When I first arrived chez Foot and looked out at the peaceful waters of the Thamalakane river flowing lazily past the veranda, I would never have guessed that such a beautiful scene could conceal the dangers I now know lie beneath the waters.
Riding to the stables the following morning with Julie and David, I saw my first crocodile. Its ominous, unblinking eye poised just above the water line. However, after confident reassurance from David, one of Africa’s top safari guides, I was convinced that astride a large horse the water was safe enough.
These ancient reptiles are more fearful of us and will normally swim away when approached. Sure enough, as we proceeded, the croc that had been wallowing in the shallows, leapt into deeper waters.
Satisfied, I took to cantering through the waters on the way home for lunch each day to cool down from the midday heat.
However, I started to notice that one particular croc never seemed phased by my approach and would remain confidently on the edge of the river as I passed. Having seen him several times I decided to call him Colin – his happy face is in the picture above.
I asked David the reasoning behind this and he quite matter-of-factly replied that this croc must be one of the Croc Farm escapees…erm excuse me?! Apparently, there is a large croc farm just up the river from the house, and whilst all the crocs are in secure pens, one particular year they had an unusually high flood and there was a crocodile breakout; they swam over the fence and into the river!
Whilst the majority were re-captured, several escapees remain along the river and unlike the wild crocs they are not afraid of humans or horses – and especially not two bouncing dogs…
The vision of innocence shown below is perhaps not the most accurate portrayal of the Foot’s dogs: Bella – the lovable black lab and Mwana the cheeky village dog.
The two love to run with the horses and often come along in convoy on the way to the stables. With goats, cattle and birds aplenty there is an endless stream of victims for them to chase – the most dangerous of these – the crocodiles. The first sign you get is the pair suddenly making a beeline for the water, barking insanely before pouncing on the spot a croc has only just swiftly vacated, skulking away in fear.
Shouting at them to “heel” the two return guiltily with a reprimand that “one day the crocs are going to snap”.
What started as a seemingly uneventful journey home alone from the stables with the dogs in tow, quickly escalated when we came round the corner to see Colin, lolling on the bank across the path and facing our direction. Before I’d had time to open my mouth and shout, the dogs were charging towards Colin. What commenced was the tensest game of ‘chicken’ I’ve ever seen and as the dogs got closer I had a horrible premonition of who was going to win.
The dusty mass of fast approaching barking dog reached Colin, and for a minute the scene appeared to pause as the croc remained motionless whilst the dogs barked and jumped around him – quite a surreal image. Then all hell broke loose as Colin bit back; he came running along the bank snapping as he went after the two, now yelping dogs who were high-tailing to find shelter behind my horse!
The four of us, luckily with speed on our side, fled backwards to safety, before turning to watch Colin slide back into the water with what I couldn’t help feeling was an air of satisfaction. Colin had definitely won that round.
We all returned home in a much more sedate fashion. All I could think of was can you imagine if within 2 weeks of being here I had managed to serve up the two dogs for Colin’s lunch!