An hour later, I was leaning against the leather backrest of the four-wheel drive, with the windows rolled down and the wind whipping my hair about my face. I watched as the landscape changed from tall buildings and mansions to broken down shanties, from broad highways, to narrow, winding streets, from well trimmed lawns to factories with gray smoke billowing from the chimneys.
When we passed the Parliament building, I knew we had barely five miles to go before we reached the Park. A ripple of thrill ran down my spine as I thought back to the information I had read in the catalogue; that I was about to visit the first wildlife reserve in Kenya, opened in 1946. It seemed like barely no time before we drove through the gates, and my mouth fell open as I took in the sudden transportation back in time to Wild Africa, unspoilt by fences and the ringing sounds of bullets.
When we got to the ranger’s office, two tall, dark men were waiting for us. While one took all of our luggage to our cabins, the other one, who was to be our guide, smiled at us, and his teeth shone brightly against his glowing ebony skin. In flawless English he told us that once we had finished our lunch we could set out.
After a delicious meal, we all piled into the guide’s rusty white four-wheel drive and with a jolt, set off down the weather beaten track. The sun was now high in the sky and blazing like a currant bun on fire. It was hard to believe it was winter. Still, we were at the Equator so it was to be expected. I was sitting in the front with the guide, and so I got the benefit of his flashing smile and deep voice. He told us that as it was migration season, there ought to be plenty of animals around.
An hour later we still hadn’t spotted a thing; my back was aching from the continuous jolting and I was beginning to wonder if we were ever going to see any animals. Then suddenly, from behind a thorny bush loped a leopard, and what a gorgeous creature it was too! Its pale tan skin looked glossy and was covered with broken black circles. It stared at us with an arrogant expression in its golden brown eyes, before moving on; obviously deciding we weren’t worth the trouble of a fight. I watched in awe as its slender four-foot body padded into the cover of the bush. Wole, the guide said leopards were loners and they only ever “stuck” with their mates. We were lucky to have seen one at all.
The excitement of seeing a leopard had barely worn off when we heard a rustle behind the tall grass and a rhino, one of only five surviving kinds today, charged straight through, heading straight for the water holes sparkling in the distance. To those of us who have never seen a rhino up close before, their size is quite astounding. This specimen was about 7 feet tall and 15 feet long. The two horns on its snout-one short, one long-seemed more than capable of brutal murder. As we watched the large black behind of the rhino gallop away towards the water, Wole told us a story that made us pale with fear. Once a rhino, being rather poor sighted, charged into a four-wheel drive, and deciding that this silly metal animal was asking for a fight, proceeded to rock the four-wheel drive at almost forty-five degree angles for the next half-hour almost killing everyone inside.
By this time the sun was lower on the horizon turning the whole sky into a beautiful pinkish orange colour and it was against the sky that I saw the silhouettes of a herd of buffalo and the long gangly necks of giraffes walking sedately towards the water hole. As Wole watched them get closer, he whispered in a conspiratorial voice that buffaloes and rhinos had been extinct in the park since the turn of the century until they were successfully re-introduced in the ‘60s. The one thing that struck me about them, besides their enormous size, was the ridiculous way in which their tiny ears were constantly twitching and moving from side to side. It made them look so comical that I could barely keep from laughing out loud.
I was watching a particularly tall giraffe drinking water by splaying his legs and lowering his neck when I heard the noise I had been longing to hear since we set out- the roar of a lion. And suddenly they materialized almost out of nowhere and marched towards the water. The largest lion was so close; I could reach out and touch him, had I been stupid enough to attempt such a thing. He was about 5 and half feet tall and his tawny muscular body arched in an action that resembled a house cat. His head, neck and shoulders were covered with a full mane of long brown hair. His long claws were hooked and seemed dangerously close to the four-wheel drive. As he opened his mouth to yawn, a pitch-black cavern loomed in its wake, guarded jealously by razor sharp teeth. As he lowered his heavy body onto the moist ground near the water, several other lionesses materialized behind him, all equally muscular but lacking the mane. They were surrounded by little cubs so cute that I couldn’t believe that they would one day grow up to become the King of Beasts. Almost as if he sensed my gaze, the leader of the pride looked me straight in the eyes and the pride at the order in his jungle kingdom was apparent in those luminescent hazel eyes. The look in his eyes said clearly but soundlessly,” I am the King”.
Two hours later, I was back at my cabin and ready for bed after a long day and a delicious barbecued dinner in the great outdoors. I wondered in excitement what the next day would bring; maybe I would see hippos or that chain-smoking chimpanzee Wole told me about. I walked out onto the porch, my feet thudding on the wooden floor and a chill wind ruffling my hair. I stared out into the darkness of the night lit only by the twinkling stars and in the distance, I heard the satisfied roar of a lion.
