Hippo Wanderings
Article Photos My newsletter in February mentioned the birth of our first hippo calf for 2004, Bobin, born to Odile and Robin. As you can see from Bobin’s photo, he/she is growing well. I still do not know whether Bobin is a male or a female as I have not been able to watch hardly any of the hippos on land as of late. Their behaviour has been quite different from the previous years. In fact, the hippos have all been quite strange as of late. I have had another young female leave the group, and, at one stage, all mature females were acting quite contrary to their usual ways.
At the end of January, Brucie-Blackface’s older daughter, nearly six years of age-left the group. At first I thought she had gone off and joined Tembia, the younger bull. At present, Tembia is across the river in the other main channel, living in a small, secluded, natural rocky pool. As the river has not been crossable on foot, we have not been able to find out if Brucie had joined Tembia. But, now, some months later we have discovered that he is alone. In March, all the older females chased off their latest calves. Even Surprise and Cheeky, who had the youngest calves, Sabi and Hope, born respectively in April and February 2002, did not want their youngsters close by them. If any calf approached its mother, she would automatically chase it, even lunge at it, trying to bite if the calf did not move off in time.
This kind of behaviour normally occurs when a female is close to having a new calf, or so I have observed in previous years. Any time from two months to two weeks before the birth, the mother will drive her previous calf away. This is to stop it from suckling milk intended for the new calf’s arrival, to wean it from its mother’s side. It can be quite a traumatic time for the calf, obviously not understanding why its mother-with whom it has spent up to three years-suddenly wants nothing to do with it anymore. The situation usually returns to normal about two months after the birth of the new calf. By then, the baby knows exactly who its mother is, the previous calf no longer has need for milk or even the inclination to suckle, and its mother allows it back close to her and the new sibling. Then it is allowed to sniff its new brother or sister and within a week or two they are playing with each other, the hippo calf game: open-mouthed pushing competitions.
These jousting games can get quite rough as the baby grows older, each hippo often launching their tiny bodies over each other as they play, looking more like an agile dolphin than a baby hippo. I managed, in our video For the Love of Hippos, (for sale on this site), to show quite a bit of footage of calves playing in such a boisterous manner.
Once the siblings know each other well, their mother will normally allow them both to lean on her body again. The previous calf is no longer chased away from its mother’s side. This happens nearly always with female offspring but some male calves are permanently driven away after the birth of a new calf.
This seems to depend on the age of the offspring, as well as its own determination to stay with the mother and get the brunt of her attacks, or give in and eventually leave the group altogether. Young males here in the Turgwe are normally gone from the family group by around four to five years of age, although there have been two exceptions. Tembia, the young, newly matured bull, stayed with his mother Lace until he was eight and a half years of age, when she had a new calf, Enfin. In between that time in 2001 and Tembia’s birth back in 1993, Lace had one calf that was killed in 1996 and
perhaps one other that died naturally. It was only when Enfin came along that Tembia finally left his mother.The other male that is still with his mother at present is Storm, the one son of Cheeky. He is now nearly seven and a half years old, and is a very big hippo, looking more like his father Bob than his mother Cheeky, who is a small female and takes after her own father Happy. Storm’s younger brother, Mvura, was driven off when Cheeky gave birth to Hope, in 2002, and yet somehow Storm managed to stay with the family. He has managed to stay, even after the death of his father Bob, and the arrival of Robin and Tembia. He was attacked by one of them in 2003, receiving two really nasty looking deep gashes on his neck and one hind foot. He is now fully recovered with just tiny scars where the huge deep gashes used to be, and has been accepted into Robin’s family.
I thought earlier on this year that he had finally been chased off, which is always a sad time for me. I cannot help but become attached to all these hippos, knowing most of them from birth or close to their birth. Males usually leave the area altogether so I lose touch with them. Therefore, it is always dreadfully sad to have a young male that I have known for four to seven years go away. Tembia is the exception to the rule as I have known him since his birth in June 1993, and have been following his life since that day. He is now upstream, living as a dominant bull hippo with females joining him from time to time.
Two weeks after young Storm seemed to have gone, he reappeared at the pool accompanied by two of the 2000 female calves- Tacha and Climber. Now as I write, he is back in his normal position in the family, right next to his mother Cheeky and his little sister Hope. Once more he is a part of Cheeky’s family. The hippos were giving me quite a big run around though, with, at most, 12 of them in one pool at a time. But normally there was just one or two in one pool and a few others in another pool, and so on. I spent many hours during the day trying to locate all of the family.
At that time, Blackface-mother of Inonde and Brucie-became even more aggressive than she normally is. On two occasions she left the pool and charged me. She has done this in the past, so I am aware of her temperament, and always am cautious on approaching the pool when Blackface is in a prominent position. I actually enjoy her attitude as it keeps me on my toes, stopping me from becoming too blasé with the Turgwe Hippos. When you spend over 14 years of your life with a group of hippos that are born wild but know you as part of their environment, who know their own names and have become used to you being in their lives, it is very easy to forget to respect them for their own wild hippo ways. A hippo is a large animal: a bull can weigh in at around 3 tons, the average female around 1.5 tons. They can outrun a human running at speeds of up to 25 miles per hour!
They may have short legs in comparison to the rest of their somewhat large looking body, but they are immensely strong. I have found their tracks where they have climbed up small rocky mountains around our home. The trek up the rocky hills taxes me and makes my own legs sore, yet a large animal like a hippo can often be found walking into some strange areas. One hippo back in the 1800s was known to have walked over 1000 miles in South Africa. She was on a mission, probably in search of a mate, but, even so, people were amazed that she traveled such a distance.
Here I have found that the hippos walk, on average, within an area of about 3 square miles in search of grazing each night. Yet they will walk further during the rains, as there are more pools to move to, as well as water in natural pans, inland from the river. Females from the Turgwe River have left here to move to the Sabi River, which, as the crow flies, is approximately 20 miles from their normal pool.
The pathways that the hippos create to climb up the rocky hills are immensely steep. Often I find their tracks up practically vertical passages, yet they use them time and time again. It is true that they do not lift their legs high, but they can push obstacles off their paths or just move around them, and steep climbs seem to not bother them at all. I believe they climb the “kopjes”, since at the top there is often a flat plateau of nice grass which attracts them. To meet one of the hippos on those narrow paths at night would be very dangerous as the hippo would feel cornered and would probably attack
before trying to escape back down the hill to the river.When Blackface charges you, she normally raises her body up in the water first then lunges forward, with her own momentum bringing her up and out onto the steeply inclined river bank. That is, if she is angry enough. I have learnt over the years to never underestimate Blackface or for that matter not to become overly confident with any of the hippos. My bond with the huge bull, Bob, I have written of in previous mails. His ways were in many ways unique, and it will take another very special hippo to fill the space that Bob’s death has left. The main thing with the hippos, or any animal for that matter, is respect; that is the key to understanding them and their ways. The female Turgwe hippos continued to be angry at their calves throughout March, April, and into May. Then what I had hoped for occurred.
On the 7th May, at Bob’s weir in the evening, I found Mystery, mother of Kuchek- the cutest male calf born in March 2001- and with her was her newborn calf, born probably in the early hours of that morning. Mystery had been one of the mothers chasing away her son Kuchek, so at least her behaviour was now accountable. I could not believe my luck, as- thanks to the Friends of the Hippo group- I now have a new digital video camera. This is used for
my study purposes and I hope to have a new film about the Trust and these hippos for sale by Christmas of this year. I managed to capture some amazing footage of the new calf that day and the next. I filmed the tiny calf walking in the shallows of the weir pool behind its mother. At one stage, the calf and Mystery were in the weir pool near the wall. Suddenly, young Kuchek appeared, having been hidden under reeds. Like any calf he was keen to be next to his mother, as well as meet his new sibling. As the baby was only two days old, there was no way Mystery would allow her previous son close contact, so she attacked him. For several minutes, poor Kuchy found himself trapped by a submerged log next to the reeds, whilst his mother gave him quite a thrashing. He finally managed to get away.I caught it all on video camera but could not help worry, as Kuchek is young and also one of my favorite calves; he is such a lovely hippo. Kuchek though, like his namesake- a little Welsh Mountain pony that I had the honour of growing up with-is a very tenacious and strong-willed hippo.
For the next week, he persisted in staying close to Mum and baby, until his dogged determination paid off. He is now, as I write, only about ten feet from both his mother and the calf. She has allowed him to be there even when the new calf is still very young indeed. The calf has been named Zen by Mystery’s foster parents- a lovely Japanese couple who adore hippos. They've adopted Zen as well. I expect Zen will probably be another male, as Mystery has already had two sons, but again I will have to be patient and wait until I can see Zen clearly on land.Normally, the hippos all lie upon the sandbank in our winter months. Like myself, they do not like cold weather. The river water can become very cold in our winter, from April through to about late August, and so they usually leave the water just after dawn and lie in the sun on the sandbank. They return to the river at around two o’clock. This year, though, they have totally changed their habits. Most of them are leaving the pools and moving to the island of thick bush adjacent to the river. In there are a couple of areas where there aren't many trees and they can lie in the sun, but it makes it very difficult for me to see them. I think this has occurred due to the constant harassment of the hippos by those people that invaded this wildlife conservancy back in 2001. We know they are poaching daily and we patrol the area to remove the snares that they leave to kill the animals. Yet, these days, we are not finding very many snares. They have taken to bringing in packs of dogs and hunting with bows and arrows.
In the areas we patrol, we have found only 40 snares since the beginning of this year, compared to just over 200 at the same time last year. Yet there is a scarcity of animals. Many have moved away from these badly poached areas, crossing the river and staying in places where these people are not living. A lot of animals have been killed and I think, at this moment, many are hiding. When poachers move into an area with dogs it becomes like an area that has a natural predator in it- for example, the painted wild dog or lion. Animals that can move away, which are not territorial, will move until the predator has gone.
The game scouts from the two properties close to us have at times bumped into poachers with dogs. Normally they see four men with up to twenty dogs. The men use the dogs as a pack to hunt down the animals, then they shoot the quarry with their bows and arrows. Only a few days ago, just two miles from our home, the scouts intercepted four men with 17 dogs. They shot one dog but the men pulled their bows on the game scouts and then ran off.
We have been hearing chopping noises at night, so last night Jean-Roger went out with the shotgun to see if he could hear from which area these sounds came. At night in the bush, sound travels from even quite a long distance away. As it was a near to full moon, it was easier to walk in the bush. The chopping is the noise these men make when they cut the meat from an animal. Jean could locate the area, but being all on his own in the moonlight, it was not a good idea to move in. So he fired a shot in the air, hoping to scare the men away. We went back to that area this morning, but could find absolutely no evidence of what they had been cutting up. No sign of snares and no tracks, but we know that somebody had been there; they are just paying more attention to how they poach these days.
We have to believe that somehow this madness will eventually stop and that the government will remove these people from this area and allow the wildlife to get on with their lives. At the moment, the owners of the various ranches in this wildlife conservancy are having negotiations with the government. We can only pray and hope that the end result will be for the animals to continue having their own wild lives, and for these people to go back to profitable farming areas, and stop killing Zimbabwe’s natural wealth: the wild animals.
On a positive note, amidst all the problems we face these days, Jean-Roger is now a free man. The case against him for shooting the poacher has been dismissed due to lack of evidence. Jean-Roger accidentally wounded the guy, who had been trying to kill our wild warthog Naf Naf, hunting literally at the bottom of our camp with his dogs. When Jean was about to shoot one of the dogs, the poacher came back to grab his bow and arrows which unbeknown to Jean were on the ground just where the dog was standing. So Jean-Roger shot him by accident.
The case has been on remand since June of last year, and a few days ago Jean-Roger was told by the court that it is all over. The guy had previously admitted he was poaching and it was on our own small property. It is a great relief for us as you can imagine, but sadly the problems in Zimbabwe are not over. We cannot live an ordinary life anymore. It is impossible to leave here for more than a night, two at the most. Having the so-called war veteran and his minions one mile down the road, with that road being the only route away from our own home, makes things awkward. We have nobody we know who could come here and caretake our home and the animals, so we have to remain here at all times.
The people obviously know whenever we drive out of here, and so to go away for an extended period is impossible. We have seen what just one day away for shopping in Chiredzi (70 miles from here) can do. They have, in the past, set fire to the bush around our home, or they have poached fish with nets below our house, or they just put snares, and they often do this the day we are in Chiredzi.
We know, because we have sometimes changed plans suddenly, catching them either fishing or having put down snares which we find immediately. So we no longer can leave here, and have not been able to even stay at my mothers' for more than two nights once a year in the last four years. My mother lives in a place called Kariba, which is a 12 hour drive from our home. Sadly she cannot see me as often as she would like. Jean-Roger has been unable to go back to his legitimate work as a geologist since these problems here began. He knows that if he leaves me here alone, which was the case for seven years before the invasions began, I could be in physical danger. These people always go for soft targets and, in their eyes, a woman is a soft touch. I am a pretty determined person, but I am still female-five foot four and not particularly heavy or strong, so yes I could be overpowered. I refuse to stop patrolling and removing snares and could never stop visiting the hippos and studying them. Jean-Roger is afraid that if he went back to work he might not find his wife or his home in one piece when he returned. In the old days, he would work away for three weeks and come home for one week but these days we are together daily, and just keep hoping for a few miracles.
Both of us are writing books. Mine, obviously, is the story of these hippos. In Jean-Roger’s case, he hopes to begin a new career, so that if this mess here is over one day, at least we will have an income from something. We have managed to survive here on our savings, and on the odd photo or story that I manage to sell. Some very kind, lovely people who are hippo foster parents, personal friends, family, or just kind animal people, have helped us personally in the last few years. They've sent us goodie parcels of food, or even clothing, an entertaining film video to watch, and in some cases financial assistance. These parcels in the post mean so so much to us, and I cannot thank you all enough for your kindness. Without you,
we would have had far more problems.We do not wish to continue living such an undecided fate for the next twenty years, but, like any person who has decided to believe in the future of Zimbabwe, we cannot afford to lose hope. Where I am exceedingly lucky is that these animals, be it the hippos, or just the other animals that share our life, keep me steady. They are my focus, my life, and so when a new calf like Bobin or Zen comes along, or just when Blackface behaves like Blackface and brings my adrenaline up by a charge, I can smile. I can be at peace.
For Jean-Roger, life is much harder, but we have each other and our own love has grown stronger in the last four perilous years, so we have that to be thankful for. Often when people are put under an intensely stressful period of their life, it can upset a partnership, for it is definitely a test. Yet we are managing it pretty well and, if anything, Jean-Roger now appreciates the animals far more than he ever used to do. He fights for their right to a life as much as I do these days.
We are also oddities in this environment, as we do not make our money from the wildlife. We are not in the safari business, and we are both opposed to hunting. We do not kill; I am a vegetarian and could never harm an animal. We are looked upon, by both black and white people around us, as not quite right in the head. This is because we do not kill animals, or make money from the animals, and we protect them daily and they are not even ours. People do not understand this kind of mentality. Though I always find it funny to hear a person say, “ I own this animal or that.” We do not even own ourselves! How can we possibly own any living thing?
The hippos are being affected by all of these problems as we are. The people here who have moved onto land that will never make money for them from farming, and who at this moment are making money from killing animals, will eventually starve; already some are dying. Many have AIDS, so their immune system is fragile; others get malaria, and here the malaria is cerebral. Both Jean-Roger and I have just had malaria. Silos, the guy who helps us here, tells me that it is “black magic” that is killing the people, but whatever it is, some are dying already.
In my last newsletter, I wrote about the people harassing the elephants, chasing them and using stones and noise to try and drive them away. I told you they would end up hurt if they continued to behave in such a manner. Well, a so-called war veteran’s wife was killed by an elephant only a month or so ago. She was walking with her donkey and cart through one of the ranches on her way to the land next to us these people have invaded.
The elephant probably was from the same herd that had been harassed the previous week. National Parks scouts had come into this wildlife conservancy, staying right next to our home with the so-called war veteran, Robert, and had shot above the heads of the one elephant herd. Parks had also, in the previous couple of weeks, killed three elephant bulls in this conservancy, that were supposedly raiding the invaders' crop lands. Shooting above the cow herds head was supposed to make the elephants leave this area. Now, the people are living right in the middle of this conservancy and have planted maize and cotton in the center of the wild animals' territory, next to the Turgwe River. So, of course, the elephants use those routes. The National Parks scouts shoot above the herd’s heads, and of course this upsets the elephants. Imagine being a family out in the bush in search of food, having walked the same area for the last twelve years without anyone ever hurting you, then-BOOM! Shots are fired and you hear that other bull elephants have been killed, and of course you are afraid. You have tiny baby elephants to protect. What can you do? You fight back of course.
A woman died as a result. She was the wife of a self-styled war veteran, and part of the people who invaded here but she should not have
died, as she should not have been here in the first place. This land is for the wild animals. You can only destroy something for a short period of time and then it is all gone, and often gone forever. Every large old mopane tree these people burn, every animal they kill, is one less tree, one less animal. If they continue at the rate they have destroyed over the last three years, there will be nothing at all left within the next few years. Yet we still believe that somehow this will end up like in all good stories-with a happy ending, that these people will go back to their real homes/farms (many of them own three or four farms in the Reserves) and leave these animals in peace.I think that Surprise hippo, possibly Abe, and maybe even Blackface are all pregnant, and that by the time I write my next newsletter, one or all of them will have become new mothers again. Since my study of these hippos began in 1993, 18 hippos have left this area. That is normal behaviour, so when Brucie and Inonde moved off this year, and Kubi and Libra last year, I must believe they are fine. I must believe that, like all the other Turgwe Hippos over the last decade, they have just moved on in search of new mates, a new area in which to live.
Females also do sometimes come back years later, so I hope one day to be able to say to the foster parents of hippos like Rain, Flood, Brucie, Libra and all the others that they have come home. That, like Indian, they came home with a calf, and in her case it was Mystery. Mystery now has just shown me her third calf since she came here with her mother. Where there is new life there is always hope.
In the meantime, these hippos thank all of you who care for them, and all people who care for animals in general, for being there for them. We may be here on the ground doing the physical work, yet without supporters of wildlife, the wildlife would not exist. The foster parents of these hippos are the backbone of the Turgwe Hippo Trust, and we all thank you immensely for being there. Without Alice Egoyan running this site for us, we could not tell you about the hippos and their lives. Without so many good people out there, none of this would exist. So from Jean-Roger, myself and all the hippos and the animals that share this life, we salute you all.
Karen Paolillo, Hippo Haven, Save Valley Conservancy, Zimbabwe. 31st May 2004.
NEWSFLASH!!! Abe
just brought new calf to Bob's old weir pool. Saw her without calf on 28th
arrived
with it today 4th, so calf
probably born on 1st June. Great news, third baby this year!
The new hippo's name is
Tsakus (which means 'dear one' in Armenian)
See photos of the new hippo
calves here!
Bobin, at two months old, next to Odile. |
Storm and Tacha when he came back to the weir with her. |
In background, one of the "kopje's" that the hippos climb. |
One day old Zen next to mother Mystery. |
Three-week old Zen with mother Mystery. |
Kuchek on right allowed back close to Zen and Mystery; Zen is only just over three weeks old. |
Female kudu and her calf at dusk. |
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