Signs of the Wild [antikvár]

Preamble"They hear on the wind, as it passes, the call of the veld" Mary Byron, "The Call of the Veld"Years ago as a very young man hunting elephants in the Mahell area, near the Olifants river in Mocambique, I first learnt what wind meant when crawling on all fours the heavy .416 calibre rifle feeling like some large chunk of lead and not the finely engineered instrument of destruction it was.We knew they were ahead, because we could hear the tearing of branches and the rumbling, so well known with these giants. I was a complete novice in the art of stalking and well aware of the acute senses of these creatures with which we sought to close, and the wind, which is all important in their struggle with man.The heat, humidity and closeness of that thick bush was unbelievable and suddenly, silence not even, it seemed, the song of birds just nothing . . . those who have stalked elephant, will understand exactly what I mean the silence prolonged and the suspense considerable.I remember looking at Hans Bufe, wanting him to make the decision, but he did not have to, for they were gone on the wind . . . The wind, which plays such an important part in the bushveld. Get to know it, and you can make it work for you, but it can just as easily work against you.The game trails are being followed more and more by those in pursuit of understanding the signs of the wild and less and less by those in the wake of the gun.The bushveld is not always the scene of vast numbers of moving animals, but more often empty and silent except, perhaps, for the wind. All around us, however, we find the signs of the passing of many species of wildlife a honey badger, seldom seen, who passed this way during the night. How do we know it passed in the night? Do we know its spoor or its faeces or do we find a portion of honey comb or, possibly, a hole reaching down nearly 60 cm with dark brown, sweet tasting honey at the bottom? These are some of the questions I have often asked myself.The hunter-gatherers knew for it is the source of life. Men such as Selous, Finaughty, Petrus Jacobs and Viljoen knew, for it was part of their profession. Rangers, trackers and scouts know. The black man, in particular, knows for he grew up with it. But what of the new band of scientists, naturalists, trailers and ordinary men and women, boys and girls who seek to understand more of the ways of the wild?Driving along a dusty track in Sable-Sand during 1974, we stopped to observe tracks in the fine sand and it was interesting how many ventured