A big bad African bird

I hope you’re having a better hair day than this guy!


This crazy-looking fellow, which stands over 3 feet high, is a secretary bird. I think it looks like it should be hanging out with dragons and unicorns in a mystical world rather than here on the African plains, but luckily, Mother Nature didn’t ask me.


I’ve heard a few different versions of the origin of this bird’s name. First, the feathers sticking willy-nilly out of its head look like pens stuck behind a secretary’s ear. Along similar (albeit slightly more sexist) lines, I’ve also heard that - like a secretary – the bird has nice legs.

The third explanation for the name is less entertaining, but more historically accurate. It seems that "secretary" is actually derived from the Arabic word saqr-et-tair, meaning "hunter-bird." True to its title, this bird is a formidable predator, and is one of only two birds in the world that hunt exclusively on foot. These guys are especially skilled at hunting snakes. Their crazy crown of feathers is both a threat display and a distraction for angry serpents, and their legs have scales that act as armor against snakebites. In fact, in rural areas secretary birds are often taken as pets to keep the land snake-free…they’re an avian analog of barn cats.

Their hunting method is really fascinating to watch (but then again, I have a thing for peculiar predators). With those long, lovely legs, a secretary bird stamps the ground to flush potential victims out of their hiding places. Once the prey is in sight, they either stomp on it, rendering it unconscious - then eat it alive - or peck it to death with their strong, sharp beaks. And you thought hyenas were brutal!

New year, new faces

I know you were all waiting with bated breath, so here's the update...

Its official - Moss (AKA Big Fat Bad-Eyed Bear) has two new babies.


Because of their mother's rather commanding presence, I thought these kids need some real names. So, welcome little Che Guevara and Malcolm X to the Mara! These teeny ones may not be ready to launch their own political revolutions yet, but give them time.

Welcome to Shompole

We found a dead Waterbuck, an animal about the size of a horse, out in the bush. Really we didn’t find it Hyena 105 found it. She had eaten a hole about a foot and a half wide out of well let’s say the softest and most easily accessible part of a dead animal. (I’ll let you figure that one out.) Other than that our new corpse was in good shape. I backed the Landcruiser up to it, we wrapped some steel cable around the front legs and neck, and away we went. It was one of those, “if only Mom could see me now” kind of moments. Or maybe one of those, “how did I get to this?” kind of moments.

Why drag a large dead animal back to the camp you say? Why for bait of course. Aaron has been using dead fish up until now and these last couple days it has just not been cutting it. The fish is left in a bucket in the sun to fester and smellify (a word meaning to increase greatly in scent, look it up) for a few days and then it’s ready to be used as bait. You would think a stinking pile of dead fish would really entice a striped hyena into our trap, but we haven’t had any luck with it.

Trapping striped hyenas is relatively simple in theory. You have a leg trap (imagine those big bear traps with the spike teeth that you see in cartoons) that is actually lined with rubber so the hyena is not harmed. Two steel bands, one on each side, bend into a V form the spring tension needed to close the trap. A small clip that holds the jaws open notches into a circular pressure switch in the center which when appropriately weighted (i.e. stepped on) will release said clip causing rubber lined jaws to snap shut.

Through the use of radio tracking, identification of tracks, motion sensor camera traps, and some luck you get an idea of just where you might catch a hyena. Aaron had three different places in mind. We used bushes and fallen trees to create a sort of V shaped cul-de-sac. The bait goes at the top of the V and at the narrowest point is where we place the trap. This forces the hyena to step right in this narrow area where the trap is buried. Some artful placing of branches, leaves, grass, and sticks is required to make the trap area even more appetizing for a prospective hyena’s foot placement. Aaron often spends an excruciating amount of time delicately dribbling leaves around the trap, pausing, looking longingly at the trap, only to frown and move some grass around until it’s perfect. He finishes it off with a fake hyena footprint right in the center of the pressure switch. A subtle art.

Even with all the careful planning of placement and design my first few days of trapping were unsuccessful. On trapping nights we go out at 4:30 or so to bait and place the traps, hopefully finishing around 6:30 as the sun begins to set. At 11:30 or 12:00 you check the traps and then again at 5:30AM. This of course creates a major dent in your nights sleep. On the first night out of nine of our traps only one had been sprung. Pulling up in the car we could see the bushes thrashing and the two reflected eyes of some unknown creature. Approaching on foot Aaron tells me this animal is a Civet. A Civet is an animal about the size of a medium dog or maybe an enormous raccoon. It is mostly black with a leopard print body and thick shaggy mane of black hair running from head to tail. It is thrashing madly, spitting, yowling, and generally looking very unhappy and threatening.

Aaron grabs a blanket out of the back of the car. “I’m gonna throw the blanket over it, hold it down, and then we’ll switch places,” he says.

“Ok,” I say. Of course I’m thinking yeah freaking right I’m going to put my hands on that obviously dangerous animal.

After a few attempts Aaron manages to pin down the civet. We switch and I can feel its pulse through the blanket. It is actually quite calm. Like a parrot in a cage the blanket seems to have soothed it into a confused sleepy state. Aaron releases the trap and the Civet’s foot is free. We remove the blanket and it resumes its thrashing and spitting, gives us one last dirty look, and takes off into the dark. Not a hyena but exciting just the same.

The next few nights were just as unsuccessful. The second night we caught a Genet a small cat/weasel-like creature that is just cute as the dickens. It was much calmer than the Civet. It had managed to trigger the trap (only meant for something as heavy as a striped hyena) by placing two of its legs on the trigger at the same time. I was sad to see that it had cut itself trying to escape, as its paws were caught in the far edges of the trap where there is no safety rubber. Luckily no bones were broken and after spraying its wounds with antiseptic spray we sent it on its way.

The last night of trapping was heralded by a great thunderstorm. Shompole is very dry and dusty, it rarely rains, so it was all the more surprising when on the horizon an enormous cloud could be seen. Violent winds preceded the storm and the dust was kicked up in clouds. It was a very dramatic scene, the world seemed lost in turmoil. The storm like all weather here came from the east and blew to the west. Unfortunately our path took us to the west where our three sets of traps lay in wait. As we drove we were enveloped in our own dust cloud, unable to see or breathe. Speeding up did little to help as the dust would only catch up when you slowed again. When we finally got to the acacia forest, where we could find some respite from the wind, I found little comfort. My entire body was covered in about a half inch of dust. My nostrils were fully saturated and my hair successfully full. A very unpleasant feeling.

Of course the rain came. And of course it came after we had set the traps. This meant that we had to make a decision. If the rain continued to increase it meant that we would be unable to return to the traps later because the roads would be washed out. However, if it ceased we would be fine. We decided to close them and then… of course… it stopped raining.

So you can see it’s not hard to imagine (or maybe it is) just how excited we were to find some delicious new bait in the form of a dead waterbuck. Tomorrow we will start trapping again in hopes of catching and collaring a new hyena. Our new GPS collars will enable us to track the animals via satellite if only we can catch one.

Hi my name is Joey and welcome to Shompole, Kenya where we attempt on a daily basis to study the striped hyena…

Those things can come out of nowhere ... Puzzle #3

About 3 weeks ago I was preparing to leave for evening obs when Ben calmly walked up and asked if I wanted to see something. I said sure without asking what it was because Ben is great at finding cool animals and birds to look at. We walked a few paces up the driveway and he pointed to the a tree. I stared for a few seconds and spotted a ....

See if you can find what it was.

The last post had a baby Thompson's gazelle hidden on the right side of the picture. About two months ago there were hundreds of these around the Mara. They lay completely still in the grass to avoid being noticed by predators, like hyenas. They remain so well-hidden and calm that we almost drove over a few, but always managed to avoid them at the last minute.

Playing rough

The word "play" conjures all all sorts of warm childhood memories...playing tag, playing dress-up, and playing board games. However, among hyenas, play is a bit more of a contact sport. It helps individuals strengthen social bonds, enforce the dominance heirarchy, and learn combat skills. While play usually starts out innocently enough, it often ends up looking quite painful to one of the participants.

Here's Kneesocks, an adult female, playing a bit too rough with a cub named Bellagio. All morning long, she was having tons of fun picking cubs up by their legs and flipping them over. The cubs seemed less enthralled with this game than Kneesocks did.


Among siblings, there's a very fine line between harmless play and painful rivalry. Here, Conspiracy is sandwiched between his mom, who is trying to give him a bath, and his dominant brother Chaos, who is about to give his ear a nasty bite.

Christmas dinner in the Mara

Vegetarians, turn back now. Although, since you’re reading a carnivore blog, I’m assuming you have no objection to – or even get some gratification out of – the consumption of large amounts of meat.

Forget ham, turkey, and leg of lamb…the Maasai celebrate with nyama choma. It literally means “roast meat,” and throughout their history, the Maasai have perfected this delicacy. Here’s how it happens.

Fresh meat – ours was goat, although beef is also traditional – is loaded onto spits, kind of like a giant shishkabobs. The spits are stuck into the ground and bent over a fire. As the meat roasts, the spits are turned so that all the meat is cooked to perfection…the outside is crisp and deliciously caramelized, and the inside is juicy and perfectly tender.


Once it’s done, the spit is removed from the fire and stuck in the ground, right in front of you. It’s cut off the bone with a panga (Maasai machete), and eaten straightaway. No need for plates, silverware, or extra seasoning. Napkins, while absent from our feast, are definitely a plus.


Since there’s no way anyone can actually consume this much goat in one sitting, the leftovers are wrapped up in leaves and taken home. Much more environmentally friendly than Styrofoam or aluminum foil! Just remember to keep your Maasai doggie-bag safely tucked away to avoid losing your leftovers to hungry hyenas.


Simple, traditional, delicious.

Hope your holidays are as happy – and scrumptious – as mine!

Jingle Bells

On December 24th I set out for Nairobi to meet a friend that was arriving from the U.S. I woke up at 4:30am and by 5:30am Steven had flagged the matatu (bus) down for me. We hopped across the river and something fairly large made splash. Neither of us saw it, probably just a mudfish... The place we crossed the river was pretty close to where they hyenas and lions had holiday zebra feast.

The matatu was crowded, so I was happy to get a seat. It was still dark and the only thing I could see was the silhouette of the r'ungu carried by the Maasai men. The r'ungu is basically a club that I commonly refer to as a "head knocker." Most Maasai men carry these and they are easily capable of crushing the skull of an attacking animal. The first leg of my trip went extremely well, a little too well maybe, and I was in Narok by 8:30am.

I then waited about an hour for the next matatu that would take me to Nairobi. This matatu was not a bus, but a small van that crams in 14 people for a ride that should take a little over two hours. These vans are the one of the primary methods for people to get around in Kenya, and given that it was the day before Christmas it was a busy day for public transportation. I have mentioned before that the roads in Kenya are not well maintained, so it is a bumpy ride. It has also been very dry the past two weeks, adding blinding dust to the rickety ride. After the driver got in the vehicle, it took him approximately 1.5 seconds to honk at his first pedestrian. A few more minutes to whip out his cell phone. If there was an olympic sport for honking a horn, these drivers would sweep the gold medals without a doubt. I think some of them have their hands on the horn more often than the wheel.

At one point we were bouncing along a dusty road and the CD the driver had in started playing "Jingle Bells." This cracked me up, since I grew up in the great state of Minnesota where I am used to having snow and it being very cold when Jingle Bells in playing. Today, I had 90 degrees and dust tornadoes instead. I bounced along as the singer rang out "in a one horse open sleigh" and I couldn't help but grin and take a bit of video of the road. The video is about 45 seconds, but if you listen closely, you can catch the holiday spirit of the road without getting carsick in just a few seconds. (Note: due to limited badwidth in the Mara, we are currently unable to upload the video. We hope to have this video inserted here in the near future).

Before reaching Narok the matatu must drive along the treacherous road running up the side of the escarpment, basically a road along a cliff. The guard rail has been ripped apart in many places where unlucky travelers have plunged over the edge. The matatu drivers are not known for being cautious and routinely pass vehicles on blind curves and hills, so it makes for an exciting ride to say the least. That was the least of my worries on this day.

About half-way up the escarpment we were pulled over at a police checkpoint. The unfriendly policeman directed us off the road into one of the few spots to pull off on the road. After we pulled off the road, a flood of other matatus began spilling into the area. Apparently, the brains of the police force had decided today was a good day to check all the matatus to see if they had a functioning speed governor. Matatus are supposed to have a speed governor that limits the top speed of the vehicle to 80 kilometers per hour (kph). Earlier in the ride my matatu hit 140 kph, so I knew our vehicle was going to fail the test.

The driver disappeared for while and while he was away a random guy stopped by and told us to move the car. A young kid quickly jumped in, started the car and tried to move it. One problem with his plan, I am sure he had never driven a car before. First, he tried to drive it when it was in neutral. No dice. Then he managed to get in into third gear and stall the van again. No dice. Then he just held the clutch in and let it roll backwards until he was evicted by a few of the passengers.

The driver came back after a while and began peeling his insurance sticker off the window and admitted to me he would not pass the inspection. I guess he figured the fine for not having insurance was better than the fine for not having a speed governor. A minute later I saw him shaking hands with one of the police officers and I knew something shady was going on. A few minutes later he was back and drove the car to the back of the crowd. The police officer ordered us to go out front and then shut the gate behind us. I knew it was going to be a long time before that van was going anywhere.

By this point it had already been an hour delay for all the people that earlier in the day were excited to see their family and friends for Christmas. The inspectors finally showed up, both of them. I have no idea why they pulled over more than 50 vehicles, then had only two inspectors that arrived an hour after pulling people over. Then I remembered the first rule of the Mara: "Don't apply logic." We were not in the Mara, but the rule is pretty general and can be applied throughout most of Kenya.

After about 15 minutes of wandering aimlessly, the inspectors decided they could now inspect a few cars. To do this, they jacked up one of the back wheels. I will stress, they only jacked up ONE of the back wheels! Then they had the driver floor it to see if the vehicle would shut off at 80 kph. Needless to say, most of the vehicles did not. I saw people standing in front and behind of vehicles with one wheel jacked up and the driver pushing the gas pedal to the floor. A disaster waiting to happen.

The other passengers were very nice to me and kept me posted on what was going on, since my swahili is still not very functional. After about two hours of this nonsense, a student that was on my matatu signaled for me to walk back to the van and get a partial refund. I did this and then followed a few of my fellow travelers to the highway. I had been told hitchhiking along this highway was not allowed, but so is running red lights in Nairobi and everybody does that. My new friend led the way, walking up the escarpment towards Nairobi.

After about 15 minutes of walking we flagged down a bus and we jumped in while the bus was still rolling. The bus had what I believe was Christmas music blasting and was in a festive mood! I decided to go for my second snickers bar and finish my second coke, all of the food I had for the day so far. A couple hours taking care of business downtown, then another half hour bus ride, some food, and another half hour bus ride and I was at my final destination.

As much of a sweaty, cramped, strange day it was, I had fun. There is no better way to get to know a place that take public transportation. Jingle all the way!

Moss: the hyena we hate to love

Yes, I constantly wax poetic about how adorable and charming our hyenas are. However, I’ll admit that they aren’t all beauty queens. Moss is arguably the least attractive hyena I’ve ever seen. Her fur is constantly dirty and matted, she has a chronic drooling problem, and she’s blind in one eye. In a word, she’s repulsive.


But, as they say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. For some reason, the boys love Moss…she’s constantly being courted by at least one admiring male, if not a gaggle of three or four. Even the females in the clan fawn over her, ingratiating themselves at every opportunity. Between her undeniable popularity and her unforgettable appearance, there’s just something very intriguing about Moss.

If you’ve been reading our blog since the summer, you’ll remember that Moss
lost a young cub back in July. Well, I’m thrilled to report that Moss is now guarding a natal den! Apparently all that attention from the clan’s males has paid off, and she’s getting another shot at motherhood.


Let's just hope that these kids inherit their father’s looks.

Ever have lions, hyenas and leopards with your cornflakes?

I woke up at 4am today to the sound of multiple lions roaring. Lions roaring at night is pretty common, but these sounded as if they close enough to be looking in my window. The roaring continued off and on for about 30 minutes, then a chorus of hyenas whooping broke out and was quickly answered by more lions roaring. The never-ending battle between lions and hyenas was on in full force this morning!

Lesingo, our fearless askari (night watchman) told us the lions had killed a zebra about 200m from camp. We have two askari in camp, Steven and Lesingo, and I am amazed that these guys walk around camp at night chasing lions and elephants away carrying only a flashlight and a spear. We certainly don't want to kill any of the animals that wander into camp, so these guys keep the animals at bay without ever actually using the spear. Experience and the ability to stay calm go a long way in the bush, not that I would consider myself to have either of those compared to Steven and Lesingo.

Ben and I got in the car and headed out to investigate. We had driven about 50 meters when we saw a hyena lope across our driveway. We then drove around in the bushes and saw 5 more hyenas and 4 lions. Even the lions were running around this morning. This is unusual, because normally the only thing lions do is lay around, just like a lazy house cat. We continued circling the bushes for a few minutes and then found the whole pride.

There were 4-5 adult lioness, 3 young males and 4-5 lion cubs, 12 lions total. The 3 young males were getting pretty big, but not large enough to have their own pride yet. I suspect they will soon be kicked out of the pride by their fathers. Such is life in the Mara.

An hour later we found an even more rare occurance. For the first time since I arrived this year I saw a leopard (Sorry you missed it Leslie). It was up in a tree, just waking up from a nap. It stood up on the branch, arched its back to stretch and then quickly disappeared into the bushes. Leopards are not that uncommon in the Mara, but seeing one is uncommon and I think they are the most striking animal out here. They are very stealthy, active mostly at night and spend most of their time in bushes and trees. Don't be surprised to see a leopard in one of the future "Those things can come out of nowhere..." blog entries.

Ok, so I didn't have cornflakes today, but all of this occured before 7:05am today. How is that for a morning commute?

Those things can come out of nowhere ... Puzzle #2

For those of you that posted comments on the first picture in the series, there were three elephants in the first picture. There was a little one hiding in the bushes. In this group there were probably 8-10 elephants that were sneaking in and out of the bushes. I hope you can visualize a minute before I snapped this picture, when the huge elephant with the tusks was completely hidden in the bushes!

Here is the next picture.

Hint: Things are often hidden in the bushes, but sometimes things are hidden in Plainview.