A Week in the Bush Vol. 590
on Apr 29, 2026It’s been a week of truly spectacular sightings. From unexpected encounters to those rare, breath-catching moments, the bush has delivered in every way…
On our way home during the afternoon safari, we rounded a corner and stumbled upon an incredible surprise in the road. A mother honey badger and her cub were right in front of us, playfully interacting for a few moments before she gently picked the cub up by its neck and disappeared back into the bush.
Honey badger cubs are born blind and completely helpless, relying entirely on their mother’s famously fierce nature for protection. She keeps them safely hidden in a den for the first few months, nurturing and guarding them closely. Even as they grow, they remain with her for up to two years, during which she teaches them how to hunt a wide range of prey - from small mammals and reptiles to insects, birds, and even bee larvae and honey.
Sitting around the dinner table after a day of memorable sightings often involves chatting about plans for the next morning. Having seen tracks of African Wild Dog that very day, we decided that we would head out in search of the rare and endangered canine.
We awoke to a familiar and steady chorus of rainfall, cascading down upon the lush bushveld landscape around us. As can often be the case, the rains seemed to bless our morning safari with some spectacular moments shared with wildlife. Suddenly, reports of a pack of wild dogs which had been located nearby - echoed out against the score of falling rain. Determined to conclude our plan, we made our way to the area in the hopes that we could catch up to the pack in wet conditions. However, as we shared space with these beautifully painted hunting dogs, our discussions and plans faded to the background. We sat and looked on in awe, as the dogs went about their business for the morning - pushing forward in search of prey.
A tense standoff unfolds as a pack of African wild dogs and a clan of Spotted hyenas confront each other in an open area.
Both are highly social predators, relying on teamwork and communication to survive. The wild dogs, known for their endurance and cooperative hunting strategies, assess the risk while the hyenas, powerful and opportunistic, stand their ground at first, ready to defend territory.
After a series of cautious advances and brief chases, the wild dogs decide the conflict is not worth the energy and begin to move on. Not far behind, the hyenas follow, waiting for any opportunity. Encounters like these highlight the constant balance of competition and survival in the wild, where energy, strategy, and cooperation can determine success or failure.
While enjoying our sundowners, we picked up the rasping call of a leopard in the distance. We quickly packed up and followed the sound, which led us toward a drainage line where we sat in silence, hoping he would call again. Luck was on our side when we heard him once more, allowing us to close the distance.
We soon found the Nsuku male leopard walking along the road, scent-marking as he moved. This male has been growing rapidly in both size and confidence, and only time will tell whether he will succeed in securing this area as his territory, as he faces direct competition from other males in the region.
After searching through the bushveld, we finally spotted her, and our spirits lifted instantly.
The Jacana female, along with her two cubs, was lying across the wide branches of a large Marula tree. Their full bellies told the story of a recent meal, and now they lay sprawled in the shade, completely at ease and soaking in a moment of quiet rest.
We briefly paused to watch as an impala ram ran across the field, and in that moment, a leopard started calling in the distance. We moved into the area where we had hoped the calls had come from, but we had no luck. The team drove every possible road looking for any sign or sound of a leopard, and as luck would have it, in the muddy road, a male leopard track sat perfectly. Indicating a direction of movement, we closed our search perimeter and found the Mawelawela male leopard, marking his territory and announcing his presence late into the night.
We left the 4 N’waswishaka males moving through the reserve the night before, and while being serenaded by their roars all night, we decided to follow up on them the next morning.
After a short drive from the lodge, we picked up tracks of a male and female lion, which soon led us to a lone male standing in the middle of the road. We followed him as he moved forward, softly calling, pausing to listen for a response and smelling the air for any sign of his brothers. Before long, he guided us to the remaining three N’waswishaka males, who were in the company of a Msuthlu lioness. Then, to our surprise, we noticed another N’waswishaka male off to the side, alongside a lioness from the Southern Pride.
In the distance, the long neck of a giraffe rose above the treeline, catching our eye and drawing us closer. As we approached, both Ranger and Tracker suddenly burst with excitement - there, among the movement, was a white zebra.
The young leucistic foal we had seen a few weeks earlier had returned, moving alongside its dazzle as they followed the giraffes through the bush.
Striking. Unusual. Almost otherworldly against the golden tones of the reserve. For a few brief moments, time seemed to slow as cameras clicked and videos rolled, capturing a sighting that felt almost too special to be real.
And then, just as gently as it appeared, it turned and slipped back into the bush - disappearing into the wilderness and leaving behind nothing but tracks, and the kind of story that stays with you long after the moment has passed.
The African Crake is an intra-African breeding migrant, typically found in dry but seasonally flooded grasslands during the summer rains from October to April.
As we left the lodge, a small bird running across the road caught our attention. We positioned the vehicle and waited, watching as the African Crake returned to bath in a shallow puddle left behind by the recent rains.
Dwarf mongooses are highly social animals, living in territorial family groups of up to 30 individuals. Each group is led by a dominant breeding pair, alongside subadults and young. The alpha pair monopolises breeding, producing litters of 2–6 pups, sometimes up to three times a year.
Within the group, subadults form a clear hierarchy and play an important role in daily life. They help babysit the pups, forage for food, and keep watch for nearby predators while the rest of the group is out feeding. Despite being the smallest carnivore, dwarf mongooses have a varied diet, including grasshoppers, termites, and scorpions, as well as snakes, bird eggs, rodents, and lizards.
A herd of elephants moved calmly through the open space, with calves playing and feeding. The herd, led by a matriarch, has deep social and emotional bonds that get strengthened by their allo-mothering relationships where all members of the herd, especially the adult cows, share care for the calves, improving their skills and benefiting their survival and the strength of the herd.
Standing patiently beside a dam, the Yellow-billed stork is a specialist fisher, using its long bill to probe the shallows for fish, frogs and small invertebrates. It often forages with its bill partially open, snapping shut instantly when it senses movement. These elegant birds are strong indicators of wetland health, relying on clean, productive water systems. Their presence at the dam highlights the rich biodiversity supported by these aquatic habitats.
Until next time…
Blog by Wendy Claase
Images by Charissa Jansen van Rensburg, Jan Nel, Jana du Plessis, Massimo da Silva and Ruan Mey
Videos by Jana du Plessis, Massimo da Silva and Ruan Mey
