Hunting Painted Dogs. Part Six.

Day 7 - The Cunning Plan

Sunrise

The day had started dull. 

The vultures had gathered. 

The portents were not good. 

They were poor portents...

We continued on our search for tracks. Dogs would have done just as well.
Paw prints led us to the usual culprits...
This one is having his fill of milk. Their ability to crush bones take a year or more to finesse, so the milk bar stays open late.

This one is tarting herself up..

We struggled on. A lone stork regarded us with contempt from his vantage point on top of a tree. It may be a good vantage point, but it's rubbish for catching fish.

It was clear that with only a couple of days left, our chances of finding dogs was rapidly approaching zero.
Zero was not good.
With no dogs to photograph, I focussed on impala. This little one was all alone. I give it two hours.

We still searched for tracks in the sand rivers.
If any tracks were to be found here, this guy was busy walking all over them. (And crapping all over them too.)

The landscape here is beautiful and constantly changing. Baobabs everywhere, thankfully providing photo-opportunities. That don't move fast.

It is humbling being close to a living thing over two thousand years old. My wife tells me that all the time.

Although this one was a little emaciated. 

Ah. Not a baobab...

I even stooped to taking photos of a bushbuck pooping.

Taking silhouettes of giraffes was no replacement for our canine friends. This also involved stooping.

We went back to camp for lunch.
We were ravenous...

Well. The time had come to make a decision. We needed a new plan. An innovative plan. A desperate plan. A cunning plan. A plan more cunning than a hyena...

And more desperate.

The pack of dogs that we were trying to spot clearly were not playing ball. They had been unseen for several days by anyone. Not even the ball had been seen.
However, to the east, four hours drive away, just outside the game reserve, dogs had been spotted this very same morning. Painted dogs. Not the other sort.
And thus Plan C was born. C for 'Cunning'.
We would up sticks and go there.

The dogs had been spotted outside the gate at 6:15 that morning crossing the main road. 'Main Road' is a comparative word. Traffic here is nearly as rare as wild dogs, although, as we were to find out, not as agile...
We would drive three hours that afternoon to a campsite near the eastern gate of the reserve.
This would mean camping out under the stars.
We would sleep overnight under nowt but a mosquito net, then up at the crack of dawn the next morning. We needed to leave that temporary camp before 6am to get outside the reserve in time to stand a chance of seeing them.
Outside of the park the bush was dense and not easy to search. Pretty much like the bush inside the reserve...
We packed and were ready for off.
We had been assured by other guest who had already camped out that this was not dangerous. They had a whole set up of toilets, kitchen, campfires, shower, machine guns... we'd be amazed when we saw it.
After only two hours drive, we saw our camp, and we were amazed.

They were stuck.
There was our camp, an hour from where it needed to be. Totally stuck. With no chance of getting out that day, or even the next.
We were in trouble. Big trouble.

A new plan was required: Plan C, version 2. C for even more cunning...

The separate parts of the portable camp would be transported, with local help, to a nearby lake shore. As we could not pass the truck without wings, we needed to detour. About half an hour's drive.
This we did.

As the sun was setting, heading towards the lake, we realised that we were not alone.

These two lions were heading in the same direction as us.
But they had things on their mind other than eating campers.

They were horny.

Horny but still heading towards our camp...

We arrived in the dark with the lions trailing far (but not far enough) behind us. The tents had just arrived and were being erected. In the dark.
We couldn't really see what they were doing. We just hoped that they had better night vision than us.
Here are pictures I took later the following day.

The tent on the right is the changing room, where our stuff was stored. The green netting thing on the left is where we were to sleep. Gulp. The 'washroom' was outside. My thoughts went back to this morning's poor potents...
The toilet, however, was constructed about 50 meters away.

The intervening stretch of crocodile infested beach (with added hippos and lions) had to be traversed in the dark...

We ate, drank, made merry, then entered our chamber for the night....

A whole night passed by without toilet trips...

Day’s End

Daily Bonus: Annick's favourite iPhone image from Day 7

Sunrise on our penultimate day; 
the day before our ultimate day...

To be continued in the next blog, finally entitled Part Seven - The Finale.

Part one of this amazing story, 'Getting There' can be found here.
Part two of this amazing story, 'Selous Game Reserve' can be found here.
Part three of this amazing story, 'A Near Miss' can be found here.
Part four of this amazing story, A Romantic Interlude' can be found here.
The previous part of this amazing story, 'Alone' & 'Plan B' can be found here.
The Next Part is Here!