Across the river
Where the wilderness lay, we saw, at last light
The lions make their evening kill.

Next day
The mules, carrying our kit,
Went on ahead, in case that pride
Was still prowling around.

Then
We crossed the Umfolosi
And started on our trail, through
That unmarred expanse, thirty thousand hectares
Of untouched, unspoilt land and
Some dedicated men, determined
To keep it that way.


We had walked
A winding, wild way, when
A wildebeest
Bellowed. Objected to us
Trespassing on his turf. Made his stand.
Shouted out his challenge. Then
Left our path and ran.

We diverted, not wanting to disturb
A glorious golden orb spider who
Had spun his massive web
Across the path which we had chosen.

Stopped, on a hillside slope
Rested, drank water and found
A Mozambican spitting cobra, busy, digesting
The bird that it had caught.

On we went through that trackless space
To find,
Rhino
Relaxing by a waterhole. Who smelled us, spooked
And charged.

Next on our trek, we saw
An elephant, browsing. Quietly.
Which we passed on by. Quietly.

And the buffalo, resting
On the riverbank
Whom we carefully tiptoed past
To cross the river again.

Then
Reaching trail camp. Tents
A cookfire burning. A bucket
In a tree - for our ablutions, as well as
A spade, with paper roll, should we wish
To wander off, privately and
Take the pressure off our minds.
No more. No luxuries. Just a place
To cook our food
And shelter from the rain.

Four days on, when
We started back to base,
To beds, showers, chairs. We felt
Tired, sore, scratched, burnt - and
In touch with real life, again.