I have always been amused by collective nouns. An obstinacy of buffalo, an implausibility of wildebeest, and my personal favourite, a parliament of owls.
None of these is more appropriate than the one referring to a group of vultures on a carcass. A ‘wake’ is certainly an apt title for the raucous, squabbling group of birds seen with their heads covered in blood, pecking, clawing, and generally providing entertainment for any guests and rangers fortunate enough to be there at the time.
Two vultures square off on the giraffe carcass.
Two lionesses of the Sparta pride recently brought down a very large giraffe bull. We think the bull was most likely lying down when the lionesses made their move, as a wide awake giraffe of this size would mostly likely have been to big a target even for these proficient huntresses. Be that as it may, we had an amazing few days viewing, as first the lionesses fed, sometimes with the two oldest Sparta cubs in attendance, and then three of the Majingilane collection arrived, taking the lion’s share of the carcass, so to speak.
It is every vulture for themselves at feathers and claws are used to fend off competition
The vultures, meanwhile, were relegated to the sidelines, forced to wait on the ground nearby or perch in the dead leadwood trees with which the area was dotted. They would only have their chance to feed once the larger predators – the lions, and later the hyenas – had fully satiated themselves.
Here you can see the claws and beaks of the two vultures digging into one another as they fight for the prime feeding rights to the carcass.
Their patience was rewarded after a few days, when the apex predators had moved off during the night, and what was left of the kill was suddenly up for grabs. Whitebacked vultures dominated the feeding while the hooded vultures hopped around the fringes, contenting themselves with scraps. A couple of lappet-faced vultures made their presence known, as well as some relatively rare whiteheaded vultures. They gorged themselves for a few days, until only the larger bones and the skull remained.
One vulture makes their presence known as he lands on another, digging claws into the feathers and exposed neck.
The subordinate vulture reacts by trying to shake off the attacker. Shortly after the lower vulture limped away from the carcass leaving space for the large one to feed.
Driving past the site today, only a few vulture feathers drift in the breeze, while the steadily bleaching bones glint in the sun, a stark reminder of the savage nature of life in the bush.
Written and Photographed by: James Tyrrell
