The Kruger Park Wildfires Spread To The Big Elephants Side
A confused Mayafudi stopped in his tracks. He stared through slits into the distance. His sensitive elephant radar had picked up some dim movement. He pricked up his ears. Now the deep parallel folds resembled the outline of Africa. His restless tusk explored the strange scents which disturbed the cool afternoon air.
The grey giant became more and more restless as his senses confirmed his first instructive thoughts. Human figures appeared mysteriously in the distance. What were they doing there near the Mkulumbeni waterhole, north of Shingwedzi in the Kruger Park?
Hidden behind dense shrub, he started moving cautiously – big foot by big foot – nearer to the danger, his heart thumping and his stomach rumbling. He was suspicious and uncertain. He therefore concentrated on placing each giant foot quietly behind another. He did not want a single sound to betray his presence. The Elephants Yearning and Why We Say This Is The Elephant Country
Later he could distinguish four humans – three males and a female. Possibly Mozambicans taking a short cut to South Africa’s big cities. They appeared to be battered and in a pitiful condition. Each had a little bundle and a plastic water can. One, kneeling near a small heap of twigs, was trying to get a fire going, possibly to keep dangerous predators at bay.
What went wrong, Mayafudi could not know
Maybe an errand little gust. Suddenly a little spark became a belching fire. The dry grass spattered and sparked as it grew into menacing flames. Everyone of the humans joined in to stamp out the enemy. This was then the beginning of the Kruger Park wildfire.
The men rushed forward to trample with their army boots. The woman grabbed a plastic canister of water and poured the valuable drinking water on to douse the flames. It became a heated battle to prevent the smoke and fire from betraying their presence.
Arsonists, Satans! The conclusion hit Mayafudi like an electric shock.
He suddenly remembered with scorching conviction the awful night of flaming seas when he was still a young elephant. The despair and trauma whilst lapping flames menaced from everywhere, again became a stark reality. An aggressiveness, such as he had not experienced for ages, suddenly overwhelmed him.
In his ears was the rustling of his own blood like the rush of a gale. His mood became pitch dark. A thunderous trumpeting reverberated through the forest. Then the earth trembled as he stormed.
The woman fled catlike into a mopane tree. The men ran blindly. This was unwise. Mayafudi rushed with giant strides and in a single sweep of his strong tusk felled all three of them. Then he trampled, again and again and again. Next he attacked the bundles and water canisters. Eventually nothing was left. Who Would Dare Challenge An Elephant? Who Would remain Defiant When An Elephant Charged? ... Culling was something especially cruel. It destroyed families and friendships
Even the innocent tree had to suffer
A few tremendous shakes and an enormous battering, uprooted the mopane. With a thunderous crash it fell onto its side. The frail woman flew through the air, tumbled to the ground and hastily crawled under a thick sicklebush. She was the only survivor. With her screams ringing in his ears, Mayafudi fled towards the main road, the H1-7. He did not even notice that the fire had already died down. Only a few embers still glowed. The damage was insignificant.
In his confusion and ire Mayafudi forgot caution when the reached the tarred road. His mother, the wise Ukuthula (“Peace from within” – from the Tsonga language), taught him road sense. But in his haste he almost collided with a green Land Rover safari vehicle, with a load of hikers on their way back to Shingwedzi. He came to a stop – the full six tons of him – broadside, almost directly in front of the vehicle.
The Shangaan, the warden, who was driving, had a terrible fright. He braked and fought the steering wheel, his full weight on the hooter. Mayafudi also had such a fright that he replied with a second, more severe eruption of anger.
When the truck came to a halt a few steps from the elephant, he attacked it with his mighty trunk and dangerous tusks. One mighty heave of his huge head overturned the Land Rover. The hooter got stuck and blared full volume. This irritated Mayafudi even more.
When he had finished with the truck, he stormed the trailer which was on its back, wheels spinning in the air. Two mighty chops with the huge tusks and the green metal had two long, shiny gashes. Only now the elephant came to his senses.
The scene was utter chaos
Strewn around the wreck were binoculars, cameras, satchels, hats and water bottles. Next to the trailer were two suitcases, one of which had burst open. Form the fuel tank of the Land Rover a puddle of diesel had leaked. The occupants were not seriously injured, but in a severe state of shock. A young woman was screaming hysterically, while another was sobbing bitterly. The driver kept up a string of Tsonga profanities.
“I must get away from this place! Immediately!” This was the message that kept hammering in Mayafudi’s brain. It kept repeating like a radio distress signal. Without any further hesitation he stormed ahead through the veld. Blindly. Oblivious to all around him. The earth trembled under his huge feet. Branches snapped and crunched under his terrific forward rush.
Where must he go? He did not know. All he knew was that he had done wrong. He would be branded. Later on he calmed down. Later that night he sought shelter deep into the lush vegetation. His only option lay open to him. He had to flee – as far and fast as possible.
He would, however, not flee foolishly without a plan. The game rangers would mercilessly hunt him down with their guns. He would combine his flight with a homing instinct. Home – the only place where he would be able to spend his autumn days in peace.
He would return to the Kruger Gate and the Sabie River.