Kob Stag

The blistering afternoon heat in which we set off was moderating by the time we finished our transect. As we walked back across the plain towards our camp, we kept coming across what our ranger, Issa, seemed to call Vanessa's Doves, feeding on the ground in small groups. They fluttered away as we came too close, landed after a short distance, and flew again as we approached.

We caught many glimpses of kob antelopes, mainly hinds, as we made our way through the open savannah forest, but they were too cautious to allow us to get close. Then Issa raised his hand, indicating a magnificent kob stag standing some distance away, looking at us. Putting some vegetation between me and the stag, I slowly approached, admiring the beautiful coat, almost glowing in the warm sun, and the handsome head set off by the curved horns.

He knew I was there, but he arrogantly stood his ground as I came up behind the last bush between us, focussed and pressed the button.

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