Sorry, No Happy Ending

I have touched and held various kinds of wild, or at least ‘unconventional’, animals during my adventures around South Africa.

I was hugged by an ostrich. I played with lion cubs who thought I was a chew toy. I spent an hour with cheetahs. I got to pet them and feel their raspy tongues when they licked me. I played with a mischievous meerkat. I gingerly rubbed my hand over an African python that wasn’t big enough to swallow me, and I touched a crocodile while it wasn’t looking.

None of these experiences compare to holding a critically injured Impala for almost an hour while waiting for someone to come and help the poor animal.

We were visiting a game farm that offered mountain bike trails that wound through the bushveld, promising an assortment of game to be viewed. Gav, Justin, and I were very keen to explore as the MTB bug had bitten (and if you read my previous blog, you will remember that I tried to bite back, but I failed, and I falled).

We set out from our caravan at about three in the afternoon. The game farm has several fenced-off areas as they also keep cattle, so we had to stop twice to open up and go through some gates. As we approached the third and final gate that would give us access to the actual game reserve, we saw a group of male Impalas throwing themselves against the fence in an attempt to get to the other side.

For those of you who are not familiar with South African wildlife, an Impala is a small antelope that can jump very high. They are very common antelope, we see dozens of them every time we go to the bush. In Afrikaans an Impala is called a Rooibok, which means ‘red buck’. They are also referred to as the McDonald’s buck because of the “M” pattern on their rump and the fact that you see one around every corner.

Back to my story…

The buck were unable to jump over the fence as it was erected high enough to stop them, but they were trying very hard, and in their vain attempts they were hurting themselves. We decided not to go through the gate, instead we cycled towards the buck, hoping to chase them back into the bush. It was so horrible to see these animals continuously and mindlessly throwing themselves against the fence. The wire kept catapulting them back as it recoiled against their barrage. Finally, we were close enough for them to notice us, and they ran away into the shrubby, thorny bushveld until we couldn’t see them.

We were just about to turn back to the gate when, a few hundred meters in front of us, we heard a crash! and we saw another Impala buck trying to jump over the gate at the other end of the enclosure. We watched in horror as he charged at the gate, leaped into the air, and hit it with such force that the fence reverberated. He then fell to the ground. We rode towards him as fast as we could, and as we got nearer, we saw that he was struggling to stand.

We cautiously approached the struggling animal because we were sure he would spring up at any moment. We didn’t want to get in the way of him and his horns. He couldn’t get up, though. We knelt beside him and held him still to prevent him from hurting himself further. I held tightly onto one of his horns and rested my hand on his head; Justin held his body. Gavin rode back to the main office at the campsite to find someone to help.

The poor Impala had done a lot of damage to himself. He had completely skinned the top of his muzzle right up to his forehead, and his nose was bleeding. He kept struggling, scraping his front legs on the ground in his attempt to stand, and that’s when I noticed that his back legs weren’t moving.

I cried while I tried to soothe the frightened creature and wished with ALL my heart that I could speak ‘animal’ and get him to understand that we were trying to help him. I told him he had really hurt himself and he needed to lie still because struggling would only make it worse. His huge, soft, brown eyes with a delicate line of lashes just gazed at me incomprehensibly.

Justin and I could hear his heart beating.

After a while, Gavin came back … alone. He told us that the owner said we must just leave the buck, he’ll come “sort it out” later.

When Justin and I let go of the Impala to see what would happen, he kicked and lashed about so much with his front legs that he was beginning to turn around on the ground. I saw that if he continued like this, not only would he be extremely confused and stressed, but soon, his horns would get stuck in the fence wire. Justin and I got down on our knees and held him still again. I told Gav that I thought the Impala had broken its back, and I just couldn’t leave it alone until someone came to help. We kept talking soothingly, trying to calm the poor thing. Our legs started cramping and going to sleep because of our posture, but every time we tried to re-adjust our position, the Impala would get a fright and start to struggle again. Meanwhile, Gavin rode back to camp to update the farmer.

Eventually, I saw Gavin cycling towards us again. When he reached us, he said the farmer was on his way and that if the buck had broken its back, they would have to shoot it. I cried so much my tears fell on the poor little buck’s cheek; every fairy tale I’d ever heard came rushing into my mind, and I thought desperately, “Why can’t my tears be magic and heal this dear creature?”

Within minutes of Gavin reaching us, I saw a white bakkie heading our way. The man in the car thanked Justin and me for staying with the buck and encouraged us to continue cycling as there was a large game farm to explore. I didn’t feel like riding. I wouldn’t have seen much anyway – I was crying too much. I absently followed Gavin and Justin back to the caravan.

Later that evening, while we were sitting around the campfire, we chatted to a few of the young game wardens. They told us that after the incident, the farmer had given them instructions to hang feed bags from the fence to discourage the other Impala from jumping against it. I hope that helps.

As old as I am, the first person I phoned after the sad episode was my mom. Her words were very encouraging and just what I needed to hear, “You were meant to be there to comfort that buck.”

The first three words of this blog read: “I have touched…”
Now, I can honestly say, “I have touched, and I have been touched.”

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