Predator and Prey: How Close Can You Get?

I love hearing from readers—your questions can inspire my next story. This week my good friend, Leav Bolender, asked me why the lions, leopards, or cheetahs don’t jump in the trucks when we are so close. We look like easy prey in open vehicles! Yes, I did get very close to Fig on more than one occasion. Safety is paramount—the drivers and guides are not cavalier about the reality of being so close to wild animals.

When you go out on your first game drive, the guide will brief you on the rules: no loud talking, no quick movements, pay attention to the guide and follow instructions, never get out of the vehicle unless you have been told it is okay by the driver. The guides are knowledgeable and experienced. They love talking about the wildlife they are so passionate about. There is a time and place for these stories; if we are close to an animal be quiet, be still. For all their skill at reading animal behaviour, I have learned that they are just as good reading human behaviour. Guides know when they can trust their guests to behave appropriately. In my experience mutual trust often translates to great encounters with wildlife.

Here’s a few reasons why the cats don’t see the tourists as lunch:

1. The vehicle represents a beast that is larger than the cat, thereby earning the animal’s respect.

2. Never get out of the vehicle around a big cat—that changes the above dynamic in an instant.

3. In areas like the Maasai Mara and Amboseli National Park the cats are accustomed to seeing vehicles—they are not threatened by them since they are not hunted by them and they are never fed by humans. In Kenya—don’t feed the wildlife—is taken very seriously.

4. My Maasai friends have told me on numerous occasions that lions are afraid of humans. I would not want to test that statement, but I have witnessed it on a couple of occasions.

5. Humans are not part of the big cats’ diet. Yes, lions have killed people, but it is extremely rare. It has occurred in areas where there is human encroachment on habitat resulting in human wildlife conflict. The big cats would choose a Maasai herder’s cow or sheep before they would choose the herder.

6. Local people know how to avoid encountering a predator when they are on foot. They understand where they might hang out and they are experienced in defending themselves with traditional weapons, not guns, if ever threatened.

7. The only stories I have heard of a cat jumping on a safari vehicle involve cheetahs. Cheetahs like to sit on a hill or termite mound to survey the landscape for prey. Safari trucks could be seen as handy hills. I have seen pictures of cheetahs on the roof or hood of a vehicle. I have never heard that the cheetah took a bite out of a tourist. Remember, people are not on their diet. The guides told me they consider it the fault of the driver if a cheetah jumps on a truck. The driver should not have the vehicle in such close range and should anticipate such a move by watching the cheetah. While it might be the terrifying thrill of a lifetime to find a cheetah sitting beside you, it is not something safari companies want to encourage for obvious reasons.

Having said all this, have there been moments of anxiety for me? Yes, for sure. That moment when Fig and I were so close happened in a millisecond. My finger was on the shutter and I got the shot as I instinctively pulled back into the truck. My heart was hammering. The thrill of being so close to animals I respect overrides my anxiety most of the time. My husband has told me that this attitude of mine worries him.

Betty Maitai, one of the Maasai Mara’s first female guides, and her spotter, Gladys Kisemeio, are an extraordinary team. The first time I climbed into their truck Betty asked what we’d like to see that afternoon. I tell myself be open to expectation, not attached to expectation. As far as I could see the area was empty. Betty pointed to a distant hill. “There’s a lion over there,” she said calmly, as she put the truck in gear and headed in the direction she’d pointed to. I looked. I did not see the lion. Finally, a yellow dot came into view—a lion! The ground was wet and slick with mud; Betty had to be careful we didn’t get stuck as we headed off road through the tall grass towards a mound where a young male lion was lounging.

Betty drove closer, and closer, and c l o s e r. Yes, I did have that thought that he could leap easily from his perch right into my lap. Betty remained cool as she pulled up alongside Mr. King of the Beasts. I caught the eyes of my friend behind me as they grew twice their normal size. We held our breaths—the lion ignored us and looked off into the distance (as you can see in this video)..

I raised my camera—what an opportunity.

Betty recognized this lion. He was about 2 years old and beginning to go “on walkabouts” from his pride. A male lion’s life is not easy. He is forced out of the pride around age 3 and becomes a nomad or joins a couple of other males in the hope of taking over another pride. This young prince had a lined face that gave him a grumpy look. Based on the scars on his nose he looked like he’d been in more than one fight. I was so close I was able to study his face, his huge paws and noble profile.

Another truck spotted us and headed our way following our tracks until they were right behind us—stuck in the mud. Anxiety returned as the driver revved the truck and the wheels sank deeper. The lion looked mildly interested... My head swivelled from Betty to the lion to the truck on our bumper. Betty broke rule #2—she opened her door on the far side and slowly slipped out of the truck.

“Betty! Get back in the truck!” I squeaked in a frantic whisper. We were all frozen to our seats. Head lowered, she slipped alongside the truck and retrieved a tow strap from the back of our vehicle. I was trying my best to stretch my peripheral vision 180 degrees from lion on the right to truck on the left. Betty slipped the strap over the tow hook and crept back to her seat. She closed her door and started the engine. The lion’s head snapped up, then he bolted up the hill, his tail between his legs.

Betty hauled the other truck out of the mud, retrieved the tow strap, and smiling to herself headed off to see what else she could find for us. Breaking the tension of the moment, we broke a rule too and whooped and cheered for Betty Maitai, Wonder Woman of the Mara! I came away with some great portraits of the lion, belief that maybe, just maybe, lions were afraid of people, and huge respect for Betty.

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