The queen is dead.

On the night of 12 April, 2011, the alpha female of the Talek West clan, Murphy, was killed near the den, along with her constant male escort, Fozzie. Murphy had been alpha female since her mother, Bracket Shoulder, died on May 29, 1999.

At that time, Murphy was 3 years old, and the throne by rights should have passed to her younger sister, Carson; that is, spotted hyenas exhibit a monkey-like pattern of youngest ascendancy, in which the youngest offspring comes to outrank its older sibs when the mother takes its side in disputes with the older offspring. However, Carson was only 14 months old when Murphy died, and she was clearly unable to hold her own against Murphy’s greater size and strength without help from her mom. Murphy has reigned unchallenged since then. But on 12 April 2011, it appears that Murphy and Fozzie were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and they paid a terrible price.

The Talek West hyenas had been denning at what we call the Plantation Den, which is situated along the north side of the Talek River, inside a small fenced tree plantation managed by local Masai. The Masai living closest to the den reported that lions had killed a zebra that night in the riverbed near the den, and the Masai heard lots of hyena vocalizations, suggesting that the lions and hyenas had engaged in a major fight. The fight might have been over the zebra carcass, or the hyenas may simply have been nervous to have so many lions so close to their den. But in any case Murphy and Fozzie were found dead inside the plantation fence the following morning, each having sustained multiple puncture and slash wounds.

Being somewhat jaded after working here for many years, I initially assumed that Murphy and Fozzie might actually have been killed by local Masai; after all, we have lost multiple other Talek hyenas to spearing by local people inside that same plantation fence over the years. However, the day after Murphy and Fozzie died, my research assistant Brian Lunardi sent our askaris to make inquiries of the Masai who lived nearest the plantation, and the askaris came away from those interviews convinced that lions were the true culprits. Furthermore the pattern of wounding on the bodies of the dead hyenas was most consistent with lion-induced mortality. It is certainly easy to imagine how lions might corner hyenas against the fence, and kill them there. As Murphy and Fozzie were inseparable in recent years, it came as no surprise to find their bodies only 30 meters apart from one another.

During the 12 years of her reign as alpha female, Murphy gave birth to many offspring, all named after gods and goddesses. Her sons (Bacchus, Hermes and many others) have all dispersed to neighboring clans. But surviving her in the Talek West clan are her adult daughters Artemis, Adonis, Morpheus, Pan, Helios, Loki and Juno. When she died, Murphy left a 3-month old cub at the den, but that cub has already vanished. One of Murphy’s youngest adult twin daughters, Loki and Juno, should now inherit the throne. As Juno was the dominant cub within that twin litter, we expect she will become the new alpha female, but we have not yet seen the two sisters interact aggressively since Murphy died, so we don’t know yet what will happen. But in any case, we hope the new queen has a long and successful reign as alpha female.

Welcome to the world!

Tracy and Brian and I were driving home from a foray this morning into the territory of the Mara River clan, when we stumbled upon a female giraffe standing out in the middle of a hug tall-grass plain all by herself. Or so we thought until we noticed a wee head with huge ears poking out of the grass at her feet. This female giraffe had just given birth a couple of minutes earlier; the afterbirth was still emerging, the baby was coated in amniotic fluid, and it couldn't yet stand up. The mother kept scanning the horizon as though on the lookout for potential danger to her newborn. She repeatedly switched between scanning and nudging her infant as though to encourage it to get up. As occurs in many species of mammals, it appeared that this female had given birth at a place and time of day when her baby would face the fewest risks. Although the Mara is teeming with large carnivores that would happily take advantage of a vulnerable infant like this one, none were about on this plain at 9:30 this morning.

We were all thrilled and fascinated to be so privileged as to witness this initial interaction of a newborn giraffe with its world, so we stuck around and watched for awhile. The baby tried several times to stand, but kept tumbling back into the grass at its mother's feet before it finally made it up onto its very wobbly legs. The mother promptly began licking the amniotic fluid off the calf, but that was apparently just too much for it, and the baby tumbled back into the grass again. Finally, the calf made it to its feet again, and this time seemed a bit steadier.

After standing against its mothers' forelegs for a few minutes, the calf began nosing around until, after several minutes, it finally stumbled upon the mothers' teats. It appeared to take several minutes of suckling (quite noisily!) for the mother's milk to start flowing, but when we drove away the calf was happily nursing below it's mother's belly.

31 March 2011...still a bit late

I am not claiming that I experience an acute sense of awareness either to reality or some state of elevated artistic appreciation at 5:45 in the morning, but let me continue.  The past two mornings, though not spectacular to speak of, have stuck in my mind.

March 30^th and we have made it down the High Road and entered Happy Zebra territory.  I am driving a small Suski manual transmission vehicle.  This vehicle has a short enough wheel base to ensure you spend some quality time up off of your seat as you bounce from one destination to the next.  As I drive one hand is dedicated to steering, shifting, and general control of the vehicle.  The other hand and about 95% of my conscious attention floats a full open top mug of coffee with a mix of diligence and desperation.  The road is slicked with just enough mud that the loose tail end of the Susuki does not allow much opportunity for drinking my coffee.  Somewhat predisposed with my commuting frustrations I am abruptly brought out of my sulking condition at the sight of a large yellow mass of fur.  Usually if a large yellowish furry mass if forced upon me in a drowsy state it means my dog, Gunnison, has decided I have slept long enough.  (Ok this may be a stretch...but remotely similar?)

Yesterday the yellowish fur belonged to a male lion sacked out in the middle of the road.  Given little actual choice, but not wishing otherwise, I slowed the vehicle to a stop about 15m from the lion and I think you could say we shared a moment.  You know the kind, similar to most of those drowsy encounters we have around coffee pots and in break rooms in offices and on commutes…a few cups down and complete thoughts begin to form and it looks like we’ll at least make it until lunch.  Soon the sun broke, my coffee was nearing its end and the lion had stood to leave.  As he walked off the road the lion let out bellowing roar (I had no idea you could feel that in your chest when so close by) and I agreed it was time to part…things to do places to be.  But as I drove off I was already anticipating the next time we might share a causal drink; I am hoping an evening beer.

Today it is March 31 and I am the passenger instead of the driver.  Maybe because I was relieved of the responsibility of driving the car, or maybe with this freedom and two available hands I was able to achieve a more caffeinated state by 6:15am…either way I felt more aware today then yesterday.  Cast in the mist evaporating off the river and recently flooded swamp that makes up the lowland part of North territory, I could not see much beyond the hood of our vehicle.  This morning what I saw would impress upon me less than what I would smell.

Carried on the droplets of aerosolized water came an unforgettably familiar smell dating to summers of my past.  Half a world away I could only imagine John Deere, a milk parlor, Holsteins, and a dairy farm tucked neatly into a valley of the Appalachian Mountains.  The catalyst carrying me back to the Reunioun was the smell of bovids; here African Buffalo, and there milk cows but indiscernible to the nose.  Though I enjoyed the comfort of these memories, I wonder…starting the day now as late as 5:30am, have I grown soft with some age.  If I recall milking is underway by 4am.

I had no intention of continuing on with today’s events but then again I also did not invite the lions to camp this evening.  To start evening obs were canceled because of rain.  I began to read “Why Zebras Don’t Get Ulcers” by Dr. Robert Sapolsky.  The book opens with some generalizations about stress responses and how humans and other animals are well adapted to deal with acute stressors.  Sapolsky continues by addressing relationships of the ever more common human (particularly westernized) diseases and stress…the luxury to worry chronically?

This being said, I had begun reading this afternoon/evening as a last resort.  Caught up in complications of my dead computer batter, cloud cover (limiting solar power), and the camp confining rain I was left with nothing but time.  So I began to worry about emailing edits back to co-authors on a manuscript we are writing, the small but ever growing pile of data transcriptions I wanted to type, and a number of other equally trivial personal business matters I wanted to cross off my list.  Not long after reading through Sapolsky’s opening text I was beginning to feel all too familiar with the over activated allostatic compensation which in time would likely be the death of me.  But at last relief.

Sometime after 5pm, what started as distant roars was moving increasingly closer to camp.  Around this time I saw a group of impala out on the breakfast plain (the grass plain which we view from our lab tent) were becoming noticeably aware.  I would soon learn that the worries of these Impala were sufficiently more justified than my own anticipatory anxiety caused by laptop failure. 

Seeing the first two lionesses from where I had been reading I moved to the edge of camp for a better view.  From my new vantage (between 50-100 yds of where the lions were moving up the hill through the thicket) crouched by a bush I saw another lioness.  She also saw me and after making her awareness to my presence known with a stare, she also continued up the hill.  A few other lions passed through and occasionally one would roar but otherwise went by making no disturbance.  As the roaring faded up over the hill I realized my laptop had lost priority.  I think I owe that lioness who took the time to stare at me a ‘thanks’.  On the ground removed from the ‘luxury’ of a safari vehicle I had a glimpse of that adaptive stress response Sapolsky described…acute stressor, HPA cascade, allostatic compensation, and realization that oh yeah it is nice to be alive.  I am not envious of the impala or zebra etc., but I can appreciate the change in perspective that can only come from encounters with the likes of lions and tigers and bears.

As I said the roaring from x number of lionesses and juvenile lions had trailed off into the night and by around 7:00pm so had my thinking of it.  Nearing dinner, Meg the other RA, was making her way down the path to the vehicles.  She was on her way to pick up John and Linda (dog trainers working with the Ranger out post starting a program that would use hounds to track poachers in the Mara).  Little more than halfway down the path, Meg mentions that I ought to come take a look…

                The lions were back, but his time moving silently past the camp shower, the vehicles and a few tents at the east side of camp.  Illuminated by head lamps 7 or so pairs of eye shines made their way through our camp and again out of sight.

                For dinner we enjoyed a fried feast of somosa and french fries in excess, washed down with warm Tusker (an African lager).  John and Linda shared pictures from the day’s poacher camp raid.  Poachers (mostly from Tanzania) in pursuit of bush meat use snares and a variety of other tools to catch and kill hippos, zebras, wildebeest and other animals that happen into their traps.  Snares are made from steel tire cords (the rubber is burnt off) and the poachers use spears for hippos, as well as bows and arrows (tipped with various toxic plant and cobra venom based concoctions).  Once killed bush meat is taken out of sight into a thicket where the poachers camp.  The meat is cut off the animal in haste and laid out on leaves to dry before transport…FDA approved fast food.

Well anyway less I further digress. the five poachers apprehended this day were tipped off by a marauding hyena and the careful observations of John and Linda.  The hyena must have raided the poacher camp and was seen eating a suspiciously symmetrical, geometric chunk of hippo meat.  In short the location of the clepto-hyena lead the rangers to the poacher camp to make the arrest.

                Dinner ended and the night was drawing to a close (it was already 8:30-9:00pm).  Meg left with our visitors to take them home as I carried the dishes to the kitchen tent.  As the car was preparing to leave the driveway, I could not figure out why Moses, Jorgi (camp caretakers) and I were being high beamed in the kitchen tent.

                The group of 7-11 lions had silently re-emerged.  This time they weaved in and out of the trees and on the paths around the kitchen tent.  What struck me was not their numbers or an overt sense of danger or aggression from the lions, but rather their self-invited comfort in our camp.  At times only 10m from the tents they readily helped themselves to drinks of water from our buckets and traveled the trails as it though it was the reason why those paths were maintained.

                I am no lion expert and have yet only seen a small number of lions.  Still compared to the lazy sun bathing kitty cats that have thus been my lion experience, this evenings lions seemed different.  This inclination started when I first met the stare of the lioness initially passing by camp earlier that evening.  My presumption continued to develop finding some confirmation, or at least exaggeration (product of a naïve mind conditioned by experiences in safe woods full of Bambi and bunnies back in the US) in the activity of the lions last seen around the kitchen tent.  Their movements, motivated; their stares, apathetic to our presence; and their proximity, though slightly surreal, undeniable.

Apparently ‘simba’ never comes into tents and knows that people are not food.  Still it has been a long time since the buffet of wildebeest last left the Mara.  It is not unreasonable to think one might get hungry awaiting the migration’s return.

Serena Camp

23 March 2011

4:30 in the morning and fast approaching the time we collectively (I mean both myself and the other RA, Meg) gather at the lab tent.  This morning’s rain plays the tarp overhead like a snare drum.  Maybe the running water and a need to part with a previous day’s worth of chai or, the slight discomfort caused by the humid microclimate that is my tent when it rains; I stepped through the zipper doors to better assess the situation.  The problem with the rain is simply its persistence. 

I guess I should back up and explain the daily routine for an RA in hyena camp.  At large my job is the observation and behavioral data collection of three clans of hyenas.  Each of these clans contains 10-20 adult females (the dominant social rank), a similar number of sub-adults, a similar number of adult males (the subordinate social rank), and any number of cubs.  Using distinct spot patterns and facial/ear scars all of the 130 plus hyenas must be known as an individual.  Because of their crepuscular nature, hyena observations occur seven days a week from first light to mid morning and from late afternoon until dark.  In addition to behavioral data we collect “fresh” fecal sample for DNA and hormone analysis, as well as a number of other various data collections aimed to investigate different aspects of hyena condition.   Finally while in the field we conduct bi-monthy prey transects to monitor density of various prey (herbivores from antelopes to elephants), and we are constantly keeping a running list of all predator sightings.  To date I have seen cheetahs, lions, banded mongoose, bat-eared fox, black backed jackal, and of course spotted hyenas.

During the day back at camp data is transcribed, some basic camp chores are carried out according to schedule, and camp finances are maintained.  Serena camp as I inhabit it (in no particular order) looks as follows (see attached photos)

d

“March 23, 2011 MMW and ZML leave camp at 5:45 am for obs (observations) at Happy Zebra territory.”  “Note at 5:50 slight rain begins.”  “ 6:06 enter Happy Zebra."  "Note: Same minute rain has increased.”  “6:20 leave Happy Zebra; tracks to wet to off-road.”

As I have indicated the biggest problem faced to date has to do with restricted road use and high likelihood that any intrepid driving effort would result in our vehicle stuck in mud. It seems best described as a war between rain and sun.  In a battle played out on the roads leading to hyena dens, the rain is winning and the roads are left a casualty of the opposing forces.  Talk of April’s scheduled rainy season has lost certain appeal.

20 March 2011

As I may have mentioned it has been raining here quite a bit, which is fairly annoying for two reasons.  First it means that my struggling computer battery is most often left wanting in terms of power.  When not plugged in the battery dies in a matter of minutes and I am unable to send emails and otherwise stay in contact.  This coupled with the fact that we cannot go out to do our daily work do to the likelihood of damaging the roads, has admittedly, lent to some boredom. 

For example after a day of reading field protocols and some other various forms of literature, I found myself unable to pull my view from a small toad.  At around 8pm, a termite hatch had begun and seemed destine to cause some annoyance during what would soon be our dinner (the other aspect of camp that I currently most look forward too...and even in the face of events just short of apocalyptic this likely won't change; the food is great and I like to eat.) 

Anyway, the toad also arriving at the table for dinner, began a tireless effort to eat nearly a dozen or so of the flying termites, which were about 1/15 the size of the toad.  In certain order and with some patience this toad collected termites that having about as much grace as a whirly-gig (falling maple tree seeds) inevitably were stuck buzzing and crawling around on the tarp floor.  In their struggle to evade the toad I noticed that some termites were shedding their wings.  I do not know if this is to facilitate dispersal or mating or some other phenomenon.  Either way their success this particular night fell short by the efforts of the toad.  Although I can't speak to its comfort, the fattened toad slipped off into the dark, appetite satiated, sometime during which I was lost in my own gorging of a cabbage dish, chipotte, and curry (peppers, onions, tomatoes, garlic, sweet potatoes, and curry sauce).

After dinner, more tired of reading than tired I made my way to my tent where I was lulled to sleep by the sound of lion roars and hyena whoops.  Today I awoke to a leopard growling in camp (they make this chugging kind of sawing sound), but there was again no chance of going into the field because of rain.  However, provided a brief spell of sunlight I have been able to write about my time the past few days at Serena Camp (located in the Masai Mara).

14 March 2011

My name is Zach Laubach and through a fortunate sequence of events I have I arrived in Nairobi, Kenya on Saturday the 12^th of March, to work as a Research Assistant studying spotted hyenas.  By fortunate I mean for a number of reasons: the applicability of this experience in terms career aspirations (I am interested in the behavioral ecology of large mammalian carnivores), the timing of this opportunity fell neatly into place in both my academic and personal life, and I found my way onto a plane that actually landed in the appropriate destination (though I’d just as soon not hash out these particulars unaided by a cold drink!)  Aside from a few airline hassles, the flight went through without hitch and I was picked up by another Research Assistant (RA) working on the Hyena project.  Sunday we went around and began an errand list which was completed today.  These chores included buying groceries and supplies, acquiring research clearance from Kenya Wildlife Service, and car maintenance.  

About the garage where the car got fixed… turns out the owner is a 50 something year old British guy named Ian.  This is a guy I like and will enjoy any opportunity to spend time with.  The proud owner of three female English Black Labs, Ian is an avid bird hunter, dog trainer, and sit back and drink beer kind of story teller.  Apparently there are two hunting seasons for birds in Kenya, spring and fall.  Ian has even duck hunted in Africa… though significant bodies of water limit the opportunities, if located these hot spots have tons of ducks and a few often irritated hippos.  This came about after I saw some paintings of dogs retrieving ducks in Ian’s house, and I ventured to mention Gun (my Chesapeke Bay Retriever).  Needless to say this guy’s stories were tireless, and I think his reluctance to let us go only began to wane after we had set up a tentative time to continue the discussion over beer and photos from First Flight (our duck hunting club back in Michigan).

Hierarchy, interrupted?

RBC is the current (?) alpha female of North clan. She's a tough girl alright, when she has to be, but her personality leaves much to be desired. I can't tell you how many times I've been at a den, struggled to keep up with all the hustle and bustle that usually accompanies den sessions with lots of cubs, but had this one, oddball hyena sacked out (usually deep in tall grass and covered in mud) that didn't move an inch the entire time. Take a quick look at her ear and, sure enough, it's RBC. She's the hyena that doesn't even put her head up when 5 other females lope away from the den, whooping like crazy. Her cub will be 'wrongfully' aggressed on by other, lower-ranking cubs and she just chills out. For some unknown reason, she just can't be bothered.

DIGS is the current (?) #7 female of North clan. During my short 7-month tenure, she's been somewhat of a transient hyena. We would see her often-ish at the communal den, usually sacked out and nursing her cub (who is now a subadult), SANA. She never seemed to be in the center of activity, but she was never the loner at her own exclusive den, either. It wasn't shocking to see her at the dens with everyone else, but it also wasn't shocking when she would go missing for a week or more.

Both of these ladies made a contribution to the baby boom of late. TYPH (Typhoon, RBC's cub) is almost 4 months old and seems to be doing well. MARI (Mariana, DIGS' cub) is almost 2 months old and also seems to be growing steadily.

Just a couple of weeks ago I witnessed - what I believe to be - a pretty extraordinary event. I showed up at one of the communal dens to find RBC bleeding from fresh puncture wounds on the left side of her belly. She also had a little blood coming out of her mouth. She seemed to be just fine walking around, but I could tell it was uncomfortable for her to sack out.

I was surprised to see her up and moving around, which was when she started doing some weird stuff. After some low-grade aggressions on some lower-ranking hyenas (normal), RBC went bristle-tailed (showing excitement), wandered around, groaned, and pawed the ground. A lot. Ground-pawing is something that is most commonly done by males when courting females. Hyenas also paw the ground after urinating or defecating. There's speculation that it may also play a role in scent marking (this alternative purpose of ground-pawing is something I read in an outdated book on hyenas that suggested there could be interdigital glands that release a substance used for marking. I don't know if there have been recent studies on the phenomenon). Males do it randomly when no females are around, so I'm inclined to believe that there are motivations other than courtship. Before this day, the only other time I had seen a female paw the ground was after urinating or defecating.

Soon after this DIGS arrived at the den. In response to DIGS' presence, RBC immediately giggled and went into a submissive posture (and was still bristle-tailed). Um, WHAT? I had to take a few extra minutes to confirm that I had the IDs correct. Yup, I definitely saw what I saw. Rumor has it that not even Kay has heard an alpha female giggle. Later, it happens again. RBC was bristle-tailed, in submissive posture, and giggling, while DIGS was bristle-tailed, groaning, and sniffing her.

I know what you're thinking. RBC is hurt. RBC wanted to prevent any potential conflicts or confrontations to avoid over-exertion while injured. Definitely, definitely possible, especially because it seemed like her submission wasn't elicited by any aggression on DIGS' part. However, that doesn't explain RBC's voluntary participation in aggressive interactions before and after her giggling bouts with DIGS (which happened with an intensity that seemed uncharacteristic of RBC, but pretty standard for most adult females).

Perhaps RBC and DIGS got caught up in some altercation and DIGS is actually the cause of RBC's puncture wound (I also noticed later in the session that DIGS had a wound on her right cheek, suggesting they were both involved in an antagonistic interaction, perhaps with each other, lions, and/or other hyenas). If DIGS did indeed hurt RBC, intentionally or otherwise, I can understand RBC's immediate submission.

Or, DIGS is working her way up in the world. Just this morning DIGS seemingly had it in for JONI, who currently sits in the #4-5 spot. DIGS' aggressions were clearly not cub-related (maternal interventions, which I alluded to in my previous post, are common and don't necessarily follow the strict hierarchy), and JONI appeased like she was standing at the door to heaven.

To be fair, we don't know as much about the rankings as we'd like to. I'm speaking for Serena camp, now; I suspect that Talek camp - the mzee of fisi camps - has a pretty good idea of who should be submissive to whom in their own clans. But after studying our hyenas for only 3 years, we are still trying to sort out the pecking order these guys have in place for themselves. So, really, a big switcheroo of (what we know to be) the rankings shouldn't be all that surprising to us, given how little we actually know.

Keeping that in mind, it's still fascinating. For the past 7+ months it seemed like our ladies had been behaving consistently with what we thought was their place in the hierarchy. But given that there have been only 2 instances of possible change in one month, it is all the more clear to me why still, after 3 years, we have not yet been able to fine-tune the rankings with the limited data that we do have.

Baby Boom

We live exciting lives, us hyena researchers. Chasing carnivores across the African savanna, witnessing the couple-second transition of an ungulate full of life to an ungulate as an early-morning snack, and getting regular, nighttime visitors in camp (namely hippos, buffalo, and elephants). However, in my opinion, there are few events more exciting than the first glance of a brand new hyena cub.

It all started at the end of September. We had finally re-discovered the active den sites of all three (Serena) clans, and the hyenas were more social than usual. It was an exciting time, especially for me as a new(ish) RA on the project; I finally felt comfortable with a majority of the spot pattern IDs and the daily behavioral data collection. I was learning behaviors, and the hyenas were giving it to me.

Then we started noticing that certain females were acting unusually protective of their dens, typically never going more than a meter or two away from the hole unless it was to chase away other hyenas. We started seeing low-ranking females act aggressively towards higher-ranking females. Unusual, considering the strictly-followed social hierarchy of spotted hyenas.

Finally, I saw my first little black cub. Only 4 weeks old: about a tenth the size of its mother with pure black, velvety fur, bare, stretchy skin under the arms, a thin, wormy-looking tail, and fearful eyes. Who would have thought that such gnarly, tough creatures could start off looking so cute and fragile? (though I think hyenas of ALL ages are cute)

The next day we discovered that this cub had a twin. We showed up at the den and the new mama was nursing not one, but TWO cubs. By the end of the week we discovered 4 more brand new cubs in this clan (Happy Zebra). By the end of the month our other two clans also decided to hop on the baby bandwagon. 3 cubs in North, 2 cubs in South.

I was excited. I got to name some cubs and come up with lineages for new moms. It was fun to watch the cubs grow up and gain their confidence (for the first couple months most cubs will shy away from a blade of grass that blows in the wind). Slowly the cubs went from being all-black to having a dusting of white fur on their faces and foreheads. Eventually, spots started to develop on their shoulders and forelegs. Almost, just barely, enough to start differentiating between the little black fur balls.

Then came the boom. November and December yielded 22 new black cubs. January, 11. Still exciting, but now stressful. 33 more individuals to name, age, sex, and keep track of at the dens. More often than not we would find a batch of unaccounted-for cubs at a den and not learn who the mothers were until days or weeks later (when we finally saw them nursing). As soon as the cubs got old enough I was scrambling to take photos of their one or two shoulder spots just to try and figure out who everybody was. Without nursing information, or having spots to go by, there was virtually no way to confirm the identities of these young cubs.

So I've been busy. I'm trying my best to manage the influx of new hyenas while still discovering more. Just this month I've seen 5 more new cubs, and I'm waiting on at least one more subadult-now-turned-adult female whom I saw with a torn phallus recently (MSTL, for those of you in the know).

We've even had two litters of triplets, a rarity in the hyena world (and the first, for the Serena side): CLOV, the alpha female in South clan, and SILK, a low-ranking female in Happy Zebra clan. We have already, unfortunately, confirmed the death of one of CLOV's cubs, MAYO. It survived to be about 2.5 months old. I have not seen SILK or her cubs in quite a while, so their fate is unknown as of yet.

Otherwise, cub mortality seems to be low. I am only certain of one other disappearance, but I suspect there are 3 more. With the clans' best interests in mind, I hope these cubs live. We are starting to see some of the subadult males less and less, which means they're probably dispersing. I find it hard to believe that our already-small clans are at carrying capacity, so we could use the boost in numbers. With my own self-interests in mind, I REALLY hope these cubs live. I would (will) be devastated to see some of these cubs go, especially after having watched them grow up as if they're my own. They're already showing unique personalities. And they're just cute. See below.

The female hyena calls the shots

Check out hyenas from a Kenyan p.o.v. in an article (featuring Kay) in yesterday's Nation!

http://www.nation.co.ke

Tis a dark and stormy night…

…and we are out on obs. There is lightening on the horizon all around us, but that has been the norm recently, so we don’t pay it too much attention. Around 19:30, we are out with a group of West hyenas test chasing prey. It starts to rain - oh well, we start to head home. We make it through Camel X when it starts to RAIN. Like, pour buckets. Two minutes later and we can’t see beyond our front bumper – the rain is whiteout and horizontal. &*#%. We stop the car, which is literally rocking in the wind, and hope for the best. Meanwhile, lightening is striking all around us, and then it starts to HAIL. Wait, this is AFRICA, it’s not supposed to hail here!! Brian and I are in the car with ex-Fisi-camp-superstar Jaime and her bf Than, and we are all thoroughly convinced that a) we will be struck by lightning and b) we will be sleeping in the car. We fall into stunned silence, and I personally contemplate where the lightening will go when it strikes the antenna and comes into the car via the coaxial cables (yeah, physics!). The storm ends about an hour later, at which point we look out the window to see the car sitting in....a lake. It has rained 56mm (2.2 in), which is just enough to cover all the grass on that plain, and the wind from the storm is rippling the water in an eerily convincing way. We chill out for a while, wait for the water to sink in a bit, and then Brian balls out-of-control to get us home!