When visiting Humani in the Save Conservancy, one
can be assured of being introduced to the newest member of the
Humani clan. This extraordinary new addition is an orphan rhino calf
named Jimmy, who is being raised by Anne Whittall. When Jimmy
arrived at the Humani homestead, weak and in a generally sorry
state, Anne was forced to play the part of foster mother rhino. Many
will agree that there could be no-one better for the role.
Jimmy joined the family under the most dreadful
circumstances, his mother having been shot by a poacher. Rhino
poaching has been a huge problem in Zimbabwe over the past
twenty-five years, and what was once a healthy national population
has been depleted to critical proportions. Of the remaining few
hundred rhino in this country, the Save Conservancy harbors a far
greater number than any other wildlife area. Because small pockets
in other parts of Zimbabwe have been totally wiped out, the Save
Conservancy has recently been targeted in a fairly big way, with ten
rhino shot in little over a year. The rhino war(s) continue unabated
and Jimmy is just another victim of that ongoing struggle. Let me
tell you Jimmy’s story…..
The
news came in from a gamescout patrol via hand-held radio. A rhino
had been poached not far from Elephant water-point in the Jurus
area, and they had discovered the carcass. Always quick to react to
any crisis situation on Humani, manager Charlie Pienaar and a
handful of gamescouts were at the scene in double quick time. The
kill zone was actually a few kilometers into a vast mopani forest
that offsets the acacia-sprinkled, open plains of Jurus. After
scouting about the immediate vicinity for clues and coming up
empty-handed, an emotional Charlie returned to HQ to report to Roger
Whittall. He had a tragic story to tell. The rhino had been killed
days before, at a time when it had been raining. The killer was a
thorough professional, using the wet weather to cover his tracks and
leaving no clue whatsoever. He had shot the rhino once in the brain,
hacked the horns and ears off, covered the carcass with brush to
hide it from vultures, and departed the scene as efficiently as he
had committed his dastardly deed. The reason he lopped the ears off
was because he was aware that the Conservancy identifies its rhino
by marking ears. This guy was also aware of much else. Rhino are
very territorial and he knew in exactly which area to find his
target. He also knew, before he shot the rhino, that Roger Whittall
had recalled his gamescouts for a few days, for a bit of rest and
recuperation. He struck at precisely the right moment and his
planning and actions were meticulous and well calculated. This man
knew what he was about and he left nothing to chance. Once Charlie
had finished telling what he had observed, there was no doubt in
anyone’s mind that it was an inside job. Someone with knowledge of
the area and the goings on at Humani must definitely be involved. It
sickened us all to the core.
Although Roger, Charlie and others were well aware
that the rhino in question had recently birthed and had a very young
calf at heel, nothing much was thought of it. The rhino had been
killed about four days before the vultures had led scouts to her
carcass, and the calf’s chances of survival were assumed to be
non-existent. Especially since Charlie reported seeing an abundance
of fresh lion spoor crisscrossing the area, and no trace of the calf
whatsoever. It seemed an absolute impossibility that the calf could
have survived, and yet there was a twist in the tale. That twist was
little Jimmy’s will to live.
To this day, I don’t know what prompted me to ask
Roger if I could go to the scene of the crime the following morning.
There was no need to – the carcass and vicinity had been effectively
checked over the day before. Anyway, I just wanted to go and look,
and Roger thought it was a good idea. As an afterthought, Roger
instructed me to take a couple of scouts along and dig around for a
bullet in the rotten carcass. That command didn’t exactly fill me
with enthusiasm. Anyhow, soon I was on my way with Isaac Bangai and
Rindai Rindai, two trusty RWS trackers that operate as senior
gamescouts in the hunting off-season. I have worked with Isaac and
Rindai extensively and know them both to be extremely capable and
willing fellows. Isaac usually tracks for professional hunter
Thierry Labat, whilst Rindai is PH Peter Wood’s man. As it turned
out, I couldn’t have had a couple of better guys along for the ride.
We called on the radio and arranged to meet with the
gamescouts who had made the grisly discovery, so that they could
lead us in. They were waiting for us when we arrived at Elephant
water-point half an hour later. After driving a couple of
kilometers, we left the vehicle on the roadside and entered
close-knit mopani forest, walking off in single file behind Daniel,
the stick leader of that particular scout patrol. There were three
scouts, so we were six in total. Great, I thought to myself, I
wouldn’t need to do too much digging around in the rotting rhino –
there were plenty of hands for the job! Can’t totally give up on the
old colonial bit, you know. I mean, who built Southern Africa
anyway!
After Daniel lost his way a couple of times, we came
to the place. As we approached the pathetic lump of dead mass that
represented what was once the pride of this land’s wildlife
heritage, a huge lump came to my throat. Who could do this thing, I
silently wondered. All was quiet for long minutes as we all just
stared in disbelief at the horrific scene before our eyes. It was a
truly shocking sight and every man amongst us felt bitter
resentment. Not resentment actually – rage and hatred. But it was
wasted emotion because we were helpless to do anything. Unless…
Unless we could find something, some clue for investigators to work
with. We got to work chopping off the head and began dissecting it.
I actually did assist in the gruesome labor
initially, but only to get the others inspired. After about thirty
minutes of inhaling and groping around in the maggot-infested,
putrid flesh, however, I decided that the others were by now well
inspired and decided to go on a little reconnaissance patrol about
the vicinity. I informed the men that I was off to take a look
about, suggesting that maybe I would find a clue. Maybe the poacher
dropped a bullet or something? The guys, who were now onto
dissecting the forequarters, all regarded me doubtfully but agreed
that it was a possibility. Their reaction told me that I had about a
one in a zillion chance of finding anything. But, hey, you never
know. Besides, I just enjoy scouting about unfamiliar country. It is
amazing what I have discovered in the past by just heading off and
roaming around the woods for a while.
After
walking a large semi-circle through the forest for about forty-five
minutes or so, seeing many lion tracks but observing nothing out of
the ordinary, I decided to return to the carcass. I find it pretty
easy to get lost in the bush, and it took me a while to work out my
bearings and start heading back in what I sort of thumb-sucked was
the right direction. Changing tack a few times, I soon set myself on
a course and began walking in what I thought to be a straight line.
I always believe I am holding a straight line when walking in the
bush, though usually I am not. In fact, I don’t remember ever
walking a straight line! Anyway, I was headed where I was headed and
off I went, whistling a little ditty to myself as I strode through
the mopani. Not fifteen minutes later, I walked onto Jimmy.
It was an absolute miracle that I walked onto him.
He was hidden behind and partially beneath a leafy bush, and if I
had walked ten yards either side, I would have missed him. As it
was, I almost literally walked onto him. I took a step, glancing
casually to my left as I did, and then I froze in mid-stride. I only
froze for a second or two, but much took place in that time. I saw
the baby rhino lying prone behind the bush with only his
forequarters visible, staring wide-eyed up at me. Due to his
wide-eyed expression, my first reaction was that he was dead, and in
that instant I felt the double-whammy of loss. But then he blinked
and I saw that he was definitely not dead, just too petrified to
move and risk discovery. Although very young, Jimmy had already been
given impressionable insight into the cruel nature of human beings.
I paused for only that second or two, and then I continued on my way
without any other reaction, so as to not unduly alarm the little
guy. About forty yards later, when I was well away from him, I burst
into a flat sprint through the mopani. It was the fastest I have
moved in years and thoughts were pounding through my mind. Where
were the guys? God, I hope I’m going in the right direction! How far
did I walk, how far am I from the others? As I ran, fending off
whippy branches with my arms, I tried to figure where I was, and
more importantly, where the guys were. I ran for several hundred
meters in this fashion, before stopping to listen for the first
time. It was probably the first several hundred meter sprint I’ve
ever done! Blood was rushing through my veins, my breathing was
ragged, and I found it difficult to tune my ears into surrounding
sound. Where was I, where were they? Almost panicking, I wanted to
scream out my frustration. I closed my eyes for a minute and allowed
the blood rush to slow slightly, working my jaw and trying to clear
my ears. And then I heard the deep booming laugh of Isaac Bangai,
carrying faintly on the wind. The men were somewhere up ahead,
slightly off to the left. Had I thought about it then, I would have
realized that I had almost achieved a straight line on my return
route. But I didn’t think about anything, because I was sprinting
off through the bush again.
Isaac, Rindai and the scouts appraised me
quizzically as I approached at the run and came to an untidy halt
beside them. Between gasps, I told them that I had seen a rhino in
the bush.
‘Did it chase you?’ asked Isaac.
‘No, it is a young rhino.’
‘Even a young rhino can chase you,’ stated Daniel,
matter of factly.
‘It is very young,’ I said, hands on knees, getting
my breathing back under control. ‘It is the baby of this dead
rhino.’
‘Is it dead?’ asked Isaac, getting down to business
in his no-nonsense manner.
‘No, otherwise I would not have tried to kill myself
by running as fast as I did to get back to you.’ My heart-rate was
returning to normal.
‘Let us go and catch it then.’
‘Yes, let us go and catch it.’
‘Handidi.’ ‘No way,’ said Daniel, ‘that thing
will bite someone!’
A short argument ensued as I tried to convince
Daniel and the other two scouts that the rhino would do anything but
bite them. It would charge them, butt them, run them over, but it
would certainly not bite them. They were not convinced and I ended
up with the support of only Isaac and Rindai. As it turned out, it
was probably a good thing – less is sometimes more. Without further
ado, Isaac, Rindai and I retraced my headlong flight through the
mopani. As we went, we discussed our plan of action – our rhino
capture strategy.
Stealthily,
we approached the bush where I knew the little calf to be. Now, when
I write ‘little’, I mean to say I had already estimated it to be
somewhere around 50 kilograms. Although I imagined it would have
next to no strength, having been without milk for days on end, I
really didn’t know what it was capable of. Our intention was to
capture the rhino fast, with as little commotion as possible, in
order to avoid causing it more trauma than it had already endured.
Above all, I did not want to risk it getting away from us and
heading off into the mopani. It had survived as long as it had, how
much longer could it live? Bearing all of the above in mind, we
sneaked in on who we would soon get to know as Jimmy, me from the
front, and Isaac and Rindai from the rear. We were all well prepped
and each guy knew what he had to do, although the game-plan was not
exactly complicated. Basically, it boiled down to ‘grab the rhino
and don’t let go!’ Actually there was a little more to it – I was to
try a soft approach first and test the little guy’s strength. But
Isaac and Rindai knew they needed to be very close when I made first
contact. I made certain they were well aware of that!
As I slowly and silently crept in the last few
yards, I thought it was going to be a cinch. Jimmy did not stir, but
his little eyes followed my approach all the way in. And then I was
within a yard, slowly and purposefully bending my knees, lowering
myself to his level. There was no reaction whatsoever as I squatted
down before the rhino, and so I reached out my hand to touch its
face. And that was the point when I realized the capture was not
going to be a cinch, as Jimmy exploded from the ground and butted me
viciously about the knees! I toppled over backwards onto my
backside, but as I did, I grabbed hold of one of his ears and held
on for dear life! Huffing and snorting, Jimmy fast intensified the
attack, the barrage of head-butts crashing into my legs and torso
intensifying by the second. The fact that that month old creature
possessed that amount of power after four days without nourishment
is beyond me to this day. Whilst I am not a WWF wrestler or
anything, neither am I a weak man, and I struggled with everything I
had to hold onto Jimmy for those few seconds. The head-butting was
enough to bring out bruises on my legs the following day. What a
fight he put up! Poor little guy must have thought it was his last
fight.
Though I was certainly on the receiving end of a
serious thrashing, my tag team thankfully wasted no time coming to
my assistance. Within seconds, Isaac had a back leg grasped firmly,
whilst Rindai came to lend a hand up front. Then we dropped Jimmy
like a sheep, whipping all his legs out from under him. Once he was
down, Jimmy began squealing hysterically, probably assuming the
fight was now really over and death imminent. You assume animals
don’t think that way? Specifically month old animals? Let me assure
you that they do. Animals know all about death from the day they are
born. Anyhow, Jimmy began squealing like a stuck pig and trying his
utmost to tear his head from my grasp. In the process, he swept me
around in the dust a little. Isaac and Rindai held onto his legs
resolutely, and Daniel and the other scouts observed proceedings
from a safe distance. Jimmy satisfactorily demonstrated the awesome
power a rhino possesses during that encounter, specifically in the
neck and shoulder region. Three strong men struggled for minutes on
end to restrain a 50 kg animal that had not fed for four days, and
that is almost unbelievable. Only believable because I was there!
Eventually, a semblance of order came about when I
whipped off my shirt and covered the exposed side of Jimmy’s face.
Then he could not see and the crazy head threshing eased. But I
still had to clasp his head tightly to my body – the slightest
release of pressure brought about a renewed effort. Once he had
calmed a little, Daniel and other two scouts plucked up the courage
to approach closer. I barked out orders.
‘Daniel, wuya kuno!’ ‘Come here!’
There must have been something in my tone that made
Daniel temporarily forget his fear of being bitten by a rhino, and
he obeyed with alacrity. I ordered him to take over Rindai’s
position holding the front legs. Rindai is a driver and we needed
him to go and fetch the vehicle as fast as possible. I instructed
him not to waste too much time looking for a suitable route through
the mopani, but to return with all due haste! About 40 minutes
later, we heard Rindai returning when he was still some distance
away. From the sound of things, he had taken my instructions to
heart! Not long after, he was revving and ramming his way up to us
through the last hundred meters of mopani. As the truck approached,
I turned to Isaac who was still patiently manning the rear end of a
now fairly subdued rhino calf.
‘What is its name?’ I asked.
Of course, although I have been referring to Jimmy
as a ‘he’ throughout this story, we had no idea what sex he was. In
a similar vein, I have been referring to him as Jimmy, but we
obviously had no name for him. That was the case up until the point
when Isaac peered between the
calf’s back legs and made a positive identification
regarding sex. Isaac did not ponder the name choice for long.
‘James. Jimmy, we shall call him Jimmy,’ stated the
deep voice.
It was very easy to agree with Isaac’s name choice:
Roger Whittall’s father, James, was known as Jimmy, and Roger’s
grandson (Guy’s son) is named James. And so, Jimmy officially joined
the fold.
The work of the Humani rhino capture unit was not
over yet, far from it in fact. As soon as we began trying to load
Jimmy, the hysterical squealing and frantic struggling started up
again. It would continue for the next hour, as Isaac and I tried to
keep him under control in the back of the cruiser and Rindai ferried
us home to Humani. An interesting thing to note is that, along the
way, Jimmy drenched my legs with urine. This undoubtedly proved that
he had drunk since the demise of his milk supplier. Taking the
amount of urine that flowed into consideration, he had drunk a fair
amount recently. The only answer to this is that he taught himself
to drink water from one of several pans that are in close proximity
to the place we found him. Another astounding revelation pertaining
to this determined fellow. Thankfully, once we reached Roger and
Anne’s house, there were many hands to help us offload Jimmy into
temporary, rhino-proof lodgings. I was totally exhausted by that
time. What an ordeal the capture of Jimmy had been! Imagine if he’d
been two months old! We’d probably still be out there!
As soon as Roger Whittall saw who we had brought
home, he took things in hand. It is always a sight to behold when
Roger decides to take things in hand! Barking instructions at anyone
and everyone that came within his line of sight, Roger soon had
‘operation Jimmy’ well underway. Obviously, the first and most
important task was to get some food inside Jim, and several
individuals were dispatched with orders to contact various rhino
gurus countrywide, for information regarding rhino milk formula. In
the meantime, we felt we should get something into him ASAP, and so
we opted for straight cow’s milk. After a brief scuffle, Jim smelt
the milk seeping from the strange teat and he latched on like a
rhino possessed. It was apparent that it was not going to be a
problem coaxing him to feed! Later in the day, a proven rhino
formula was mailed to Humani and orders were sent out to purchase
the necessary ingredients. It took a few days for those ingredients
to arrive, and during that time we kept him on skimmed cow’s milk.
Evidently, rhinoceros milk does not contain much fat. Jimmy did not
seem to know this, however, and he greedily guzzled down each and
every bottle of milk proffered him from day one, no matter whose
udder it came from! He drank so much we thought we may be
over-feeding him. But if we stopped feeding him, he became
aggressive! From the word go, he drank eight litres of milk per day.
This quantity has been on the increase ever since, and today, seven
months after his arrival, he consumes three times that amount.
Jimmy went from strength to strength from, let’s
say, day four of his stay at ‘Hotel Humani.’ Although he fed well
during those four days, he was a tad disturbed. The reason for this
was probably that Anne Whittall was away, and we decided to keep him
in a confined little pen until her return. Not very hospitable, but
we were nervous he’d make a getaway during the night if we didn’t
keep him under lock and key. Upon Anne’s return a few days later,
however, he was released into the garden and his stress level was
lowered considerably. Everyone had strict instructions to keep all
gates closed at all times, and Jimmy had the run of the garden. From
that moment, his character began changing. Over the past few months,
Jimmy has turned from an angry and aggressive little tyke into a
relaxed, friendly individual. Before he did not trust most everyone
and delivered many a knee popping head-butt, but now he enjoys the
company of people a great deal. This may not be such a good thing –
he will have to return to the wild one day.
Jimmy prefers women to men, and this is solely
because of Anne, whom he understands very well to be his mother.
This is not surprising as Anne bottle-feeds him five or six times a
day. He also eats a couple of pounds of livestock cubes a day, and
has begun browsing a fair amount in the garden. His introduction to
browsing has been a gradual process, and at first he just picked at
leaves, occasionally popping one in his mouth, maybe chewing it a
little, before spitting it out. He seemed more curious about eating
leaves than anything else. As though he knew he should be, but just
couldn’t bring himself to do it. That is all in the past, however,
and he now spends a healthy amount of time doing what a black rhino
should be doing, and that is browsing. Although Jimmy is well on the
way to making browse his full time diet, heaven help anyone who
dares forget his feed time! Not yet anyway – Jimmy is probably just
over eight months old now, and rhino calves stay with their mothers
till about two years of age.
Jimmy is not allowed into the house but he doesn’t
seem to know this. At times, he likes to come into the lounge and
socialize. When he is feeling neglected, he squeaks his indignation
and people jump around. We have what is supposed to be a rhino-proof
steel gate blocking off the verandah entrance to the house, but
Jimmy butts it over and enters anyway. Well, he used to butt it
over. Not so long ago, he attempted the bulldozer angle once too
often, and the heavy steel gate fell on top of him. Then he squealed
in anger and wouldn’t let anyone near for about an hour. Anne
treated his minor wounds with some antiseptic spray and he looked
pretty hilarious with blue splotches on his back. I think it taught
him a good lesson, for he now avoids that entrance to the house,
preferring to make use of the many others.
Jimmy has quite a few friends these days – the dogs,
two orphan cows and the orphan buffalo. He has also introduced
himself to a family of warthogs that frequent the front lawn in the
evenings. The smaller warthogs are terrified of him, but mommy hog
is simply curious and once they almost touched snouts before
uncertainty caused her to flee.
Anne often takes Jimmy walking, and I have
accompanied a couple of those walks in recent times. I was warned in
advance that rhino walks can be hazardous, and the only reason I put
myself on the line was in the name of frontline journalism. What an
experience those walks were! The whole thing, you see, is that these
excursions have nothing to do with walking. Not rhino walking
anyway. No, this is all about shuffle or gallop, no walking involved
at all. Anne and the dogs walk ahead while Jimmy brings up the rear,
shuffling along and losing ground as he goes. Suddenly he realizes
he has been left behind and achieves zero to top gear in seconds.
Rhino are extremely short-sighted and, pounding down the road after
Anne, Jimmy seldom picks her out until he is really close. Narrow
misses are often the order of the walk. Jimmy has up-ended Anne once
before and she was not overly amused. It is actually fairly
dangerous, and Anne now walks with a metal contraption that I’ll
take the liberty of calling a brace-frame. Hopefully it will absorb
most of the impact the next time Jimmy doesn’t slow down in time!
Late one night, a guest who was expected much
earlier in the day arrived at Humani. Most had long since retired,
but being a nocturnal sort of type, I was still awake. After a cup
of coffee, I directed the exhausted guest to his bedroom, which is
adjoined to the bathroom. Imagine what a shock the poor fellow
received when he bumbled sleepily into the bathroom and found Jimmy
bedded down for the night beside the bath! The alarmed guest backed
through the bathroom door and out onto the verandah at pace, almost
falling over backwards as he did. I was enjoying a late night
cigarette on the verandah, and looked up surprised. Had he seen a
snake or something, I wondered. Wide-eyed and white as a sheet, the
poor fellow turned to me and began stammering, struggling to find
words.
‘What is it?’ I prompted him.
‘Dave, there’s a…there’s a…a…a…a’
‘A what, come on spit it out?’ By now I was a little
concerned and had flicked my cigarette away, readying myself for
action. This is Humani, after all, and this guy could have
encountered anything at all in the bathroom.
‘There’s a…a…a…r…r….rrrr’ He had got past a, and
moved onto r, which was good progress. And then I suddenly got it.
Jimmy had had a bit of an altercation with Anne earlier in the day,
because he had objected to her re-arranging his straw bed behind the
office. Obviously sulking, he had decided to boycott his bedroom for
the bathroom! The disturbed guest was still trying to find the
words.
‘There’s a..a…r..r..rhi..rhi…’ He was getting there
but I decided to save him further agony at that point.
‘There’s a rhino in the bathroom?’ I asked
It came out with a rush as he nodded his head
vigorously in the affirmative. ‘Yes, there’s a rhino in the
bathroom, a rhino in the bathroom, a rhino…..’ Now that he had it,
he didn’t want to stop.
I put a re-assuring hand on the guy’s shoulder.
‘Don’t stress, that’s Jimmy, come and meet him…’
Needless to say, that guest was not overly keen to
introduce himself to young Jim.
When we found Jimmy, we estimated him to weigh
between 50 and 60 kilograms. He is now over three times that weight
– probably 200 or so kilograms. Although he is mostly a placid kind
of guy, he is also super tough and possesses unbelievable strength
for an animal his size and age. The strength in his shoulders and
neck, specifically, is awesome. I would hate to see the fellow who
is butted by him when he’s a mature rhino! I hope it’s not me but it
probably will be! When Jimmy arrived at Roger and Anne’s house at
the beginning of the year, he could fit under the tea table. Now,
his back is inches higher than that table, and he collides with it
on a regular basis, smashing cups, saucers etc. Though still a tiny
stump, Jimmy’s horn is also growing at a rapid rate. I sometimes
wish he wasn’t growing that controversial horn.
Although Jimmy clearly loves Anne more than any
other, I like to think he has a soft spot for me. I also like to
think that this is because he remembers that I am the one who found
him. I have done very little of significance in my life, but finding
Jimmy certainly tops the list. I spend a great deal of time with
Jimmy when I’m on Humani, and I consider us friends. I just need to
remind myself, every once in a while, that you can be beaten up by a
friend!
|
David
Hulme is a Zimbabwean writer and professional wanderer
who spends most of his time searching for new stories
and country, never staying too long in any one place. |
Jimmy joined the Humani/Whittall fold as the result of a terrible
tragedy, and none of us should ever forget the details of that
tragedy. Conversely, because miracles do happen, Jimmy is not a
statistic of the ongoing rhino war, rather he is a survivor. I do
not consider young Jimmy Whittall to be a victim of one brutal rhino
slaying in a dense mopani forest that flanks the Juru’s area of
Humani. No, I consider him to be a shining ray of hope in the entire
saga that is the Zimbabwe rhino tragedy. It is guys like Jimmy who
inspire the rest of us to carry on fighting. It is guys like Jimmy
who constantly remind us that, no matter how impossible victory may
seem at times, this war is not yet over…..