One of the Lower Zambezi park's specialities is the elephants. They grow big here, and with a single glance, you know that there are a lot of them.
Imagine looking down at the ground immediately after a prolonged hailstorm. Now imagine that the hailstones are actually six inch balls of elephant poo. It's not rocket science.
In October the dry season is coming to an end, and in some places the Zambezi river is shallow enough for the elephants to wade across and feed on the lush islands which have so far survived the season ungrazed. Though elephants swim well, the currents and perils of the river in the wet season make crossing difficult for adults and dangerous for the calves.
Elephants love water, so the daily crossings are an elephant joyfest with lots of splashing and mischief among the groups. Elephants are more exuberant when there's water around. Playing allows them to let off steam. So the hormone-flooded, teenage-angsty, mock-chargey young males can learn that there's more fun to be had in life than just intimidating innocent wildlife photographers and crapping anywhere you like.
Another behaviour that I had hoped to see was an elephant standing on its hind legs. Etienne had photographed one a few weeks previously, so there was a possibility.
Not many elephants have learned to stand on two legs. It doesn't come naturally - it's a deliberate technique which has to be taught and copied.
They do it at the end of the dry season, when the lower branches on the trees have been all but stripped by the grazers.
To reach the food-laden higher branches one daredevil elephant, back in in medieval elephant times, attempted the unlikely acrobatics, and then taught the technique to others in the family. They in turn told their offspring, and so on.
It was a sight that I had really hoped to see, as it offered potential in three diverse areas of interest- Mammalian Physiology, Inherited Behaviour in African wildlife, and the 'Animals doing hilarious things' section on YouTube. Full frontal images of a wild African elephant grabbing air could, I reasoned, be of great biological and comedic significance.
When we arrived at Old Mondoro, though, Etienne hadn't spotted his perpendicular pachyderm for over two weeks, and thought that it had moved on.
Maybe the elephants sensed my disappointment, because five minutes out from camp on our first afternoon, an elephant obligingly elephated for us, and then performed two encores.
Now, there's something you don't see every day.
Interestingly, it seemed that only one elephant in a family would perform the feat. The others would wait for it to rear up and snap off a decent branch. Then they'd steal it.
To me, this seems to demonstrate more intelligence than learning the trick in the first place. So after much studying of field notes and analysis of the behaviour displayed, my scientific conclusions for 'project aerial elephant' are as follows:
Elephants that stand on two legs are clever, athletic and comedy gold (as expected). Ones that don't are of dubious character and should not be left alone with your groceries.
No comments:
Post a Comment