Caught, not caught and a fisherman's smile

It’s another early start. By 4:30am, with the sun not yet up, we are in position and by 5am we are ready to go. Slightly further east than yesterday, we are against the fenceline, and there is more bush around. A better area to conceal the nets. And today we seem to have made a square W with the nets. Kristal and I position ourselves next to the middle arm of the W. A Bundox fellow squat under a bush closeby. A giant rising sun peeks over the horizon and lazily starts to climb higher. Gerry has taken off in the chopper and lying in wait we can soon hear him on his way back. He sounds the siren as a final push and through the bushes come the excited shouts of people running, people catching the writhing animals. Phillip rushes up to inject the valium.

The chopper comes around again. A female runs past us, just the other side of the bushes, looking for cover. She spots the net and makes a left turn, straight towards us. She crashes into the nets and a Bundox guy is on her. She breaks free. And gets tangled a few metres away. I’m right on her now. I reach down to grab her, but she slips out of my hands. Disentangling herself completely she streaks off and straight into another net, where eager hands secure her and cart her away to the trailer.

Phillip is now closeby, just behind a bush. He is dead-keen to make a capture!

A young male comes tearing past, chased on by the siren of the chopper. As always, Gerry is flying sideways to present a more intimidating figure. Phillip hares off after the buck. Through the branches we seem him go down, caught by the power and agility of this creature who with a last minute side-step bounced him straight off his feet.

Very soon there are 11 on the trailer and back of the bakkie. We only have space for 12. And then Gerry chases one into the eastern U of the UU, right in front of us. The male reedbuck, like many before him, spots the net and ducks left. Hard left. And straight into the net next to us. I’m on me feet and running, straining to cover the 20m before the animal escapes. I grab a kicking hind leg, and then another. I look up and a Bundox capture guy has arrived at the same time to grab the horns. Reedbuck secured. Lala joins me on the back legs, one each. We carry it to the truck and with some difficulty we load it into the trailer.

I climb up with one of the guys, to open the vents on the roof and check the sexes for Phillip. Three males and six males on the trailer. One of the males is sitting down like a dog. Odd. And then we notice his horn is caught in the door and quickly release him. Twelve reedbuck, safely caught in just over an hour!

Phillip, Kristal and I join up with Jimson, Nkosi and Nkosinathi back at Mandatane. After heading off to feed the buffalo in the boma we go to fix the pump on the Mkuze River. This is the pump that feeds Imagine Dam, Main Camp and of course our house. The water is a muddy brown, no wonder that the pump is clogged. I take Kristal over to see the rickety suspension bridge. It is occupied. By a fisherman. An old Zulu man in tattered clothing. Stick in hand he repeatedly plops a fig into the water. Attached to a hook, attached to a bit of twine. I walk over on the bridge, and then past him and we chat for some time. It turns out he is Nkosinathi’s brother, Bheki. Older brother he confirms, although it is somewhat obvious. I’m skeptical about the fishing method but then twice I see a flash of white, the belly of a fish having a go at the plopping fig. We must be quiet he tells us. The fish like it when you are quiet. Another beautiful, spontaneous interaction. All in Zulu. Under the shade of giant sycamore figs that reach across the swiftly flowing river towards each other.

Phillip swings by the house at about 4pm. We are off to try catch the poor hyena who has been wearing a snare-necklace for some weeks now. We pick up the game capture team at Bayete and all meet up with Tristan. He will dart the hyena. If we can get to her. Tristan and tracker Zama are in the Landie, the rest of us in a single Cruiser. We get to the den and she is not around. Tristan moves off and starts playing a tape of a squealing warthog. We stay behind to see if she’ll emerge from the den. A few sessions of squealing over a loudspeaker and we spot movement behind the bushes. It’s her. Not in the den after all, but at least around.

Tristan comes back and they head off-road after her, a dead nyala on the back of the Landrover. The plan: drag the nyala behind the vehicle. Get her to follow until she walks into a rope foot snare. Then dart her and remove the wire snare. No foot snare and she’ll just head for the den when the dart goes in.

Two male hyena also appear on the scene. No luck getting them to follow the bait so they tie it to a tree. We watch all this from 50m away, still on the road in front of the den. Sitting down on the back of the Cruiser so we don’t break the shape of the vehicle and scare them off. The males move in to the bait. We can hear them ripping off chunks of nyala. The female is skittish and won’t come into range for Tristan. It is dark now. Lightening and thunder are joined by rain and after half an hour of waiting, we head off home. For a good, solid rest.