Lions in our midst

My hand sunk into coarse, amber fur. It felt so thick, like a winter coat – not suited to an African animal at all. The cub looked at me with big, orb eyes. I sat on the dirty concrete of the enclosure and before long the young lion clambered onto my lap, somewhat heavier than most cats.

Ten minutes sitting with the lion cubs was long enough to get a lasting impression. Cute and cuddly, their instincts often took over as they nipped at loose clothing. To them, everything was potential food.

Located on the outskirts of Gweru, Zimbabwe’s third largest city, Antelope Park is a world where man and beast coexist on the same side of the fence. But it is more than a theme park or petting zoo, rather it’s a conservation site striving to safeguard the future of lions by working closely with the African Lion Environmental Research Trust and the world’s first Lion Rehabilitation & Release into the Wild programme.

On our first night in the park we built a roaring fire to warm the night air and keep mosquitoes away. Staring into the flames, our thoughts were full of lions. The interaction with the cubs had been exhilarating, but there were more wild adventures to look forward to.

At dawn the following day, we rose with sleepy eyes to a pink morning. It was time to walk with the lions. After entering the park boundary in small groups, we were assigned two experienced lion handlers.

After a briefing on how to behave around adolescent lions, we were handed short sticks, ostensibly used to let the lions know that we were in charge. I looked at the flimsy twig and hoped I wouldn’t need to use it. Would a stick really make a difference if suddenly faced with an aggressive lion bearing down?

The lions were released and herded towards us. It was like a wildlife programme come to life. Three young males strolled into our midst. At 18 months old they were not yet fully grown but certainly big enough.

“Don’t show fear,” the handlers had told us. When so close to these powerful predators that you can smell their husky breath, that’s easier said than done.

Setting off on our walk into the park, the lions padded along beside, barely paying attention to us. Visitors to Antelope Park are allowed stroke the calmer lions and have pictures taken with them. It’s a rare chance to be so close to such fascinating and powerful creatures, but there are bigger treats.

The Night Encounter is a jeep ride into the park with fully grown lionesses out hunting. Ours was a chilly night to spend two hours in a safari jeep open to the elements. A woolly hat and sleeping bag proved useful investments.

The jeep bounced into the park as two huge lionesses were released from a nearby pen. They immediately began circling us. One looked me right in my eyes, only a small handrail between me and the big she-cat. The seat in the middle of the jeep, out of paws’ reach, suddenly looked a better choice. These lions were hungry. We were here specifically to watch them feed, following them into the bush on a hunt for game. No wonder there was a glint in the lionesses’ eye.

We set off, twisting in and out of acacia trees and swerving around termite mounds, following the lionesses closely in their search for prey, great spotlights illuminating their golden flanks. At first it was as though they were on a gentle midnight stroll. Then, with a rustle of antelope close by, they crouched low and listened. One second they were as still as stone, the next they were racing after an antelope that flew through the night at alarming speed. The leading female closed in on the antelope, but missed.

A few hours went by. The lionesses showed a passing interest in a regal ostrich; a comical catch if they had made the attempt. The park rangers had warned us that there was no guarantee of a kill. Just as we had resigned ourselves to be content with the near-catch earlier on, one of the spotlights whirled swiftly to illuminate the twisting body of an antelope that had just been flung into the air, followed by a muscular lioness reaching up to grab its hindquarters. A few short seconds of mayhem ensued before both lionesses were on top of the kill, pinning it to the ground.

Our jeep pulled in close and we found ourselves with front row seats at the wild dinner table. It wasn’t a pleasant sight. The antelope was still alive as the cats began to feed. The sound of the antelope grunting in pain and the cracking of bones turned my stomach. Yet fascination stopped me from looking away. The lionesses made short work of their meal and afterwards lay down with bloated stomachs to lick bloodstained faces. We sighed in unison with the creatures and reflected on our luck to see such nature in action.

From the cuddly cubs to the powerful lionesses, Antelope Park delivered. Nothing compares to the experience of touching a young lion, before witnessing a grisly, stomach-churning antelope kill by the elder tribe of the same animal. I would go back there in a heartbeat, perhaps the one stolen from me as that first bone crunched.