Walks in the wilderness

Imagine walking through the arid splendour of the Kalahari on a golden August morning, with a magnificent young lioness by your side. She moves gracefully along, rather aloof, her tail curving, her ears pricked, on the alert for a stray kudu or hartebeest. Your hand rests on her back as you walk along, and you stroke her tawny fur. You can feel her muscles rippling as she advances and her steady, measured breathing.
Incredible? Yes! I had to pinch myself as I did my “lion walk” with Sirga, the lioness raised from a cub by Val Gruener, one of the two founders of the Modisa Wildlife Project in Botswana. Modisa recently achieved world renown thanks to a video going viral on Youtube of the lioness leaping on Val and embracing him with a mighty hug.
Every Modisa volunteer ends their stint in the Kalahari by walking through the bush with Sirga by their side. It’s a very surreal feeling, touching this majestic beast, who, like Aslan, is certainly not a tame lion. If Val were not on hand to reassure her and control the situation, Sirga might well decide that I am a tastier alternative to eland or impala. The bush sets a thrilling backdrop to the scene – a light breeze rustles through the acacia trees, Cape crows wheel overhead, the sand crunches underneath my bare feet.
Suddenly she tenses – and then springs away, in hot pursuit of an impala spotted through the bushes. As it’s the dry season in the Kalahari, the trees offer less camouflage so antelope have to be constantly on the alert for danger. I watch enthralled as she darts off, transformed in an instant from tranquil cat to deadly predator. The impala immediately senses the threat and leaps away at astonishing speed, her life hanging in the balance. She narrowly outstrips Sirga, who returns somewhat despondently in response to Val’s call.
I feel very lucky – not everyone has the opportunity to see Sirga in action, even though on this occasion she didn’t succeed in catching her prey. The walk ends with a photoshoot, so that I can prove to my friends back home that I am now an official lion whisperer. Sirga sprawls out in the shade, and I pose next to her, reflecting when she yawns that my head could quite easily fit inside her mouth. She bares her white jaws, which only a few days ago I saw dripping with blood after a more successful foray where she brought down a baby hartebeest. Exhilarated and happy, I stretch out too, resting my head on her shoulder, and gaze up to the endless blue of the desert sky.