A herd of buffalo, doing a good 30km/h with their tails swinging violently in the air, burst through a thicket.
They kicked up a red cloud of dust as the sun rose above the Madikwe mountains.
Into this image of natural bliss clattered a chopper which hovered close to the herd, forcing them to go in a particular direction. In an amazing display of flying skills, the chopper isolated a big bull from the rest of the herd.
Bewildered by the chopper and the isolation from the herd, the bull would stop, look left, look right and left again. And as it attempted to rejoin the herd, it staggered.
Another desperate attempt to get away from unknown danger. The hind quarters were the first to give up. The bull lurched drunkenly and down he went.
As the massive body sagged to the ground, the ground crew, armed to the teeth, moved in.
A typical poaching scene?
Far from it. This was a highly noble mission to do the opposite – save the buffalo and other threatened species such as the rhino.
As the buffalo went down momentarily from the tranquilliser, courtesy of “Louis the Vet”, it was clear to the ground crew this was a classic case of “no pain no gain”.
The animal had been sedated for a few minutes so that it could be saved and, on top of that, contribute to environmental research. Our mission was part of an innovative and expensive project between the South African Breweries and the North West Parks Board and was put together by conservation events company Wildcon.
Capturing game for a good cause is a hugely delicate mission. Everything has to be executed with military and medical precision. This is done to minimise harm to the animal and to avoid, at all costs, losing an animal while trying to do good.
As the buffalo hit the ground, the first task facing the troops was to ensure that it settled in such a way that it did not hurt itself.
As two members of the team began to place the collar around the neck of the animal, others began their tasks.
One measured the animal’s horns, the other monitored its breath while others measured the body length. A “fortunate” crew member had the “honourable” task of inserting a thermometer into the animal’s rear to monitor its temperature. All of this was designed to make sure the animal never got distressed.
Once the buffalo had been collared, screws tightened and important data recorded by the NW Parks Board rangers, the antidote was administered to reverse the tranquilliser’s effect. It was then time to christen the animal and give it a name. We named him Xolani, in honour of journalist and radio talk show host Xolani Gwala.
We retreated to our vehicles and watched as Xolani came to.
He shook his head, moved the front and hind quarters into position. Slowly, he made his way up. He steadied himself, looked left, right and left to reorientate himself.
As soon as his sixth sense informed his animalistic GPS about the location of the rest of the herd, he was on his way.
There were high fives all around. The mission had been accomplished.
As Xolani disappeared into the bush, I hoped he wouldn’t meet a pride of hungry lions.
Time for step two of the mission – to insert an electronic chip in a rhino.
The chopper took off on a spotting mission and the ground crew, among them students, exchanged experiences.
Two minutes later the radio crackled that a family of rhino had been spotted. And our talented pilot, born and bred in Thabazimbi, gently drove them in our direction. He would lower the chopper at a particular angle so that Louis could get a clear sight of his target. Seconds later the tranquilliser needle was in the rhino’s bum.
The rhinos, terrified by this alien machine – the chopper – burst into a sprint. Our targeted rhino suddenly found his legs too heavy. He tried to move but the tranquilliser took effect and then the three-ton animal collapsed into a heap of muscle and fat. And again the ground crew swung into action.
Louis went for the ears and proceeded to cut them in a particular style. The cuts were not just medical incisions. They were a form of identification. Each chipped rhino has its own unique incision. A special dose of medication was applied to the ear. A hole was drilled in both horns and a specimen was taken for the second method of identification – the DNA. These were taken to the rhino DNA bank.
A chip was then inserted.
As all of this was carried out, other members of the crew were recording important data.
Length of horn: check
Breathing rate: check
Temperature: check
Shoulder to paw length: check
With all of that done it was now time to tend to the near septic wound on the rhino bull’s forehead. Right between the eyes.
The wound was a direct result of what bulls do in the wild – gore each other in a fight over territory and matters of the heart.
We watched as the animal slowly found his feet and waddled away, as if nothing had happened.
We repeated the exercise one more time, inserting an electronic chip into another rhino.
The days had started at 5am. At 10am we were heading back to camp, satisfied that we had made a contribution to conservation. And to saving the rhino. - Saturday Star