CHAPTER ONE
The Fourth Litter
NOW Pippa was close to her hour for the fourth time and Iliad recently watched her
movements anxiously. For the last four days she had been missing and so I was very glad to
see her walking into camp at tea time on the 13th of July 1968. She came from the nearby
plain where she had given birth to her last litter and where, when thirteen days old,
these unfortunate cubs were killed by a hyena. Since then the vegetation in the area had
grown into a thick scrub and had become more of a trap to animals of Pippa's size than a
suitable nursery. I was therefore surprised that she had frequented this place during the
last weeks, and that she headed back to it again as soon as she had eaten a hearty meal.
Local and I followed her for half a mile, after which she sat down and would not budge.
While I patted her and felt her milk-swollen nipples she rolled over; at that moment I saw
four elephants approaching us swiftly. There was nothing left for us to do but to run.
Glancing back I saw the giants steadily advance towards Pippa who, as on many other
occasions, ignored them. Today this puzzled me, as her condition indicated that she would
give birth within the next forty-eight hours.
We had watched these elephants hanging round the camp, for the last five days and all
our efforts to chase them away had not stopped them from browsing persistently at a few
trees close to our huts, as though these were the only ones in the big park which could
satisfy them.
Next day there was no sign of Pippa. She kept away for nine days, the longest time she
had so far concealed her newly born litters from me. We searched all over the plain where
we had last seen her, but neither spoor nor recent droppings gave us a clue as to her
whereabouts. Then, on the 23rd, I suddenly saw her standing on the high ground behind the
camp where I had parked my Land-Rover. She screened the surroundings for a very long time
and I was glad to see her so suspicious. Pippa, who in her early youth had been a frequent
guest in the Nairobi restaurants, now behaved far more like a wild animal than did the
cheetah in the Amboseli and Nairobi National Parks which, having become so used to
admiring tourists, frequently hop on to their cars and even tolerate being touched by
them. I could not have asked for a greater re ward for the loneliness I had experienced,
which was the consequence of having kept visitors away from her right from the beginning
of her rehabilitation, than to watch her now making sure we were undisturbed. Only after
she was sure that no danger was present did she come near us, demanding meat. Then, by the
way she wolfed it down, I could judge how hungry she was; I also saw how thin she had
become. After finishing her meal, she instantly retraced her spoor along the road to
Leopard Rock, by-passing the plain I had expected her to choose as a nursery.
It was midday and very hot, but Pippa walked quickly for two miles before she turned
off and made her way some 500 yards through the bush in the direction of the Mulika
rivulet. After sniffing carefully around, she led Local and me to a mellifera bush (the
same 'wait-a-bit' acacia she had always used for her nurseries); hidden inside the
thicket, I saw four cubs. Two had their eyes open and were bigger than the others.
Remembering that in the case of her previous three litters the cubs had opened their eyes
between the tenth and eleventh days, I assumed that these cubs were nine days old,
therefore born on the 15th of July.
While watching the fluffy little creatures crawling on their very shaky legs to Pippa's
teats, I could not help smiling at the way in which she had again fooled us so
successfully by making us believe that she would choose the plain, half a mile from camp,
for giving birth. In fact, on the 13th, as soon as we had left her with the elephants, she
must have walked up here, where the grass was low and conditions ideal for rearing tiny
cubs. There were plenty of thorn bushes scattered around with enough open space between
for her to watch out for danger. Both the Vasorongi and Mulika rivulets were within
fifteen minutes walk and her nursery was well hidden from the road, although she could
hear a passing car or the lions, which often used the road as a highway, but always gave
plenty of warning of their approach by their whuffings.
As I watched the family the little ones suckled for all they were worth, pressing their
faces deep into Pippa's soft belly as she moved herself continuously into various
positions to offer them the best supply of milk.
Reluctantly I left this peaceful scene and returned home.
Pippa knew by now that she could trust her newly born to Local and me, and when later
that afternoon we again visited her she never stirred but kept on nursing the cubs for the
brief time we stayed.
Judging by size only, there were two males amongst the four, but when I saw the three
leathery, lentil-sized patches in triangular position, where later on the genitals of the
males would grow, I concluded that in fact there were three males. If this were so, Pippa
had kept a good balance between her second litter of three females and one male, and this
present one with the opposite proportion of sexes. I had been unable to observe the
relationships of male and female in her previous family because little Dume had died when
barely five months old; so now I hoped that Pippa with my help would be able to rear the
fourth family more successfully. Knowing from sad experience how prone young cheetah cubs
are to leg injury, owing to their fragile bones, I was deter- mined to prevent such
accidents by adding vitamins to the cubs' food as soon as they started eating meat. Out of
ignorance I had given such supplements too late to the previous litter. Already I had
tried to help Pippa by adding a daily 15 mg of calcium lactate to her food during her
pregnancy, and intended to continue to do so until she weaned her cubs.
Next morning I announced our arrival by calling Pippa from a distance. She emerged from
her bush and walked over a hundred yards to a 'shady tree' where we fed her. She was
extremely thirsty and could not drink enough, but she hardly touched her meat. I then
noticed that her vulva was still blood clotted, and I assumed her lack of appetite was due
to the fact that she had not yet recovered from giving birth. Since she had reacted in the
same way after she had borne her previous litters, this seemed to be normal and no cause
for anxiety. Soon she sniffed the air and led me up-wind in a detour of some 300 yards to
her cubs. They lifted their sleepy faces and lost no time in finding a teat as soon as
their mother had licked each in turn and settled down.We left soon and only returned for a
brief visit in the afternoon to bring more water to a very thirsty Pippa. Obviously she
had not risked leaving her young alone to go to the river for a drink.
By the next day all the cubs had opened their eyes and, blinking vaguely at me,
wrinkled their noses and spat. This reaction of wild cheetah cubs, when they sensed the
presence of a Creature which did not belong to their kind and realized that it might be
dangerous, was familiar to me and what was interesting about it was that as yet they could
hardly have had experience of danger. I also found it interesting to observe that Pippa
now mistrusted good old Stanley, and would not come near her food while he was still in
sight. Whereas usually, instead of wasting time to meet me first, she made a beeline for
him when he was carrying the meat basket. I felt sorry for the poor fellow being so badly
treated, but I remembered Elsa reacting in the same way after she had given birth; for
quite a few weeks neither of her two African friends were allowed to appear even on the
horizon.
Stanley accepted this temporary estrangement from Pippa good-naturedly, and despite her
growls carried the heavy load of meat and water to her. Pippa daily increased the
distances of her detour back to the nursery after eating, always taking great care that
the direction of the wind should give the cubs her scent. On the thirteenth day after
their birth she moved them within the bush to a different place, and did so again on the
following day. But it took two more days before she carried them ten yards away to a new
bush. I wondered why she was so cautious this time as she had moved her second and third
litters to different localities within eleven days, while their eyes were still closed.
At their new home the cubs were far more in the open and, not being handicapped by
dense thorns toddled around vigorously. Pippa watched every one of their moves and when
one of the quartet ventured off some nine feet on its own, she quickly pushed it back and
spanked it gently.
One morning, while she sat under a nearby tree watching the surroundings, I tried to
identify the sexes of the cubs by touching the genital parts, but all were still far too
fluffy to ascertain the difference, although I still believed that there were three males,
one of whom was much smaller than the female. I also took the opportunity to test their
claws to see if at this early age they were retractable, for I knew that the Krefeld Zoo
in Germany claimed them to be so for the first ten weeks. I had had only limited
opportunities to prove their claim with Pippa's previous litter, but now I was determined
to find out, and was finally able to make sure that cheetah claws were not retractable.
When the cubs were seventeen days old I heard them for the first time calling with a
high-pitched chirp, to which Pippa instantly responded.
On the 1st of August Pippa came as usual to the 'Shady Tree' for her meal, and while
she ate I went to see the cubs. They were fast asleep. I then followed Pippa to the road
and on to the Vasorongi rivulet; here she searched for a suitable place where the water
was shallow and she could drink without the risk of being nipped at by a crocodile; then,
leaping in long bounds back to the road, she rolled for some time in the dust and finally
walked off in a leisurely fashion, making a lengthy detour back to her cubs. Why I
wondered was she so relaxed, did she know that they were still sleeping? They continued to
sleep for another hour while Pippa and I rested close by.
Recently Pippa had waited for us on the road, using it in the early morning as a
dust-bath. This worried me, not so much because of possible traffic, but because Pippa
would leave her scent behind for predators to follow up. I was especially anxious one
morning when I found the fresh spoor of three lions within my camp, which continued along
the road for a mile towards Pippa's nursery. But when she met us at the 'Shady Tree"
she seemed unconcerned and, after having eaten, led me to a bush much farther off in the
plain and more secure as a nursery, than the previous one. I watched the cubs clambering
amongst the bushes, probing each other and often tumbling over the thorny branches, until
Pippa started nursing them and we left.
We had not gone more than 500 yards when we saw three lions walking along the road
towards us. While we stopped to watch them, they bolted into the plain where, a little
higher up, Pippa had her cubs. Very worried we did all we could to make them change their
course. We must have been successful as the next morning we found the family under the
same bush where we had left them, and found Pippa only concerned about the baboons which
we heard barking not far away. She refined to eat her meal under the 'Shady Tree' and,
looking nervously around, hardly touched the meat even after I had brought it close to the
nursery . . . strangely, next morning she seemed not to be at all worried by the baboons
which were still close, and even left the sleeping cubs for a long time in order to
stretch her legs.
During her absence I investigated their teeth, and found the bottom incisors and the
canines well developed. The cubs were three weeks old that day. Two days later the top
incisors and canines had come through. Meanwhile Pippa had moved them some 250 yards into
a very small bush which hardly offered any protection. Though the little ones could by now
scramble along on their own it was a long distance for them to cover. I could not
understand why Pippa had chosen this small bush and could understand it even less when I
found the family still there on the following day, and Pippa very alert because of the two
lions whose spoor we had seen along the road.
One of the cubs seemed puzzled by my presence, stared at me intensely and took up a
defensive attitude, placing itself between me and his family. He kept on scrutinizing me
until we left.
On my return to camp I found a message from George saying that he had met one of
Pippa's daughters of a previous litter and he said that if I came at once he might still
be able to locate her. I drove over immediately and then went on with George to the place
where he had seen the cub the day before. We stopped on the plain close to the Rojoweru
River some three miles from his camp. Evidently the cub must have widened its territory,
for when we had previously seen Whity and Tatu they had been nearer the camp. George told
me that he had been searching for his lions when, standing on his car, calling and
screening the surroundings with his binoculars, a cheetah had suddenly appeared and had
sat down within twenty yards of him.
He offered her sonic meat, which she refused, so she could not have been very hungry,
then he gave her water and while she lapped it from a bowl he took a few photographs. She
was in excellent condition and disappeared soon after. Unfortunately we never found the
cub that afternoon, but later on I identified her from the photographs as Whity.
I was still deeply attached to Mbili, Whity and Tatu, and wondered what by now Pippa's
feelings were towards them. When they were young she had always shown great affection,
licking and nursing them, and often she joined in their games. Invariably she had used
great tact and gentleness so as not to arouse jealousy among them. Intermingled in close
bodily con tact, purring and showing every sign of contentment, the family had always been
happy and relaxed. Now, since these present cubs filled Pippa's life, the earlier ones
seemed no longer to exist for her.
Does nature, I wonder, help wild animals to go on breeding litter after litter by
cutting the ties between mother and young completely once they are able to live on their
own? If not, how was it that neither Pippa nor her previous daughters had ever shown a
wish to meet again? Can it be man's prerogative, alone amongst all mammals, to continue
his relationship with the succeeding generations?
I was very conscious of the need to find the right answers to the many questions that
cheetah pose, and for sonic time I had tried to co-opt a scientist to share my experiences
and to complement my amateurish observations. But I had been warned that it might be
impossible to combine the scientific method of studying animals, which is purely
objective, and cuts out all personal relationships between animal and man, with my method
which is subjective and primarily based on mutual trust and affection. In the end, as I
failed to find a scientific colleague I could only try to use some of the ways that
scientists had recommended to me, one of which was repeatedly to spend twenty-f9ur hours
with the animals and record minutely every detail of their behaviour; but it proved
impossible to follow Pippa's movements during the night without disturbing her routine, so
I had to be satisfied with spending all the hours of daylight with her and her family.
Luckily Pippa had by then moved the cubs into a bush large enough for me to sit close
and watch everything the family did.
By midday the heat became exceedingly trying, and although the lacy foliage of the acacia
mellifera seemed to provide enough shade to keep the cheetah comfortable, I had to
change my position under the thorny branches very often so as to keep in the shade and try
and stop my headache. For the last hour I had been lying on my stomach with my head next
to Pippa's, caressing her while she nursed her cubs and purred, then at 3.40 p.m. our
idyll was suddenly interrupted by an aircraft circling low above us, obviously trying to
locate us. instantly the cheetah scattered, and I had great difficulty in leading the
terrified cubs back into the bush and re-uniting them with Pippa.
A little later we heard the hooting of a car horn coming from the direction of the
road. I sent Local to find out what all this meant; he returned with a note from a party
from the London BBC who wanted to interview me at once as they had to fly back to Nairobi
soon. Their visit had been arranged some time ago by the National Park Authorities, but it
took me by surprise and put a full stop to my cheetah observations for that day. Hot and
thirsty, I answered their questions, but refused to be photographed in my scruffy clothes
which were very dirty from rolling all morning under thorny bushes - of course, what they
were really interested in was photographing the cheetah, this I dodged tact fully. Against
my principles I found myself committed to this interview, but it made me more determined
than ever to keep strangers away from the family and avoid any publicity until my study of
them was completed.
Next morning Pippa met us at the 'Feeding Tree' which was some distance from the bush
where yesterday the plane had interfered with her routine. She ate in a leisurely way
until faint chirping sounds made her look up. So far as I was concerned, these chirps
could have been made by birds, but Pippa at once interrupted her meal and hurried off to
her cubs. She had quite a job to find the little ones who, trying to follow her, had got
entangled in the undergrowth and separated from each other. The smallest cub had an
especially tough time struggling through the grass. When I found it panting and exhausted
and crying for help, I picked it up. Feeling its silky fur for the first time, it was only
with difficulty that I restrained myself from caressing it while carrying it some fifty
yards to a bush under which Pippa was waiting with the rest of her family. This was a real
thorny fortress with excellent shade. To me it seemed to be the perfect lair but Pippa was
of a different opinion, and after walking restlessly around, ordered the cubs, in her
mysterious way, to stay behind while she went off to find a better place. When she
reappeared, she commanded them with a sharp prr prr to come along.
It was a charming sight to see the cubs trotting off in single file, winding their way
through the grassy labyrinth until the smallest one was once again in trouble, as it
tumbled against insurmountable obstacles. This time Pippa came to its rescue and carried
it by the scruff of its neck, dropping it repeatedly to get a better grip as she picked it
up again - until she reached a patch of open scrub in which she rested her young. I
thought it a 'lousy' retreat, providing barely enough shade against the fierce sun, let
alone security from predators. Pippa must have come to the same conclusion for leaving the
little ones in my care she went off in search of a more suitable bush. She was away for
twenty minutes, a long time for the cubs to wait, during which the smallest one came
cuddling up to me, tempting me irresistibly to play with it. I needed to exert self-
control not to respond to it and I was only just succeeding in not weakening when it
joined the other cubs and all dozed off in a fluffy heap of soft bodies.
By now it was 10.00 a.m., the hour at which Pippa always suckled her cubs. She did not
need a watch to tell her the time, and turned up at the exact minute. Strangely, however,
she did not settle down to nurse the family, but went to the far end of the scrubby patch
and lay down. I patted her and although she purred and seemed to like being caressed, she
did not move. Expecting her to be thirsty after her long walk, I went back to the 'Feeding
Tree' to collect water. On my return I found all the cheetah had disappeared. I searched
under every promising bush for a long time, then I saw Pippa about 300 yards away coming
towards me, alone and very thirsty. She drank the last drop of water, after which she
returned to the 'lousy bush', where she stayed put. Nothing I could do would make her move
back to her cubs, so, taking the hint, I went home. I wondered whether her restlessness,
and her wish to hide the cubs was her re action to my touching the smallest one, or if she
were still upset about the plane circling so low and noisily yesterday above her lair?
Whatever her reasons, I had to restore her trust which in either case had been injured by
human interference.
