Read an Excerpt

Hyena Nights & Kalahari Days

Jacana Media (Pty) Ltd

Getting to know Brown Hyenas and the Kalahari

I WOKE AT SUNRISE. I looked out of my caravan window onto a vista of coppery red sand, peppered with grass tussocks and dotted with short, stumpy trees. It was my first view of the Kalahari and, although I had seen many photographs of the landscape, no photo can convey the beauty and atmosphere of this region at sunrise. I immediately knew that I would be at home here.

It was April 1972 and I was on my way to the Kalahari Gemsbok National Park to start a two-year study of the little-known brown hyena. I had left Johannesburg the previous day in my brand-new Land Rover pulling a three -metre caravan, which was to be my home for the next two years. Actually it was to be our home, as in a couple of months I was due to marry Margie Davies, my university sweetheart, who was recovering from knee operations in her home in Salisbury, Rhodesia (now known as Harare in Zimbabwe).

I had spent the night on the side of the road that runs along the Kuruman river-bed from Kuruman to Twee Rivieren, the southern entrance to and headquarters of the Kalahari Gemsbok National Park. After a quick cup of coffee I was soon on the road again, feeling excited but also apprehensive about the great adventure that lay ahead of me. Even in my wildest dreams that morning it did not cross my mind that I would spend the next 12 years in the Kalahari, nor did I have any idea that I would witness such a multitude of incredible and exciting natural history events.

Ever since I first visited the Kruger National Park as an eight-year-old I had wanted to work in the bush with animals. When I left school with a less than adequate academic record, I was advised not to try for a science degree. Instead I registered at the University of Cape Town for a BA in psychology. After three years, during which time I became even more convinced that I wanted to study animals and not people, I emerged with a very mediocre degree. The prospect of becoming a personnel officer or clinical psychologist was unacceptable.

My parents, Ken and Sybil, who were always so supportive, gave me a second chance and I went back to register for a BSc in zoology. Since then I have never looked back. In 1971 I registered at Pretoria University for an honours degree in wildlife management. During this year I heard from my professor, Koos Bothma, that he wanted a student to conduct a basic ecological study of the brown hyena in the Kalahari. Although until then hyenas had not been animals that I had thought particularly interesting, the prospect of going to live and work in the Kalahari for two years was most appealing.

Accordingly I set about trying to raise funds for the project. After several frustrations and disappointments I managed, through the help of Professor Fritz Eloff, head of the Department of Zoology at Pretoria, Professor Bothma and a friend, Mark Berry, to raise enough money to start the project. I also managed to gain permission from the National Parks Board of South Africa and the Department of Wildlife and National Parks, Botswana, to live and work in the Kalahari Gemsbok and Gemsbok National Parks in the southern Kalahari.

For the moment, however, I had other things to concentrate on. Two kilometres north of Andriesvale, where the Kuruman river-bed runs into the Nossob and the road turns north, I came to a large stretch of water in the dirt road, easily 200 metres long, the result of an unusually heavy downpour a few days earlier. I stopped. While I was wondering how to get through this obstacle, a woman driving an old Peugeot 404 passed me, drove straight into the middle of the water and out on the other side. If she can get through this in her old saloon car, I thought, then I should have no trouble in my new Land Rover, even though I am pulling a caravan.

I put my vehicle into four-wheel drive, just in case, and in I went. Gradually I felt the vehicle labouring more and more, until, not quite halfway through the pool, I ground to a halt. In retrospect I realised that the mistake I had made was to go to the side of the road and not to stay in the centre as the woman in the Peugeot had done. Because of the camber in the road, the sides were far deeper. I unhitched the caravan and managed to drive the Land Rover out of the mud. Then with the help of a few local children (it's amazing that in so many parts of Africa within minutes of a car stopping people emerge from the bush to see what is going on!) we managed to pull the caravan on to the higher ground.

I rehitched the caravan and off I went. However, something was still wrong as the Land Rover was struggling to pull the caravan. I stopped to inspect and found that I had failed to lift up the little front wheel of the caravan that stabilises it when it is not attached to a vehicle. Now I was in trouble, as the pipe attaching the wheel to the Jurgens had become bent, from being forced through the mud, and I couldn't pull it up. With the help of my new friends we managed to lift the front of the caravan out of the mud and to extract the wheel with its bent pipe from below. Fortunately the garage at Andriesvale was open and the mechanic soon managed to straighten the metal for me. Within half an hour I was on my way to Twee Rivieren again, having learnt a few valuable lessons on how to negotiate the infamous roads of the Northern Cape.

As I approached Twee Rivieren the road deteriorated. The rain pools in the road became longer and deeper. By staying in the middle of the road when negotiating the pools and by following the tracks of other vehicles when they deviated from the road for a particularly large pool, I managed to reach Twee Rivieren with no further mishap, or so I thought.

When I opened the caravan it looked like a brown hyena had been at work inside. Because of the bumpy ride over the deviations, the mirror on the little clothes cupboard had fallen off and put a hole through the cupboard door. The sun-roof had also fallen off and the entire surface area of the caravan was covered in dust. To crown it all, a five-litre can of cooking oil had sprung a leak, so that the floor was also covered in a thin layer of cooking oil. I spent the best part of my first two days in the Kalahari cleaning and repairing my caravan.

The Kalahari Gemsbok National Park in the Northern Cape Province of South Africa and its neighbour, the Gemsbok National Park in Botswana, form one of the largest national park systems in the world, covering 36 000 square kilometres. Recently the two parks have been merged into the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park through an international agreement. An arid region receiving on average 220 millimetres of rain per year, it also experiences great temperature fluctuations. In summer the mercury usually climbs to over 35°C and on cold winter nights it can plummet to — 10°C.

The centres of activity are the two fossil river-beds, the Auob and the Nossob, which enter from South West Africa and run roughly north-west to south-east through the Kalahari Gemsbok National Park. The Nossob forms the boundary between South Africa and Botswana.

It had been decided that I was going to make Nossob Camp my base, so after spending a few days orientating myself at Twee Rivieren, I moved up the Nossob river-bed to the camp 160 kilometres away. At that stage Nossob had only eight huts for tourists and a small camping ground, and was run by the ranger Elias le Riche, Kalahari-born, and his wife Doempie.

Obviously I was anxious to see my first brown hyena. Every morning I was out at sunrise and back after dark, driving slowly along the Nossob River valley and over the dunes, hoping to catch a glimpse of my elusive study animal. From talking to Elias and others who were familiar with the area, it soon became obvious that these animals were nocturnal and difficult to contact. I knew that this would be the case, but no one had told me it was going to be so difficult just to see the animal!

An outstanding feature of the Kalahari is the layer of red windblown sand that covers over 95 per cent of the area. Not only does this contribute to the beauty of the area, it also means that it is possible to follow tracks of animals in the sand, something that the local San people excel at. This sand takes on a variety of colours, ranging from vivid orange-reds to burnt amber, from brown ochre to smoky-pink. The red hue is caused by a covering of natural ferric iron oxide on the minute sand grains. Because of the low rainfall, moisture has not been able to oxidise the ferric oxide to white ferrous oxide.

Early one morning a Bushman tracker, Ooi, and I set out following the spoor of a brown hyena that had visited the rubbish tip at the camp the previous night. Was this to be the day that I caught a glimpse of my first brown hyena? The spoor went into the Nossob river-bed and then disappeared. At this early stage I discovered one of the great limitations to the technique of tracking in this area. The hard substrate makes it impossible to follow an animal once it moves into a river-bed. Unless the animal happens to cross straight over, and its tracks can be picked up again on the other side, it is invariably lost. This was most unfortunate, as there was always plenty of food for hyenas along the river-beds, and they spend much time foraging there. From tracking spoor we would not be able to learn what they were doing in this important habitat.

Ooi spent the next two hours searching the sides of the river-bed for the tracks to emerge, but to no avail. Frustrated and disappointed, we returned to Nossob Camp. The next morning Ooi found another set of spoor at the refuse tip. Again this led us straight into the river-bed and my heart sank. However, when he emerged on the opposite bank and went up the dune into Botswana, my spirits rose. This time the hyena had crossed straight over. We followed the tracks across the dunes, Ooi walking while I followed some way behind in the Land Rover. Progress was slow as it had moved erratically. At one point we spent over an hour progressing only 100 metres, following a series of repeated circles. Then the hyena started moving forward again. No clues were left as to what the animal had been doing.

About one kilometre further on Ooi stopped to bend down and pick something up. I drove up to find him holding the shell of a melon-like fruit. On looking around I discovered we were in a large patch of tsama melons, the wonder plants of the Kalahari, which consist of over 90 per cent water. Some had been freshly opened and the flesh neatly scraped out, while others were dried-out shells that had obviously been eaten some time ago. There were still others that were intact and had not been eaten at all. The brown hyena had obviously enjoyed munching on several of them. This was my first brown hyena feeding record and I was somewhat surprised that its meal should be a fruit. Little did I realise what an important role these melons play in the diet of both animals and humans in the Kalahari.

Feeling excited by our first discovery, we continued on our way. It was nearing midday and with the sun high in the sky it became more difficult to see the tracks because of the lack of shadow, which enhances the outline and therefore the clarity of the spoor. I was amazed by Ooi's ability. Several times I asked him to show me the spoor, but all I could see was a slight indentation in the sand, which looked no different from many other imprints. Over the years I never ceased to be amazed at the skill of the local people in following an animal's trail. Although as time went on I myself improved in tracking competence, I was never able to follow the spoor of a single hyena when the sun was high with the same expertise as Ooi and his people.

Matching this uncanny aptitude, the Kalahari trackers have incredible stamina. They are able to trot over the dunes for hours on end in high temperatures. Since leaving the Kalahari I have become an avid jogger myself and know what can be achieved by someone who is fit and in training. Bushmen, however, are natural athletes and are able to keep moving for 20 kilometres without suffering any effects, even if they have not run for several months. This is in soft sand, over dunes and without any fancy running shoes or energy-boosting supplements.

Suddenly Ooi stopped and pointed ahead of him. About 10 metres away, a rather ungainly large, dark bundle of hair, supported by four thin legs, was running away from him. He had flushed the brown hyena from a small bush under which it had been sleeping. After a short distance the hyena stopped and looked back. I caught a glimpse of its large pointed ears and a white ruff around the neck. Then it turned round and with long black coat flowing in the wind, like a schoolmaster in academic gown hurrying to class, it disappeared over a small dune. It was a thrilling moment, for at last I had made contact, however limited, with my study animal.

I spent a month in the Kalahari, familiarising myself with the area and the conditions under which Margie and I were going to work and live before journeying up to Salisbury for our wedding. We must be the only married couple who had two hyenas on top of their wedding cake in place of the more usual bride and groom.

When we returned to the Kalahari I began to plan my research strategy seriously. The brown hyena is a member of a rather exclusive family of carnivores, the Hyaenidae, which has only four living members. There are the three true hyenas — the striped hyena (Hyaena hyaena), the brown hyena (Parahyaena brunnea) and the spotted hyena (Crocuta crocuta) — and a rather aberrant member, the aardwolf (Proteles cristatus).

As the brown hyena was such a little-known species, the main objective of the study was to collect as much information on the animal's ecology and behaviour as possible. The first question to ask seemed to be, what do they eat and how do they find their food? At the same time we wanted to know how they move and what the size of an individual's home range is and what kind of social system they have. Other important questions were: how do they raise their young, how do they communicate and how do they interact with other carnivores?

What we did know was that the true hyenas are characterised by having large and robust jaws and teeth, useful for crushing bones. On the other hand the aardwolf has a few weak peg-like cheek teeth, although its canines are quite well developed. The aardwolf is one of the most specialised of carnivores, feeding almost exclusively on harvester termites, for which teeth are not a priority. Although it is so different from the true hyenas, it is included in the family on account of close anatomical, chromosomal and blood protein relationships. Furthermore, in common with the true hyenas, it possesses an anal pouch. This unique organ, used for scent-marking (about which I will have more to say later), is situated between the rectum and the base of the tail and can be turned inside out. From it the animals deposit a strong-smelling paste-like substance on to grass stalks by carefully stepping forward over a stalk and placing the extruded anal pouch on to it. No other animals scent-mark in this way.

Surprisingly hyenas are more closely related to cats than to dogs. Their nearest relatives, in fact, are the cat-like civets and genets of the family Viverridae. Hyenas are believed to have evolved in Africa and Eurasia from a civet-like ancestor some 26 million years ago. The early hyenas did not, as it would be logical to assume, develop large teeth and massive bone-crushing jaws. They actually looked more like modern-day dogs. The true dogs of the family Canidae were evolving in North America, so this dog-like niche was available to the hyenas in Eurasia and Africa. When the canids were able to cross the Bering land -bridge into Eurasia, the dog-like hyenas began to disappear, although palaeontologists do not think that these two occurrences were necessarily related. The only dog-like hyena that managed to survive was the ancestral aardwolf.

The large bone-crushing teeth in hyenas evolved during the late Miocene era, 10 million years ago. It was then that the hyenas reached their peak in terms of numbers of species, there being 10 living together, including one as large as a cow. It is thought that during this time an abundant supply of carrion was available, as the huge but highly specialised sabre-toothed cats could not deal with the tougher portions of their large prey like woolly rhinoceroses. As the sabre-toothed cats declined during the early Pleistocene about two million years ago, so did the hyenas.

---

Excerpted from Hyena Nights & Kalahari Days by Gus Mills, Margie Mills. Copyright © 2010 Gus and Margie Mills. Excerpted by permission of Jacana Media (Pty) Ltd.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

---