Stories from the Road – Okavango Delta, Botswana
By Ronan Heisten
I rub sleep out of my eyes and relinquish the covers that I’d been fighting my brother for all night. The muffled buzz of insects pauses periodically as I splash my face with warm water. My mom and I had decided on an early-morning excursion—rare for us night owls—to round out the afternoon boat and evening jeep safaris of the days before. The sun is low, and the breeze blows enough to ease us into a day that’s going to be extremely warm. Although wildlife is out and birds are chirping, there is a mesmerizing stillness to the world. The sky is chalky gray, one of the rare occasions during our time in often-sunny Botswana. A few minutes into our game drive, it begins to sprinkle rain, pattering against the canvas top of the vehicle.
The first hour remains drizzly and quiet. We see a few boar, tails raised in alarm as something approaches behind their den. A litter of Cape foxes plays with their mom in the dirt, just like puppies back home. A baby elephant with half a trunk crosses with its herd in front of us, and I wonder how the injury will affect its life.
Our driver comes to a sudden halt and bobs her head toward the right side of the jeep. There stands an impala, alone and shaking. Normally, game trucks will send impalas—who are prey for many animals—leaping quickly away. This one doesn’t budge. She is immune to our presence, fully occupied with something far more important. As we look closer, I can see two tiny hooves hanging out from under her tail. I’m usually kind of squeamish, but I can’t look away over the next hour as the hooves turn into legs and then a body and then finally a tiny impala face. The newborn lays shivering slightly as the mother cleans it, then slowly raises its head. My mom and I watch as it stands, wobbling. It takes three comical, knee-knocking attempts to get to its feet. Its first steps are in search of its mother’s milk, and I’m struck by how it knows where to find the meal.
Our guide is kind and patient with us, happy to stay as long as we want to watch, but mostly stares into the middle distance during the birth. I realize she’s likely been witness to something like this many times before.
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