A Huge, Roaring Fire Exacts Its Toll In The Game Reserve Than The Elephant Kingdom Had Ever Experienced
Shortly after the great flood, Mayafudi’s ambitions were realised. He became the leading bull in his herd. The right hand of Matcheleni. In various mock battles or sparring bouts, he proved his mettle. With his imposing stature, guts, strong personality, self-assurance and intelligence, he was indeed an asset to his herd.
The cows vied for his attention. After 20 months he became the proud sire of various calves from the bloodline of Mafunyane and Ukuthula. He was in his prime, without any challengers and with roots deeply sprung in the beloved home of his herd along the Sabie River.
He was respected in elephant circles where it mattered, and game rangers were very much aware of his existence. On the elephant trails of the reserve he left deep tracks – and he felt satisfied. Of the difficult early times when his temper was severely tested, only faint memories lingered. Life was good. He was thankfully indebted to a higher power which he could not define or explain but without which – he believed – nature could not function properly.
Then came the next disaster. Suddenly, one evening, the western horizon appeared to be one large red blanket. A rumbling sound, like the engines of the chartered planes that regularly flew loads of tourists to land at Skukuza airport, kept approaching. The strong stench of smoke seemed overpoweringly near. Driven by a gale, a stinking blanket of dense smoke was spread over the southern and central parts of the game reserve.
A programme of controlled burning since 1954 was temporarily suspended for a few years. The drama which now unfolded was euphemistically named accidental fires.
Lightning or carelessness was usually the cause of such accidental fires
A cigarette end carelessly flicked away by an unthinking tourist or camp official could cause enormous fires, destroying thousands of hectares of valuable reservation vegetation. Poachers and other trespassers who light fires to keep predators at bay, are a constant fire hazard.
Camping fires of temporary “bushcamps” – such as those for the “Work for water” teams which destroy noxious weeds, or for of women from the trust areas (Tshabalala, Huntington, etc.) who came to cut grass for the roofs of park property – also contribute to the fire risk.
In spite of their sensitive sensors, their almost magic sensitivity to smells and strange rumblings underfoot – it did not immediately register with the elephants that a gigantic disaster was threatening. Even though these flames presented an awe-inspiring spectacle, huge veld fires in August/September are not strange events, they consoled one another. In any event, they knew of firebreaks that normally controlled serious fires.
They were anxious, however. It often happened that animals were cornered and killed by fires, especially if the wind suddenly changed direction. Even the largest of the big game, such as elephant and rhino, fell prey. The message was clear – be awake, alert, watchful and do not be caught napping.
Ominous news filtered through. Huge flames were rolling along, scorching large tracts of land. Wilfulness, carelessness or acts of nature, whatever the cause might be, the destruction circled outward. The season of fires was busy exacting its toll in the game reserve on a larger scale than even senior citizens in the elephant kingdom had ever experienced.
With deep dismay the animals observed how tragedy escalated day after day. Urgent evacuation had to be planned. Matcheleni’s herd had regular meetings. But whence could they go? From everywhere, north, south, east and west reports were disheartening.
A large part of the reserve had already succumbed and was scorched beyond recognition or still burning. Smaller animals had already fled in panic. Many had hidden in holes underground or in crevices. Many were too slow. Whilst Matcheleni’s herd were still undecided as to the best solution, a night of horror ensued.
A runaway fire started near the rest camp Pretoriuskop in the south. The Nape basecamp, one of the eight overnight camps for hikers, was razed completely. Fortunately the hikers were not there. Firefighters and equipment were sent post haste from Skukuza, Lower Sabie and Berg-en-Dal. The army sent an emergency team.
Flames, such as never before seen in the Kruger Park, rolled onwards in fury. Dozens of animals were burnt to death: elephant, rhino, lion, kudu, waterbuck, steenbok, duiker, warthog, leopard tortoise, bush partridge, too many to name.
The flames reached the temporary tent camp of the thatch-grass cutters. The fear-crazed women saw the wall of flames approaching. Some of them just started running blindly into the dark night. Some ran directly into the flames. Others fell and were caught up by the inferno. Eventually 20 women died and a further 20 were seriously burnt. Many thousands of bundles of thatch-grass were charred. Remembering Ukuthula’s Grave & The Elephants Who Died In The Kruger Park
A north-westerly mountain wind initially prevented the fire from jumping the road. Without warning, however, the northwester became a very strong southeaster. A group of wardens who were commandeered to fight the fire, anxiously tried to establish backburn. When the wind swung around, they fled into the trees. There they were cornered and burnt to death.
By this time the flames were completely out of control. Tongues of fire jumped across the tarred road to Phabeni Gate. It then sped along the riverbank, ever nearer to the Kruger Gate.
Shortly after midnight the heat glow of the approaching flames – more than 500 degrees C – hit Matcheleni’s herd head-on. Suddenly they were encircled on three sides. Their only hope was the road to the rest camp Skukuza.
Over glowing embers they aimed eastward. Their thick, soft footpads, the cushions with which elephants are equipped to prevent them from slipping and to mask the sound of cracking branches, became more painful with every step. Their progress was also impeded by the presence of a lame young cow, which the herd did not wish to leave in the lurch. They protected her with great compassion.
Matcheleni valiantly tried to maintain discipline. Confusion and fear, however, created a situation which she could not control. Then Mayafudi, the general, stepped in. He ran ahead to determine the best route, then he rushed back to assist the stragglers, driving them by means of his swinging trunk. If any of his troop should stumble or fall, that same trunk would act as a life line. As fast as possible he would help them back on their feet. Because, once you fall and don’t rise again, you’ll burn to death.
When they reached the tarred road it was like a furnace. On both sides, as far as the eye could behold, the veld between the Kruger Gate and Skukuza was one crackling blanket of flames.
Mayafudi – tired to death and with foot pads form which the blood oozed – suddenly realised with a shock that his herd was incomplete. The flight route was too difficult and too far for three small calves. Two of them were his own offspring – from the bloodline of Mafunyane.
Nothing could stop him. He stormed back. Back through the flames which became more intense by the minute. Then he reached them – three charred little bodies, close to one another, barely twenty metres short of safety. It broke his heart. The huge body convulsed as with unbearable pain.
At that moment he felt like kneeling down and collapsing and waiting for his own death. But how could he? Matcheleni would depend upon him. His leadership had become more vital than ever before. Then he swung around. He hobbled back to the road on bloody feet which became more and yet more painful. The smell of the burning flesh of his own body rose in his nostrils.
The foot pads of two older bulls were even worse. Their pads were virtually burnt off. They tottered along on four painful stumps. Tears rolled down their faces due to the unmerciful pain. Other members of the pack had third degree burns.
Until daylight the pitiful group licked their wounds in the road. The loss of the calves was a communal sadness – a painful symbol of their own helplessness against nature, but also of a sad knowledge of human frailty.