There were a few years of work at Intona where we achieved some good scientific results. We managed to immunise cattle against theileriosis, the main cattle killer in the region and this resulted in keeping animals under relaxed tick control regimens as opposed to applying toxic chemicals two times per week as it was formerly done!

 

The trials required hard work not only for Alan and me but for the herdsmen that had the day to day responsibility of keeping activities going all the time. Although the work was demanding, we also found time for entertainment. We often went to the Migori River to try our luck at fishing although neither the Maasai nor the Kikuyu (or me) like to eat fish so we maintained a strict catch and release approach. In “Memories – A fishing trip” I described the most dramatic of these fishing outings but there were many others.

We also had some other fun that included the already described spear throwing (Javelin throwing), game driving and also walking around the farm. A great tour was the drive towards the back of Intona where you would meet the Migori river. This was one of the boundaries of the ranch. In that general area a large herd of buffalo grazed in the meadows before getting into the riverine woodlands to spend the night.

This herd was resident in the ranch and, to my amazement and concern, the cattle herd would intermingle with them while grazing! This buffalo herd did not show any aggressive behaviour towards our animals or the keepers, although the latter paid them great respect and kept a wide berth. When it was time for the cattle to start their return walk to the safety of the kraal/boma they would separate from the buffalo and start their walk following the loud whistling of the herdsmen.

By the river it was always enjoyable to spot the silvery-cheeked hornbills, large birds with large bony beaks flying over the river returning to their sleeping tree after foraging in the forest. The Transmara also had a special bird called the African blue flycatcher (Elminia longicauda), greyish below but bright blue on its dorsal part, including its head that has a small crest. Watching it its colour fluctuates with the light between blue and cyan, a magnificent sight. It also has the habit of constantly fanning its tail in a very attractive fashion. Although a common resident at Intona, it was a rare bird, always worth finding.

Walking about would take a purpose when Robin was around! He and Janet, his late wife, were very keen in collecting orchids from the tree islands. Because of the old and aggressive male buffalo that lurked inside the tree islands this was a rather risky endeavour, as we needed to enter the forest in search of the plants as well as climbing the trees to get them. Luckily, one of the young herders would do that for us!

When Joe learnt that we were going to do this, he designated his gardener as our “angel guardian” and ordered him to march with us carrying a fire siren to scare the buffalo away from the places we would visit. I always felt sorry for the poor man, as the contraption was a rather large metal frame with the siren mounted on it, looking like a large hand-cranked blacksmith’s bellows.

It was immediately apparent that the gardener knew what he was doing the moment he started turning its large handle. The pneumatic siren would then respond gradually with a grave sound that, after the machine gained momentum and the handle increased its speed, will get into a full loud siren, just like the old fire engines used to do before the new more ‘innovative” multi-tone electronic ones were introduced.

Luckily, we did not find buffalo during the few times we pursued this rather hazardous sport with a rather meagre floral reward. However, I still remember my neck hairs standing up when we heard crashing noises coming from the wooded islands preceding the sudden appearance of animals scared to death! In particular the very scared warthogs would rush out of their siesta places or burrows. A particularly hairy encounter took place when a large male came straight at us luckily veering off at the last second. A very lucky escape as these animals carry large tusks and can produce severe injuries.

Intona also hosted smaller animals and these were usually found at night. Although mongooses and hyenas were usually seen, there were others like genets, bush babies and African hares among others. To see the hares dazzled at the car lights reminded me that in Uruguay we would shoot them or even catch them while they remained stunned. We would later pickle them and enjoy their tasty meat. So, I decided that night “hare-catching” was worth a try.

I then managed to sell the idea to my companions, the herdsmen, as a different (and potentially tasty) way of spending our free time! “If we drive out after dinner, we may be able to kill a few hares” I said to my herdsmen and I added “The trick is that you dazzle them with the car lights and then you get out of the vehicle and walk slowly and silently in the dark towards them until you get close enough to grab them”. I assured them that they would be good eating as well!

The idea was accepted but the reply included that we should take one of the Maasai herdsmen as he would be the only one capable of finding the way back to camp after a while driving cross-country on the ranch! So we did and that is how Thomas also came on that venture as well as the fishing trip above.

Eventually the team assembled a moonless Saturday evening and we set off armed with “rungus“[1] to stun the unlucky hares. We started after dinner and drove slowly searching for either the hares themselves or eyes in the darkness. It was soon apparent that looking for “eyes” was a fruitless exercise as the latter belonged to a number of different animals but no hares were detected.

Like this we bumped into topis, zebras, impalas, hyenas and white-tailed mongooses, among other beasts. It was clear that we would have to bump into them and hope that they would be dazzled by our headlamps!

After a while, a suitable hare was spotted and eventually it stopped its run and looked at us. The “hare-catchers” jumped out as planned while I kept the car with the beam pointed at the hare. Despite our efforts, the hare must have caught movements in the dark and soon took off. The empty-handed catchers returned to the car and we continued our search until another hare was dazzled and off they jumped again. This time one of them went too close to the beam and his shadow interfered with the hare that also took off.

The hunt was proving more difficult than I anticipated so I decided to join the hunters for the next hare. It did not take too long to appear. I left the car running with the lights on and the four of us, two from each side, started stalking the prospective victim. I had my eyes on the hare so, when I heard a shout that I did not understand I was surprised and even more so when Mark, one of the hunters, rushed by me screaming “buffalo!, buffalo!” I did not wait and rushed to the car as fast as I could.

Thomas, the first to see the buffalo and responsible for the first screams, beat us to the car by a good margin and, luckily managed to open the back door fast, in time for all of us to jump in seconds later, ending up in a pile of hard-breathing bodies, still with the door open. Gradually we managed to talk and we all burst out laughing, releasing our fear while Mark explained that they have bumped on a few buffalo that, luckily and equally scared, run away!

I never saw anything and, as soon as we were able to move, we unanimously decided to abandon our hare chasing and return to the camp under Thomas’ guidance that, despite the encounter, still retained his bearings! It was when I turned the car around that the buffalo came to view. It was no other than the resident herd and we were lucky that we did not encounter the few large males that were also in the ranch.

The unanimous comments of the car occupants was that they were all in favour of continuing with their “hareless” diet of ugale (white maize polenta) and cabbage!

 

[1] In Ki-Swahili, a wooden club with a thick end, similar to the knobkerrie of South Africa.