Big Mama, our record-horn Rhino has recovered well from her gunshot wound.

The Kenya Wildlife Service (KWS) vets decided against removing the bullet at this time to give her time to recover from the shock of the ordeal.

Although KWS recommended the horn be cut off to remove the temptation it poses to would-be poachers, we have not done so. We feel that the culprits must be prosecuted and punished as a deterrent.

Justice as always takes its time. Two suspects have been charged but are out on bail.
Meanwhile the Rhinos remain under heavy guard.

The episode caught us “on Safari” in the U.S., but we are now on our way home to make sure all possible is done to have a positive outcome.

More Rhino pictures soon.

Not just for the citizens of the United States, here is a video to soothe your nerves and remind us all:
There’s life besides our daily stress.
What better place than under the sea for a few quiet moments to refresh.

We “pinched” the video from the website of our long time supporter Carole Guillen who lives in France and has just launched her own website to coincide with the publication of her first book entitled: The Call of the Earth

A gang came in shortly after midnight and fired some shots.

The Conservancy’s security force acted swiftly. Within minutes Peter Fundi the Orphanage’s superintendent (who sleeps in the Orphanage “just in case”) was first on the scene. After securing the immediate surroundings and making sure none of our men were hurt, his next move was to check on our pair of Rhinoceros.

The Rhino Big Mama has been shot and slightly wounded

Rhino as you probably know are an endangered species. They are hunted for their horn which brings thousands of $$$$$ when exported to the East where they may become dagger handles or ground into “medicine” said to have aphrodisiac powers.

This is precisely why we have trained our pair, although they are wild and free ranging by day, at night they are rewarded with sugarcane when they return to their “safe-house.” This is a corral opposite the Orphanage and close to our security force. Fundi had last checked on them before retiring late that night and all was well.

The Rhino had vanished. So had whoever fired the shots.

Meanwhile, Bunge, the Wildlife Manager and David McConnell who heads our Wildlife Education Center had joined Fundi and the men in a search across the Ranch. They had to be careful as they knew they could now be the assassins targets. Several hours went by. Finally the brave men managed to locate the two precious animals, even in the darkness of the African bush. They had traveled some distance, but to everyone’s relief, they appeared to be safe and sound. Although confused and refusing to go back to the scene of the attack, at least they were alive.

Our men were joined by armed scouts from the Kenya Wildlife Service. One group stayed in the bush guarding the bewildered animals for the remainder of the night.

Help from a neighboring farm had by now arrived. They brought with them their team of trained bloodhounds and handlers.

The dogs were given the scent of the still fresh footprints of the gang near the Rhino corral. Led by Bunge the team followed the eager dogs. They ran towards the forest and then uphill on the heavily forested mountain slopes. The dogs did not tire until they had found a group of people huddled up at a place called Ontuleli several hours later.

Police were called in and took away the suspects who carried a rifle, a G3.

Meanwhile David McConnell, the head of our Wildlife Education Center went to check on the Rhino at first light. Although they appeared to be okay, in the early morning light he was able to see that one, the female, hat a gunshot wound in her shoulder. She did not appear to be in any pain.

Don Hunt, traveling overseas for medical treatment was swiftly contacted and has been on the phone ever since. Under his direction security has been further tightened.

Eventually the animals calmed and could be persuaded to return to their corral, following the keepers whom they know and trust. Tomorrow the female Rhino will be immobilized and removal of the bullet will be attempted by the vets.

That’s all we know for now folks. The Kenya Police will establish if the bullets matches the suspects rifle. Meanwhile they are doing their own investigations to establish who may be behind all this. Let us hope that this time the culprits will end up behind bars and further tragedies can be averted.

Don and I would like to thank all involved for their dedication and swift and brave response. Without their help these Rhino might have become yet another poaching statistic.

Watch this space for more news when we have some.

Sen. Obama has nothing to fear from African tigers

For the very first time an African American is the nominee for the democratic party: Senator Barack Obama. Kenya is a-buzz with speculation, discussion and bets. After all, Obama’s Dad was a genuine Kenyan, in fact, his Grandma still lives in a village in Western Kenya.

Many of us here follow every bit of news we can get, so we came across an article written by one Nancy Benac, (Associate Press Writer) that is making its appearance in newspapers this week. In it she compares the decorative aspect of the offices of the two nominated candidates. We are informed Obama’s office has “a fresh clean look to it,” “carefully choreographed” with “not many knick-knacks.” The accompanying photograph shows a side table with a good old fashioned “Rungu” on it.

Ms. Benac, the Associated Press Writer identifies it as a “tiger-beating stick from his grandmothers village in Kenya.” Why would they have a “tiger beating stick” in a village in western Kenya? Hardly!

It reminds me of a public notice I saw in a government office in Mogadishu, Somalia in 1965, that announced that the hunting and killing of tigers was strictly forbidden under the laws of Somalia. It proved to be the only law that was never violated there.
Why? There are no tigers in Somalia to hunt, not any more than there are tigers in Kenya.

There are no tigers, never were, on the African continent Ms. Benac. Tigers belong to that other mass of land to the east, remember?

As for the rungu in the good Senator’s office: It’s a traditional African weapon, a throwing club traditionally cut from hardwood bushes or roots that have especially strong knots. It is probably mostly seen used by the warriors of the colorful Maasai tribe of Kenya and Tanzania. No self respecting traditional pastoralist would be caught out in the bush without one, it has so many uses in self defense (bar tiger beating) and hunting, even lion hunting although the Maasai possess more suitable and lethal home made weapons for this pursuit. Young boys training to be warriors have rungu throwing competitions until they become so proficient that they can hit small object such as a small mammal or bird at great distance.

But there is another equally important function for the rungu. It is a ceremonial status symbol giving the bearer the aura of great importance. (Past President Moi of Kenya carried one made of ivory and gold wherever he went). The rungu is often given in honor to a speaker of great importance as a sign of respect. Which is probably why Senator Obama received one in his Grandma’s home village when he visited there some time ago. Kenyans are proud that it has a place of honor in his office. If the rungu does make it to the White House… we hope NOT as a “tiger beating tool”!!

William Holden with Don Hunt”

Another day, another time: Peking in the late 1960’s. Our friend Bill Holden had been waiting anxiously to obtain a visa to see China for years. At this early stage only his fame and his impeccable reputation for honest reporting had persuaded the Chinese authorities to grant a visit. He and his traveling companion were to be accompanied by one of their official guides throughout his visit. Furthermore the route that wanted to take was denied. He was ordered to visit only certain sites as seen fit by the then government there.

Still, Bill thought it would be a start, to break the ice. Surely, he thought, once there he could charm his way into their hearts and he would at least get a glimpse at the real China. But it was not to be.

The guide was cautious to answer questions and the virtual curtain imposed could not be parted to reveal what he knew must lie beyond. On his last day in Peking, one last walk, one last attempt at breaking the barrier, suddenly a man appeared in front of them and with lightening speed stabbed Bill in the chest. The guide jumped to shield Bill’s companion. As Bill felt the sudden blood warm his chest coloring his shirt crimson the would be assassin was caught by guards appearing from nowhere and led away swiftly. All of it happed so fast that Bill’s companion was hardly aware what had happened.

There was no panic. Bill noticed the few Chinese on the street rapidly disappearing as if a silent command had directed them to do so. Then he himself was whisked away to hospital.

The diagnosis confirmed what he already felt: No vital organ had been hit. What he did not know was the extend of his luck as the blade had missed its target by millimeters.

Police and officialdom arrived to question and brief the traveler about this unfortunate incident. The Chinese did not give away what bothered them most, the life almost lost or public embarrassment and its consequences. Bill refused to press charges. He was not given any idea who the culprit was or what may have motivated him. In fact nothing more was ever heard of the man.

As for Bill, wound bandaged he returned to Hong Kong the next morning as scheduled.

As the purposely inflicted injury healed Bill never saw himself as a victim nor did he bear any kind of grudge. The one thing that bothered him for the rest of his life was that he was never able to find out what the possible motivation could have been behind deviltry.

When news leaked out he was questioned by the U.S. State department for details.

He begged them not to make a mountain of what he considered a molehill as he felt any charge would stand in the way of a freer China that he believed was surely to come.

Soon after Bill joined us in Kenya where we were busy planning the future of the newly established Mount Kenya Game Ranch. Making his way through the Far East he rescued two Gibbons that had been confiscated from poachers. He felt they reminded him of the most beautiful poetic pair in the world and promptly named them “Margo and Rudi” after the world famous ballet dancers Margot Fontaine and Rudolf Nuriyev.

Margo and Rudi lived with Bill for a while and then he turned them over to my care and they were amongst the first inhabitants at the Orphanage. But that’s another story.

(Our sincere condolences go out to the family of the recent stabbing victim in Beijing)

That’s another totally amazing footage.

We used to hear, over the years stories often told by the old game wardens and the white hunters, over campfire drinks. Then, the next morning nobody was clear if it was the African magic or the drink, but could what we heard really have happened that way?

But then, if you read old books written by colonial officers giving otherwise not so exciting accounts of their years spent “taming the wilderness,” you can also find such stories. Of course, no one ever had a camera ready at such moments, only one’s photographic mind graced by more or less fantasy.

Nowadays the naturalist gets a grant to lay in waiting with the latest equipment at the ready to record odd moments. But as mankind evolves, so must the animals change with circumstance. When game was plentiful, easy to stalk, would the leopard have bothered with a crocodile? I would love to have seen the rest of the story!

Nature sees to it that, instinctively, mother and young will always find each other but how do we, their human caretakers, tell them apart, you might ask? Is it their horns – beautifully long or sometimes not yet visible? Does their coat set them apart – a whole palette of an enthusiastic painter? Do the stripes give them away? Well, it is a combination of these features that give every one of our protégées their unique identity.

Our Wildlife Officer Fundi has opened the family album for you promising to make you a Bongo expert.

STRIPES
Bongo have between 8 to 14 vertical white stripes on either side. The Bongo in the picture seem to look identical. However, the keen observer may have spotted 12 stripes on the right bongo and only 11 on the left, an important clue…. but how do we distinguish bongo with the same number of stripes? Have you noticed that the first stripe on the right bongo is barely visible whilst the second and third stripe on the left bongo cross half way? There you are!

HORNS
All bongo grow ivory tipped horns that may reach up to 40 inches. In young bongo, these are not yet visible and only develop with age. Let’s look at the pictures. The horns twist at the same angle but do you notice the difference? Well spotted, the horns of the bongo on the left almost seem to touch whilst the horns on the right bongo leave a wide gap. Perhaps, as the horns grow, these too will touch one day but as with all features, no set of horns is alike. Of course once you know your bongo family, you can easily recognize them from their facial features as well – just see how different these two are!

COLOR
Ranging from the lightest chestnut to the deepest russet, bongo are easily identifiable by their brilliant coat darkening with age in males. An artist’s dream, the color nuances are seemingly endless. Do you notice the color of the young bongo on the right being much lighter than that of her mother on the left? When fully grown, the size may no longer be an indicator. The different shades of brown will forever be a “telltale.”

SIZE
The largest of the forest antelopes, the average bongo weighs up to 400 kilos and reaches a height of up to 4 feet. Couldn’t the two adorable bongo toddlers in the picture be twins – their coats almost identical? Their stripes? Hard to count, aren’t they? If it wasn’t for their different build no one could tell that the Bongo on the left is 4 months older than its cousin. There you are, another hint!

Now that you have mastered the art of telling our bongo family apart, we’ll let you in on a little secret: Ajabu’s girl may darken in colour, she will grow magnificent horns, but she will always carry the name she is waiting for you to give her.

Become one of the privileged few to give the offspring of this rare antelope family a name registered in the International Bongo Studbook and be part of her incredible journey through photos and regular updates?

Are you ready to name “your” girl? This link will make you her guardian angel:

adoption.animalorphanagekenya.org

For more news on our very successful Bongo Repatriation Program visit this link: bongo.animalorphanagekenya.org or this blog for regular updates.

He had received word from a (northern) Maasai that a zebra foal had followed his cows into his “manyatta” (a Maasai traditional homestead). The Maasai people are known for their benevolent ability to respect wildlife, sharing what little grazing there is for their live stock with zebras and other wild grazers and tolerating even the king of beasts, the lion on their turf.

The Maasai herdsman narrated the story, how only 2 days ago he had witnessed 2 lionesses making a kill of a zebra mare. Then, “the king” male lion who had been observing from a distance, claimed his right to feast first on the still warm and twitching Zebra, with the lionesses dutifully waiting their turn.

The whole commotion of the chase of course had totally unsettled his herd of cows who had fled in panic in every direction.

Unnoticed in the excitement, a zebra foal no more than two days old, had been swept up in the flight of the cows. Unable to locate her slain mother the confused little foal had followed the cows as they gathered for the trek home. Once united with their herdsman they entered the manyatta, a safe enclosure giving them protection from the predators at night. That’s when the odd one out was first noticed, now feeling quite safe amongst the warm assuring bodies of other larger animals even though they did not have stripes on their pelts. The Maasai herdsman just left the little one there and went to consult with the elders. When it was time to milk the cows, a little was spilled on a hollow stone for the foal who, following the lead of the calves, licked it up.

Left to chance, the foal might even have leaned to nurse from a cow if that had been permitted. But the council of elders decided it was better to send a message to the Government Game Warden than risk being accused of having killed the mother themselves.

Another day had passed before the familiar green land rover appeared and game scouts swiftly grabbed the foal and, holding it in their arms for the long journey back across the plains, finally delivered it to Fundi at our animal orphanage.

Domestic motherless foals are difficult to rear under any circumstances, let alone wild striped ones. Muraya, one of our animal attendants, offered to find donkey milk in the village, although I wondered what donkey would let you milk her! He of course returned empty handed (and bruised!!). Fundi agreed to “donate” his sleep for the first ten days to fed the little one on our special formula in a nursing bottle throughout the days and nights.

So far all the fuss and care has paid off: now, 2 weeks later, our foal has gained a little weight, getting stronger each day and with it boosts our hopes for its survival.

“Helping” of course is the never tiring “Chucky” the mini hog, and Bella the little buffalo, who, by example, has persuaded the foal to try some alfalfa leaves.

Each night these three unmatched creatures cuddle up together, having made their choice from all the other orphans around them.

Nature certainly has its ways to adapt and insure survival when the need is greatest.

Your help and support is indispensable for the continued success of the rehabilitation to the wild programs of the Mount Kenya Wildlife Conservancy and animal orphanage.

“Striped Velvet” can be adopted, even named: click here for details:

adoption.animalorphanagekenya.org

Only separated by a few months in age, these young animals have formed a friendship that will last for life.

As seen here, only one “teenage” female is “in charge.” While the mothers browse in relative peace nearby, the young play and romp as they should. Only previously seen in eland and impala, it is amazing that bongo will adopt the same (sensible) system. Because of the impenetrable forest that wild bongo once populated on Mount Kenya, very little of their behaviour was known until they could be studied in their semi-wild environment of the Mount Kenya Wildlife Conservancy.

Bongo bred at the Conservancy are earmarked for future release on Mount Kenya their ancestral home. Watch this space for updates.

If you would like to become part of this exiting and unique conservation project with your donation, click here:

Help support the Wildlife Conservancy

For more details of the Bongo rehabilitation back to the wild program click here:

Bongo Updates

No sooner had young Chucky settled in, another came along.

This one is a 3 months old bush pig. The medium size one amongst the three wild pigs found in Kenya. The largest, of course you knew, is the elusive giant forest hog.

This little piggy was actually found by our equestrian amazon friend Rose Caldwell.

On one of her daily outings on the slopes of Mount Kenya her horse shied away from some crows busy picking at ’something’ in a ditch. Rose moved closer only to discover a tiny newborn and terrified piglet about to be assassinated by the crows sharp beaks.

She managed to scoop it up just in time and walked it back to the safety of their farm house. It would be unusual for crows to go after a bushpig even a small one but, trapped as it was in a ditch they saw their chance. No one knows what happened to “mom.” No doubt she was no longer around, because not only would she have managed the crows she would most certainly have had a go at Rose’s mare’s legs in defence of her young.

Rose reared the little pig on an infant bottle filled with milk, egg and sugar and the little bundle thrived, grew and soon made digging up the garden her favourite sport. So much that inevitably trouble brewed in the Caldwell household and to avoid total destruction not only to the beautiful garden but also their many years of happy marriage, the Caldwells decided it was time Piggy went somewhere she would meet creatures more her match and be prepared for a future in her ancestral wilderness home. That is how she came to us.

She is yet too young for return to the wild and must stay a few months longer before she begins her eventual journey back to the wild. Meanwhile she has exchanged digging for chasing the other orphans who jovially tolerate her antics. Our little Buffalo “Bella” is however specially taken with her and they are beginning to bond. One thing is for sure: Bella will always be bigger than the Ms. Piggy and that fact of life, she will probably continue to respect!

Ms. Piggy is looking for your sponsorship in fostering or adoption…
adoption.animalorphanagekenya.org