It had rained very heavily the afternoon before and we had erected our tent in the rain, slightly anxious that the downpour might not stop before dark. Bare topped and soon drenched the skin, we used several towels to mop the inside of the tent. The thunderstorms had performed their wild dance across the hills of the Congo and had cleared the air. In the soft light of a new day, the ‘Snows of the Nile’ peeked very briefly from huge thunderheads that still threatened and in the foreground the Kazinga channel glistened, a silver ribbon between Lakes George and Edward. Hippos snorted noisily from Lake Chibwera several hundred metres away and looking directly into the new sunrise, thousands of pink flamingos danced across Lake Nsenyi.
I could not think of a more enchanting site for a tented camp. Brad and I wandered along the ridge marking sites for the new Adrift tented camp, ecstatic at the possibilities. Adrift have signed a concession agreement with Uganda Wildlife Authority to build a permanent tented camp on a ridge between two stunning crater lakes and we were working on the site plan. We commented on a dozen or so Uganda Kob grazing nonchalantly at the base of the hill not more than one hundred metres from where we stood. As I pressed the screen to mark the waypoint on my GPS, a shrill alarm whistle erupted from the grazing kobs and they scattered, running away from us. I spilt some coffee and looked up to notice one of the kobs was entrapped by what I initially thought to be a poachers snare. It had been widely discussed that our planned presence at Lake Chibwera would reduce small-time ‘bush-meat’ poaching.
Brad and I both looked in astonishment, sympathising with the kob’s predicament and wondering what on earth had ‘snared’ the kob. A substantial flash of white underbelly and Brad said ‘…it’s a python’. I spilt the rest of my coffee, ran along the ridge line to get Arch and Bay and witness one of Africa’s most remarkable hunters finish the job. There was no way the big snake was letting go despite the powerful kicks of both rear legs, and the kob bleated for no more than ninety seconds before she was asphyxiated to death.
The python had struck from a small clump of long grass, probably tempted from the swamps of Lake Nsyeni by the wet grass and moist conditions. The initial strike had given the giant Central African Rock Python, a firm grip of both rear legs of the kob (they usually go for the head or neck). Renown for their vicious attacks, this fortunately keeps them in little demand for the western pet trade but makes them a significant predator of the kob, Uganda’s most prolific medium-sized antelope. We estimate that the mighty serpent weighed over 100kgs and measured about 3.5 metres in length (unconfirmed reports suggest they may get as large as 7.5 metres in length!). While I may not see this again for some time, the remotest possibility of witnessing another python attack are a huge incentive to go back to our Chibwera site and begin work on that tented camp. We hope to have most of the camp completed by the end of this year so the occupants of tent no.7 can sip chilled gin and tonic in comfort while they wait for a repeat performance.
