. Within minutes we spotted our first lion – a lone lioness striding away from us, heading up a steep hill several hundred yards away. She disappeared behind a rock; a small herd of Cape Buffalo browsing on the crest of the hill seemed oblivious to her presence.
We continued onwards, approaching a much larger herd of wildebeest, many of which had newborn babies at their sides. We found ourselves in the midst of a veritable wildebeest nursery. The females all seemed to be giving birth on the right side of the road, nudging their young onto their feet within minutes and chasing them around for a bit to get them used to their wobbly legs. Then, once the babies were able to keep up, they headed across the road to the wildebeest kindergarten on the other side. Waiting in the wings (for the afterbirths and perhaps any newborns that didn’t make it) were two Rüppell’s Griffon Vultures and two African White-backed Vultures.
intelligence, and total wildness in that mesmerizing yellow gaze. She walked past our truck, sat down in the middle of the road for a few minutes, yawned, then got up and walked underneath my window. She was so close that I couldn’t focus on her with my zoom lens so I just put my camera down and stared. I was half-kneeling in my seat, my face practically out the window, and when the lioness paused to stare up at me again from less than four feet away, I pulled away in a totally spontaneous reflex – as if some ancient instinctive mechanism buried in my psyche was telling me that one should not stare directly into the eyes of a fierce predator! As we watched, the two lions lost interest in our trucks and headed slowly but purposefully up the hill in the same direction as the first lioness, and we all decided that they must be setting up for a hunt. They disappeared from view and we moved on, returning to spend some more time among the wildebeest.
After getting our fill of the lionesses, we headed for our picnic spot, as it was now approaching noon. We spotted a Rosy-breasted Longclaw, a Martial Eagle (
We forded a small stream and arrived at the picnic spot next to a marsh-rimmed lake teeming with hippos. We stopped to use the restroom (a “five-star facility”) and thought we were going to eat lunch, but Rodgers reported that he had received some “interesting information” so we all piled back into the trucks and headed back the way we had come.
The “something else” turned out to be the third of Ngorongoro’s resident lion prides (as I recall there are five prides in the crater). This time it was the pride with two male lions (a fairly unusual social arrangement). One of the males was lying in the shade of a truck when we arrived and the other was lounging regally on a low rise, a few feet away from a beautiful lioness who was taking a snooze on a warm rock. After a few minutes the female lifted her head and yawned. Rodgers told us, “That means she’s ready,” but we thought he was only kidding! Sure enough, the male yawned, the female got up and approached the male, and they mated right there in front of us, about thirty feet away. There was some grunting and yowling and then it was over. Rodgers informed us that the lions will mate every fifteen minutes or so over the course of several days. The male walked away and the female rolled over onto her back, then returned to her snoozing spot. The male lay down and yawned again, showing us a marvelous view of his impressive fangs.
On the way back to the picnic site we saw the cheetah again – apparently her hunt had been unsuccessful, as she was now stopping to take a drink at a small pond. It was after 2:00 when we finally stopped for lunch. Renny and the drivers set up a white-clothed table and laid out a feast of roast chicken, steak, samosas, vegetable quiche, salads, bread, cookies, and chocolate bars. Renny advised that we eat in the truck because a White-shouldered Kite was hovering over our heads, waiting for an opportune moment to snatch a bite – and maybe a finger or two. We were also joined by several cannibalistic Helmeted Guinea Fowl who fought over a chicken breast that Renny tossed to them. A Speke’s Weaverbird and several Superb Starlings fluttered nearby, hoping for a handout. As we ate we admired the view over the lake, which is bordered by a large marshy area known to be an elephant graveyard. We could hear occasional grunts, snorts, honks, and splashes coming from the hippos in the lake, but they stayed mostly submerged.
Ngorongoro, all under twenty-four hour surveillance by park rangers. Back in the 1990s a rhino left the crater and walked over 200 kilometers to the Serengeti, where he found some lady friends and mated. No one is sure quite what drove him to do this! He was closely guarded by rangers all along his journey and is still living happily in the Serengeti. Renny told us that rhino poachers can now be shot on sight or face seven years in prison and a $2,500 fine if they are caught with rhino trophies.