We thought the pride taking down an elephant was our grand finale in Botswana…but we were wrong. We decided to skip our afternoon game drive, indulging in a few sundowners instead. Just as the sun was about to settle over the Chobe, Chris started shouting frantically, “WILD DOGS, WILD DOGS, WILD DOGS!!!” Was this another case of boy crying wolf? Just one week back we’d encountered the same excited announcements only to find out it was several impala across the river. Whoops.
Sure enough we all turned our heads to find a pack of 9 wild dogs running across the floodplain directly in front of our camp. “WHOA, WHOA, WHOA.” Nunni’s arms went flailing, stopping the oncoming campers from getting in the way of our view. Little did we know they were also following the dog pack.
Because the sun was setting, we had a bit of a predicament with heading out of the park to follow their hot pursuit. Chris and I jumped in the vehicle, promising Nunni we would not leave the campground. Jeremy instructed us to go around the no access points at the end of Ihaha camp and follow them flat out.
The angel and the devil were playing our on our shoulders…what to do?!
The pack slowed down as they took note of a herd of zebra and several impala in the distance. We had a perfect view right from campsite one. The angel was winning; maybe we could watch it all from there.
Suddenly, the pack split up in various directions. Chris and I were watching in awe. I started hitting him and repeating the fact that 70 per cent of all wild dog hunts end with a successful kill. Would we be so lucky?
The impala recognised the impending danger and darted, running back towards our campground. A few followed the riverbed while others scattered through the campsites. Pandemonium ensued. Three dogs chased the impala through a stunned group of campers in site number three. Chris followed the dogs at high speed. The other dogs chased the impala near the river, crossing right in front of Jeremy and Nunni. As a desperate last effort, two of the impala leapt INTO the river. From the car, we assumed those two were finished. So we turned back to see part of the pack regrouping and making plan B. We raced back to the end of the campground where we noticed two or three impala on the other side of the camp. Now the devil was whispering in my ear…this is something that could not be missed!
I started yelling for Chris to drive through the ditch and cross the no access point, cutting across the open game park plains. He was not sold and thought we might get in a lot of trouble if caught. We waited for a minute to see how the hunt played out. And so our luck continued…Botswana just did not want us to leave.
Four dogs cornered the impala, chasing them back into our campground just above the ablutions block. Chris and I were going full speed, creating our own road to where we assumed the attack would go down. We were now following the dogs on our own, cutting through the vegetation at the top of camp. We hit a stump so hard, the radio switched on; a low static filled the air and we thought that was it, a tire had popped. Not giving up on this hunt, I reminded Chris that punctures could easily be repaired, and that we must carry on. We finally realised the noise was from the radio and were relieved to still see a few dogs in sight.
When we got to the top of the campsite we found a fresh impala carcass, guts pulled out. We’d just missed the take down. The lead hunter gathered his chommies and the savage feast was over in less than five minutes. Seven wild dogs tearing apart the impala. Smiles appeared on every dog’s face as the last bits of meat were devoured. Chris and I sat in awe. We’d witnessed the entire hunt, start to finish. No more than 15 chaotic minutes…we didn’t need to leave the campsite and there was still a distant glow from the setting sun; the angel had overpowered the devil and we were rewarded for following the rules of the national park!
Words + Photos by: Chris and Amanda Fraser
