A Close Call...
- Jordi Woerts
- Apr 16
- 6 min read
27 October 2023
I was really keen to complete a trailing assessment to get a step closer to my Trails Guide qualification. For those unfamiliar, a Trails Guide is certified to lead guests safely on foot through the bush. The trailing assessment is one of the final hurdles. It involves following animal tracks, known as spoor, using the correct techniques, ideally leading you to the animal itself. This was the last box I needed to tick before qualifying, and I was very excited.
We set out on foot for the assessment: my assessor Lee Gutteridge, a highly respected individual in the industry and a great guy, another student named Sam, and myself. A fellow safari guide had reported seeing a white rhino cow and calf at a nearby muddy dam, so we decided to investigate. If the trail was viable, it could be the perfect opportunity to complete the assessment. When we arrived, we were treated to a fun little scene. Not white rhinos, but a few buffalo bulls wallowing in the mud. Meanwhile, catfish were wriggling desperately in the last remaining water patches, trying to escape the stomping buffalo. Honestly, it was quite a funny sight.
Once the buffalo moved off, it was time for Sam and me to shine. We circled the dam, looking for any tracks from the reported rhinos. Lee spotted some possible trails, but they were muddy and indistinct. Combined with relatively tall grass, we had little in the way of clear tracks. Lee decided to inspect the area first before handing it over to us. He gave us a briefing on what he expected and said he would go ahead until he was sure of the species. Then it would be up to us to continue the trail.
Lee has just published his new book 'Tracking Animals', and, fittingly, he described what happened next in it:
"We walked to the edge of the water, keeping a sharp eye open for the buffalo bulls just in case they came back. The trail of the rhino was subtle, a bit of fallen mud leading away from the dam and up the slope into the thorny bush, leading to a series of well-used game trails and grassy patches. The yellow base colour of the dry grass allowed for the dark grey mud from the wallow to stand out well, giving good aerial clues to seek out. There was little or nothing in the way of tracks, however, as the post-wallow 'mud-shoes' had picked up dry sand and gritty pebbles and all that I could see on the ground was occasional evidence of transfer. The aerial mud spoor soon dried up too. I had not yet seen a track of an adult rhino, and I was wondering if it was the correct animal. I chose to stay on and examine the trail for a while before handing it over to one of the candidates, preferring to have something substantial for them to begin with. The trail eventually went past a large vegetated bellicosus termite mound, which I considered a good sign, as white rhinos habitually graze on these nutrient hot-spots. I intensified my search for a track around the edge of the mowed-down lawn of couch grass. We were still following very little except for sand-transfer, some possible scuffs and what appeared to be a partial rhino calf spoor. I also used a little bit of speculative tracking, anticipating the probable line of the trail. I continued into an area of short, dense, white raisin bushes."
And then we got a little surprise... Out of nowhere, a few oxpeckers flew up. Not a great sign. These birds are often found around large mammals, feeding on ticks and parasites. The second I saw them, I knew something was coming. Then I heard it: intense huffing and puffing. It hit me immediately. Black rhinoceros. Not good. And not just any black rhino, but a mother with a juvenile. She burst from the thickets, no more than 10 meters from where we were standing, and came charging straight at us. Her calf was close behind. Lee was up front and carried a rifle, as required for assessments, but there was no time to chamber a round. He would not have done it anyway. He explained later that even if he could have fired, he would not have pulled the trigger unless absolutely necessary. I am honestly so grateful he had that mindset. The last thing I wanted was for a rhino to be killed on my assessment.
The black rhino was suddenly in front of Lee, with me just behind him and Sam behind me. She tried to horn him, and Lee had to jump out of the way, which he thankfully managed to do. Now it was my turn. Face to face with a charging black rhino. I froze completely. Black rhinos have very poor eyesight, and I figured if I did not move a muscle, maybe she would not detect me. It worked. She missed me entirely and continued after Lee, who was now running and trying to find cover.
Again, from Lee’s book:
"I heard her gusting breath behind me, and her feet drummed loudly against the earth. I realised that the horn would not be long in coming, so I turned sharply again, this time to the right. I saw her, right next to me, in my peripheral vision, a huge grey mass, and knew it had been another near miss of that sharp stabbing-tool of hers. Another split-second of running and she was right onto me again. I attempted to turn, and with a small slip of my shoe on the grass the gap between us closed even more. I knew I was about to be impaled, so I dove, out of the line of her run, and of her deadly sweeping horn, off to my left, trying to get into or at least next to a raisin bush as some sort of meagre protection. I totally missed the raisin bush I aimed for, my momentum carrying me right past it. I landed in a small open patch in some long grass. She halted immediately, and stood right over my body. She did not step on me. I was laid on my still-unloaded rifle, hugging it tight, thinking that when she scooped me and threw me through the air with her horn, I would at least have the weapon with me, in order to fire a warning shot or defend myself against being impaled."
As she followed Lee into the bush, I moved off to the side, parallel to their path, and took cover behind a few raisin bushes. From there, I could still keep visual on the rhinos. But Lee had fallen into long grass, and I could not see him anymore. I genuinely thought he was dead. I shouted at the top of my lungs, waving my bag to try and scare the rhino away. There was not much else I could have done to stop a 1200 kilogram charging animal. I like to believe that my shouting made a difference. Perhaps the noise made her realize there were more of us around, and with her calf in mind, she decided to move off. *Text continues after the image.
But what about Lee?
No movement. No sound. I feared the worst. Then I saw him, and he was alive. Bloodied and bruised, but very much alive. I tapped him on the shoulder, asking if he was okay. He was. And I cannot tell you how relieved Sam and I were.
The black rhino, it turned out, had been lying in deep, dark shade, likely fast asleep. Our near-silent approach meant she did not detect us until the very last second. She had no choice but to defend her calf. We went out expecting a white rhino cow. What we got was a black rhino experience that none of us will ever forget. Lesson learned. Assume nothing, expect anything. The bush has no limits when it comes to surprises.
This might just be the most terrifying and best experience I have ever had as a guide. And I am just incredibly grateful that everyone, including the rhinos, walked away unharmed. Would you like to learn more about tracking animals? You can purchase Lee his book via the link below: https://jacana.co.za/product/tracking-animals-a-guide-to-trailing-wildlife-forthcoming-title-due-end-march/ If you want to learn more about what Lee does, check out the link below: https://www.natureguidetraining.com/team/lee-gutteridge/
Comments