There is a world somewhere between reality and fiction. Although ignored by many, it is very real and so are those living in it. This forum is about the natural world. Here, wild animals will be heard and respected. The forum offers a glimpse into an unknown world as well as a room with a view on the present and the future. Anyone able to speak on behalf of those living in the emerald forest and the deep blue sea is invited to join.
The Fall Of The Male Lion Vulolo. The Mapogo rampage continues december 2006 I can only imagine what it must have been like. From the tracks we found the next day we have an idea, but his last few minutes must have been like something out of a horror film. Vulolo, father of the Tsalala cubs, dominant male of the North, the voice of the roars we had fallen asleep to in camp for the whole of the previous year, had either killed or stolen an impala, and was feeding on his prize in the darkness. He most likely would not have recognized the first face to arrive at his kill, either attracted by the smell of the meat, or by his territorial roaring. Perhaps he even fancied his chances having seen a single male challenger, perhaps one just below prime size, indignantly running towards his meal. Perhaps he did not run at first, and stood to face his challenger. His heart would have sunk at the sight of a second large male lion running towards him from the blackness, his courage replaced by a dark fear. Most likely, as he turned to run, he would have seen another, then another, then another, and then even another snarling male lion, running at him from all sides, teeth bared, manes flowing in the wind, and as he felt the heat of their breath and felt the pain from their claws, his horrible and violent fate would have dawned on him. These were the voices he had heard the wind bringing on many a night from the far West. The Mapogo had finally found him… but they not only intended to silence him…. they were going to eat him.
I hope for his sake his life ended quickly. The noise would have been literally sickening… the kind of thing guests think they would like to witness but would end up either not being able to watch or retching noisily over the side of the vehicle. There would have been an age of growling, of steam coming from their mouths and off his open carcass, as they fought amoungst each other over the prize parts of his body. All that they left was his mane and his tail.
It is so difficult as someone who has spent time watching the life of an animal unfold: one can’t help feeling some connection to a creature which has given you so much viewing pleasure, and with whom you have spent many intimate moments. We fear the worst for the young Tsalala cubs who are now without the protection of their father. All credits go james kydd