10/09/2026
I have told this story several times, but it is that time in our exposition to tell it again, and there are many new friends here since last I told it. Please indulge me...
On our next to last night at Ndutu Camp, our guide Joseph Langay came to speak to us after dinner. "I have learned of something so unexpected and exciting that I believe we must try to see tomorrow. It is so unbelievable that I can't even tell you what it is tonight, because if I told you and then we did not see it, I am afraid you would never trust me again. It is a very long drive from here to a place called Ubuntu, but I believe we must try to do this tomorrow. Are you willing to try?" Of course, the prospect for high adventure and a wildlife encounter well above the norm was electrifying to us and we said certainly we had to try for it even though it was a long drive. Immediately and silently I speculated it must be one of two things - either a rhino with a calf, or wild dogs. Martha and Elke were insatiably curious and wanted me to tell them what I was thinking, but I would not betray Joseph's secret. Finally they guessed rhino calf on their own and I had to concede that was one of my two suspicions, but that was all.
It was indeed a long dusty drive south down the Ndutu to the Ubuntu Rim, but in time we were standing on a low rocky rim overlooking the watershed headland that fell away before us to form an expansive amphitheatre draining thorn scrublands to the southeast. As we stood there overlooking the scene, Joseph said, “Now I must tell you what we look for, because I must have your help in looking for them. Yesterday a pack of wild dogs were seen somewhere down there.” It was almost too amazing to be possible! “They could be anywhere down there lying in the shade of those trees and bushes. We must look hard for them.” The retired wildlife biologist in me stirred with near-despair. I knew country like this and I knew wild dogs – not African wild dogs but coyotes and foxes and wolves and I knew that the dogs held all the cards on this landscape. The only advantage we had was that there would be many rigs looking for them today. If a group other than ours found them, we would be at the mercy of the information network to be notified. The Anglo guides from Ubuntu Camp had already demonstrated a tight-lipped reticence to share information with us in an earlier encounter.
We made our way slowly down into the lowlands as the midmorning summer heat began to bear down in earnest. The land and vegetation dried out as we descended into dusty, white dirtbank scablands that were no pleasure to explore. Groups of vultures cleaning up the work of the hyenas from the night before were just about all that greeted us here. We drove around the two-track trails back and forth weaving in and out of the white gullies for over an hour with only a fresh wildebeest carcass or two to fuel our hope. I must admit my own hopes began to wither with the rising temperature. I knew they were here, but our expectations of seeing them were probably unrealistic. This could turn out to be one of my hollowest disappointments in a long life of living with wildlife, even more poignant than missing the wild dogs and sable antelope at Ruaha two years before.
A little after 1100, we hooked up with a rig that had seen the dogs day before yesterday. The driver agreed to let us tandem, and prospects lifted slightly. We scrummed down into a low dry stream channel and as two rigs began to climb the opposite bank, Joseph stopped, momentarily unsure which path to take forward. Just as he had made his choice and threw the Land Rover into a new gear, something stood up in the shade on my left maybe 100 yards from the car. It was black, dog-sized with big round ears – the silhouette of perfection. “Over there!” I said, half unwilling to believe my eyes. Joseph looked and immediately shouted “WILD DOG!” We had found them!
