African Vignette: Alternative Wildlife Spotting
Wildlife by proxy...
The naïve visitor is unaware of what you see the most of in wild Africa. Large mammals and small are all mobile, but what they leave behind is not. Put mobility together with an herbivorous diet requiring the ingestion of serious amounts of plant matter, most of which goes through undigested, and you come to the inevitable conclusion that the land must be full of crap. And so it is! The only animal signs present in similar amounts are tracks, often decorated with dung. Or put another way, one is much more likely to spot the animal’s calling card than to spot the animal. After a long dry spell of cruising the roads of Kruger National Park (South Africa) without spotting any animals, dung begins to look more and more interesting, and one tends to seek a certain expertise in its interpretation.
Of course, some animals produce dung that demands more attention than others. Kudu or wildebeest have rather undistinguished products that they drop hither and thither, but rhinos are very serious about their dung, and make very special efforts to do it just right. Because rhinos are rarely spotted, the sight of a rhino midden creates a certain amount of excitement. “Look, another rhino midden,” I would say, receiving a smirk or an “Oh Dad!” from Vicki and Erika. The longer we had been animal-less, the more likely it was that I was unable to drive past a midden without commenting. Rhinos create these middens by defecating in the same spots repeatedly over months or years, and kicking the dung into massive, loose piles with their hind legs. Roadsides are a favorite place for middens. The piles can have a diameter of 20 or more feet and play a role in territorial marking. Once we recognized what these dung piles were, we could always tell when we were passing through a rhino’s territory and keep a special lookout for the perpetrator. Unfortunately, this dung-inspired vigilance never led to a rhino sighting.
Elephants dung, understandably, is also rather special, both because of its size and its composition. Because elephants eat almost every kind of plant material, their dung is quite variable. One ball may consist of crushed wood from some hapless tree, while another is composed more of grassy material. In either case, it is difficult to understand what elephants draw their nourishment from, for most of what they eat seems to come out the other end in almost unchanged form (except that it is no longer any use for making baskets or thatching houses). I suppose that’s why they eat as much as 250 lbs. per day. That’s also why other animals, such as the baboon below, find plenty to eat by rummaging through elephant dung.
Unlike rhino dung, which was never followed by a sighting, there was a better link between elephants and their dung. On the road to Mopani Rest Camp, we saw several large balls of elephant dung, accompanied by half-dried rivulets of urine that coursed from the road crown to the shoulder. A few kilometers later, there were more, and they were still wet and the urine still trickling, and then there was more of both, and I said, “There’s gotta be elephants around here,” because I’m a professional biologist, and I know these things. “How about there?” said Vicki who was ignoring detective work and simply looking out the car window, as we almost zipped past a gray bull, head down in a mopani bush, trunk on the ground, dozing quietly away. Then of course we spotted more, many more, often at some distance from the road. This area was known as a range for bachelor elephants, and indeed, most of the individuals we saw were males.
When it comes to dung, the hippo is the most imaginative. Hippos, of course, spend their days in the water and travel overland at night to feed. They waddle along trails that resemble twin tire tracks because their legs are so far apart. They do not defecate in the water, but seek out just the right bush, back up to it, and flick their tails while defecating. This scatters their dung so that little bits of it decorate all parts of the bush-victim. Again, this seems to be important for territorial marking, but Erika discovered an alternate explanation in an African folk tale. It appears that at the time of creation, the hippo requested that he be allowed to live in the water. OK, said the creator, but you are not allowed to eat the fish. To monitor this deal, the hippo was forced to scatter his dung on bushes so that it could be inspected for fish bones.
But dung doesn’t have to be large to be worth attention. Male impala also have habitual defecation spots (middens) where they accumulate huge numbers of their rabbit-pellet-like dung. These too mark the males’ territory. During rutting season, the males try to keep the female herds within their territories so they can mate with them, while at the same time trying to keep other males out. The females don’t pay them much attention and go wherever they please. Territorial males have almost no time to feed and lose a lot of weight during this time. Being a male impala ain’t easy--- when the females aren’t ignoring you, the lions are eyeing you as a snack.
Which brings up the final, and in some ways most impressive dung--- hyena. These are large, stubby, dog-like bits that turn completely white within a day or so. Crush one and you will find only powder and a few bits of hair. Being eaten by a hyena, bones and all, is to vanish without a recognizable trace. The hyena is the machine that turns you back into dust.
Wonderfully entertaining and informative. Thank you!
One of my favorite words is midden, but I’d only ever heard/read it used, either in the context of pack rats, or archeological sites such as a kitchen (hearth) midden. Fun to bump into it here in its other definition. The idea of “things left behind” as proxy for getting a view of something is lovely.