Muscles so supple that you can barely see them moving, the lioness rises, sniffs the air, then quietly moves a hundred yards closer, settling down by a bush. We keep watching, but she never moves. Our tracker, who sits on a chair bolted to the hood of the Land Rover, waves to Justin to drive forward slowly. We stop barely within view this time, and wait, and wait, and wait. Twenty minutes later she hasn't moved, so we drive away.
On our next drive, in the early evening, we again track down the pride of lions that treat this section of the Singhita Private Reserve, which is inside South Africa’s Kruger National Park, as their private domain. They've obviously made a kill, because they just loll around, sleep and occasionally flick their tails to get rid of flies.
They look like they are dead, we joke. But just then one rolls over to lie on its back, legs in the air just like our dog and a friend’s tame house cat often sleep. Another lion with a massive mane lifts his head, sleepily open his eyes, stands up and walks a few feet. He lies down again leaning partially against another lion’s body, who lifts his head and stares in our direction. Watching this lion’s face as he yawns, we realize how dangerous these animals really are.
It’s getting dark and it’s obvious, after watching the sleeping pride for a half-hour, that they aren’t going hunting tonight. So, we start driving back, but along the way our tracker flicks his light towards motion in the bush. It’s the lioness again, and she’s out hunting with a friend. We follow the two of them on a 4-wheel expedition that includes driving over small bushes, hearing the shale rock crack under our wheels as the Land Rover slips then churns upward over a slanted rock face. We lose both. Then, we hear a lion pushing through some brush. Found one. Got a photo - and she disappears for good.
We never saw the kill, if the lioness made one that night, but we have forever memories of this magnificent animal in its natural habitat.
