National Geographic: Reflections on Elephants Page #3

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When a mud-covered,

dominant bull returns,

the ghostly elephant

should retreat.

But the water still

beckons him.

It is a mistake.

A jagged tusk slices through

the old skin into his neck.

The old bull goes down

with barely a struggle,

losing blood fast.

Even before the old bull dies,

a young male carries out a

bizarre mock-mating display.

This behavior can only

be explained

as an attempt to upgrade

his own status with this

show of domination.

The old bull dies quickly

and silently in the night,

though his fate was

long since determined.

Companions defend the

carcass against the hyenas,

a useless endeavor.

His body must continue

its usefulness to Africa,

even after his death.

Like an ancient burial ritual,

attention is paid

to every detail.

We don't yet understand

this behavior.

Is it a macabre fascination

with the dead

or perhaps a tribute to

a fallen companion?

And why is the ivory so often

the focus of these haunting

examinations?

As a week passes,

the carcass gradually

relinquishes its form.

There is no mythological

elephant graveyard,

no common place where bones

and tusks are taken...

just the eventual scatterings

in the dust.

As the last scavengers squabble

over the scraps of the body,

A few bulls remain,

perhaps still nurturing a special bond

with the old elephant.

Before we could really understand

his ways and the ways of his species,

The bull's spirit floats away.

Eight days and what was once

a giant of the world

is no more than just a memory,

just a reflection of a time

when elephants roamed Africa

from sea to sea and

ruled the continent.

Once again the clans are gathering,

marching for the rivers.

Paths interlace,

leaving behind a swath

of flattened vegetation.

This constant ebb and

flow of bodies

affects some areas

while resting others,

A balance that is

forever changing.

The females head for the best

feeding and good water,

not only for the living,

But for their unborn as well.

The final miles are covered

on the run toward the rivers.

Here the matriarch and

her calves will see out

the next three months

of the dry season.

Even in this chaotic clamor

for water,

The elephants show a sensitivity

and awareness of who is around them

and where their other clan

families are

After a grueling six months,

the calves,

possibly sensing that their

constant march is over

take on a new playfulness

and relax.

But now when the oppressive

heat stings their dark bodies,

They can hide from its burning fingers

Gradually the elephants drop down

like weary puppets at the end of a show.

both young and old drifting

into a rare sleepiness.

For them there are easy ways to

shut out the world.

They seldom allow themselves

to sleep for long.

Just a few minutes at a time are needed

by animals with such long, slow lives.

Only when they are all up

and ready will the matriarch

lead them out of the shade,

always keeping the herd together.

But sometimes things go wrong.

Occasionally calves are left

behind and wander around lost,

Testing each herd they approach.

When he sees the matriarch

and goes to greet the herd,

this young male is turned away

His best chance of being found

is to keep searching.

Despite their

good communication,

These separations are

inevitable.

Newborn calves have begun to

displace the older ones.

Unbeknown to him,

his real family is across the

plain heading into the forest.

Suddenly he finds himself

among lions.

Before he can turn away,

the juvenile is

locked in a deadly game.

But this time innocence is

matched by inexperience.

The lions are young and seem more

intent on experimenting thank killing.

Lions often prey on the weak,

but this calf is lost,

Not ailing... a determined

opponent with a thick hide,

not easy to penetrate.

But soon he tires and the

lions close in for the kill.

Quite suddenly the

experiment is over.

The lions are exhausted,

and lose interest.

The calf responds,

surprising the lions with his

new zest for life.

As they watch, he slips away.

What emotions elephants feel during

these struggles we do not know

That they do feel something

is quite apparent.

Back in the bull area,

when old bones have

all but turned to dust,

The mud relinquishes

a precious last reminder

of the old bull at the

water hole.

Like a trophy,

it is carried into the open,

displayed, and fondled.

Like a memory,

it is tasted and nurtured.

This haunting behavior is

difficult to understand.

How can we ever know

what elephants feel

and what form these emotions take

A mystery, forever.

When they attempt to destroy ivory

by smashing it against rocks

or try to crush tusks

by standing on them,

are they displaying a

new behavior...

a solemn response to the

atrocities of our time?

Or is this an ancient ritual

and if so what does it mean?

At the river the matriarch

leads her herd on a final push

for better feeding on the north bank.

Swimming is little

problem for elephants.

They share an ancestry with seagoing

mammals like dugongs and manatees.

Large, vacant, nasal and sinus cavities

keep their heavy heads afloat,

and their fat makes

them buoyant.

On the south bank a timid

young bull refuses to swim

and watches the herd disappear

By now the young bull has given up

all attempts at swimming.

The herd's ancient knowledge

has betrayed them this time.

For when they finally emerge

on the north bank,

They have crossed into another

country, Namibia.

The stranded young bull still

calls to them in alarm.

The herd is now fair game for

hunters poachers and traders

A wave of communication flashes back

and forth across the river.

Then, reacting as one,

they plunge into the water

so swim back to the young bull

Although by now the

exhausted young calves

are at risk of drowning

in the strong current,

A fatal conflict with man

has been avoided.

On the south bank greetings and

urgent reassurances flood from the herd,

But he will not be persuaded.

The herd gives up and remains

on the familiar and safer

soils of Botswana...

The end of the restless

journey for the matriarch

and her calves, for this year.

This may be the last

generation of elephants

to traverse these ancestral ranges,

the last truly free elephants.

As we succeed more

and more as a species,

They seem to trickle further

and further from our reach.

It has been said

that we could do worse

than mold our own lives

on those of elephants...

Lives filled with dignity

and gentle bearing, and time.

Perhaps we need more time

to understand those gentle

celebrations of life and death

that are like silent whispers

in the moonlight...

more time for reflections on elephants

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