Where's Waldo?

Sitting upstairs in our office, I heard a loud commotion from the tree just outside the window - lots of birds all calling and swearing, very agitated.  Clearly there was something up.  So I scanned and scanned and eventually saw green, green scales among the green, green leaves - and a head, staring indignantly at me, clearly not enjoying the attention.  A lovely Green Mamba, maybe 2m (6'+) long, looped and coiled in a dense patch of leaves.

Mambas occur here, but this was my first time to see one near the house.  They are shy, arboreal creatures, moving gracefully through the treetops, hunting mainly for birds.

Jules is convinced he (she?) is after our lovely Kingfishers...

Coast Trip

Jules & I are in chilled mode after a wonderful week away at the coast with a small group of friends.  Let's call it a recce...

We started out at Capricorn, simple yet lovely self-catering bandas near Kigombe Village, about 20 kms north of Pangani.  The highlight here (apart from great seafood BBQs and delicious pizza, general chilling and much-needed R&R) was the birdlife.

Traditional ngalawa at dawn

To the north, there is a shallow bay that drains extensively at low tide, fringed with stands of mangroves, so there are hundreds of plovers, sandpipers and other shorebirds, all feeding enthusiastically in the mud.  In particular, there were lots of Greenshank, Terek & Common Sandpipers, as well as Grey & Ringed plovers.  Plus a colony of 100+ Madagascar Bee-eaters roosting in the mangroves, wheeling and trilling just before they settled for the night.

After Capricorn, we set off for Saadani safari Lodge - a great beach'n'bush destination in Saadani NAtional Park, set on a wide sweep of golden beach near the Wami River.

Beach at Saadani Safari Lodge

Top Saadani treats: tracking Marsh Mongoose, Spotted Hyena and Civet (and Jules...) on the beach each morning;

Tracking on the beach...

- stunning boat trip on the Wami (more fab birding, hippos, crocs and Angola Colobus);

Great White Egret

Spoonbills & Yellow-billed Stork

Angola Colobus

and a game drive to a beautiful palm-fringed pool, much visited by elephant and buffalo, judging from the sign; more R&R.

Here comes trouble...

... oh, and these vervets playing on the makuti roofs in camp!

Ngorongoro Crater and Serengeti

Ngorongoro Crater, a cold, cloudy morning. A male ostrich displays to his consort, an elegant, balletic performance.  She indicates her approval, and they mate.

A lioness lies by the road, hidden from a nearby wildebeest herd by the slope of a drainage ditch.  She focuses on 3 animals that are drifting closer to her as they feed.

Their path changes subtly; decision time. If she waits, they may walk out of range, but if she charges, she risks missing them as they are still a good distance away.  In the end, hunger drives her to make the attempt, and the startled gnus run panic-stricken from her.

Her presence is now known to all, so she decides to move on, try pastures new.  She walks surprisingly fast.  It is warm, approaching mid-day, an indication of how hungry she is.  She spots a lone zebra out in the plain - single animals are easier to approach than herds, which have the benefit of lots of eyes all looking out for threats; alone, the zebra must rely on its own senses to survive. 

She starts her stalk along a small gulley.  The zebra, unaware of the danger, moves onto more open ground.  Suddenly he spots her approach and stares at her, snorting. She realises the game is up and moves off once more.

From a small rise, she spots a line of wildebeest on the move.  She moves fast to intercept them, getting into position in a grassy thicket close to their line of march.  The herd keeps coming – it seems that they must walk right over her.  There is a sudden tawny blur, wildebeest scattering in all directions.  When the dust settles, she is left standing there.  She has missed again.  Frustrated, she lies down in the grass and begins to groom.  It’s not as easy as it looks being King (Queen?) of the Jungle.

Kogakuria Kopje, north Serengeti.  A dead spider lying on the path.  A wasp, shiny blue-black, emerges from a small hole, looks at the spider then continues excavating once more, showering earth particles backwards, like a dog digging.  After a few minutes of energetic excavation, the wasp returns and drags the spider into the hole, which looks far too small.  Somehow the wasp manages.

The spider isn’t dead at all.  The wasp has paralysed it’s prey with a carefully placed sting; it will now lay a single egg on the spider – the grub will be provisioned with plenty of fresh food when it hatches, a neat solution to the problem of food storage.  Not a great outcome for the spider though…

 Mara River.  Thousands of wildebeest are pouring across the river, a great honking, bleating, mooing horde, driven by some ancient urge, the-grass-grows-greener...

Some young animals, having already crossed once, decide to cross back again.  It's the wrong move for one unfortunate - a large, scaly head slices through the water, easily overtaking him.  There is a brief swirl and the water closes over his head.
Video - Mara crossing

On the side of a road,  a magnificent Martial Eagle, feeding on an Egyptian Goose.  He has plucked his prey and eaten most of it - there's not much left but the webbed pink feet.  The eagle pants hard, from the heat and overeating.

Midday, north Serengeti.  It’s hot.  In a thick tangle of branches atop a nearby rock, we can just make out a patch of patterned fur, a resting leopard.  We wait. There is a rustle in the bush and a lithe shape emerges onto the rock nearby, followed by another.  With a mix of flirtatiousness and much snarling and apparent ill will, they mate in the typically perfunctory manner of large cats.
Video - Leopards mating

Within minutes, they mate again – and then again.  But the level of hostility doesn’t abate one jot.

  

Kogakuria, early morning.  We heard lions roaring as we set off, so we are trying to track them down.  We try one set of rocks, where we estimate the sound came from but no joy. Then Jairo spots them, distant specks.  They appear to be on the move.  Hunting?  But all have full bellies.  There is a fresh kill nearby and one small lioness has blood on her neck.

One by one, the ladies move off, until we are left with two adult males and the small lioness.  Suddenly, mayhem – the males attack the female, who defends herself ferociously, lashing out at them.  They circle her, looking of ran opening, as she crouches, ears laid back against her skull, snarling and spitting.  They move in again and she launches herself at them, a blur of whirling claws and teeth.

The males roar at the morning sky, then move off, leaving her to lick her wounds.
Video - Lion fight

Bush Fires - the beauty and the beast

It’s late January.  The short rains, which started so promisingly (and so early), are long gone.  The sun blazes down each day from a blue, blue sky and the wind howls – sucking the last of the moisture out of the soil.

We are headed home after a day in the office.  There is a dense bank of smoke hanging over the park.  As we reach home, we can see it clearly - great grey gouts boiling up from the burning bush below, the underside glowing a dull red in the fading light.

During the night, we keep an eye on the fire to make sure it doesn’t jump the boundary onto our side.  A couple of times, we have to back burn to stop its progress.  It’s all very destructive but weirdly beautiful too. 

Occasionally, birds fly out of the trees as the flames approach; unused to flying at night, they are disorientated and make crash landings in bushes a short hop away.

It’s controlled burning time – the National Park authority has decided to burn the area.  Ostensibly, this is to prevent a massive build up of dead grass and wood, which might lead to a catastrophic hot fire in future; and also to reduce the amount of parasites in the bush.

Hmmm. All very well in principle, but is it a coincidence that there are only 4 or 5 commonly found tree species in this part of the park?  The very species with hardy saplings, capable of withstanding fire even when small.   Surely diversity should be an important goal of park management? Regular annual burning of the same areas mean that the more delicate saplings just do not stand a chance of survival.

Also, this is the time of year when food is plentiful after the short rains: so all kinds of bugs, birds and reptiles are breeding, making the most of the windfall.  How many nests, eggs and hatchlings went up in smoke?

And finally, even the dead wood and fallen leaves and old grass have a role to play within the system, as protection, food, breeding areas. If it is burnt every year, this whole section of bio diversity is likewise gone

There is no doubt that burning is an important management tool for park wardens; it is equally certain that it is overused in many parts of Tanzania. With us, it is the same areas that are burnt each year.

Bush fires set for three days in a row and finally, one jumped our double firebreak, aided by a strong wind. Luckily, we had enough people on hand to beat it out before it took hold in one of the wilderness areas of our plot

On the plus side: what’s the betting that the ellies will pay us a visit soon?  With so much burnt, they should be looking for better foraging grounds… karibuni sana!

Western Tanzania

We had a very weird spell of weather in October and early November – tremendous rains, unusually early and heavy.  It was very patchy, so while everything at home was green and flourishing, and there was heavy flooding in parts of Serengeti, large swathes of Maasailand remained brown and parched.

So, November came around and with it a group of old friends from our days in Turkey.  We were headed out west, for a week in Katavi and Mahale.  Katavi will be at it’s best at this time, won’t it?  The long months of hot and dry mean that large numbers of game will be congregated near the few springs, so game viewing will be a cinch.  Except for that early rain (see above).  The whole park was freshly painted in luxuriant greens, the Katuma River was flowing and the air felt vibrant with life. 

Many of the hippos had moved out of the springs at Ikuu, their dry season refuge, and back into the newly formed pools on the Katuma.  The crocs were slowly coming back to life, although many were still more or less somnolent in their riverbank holes.

The downside to all this, of course, was that much of the game, released from the tyranny of the dry season, had scattered to the four winds.

It was gorgeous and we did find just about everything we wanted to see, but we had to work pretty hard to do so!

We found a lovely pride of lion with cubs (the Chada Pride), and followed them for a couple of hours through the bush as they made their way to the river, presumably changing hunting grounds.  They were lean and hungry looking, but with a healthy glow.  We stayed with them for some time, hoping for a hunt (they were clearly ready for action), but nothing came of it.

It was the same story with elephant – when we finally caught up with a herd, we had a long visit with them, following slowly as they fed through the bush.  There was a tiny calf with them, but we only got brief glimpses as Mama kept her close by her side.

It was strange to see so few elephant, but the mystery was solved when some of our group spotted a large herd, several hundred they reckoned, waaaay out on Katisunga Plain.  Too far to go and see them, sadly, but nice to know they’re there.  And always nice to solve the puzzle!

This happens frequently: elephant clans are forced to break up into small family groups during the dry season, because of the lack of resources, but when the rains start and food and water are plentiful, they gather once more into large groups.

Not long after we left, a herd of several hundred was seen just in front of Chada Camp – very likely the same clan.

One of our Chada highlights was this scorpion, found by one of the camp waiters.  Scorpions have this weird undead glow under ultraviolet light – perfect material for nightmares!

All too soon, our time was up and we upped sticks and moved on to Mahale Mountains. 

Again, the recent rain meant that the forest was bursting with new life.  Gorgeous butterflies flitting through the clearings and fresh new leaf everywhere.  The miombo woodland on the mountain slopes was resplendent in shades of copper, crimson and brilliant fresh greens.

We had high expectations of our time with the chimps: as you probably know, the Alpha male of Mahale’s ‘M’ community was killed by his own kind back in July (??).  Pimu was a thug who ruled by brute force and terror, and in the end, his subjects rose up against him.  If only Gaddafi had taken heed of this sorry tale…

Anyway, we were intrigued to find out how the succession struggle was working out.  There are 2 contenders: Alofu, the former alpha, deposed by Pimu; and Primus, a young buck with his eye on the top spot. In the event, we had unexpectedly mellow viewing, consisting of peaceable group grooming sessions and youngsters endlessly at play. Endlessly watchable.

We are still waiting to hear who will take on Pimu’s mantle, but we can expect a great deal of manoeuvring and wheeling & dealing before the dust finally settles on this saga.

Mara River and the Selous

 Q: What do you call it when, having waited patiently for several hours to watch the primeval drama of a herd of wildebeest crossing the Mara River, all you get in the end is a female and her calf picking their way across, without a care in the world?  Whistling a jaunty tune no doubt…

A: A double crossing.

Wildebeest are just like that sometimes and there’s not a lot you can do about it. You feel like rushing out and yelling at them, waving your arms about to start the process off.  But first off, that would scare them off completely; and secondly – we just don’t do that kind of thing.

So we just sit and wait. 

Finally, a huge herd gathers on the bank, full of nervous energy and staring at the other side; more are streaming in behind them, the pressure is building inexorably.  Yes, this could definitely be it! The level of excitement in the car rises several notches. I start to plan my approach to the river, once the crossing is well and truly under way… any minute now…

And then another vehicle goes past us, into the middle of the herd, drives in a wide circle scattering the lot of them, then comes up to us to ask if we know, by any chance, where the lioness with the kill is?  Well yes we do, as a matter of fact and what the @$#@***@!#$%!!!!!

I exaggerate of course: along with our double-crossing, we had plenty of superb wildlife viewing.  Memorable highlights included 3 cheetah brothers who had recently killed & fed, looking as though they had swallowed a basketball apiece; mating lions on top of a kopje; a Pennant-winged Nightjar (go on, you know you’re dying to ask!  Well, some of you at any rate…) and a musth bull elephant seeing off a younger rival.

But the real icing on the cake happened right in camp.  That night we had lions roaring close to camp, and in the early hours they killed a wildebeest about 100m out.  There followed a wonderful cacophony, as lions jostled with lions for their share, then took on the hyenas that had been drawn by the noise.  I’m not sure there was a lot of sleeping happening, but then who needs sleep with all that commotion going on?

At dawn, before heading out, we crept around the camp looking for an overview, to be rewarded by a glimpse of a large well-fed male lion leaving the thicket where the pride had been feasting.

***

After Serengeti, it was time to head south, to the vast Selous Game Reserve.  Our first stop was Beho Beho Camp, and we went off pretty much straightaway on the first of many wonderful walks.  This was a gentle hour-long womble, but we had fine up-close-and-personal views of elephant and a jewel-like Malachite Kingfisher in gorgeous evening light before sundowners on a viewpoint near camp.

Next morning was all about lions.  My favourite moment came when a big male, after mating right in front of the car and spray-marking a bush, turned and walked straight towards us.  This was by far our closest encounter (he pretty much brushed against the side of our open land cruiser, within easy touching distance) and I was watching the reactions of our 3 Intrepid Ladies.  Eyes opened wider and wider as he approached and all photographic activity was suspended.  In an effort to reassure, I said something along the lines of ‘Don’t worry, he’s not interested in us’.  Angela hissed back: ‘ARE YOU SURE???’  It was perfect– and we all made it, even if nobody recorded the moment when he stopped and locked his golden gaze on Grace’s eyes before going on his regal way once more.

***

Next day was the beginning of Our Big Adventure – a walking safari, taking us from Beho Beho to the banks of the mighty Rufiji.

We left early, heading east from camp, to the hot spring, where we stopped for a wallow in this gorgeous setting, a series of steamy, sulphur-stinking pools in a rugged valley surrounded by a graceful fringe of wild date palms.

After lunch in a shady spot by Lake Segesse, with water birds and peacefully grazing animals nearby, we settled down for a snooze – our camp crew had thoughtfully laid out bedrolls for us.  A gentle evening stroll took us to our fly camp by Tagalala, where we sipped our sundowners as hippos sighed and African Skimmers unzipped the mirror-silver surface of the lake with their strangely elongated lower mandibles, trying to snag small fish.

Photo by Matt... I'm SO jealous!

Having survived the night, it was time for our longest walk – a full morning’s hike to our next camp, Kogota, a remote spot right on the Rufiji.  En route, we spotted a lone buffalo bull, but were mystified when he crashed off into he bush as we started to approach; it just wasn’t possible that he had seen or heard us. A careful scan revealed a pride of lion lolling in the shade of a tree.  There was no way to get closer without scaring them off, so we went on our way.

It was pretty hot by the time we hit camp towards mid-day, so the first glimpse of the Rufiji was very welcome.  The three Intrepid Ladies sank gratefully onto the bedrolls thoughtfully laid out in the shade by our camp crew, and I had to wheedle a little to persuade them to join me for lunch!

Stiegler’s Gorge was our next stop, a 2-hour boat trip upstream from camp.  Named after a hunter killed here by an elephant in the early 20^th century, this is a rugged gash carved through the sandstone hills over the millennia.   It is a serenely beautiful place, especially as you drift downstream under the great ramparts on each side.  We were lucky enough to spot a troop of Colobus monkeys and a Crowned Hawk-Eagle, high up in a Sterculia tree. 

Back at Kogota once more, we had another delicious lunch followed by the traditional siesta and a wander 

All of a sudden, there was a loud moaning, roaring sound, coming from thick bush very close by.  Hippo?  Elephant?  No – mating lions!  We waited a few minutes, and sure enough, there it was again.  So we had a couple of large honeymooning cats within a stone’s throw of camp… but no way to get to see them, as the bush is so dense right there.  Still, it was terrific to feel their presence so close by.

Our walking safari came to an end that afternoon, with a short drift by boat downstream to Sand Rivers - our first view of the lodge was in gorgeous evening light as we drifted slowly with the current.

The lodge was the perfect place to unwind after our adventures over the past few days; and there was still time for one more.  As we walked out for sundowners on nearby Lizzie’s Hill, we watched a lioness striding along on the flat ground below.  She was either unaware or unfazed by our presence.  The perfect ending to a lovely trip.

Notes:

Nightjars are nocturnal insect-eating birds, which means that they compete with bats - a tough challenge!  Ground dwellers, they are all a mottled brown, blending in well with fallen leaves around them.  In the US they are often called ‘Night hawks’ or (occasionally) goatsuckers: they are believed to creep up on unwary she-goats and suck milk on the sly!  Funnily enough, some Tanzanians share this belief.

Mature bull elephants go into a condition known as ‘musth’ once a year, characterised by high testosterone levels, when they actively seek out oestrous females.  They are more aggressive at these times. 

Firesticks - the movie

Here is a link to my vimeo account where I hope to post clips on a regular basis. This was shot at Kakesio, on the escarpment overlooking Lake Eyasi.

What to do when you have left the matches behind....

Click on the title of this post and it should take you there!

Hard times ahead

My apologies in advance… this post might make gloomy reading.  If you feel like a good giggle, I suggest you stop reading this now and come back to it another time.

Apparently, more than 800 rhinos were poached across Africa last year, including 333 in South Africa alone.  (For more on this story, follow the link below)

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20110325/ap_on_bi_ge/rhino_poaching

With figures like that, can there be any hope for rhinos in the wild?  South Africa is light years ahead of the rest of Africa in the sophistication of its anti-poaching.  Terrifyingly, we even lost one from our tiny Serengeti population, soon after a trumpeted reintroduction of five animals from South Africa.

http://www.wildlifeextra.com/go/news/serengeti-poaching011.html#cr

There are persistent rumours that more of the Serengeti rhinos were poached around this time, but nothing concrete.

The simple fact of the matter is that rhino horn is an incredibly valuable commodity: ounce for ounce, it is dearer than gold. With many people living on less than a dollar a day, the temptation to cash in on the goldmine on the nose of this bumbling blind behemoth is just too great to resist.

Here’s a scary quote for you: ‘Tanzania’s elephant population declined by more than 30,000 elephants between 2006 and 2009, primarily from poaching to supply black-market ivory to Asia.’ http://appablog.wordpress.com/2010/03/12/elephant-poaching-and-illegal-ivory-trade-out-of-control-proposed-ivory-sales-increase-threat-to-conservation-efforts/

One of the main forces driving this new upswing in trophy poaching is rapid economic growth in the Far East; many Asians are finding they have cash to burn for the first time, and ivory and rhino horn are among the products they covet.  It is fair to assume that this will change: as time goes by, the younger generations will turn against this trade, much as has happened in the West.  Political correctness will come to the rhino’s rescue.  But how long will this take, and what will be left of our wild places by then?

The crucial thing is awareness.  International outrage is the only force that can hope to put a stop.  On this front the tide is beginning to turn, with people like the artist / photographer Nick Brandt using his powerful images to publicise the massacre:

http://www.biglifeafrica.org/

Several of you sent this link to me - many thanks to all of you.

No pictures from me this time:  if you don’t mind, I think I’ll just let Nick’s photos do the talking.

Wildlife Corridors: the migrating herds need them more than ever

When Tarangire National Park was gazetted, back in 1970, few foresaw the looming population explosion, or the farms that would spring up in what were then, important wet-season dispersal areas for migrating herbivores.


That has now come to pass. Populations of migrants such as wildebeest and zebra have crashed, largely cut off from their ancestral calving grounds.

AWF (African Wildlife Foundation) recognised the need to protect important game corridors outside National Parks, in order to keep the old migration routes open. An important (if controversial) move was the purchase of Manyara Ranch, a 44,000-acre chunk of land occupying a central position in the vital Kwakuchinja Corridor, connecting Tarangire to the nearby Lake Manyara National Park.
http://www.awf.org/content/solution/detail/3505/

This is an attempt to achieve that holy grail of wildlife management – involving the local community in a sustainable conservation model, to the benefit of both people and wildlife. I wish them well. National Parks in Tanzania are, on the whole, in pretty good shape. Sure, there are inevitable issues, such as poaching. But I think most people are reasonably confident that, in 50 years or so, the parks will still be wildlife havens, providing enormous enjoyment to many visitors – and vital dollars to the national coffers. The future for wildlife outside the protected areas is much less certain.

There are similar projects afoot elsewhere in the region: north of the border, in Kenya, the Northern Rangelands Trust works closely with local communities, helping them to set up conservancies with fancy lodges so they can benefit from their wildlife resources. So far, NRT is involved in projects involving 15 communities, thereby helping to conserve hundreds of thousands of hectares of land in northern Kenya.
http://nrt-kenya.org/home.html

Here in Tanzania, high flying hedge fund manager and hunter / conservationist Paul Tudor Jones has been investing heavily in the Grumeti Game Reserve and Ikorongo Game Control Area, two degraded hunting blocks, lying just outside the western boundary of Serengeti National Park. The project has had its ups and downs but the proof of the pudding is in the eating: a few years ago, you would have been hard pushed to find much game in this area, so bad was the poaching. Now, it offers first-class viewing, with plenty of important species such as cats and elephant as well as hordes of plains game. Importantly, it now serves as an excellent buffer for the western Serengeti, which has historically suffered from massive poaching and wood cutting. And their conservation arm is leading the charge in the planned re-introduction of black rhino into the Serengeti ecosystem, to bolster the existing population.
http://www.lexdon.com/article/Grumeti_Reserves_and_Paul_Tudor/49004.html

What these projects have in common is the recognition that, outside the parks, successful conservation requires involving local communities and relies on the profit motive: I will protect that which benefits me. In other words, enlightened self-interest.

Contrast this with the situation elsewhere, in areas beyond park boundaries and lacking free spending conservation-minded billionaires: wildlife numbers are plummeting; the mechanisms and methods employed by wildlife authorities are, on the whole, outdated and simply not up to the task of conservation in the modern era. A lot of stick and not much carrot. And did I mention leaden bureaucracy?

Official policy has it that wildlife is a tremendous resource, a precious source of revenue, something to be cherished and nurtured – a blessing. The reality on the ground is somewhat messier: wild animals eat your crops and livestock; they are a threat to kids on their way to school, or women collecting firewood; and it is virtually impossible to make money from this ‘resource’, thanks to the convoluted and expensive bureaucratic procedures mentioned above. A neat example: a friend running a local NGO recently told me that the cost of creating a WMA (Wildlife Management Area) which is the legal process for Villages to regain control over their natural resources and develop commercial community toursim projects, could run up to a quarter of a million US dollars. Villages in rural Tanzania don’t HAVE that kind of money, which means that conservation can only happen in conjunction with large NGO’s with deep pockets.

Which means, once again, dependence on foreign aid…
What it really means is that wild animals are only really of any value dead, cut up into pieces and sold off to townies as bush meat.

So bring on the new private initiatives: if the game is to survive outside the parks, we will need this kind of approach.

Tanzanian Tit bits

Jules watched a fascinating spectacle recently - in the kitchen garden. While collecting some lunch salad, she noticed lots of unusual slugs balanced right on the ends of leaves and branches of the garden. Each large bunch of parsley and rocket had about 12 to 15 large, flat, brown slugs with a white stripe down their backs. We had never seen these slugs before, being much more used to the grey, slimy, unappetizing ones that haunt any vegetable patch. Then she realised that the whole garden was seething with literally hundreds of thousands of siafu - soldier ants. The slugs were making a desperate attempt to escape these voracious predators, but in vain. The ants swarmed all over them and pulled them down to the ground and killed them, feeding on the corpses. Jules was fortunately more successful at evading the little blighters.

The Siafu carried on their bonanza for about 24 hours and sure enough, we had no slug problem after that – nor termite problem, nor aphid problem. A somewhat violent, but effective, natural pest control.


Siafu live in colonies of millions. They are so efficient at what they do that they often have to move the colony, having eaten or displaced all suitable prey in the vicinity.

On a different scale, the ellies have been very much around of late. The locals say its because the forest up higher is full of siafu on the move, and elephant hate being bitten in the trunk by them, so they move down to the drier areas. I suspect the reason is actually more prosaic - the maize crops are ripe in the fields. Too much temptation. One of our bigger acacias is now in permanent horizontal mode as a direct result.
However, it is true that elephant do not like getting the ants on the delicate end of their trunk. Research just published recently suggested that the ants set off in agressive self defense and  focus in on the mucus at the end of the trunk.....and then bite.