A July morning in the Okavango can be cold. The air was still after days of wind preceding a cold front that had swept up from the Cape. The stars were still bright with Orion prominently displayed overhead as I awoke my usual 15 minutes before the guests were awakened by their tent stewards. The mess staff were going quietly and efficiently about their business getting breakfast ready. I was greeted at the fire by Barnes, my camp manager and majordomo. The fire was necessary on this morning and the percolated coffee was a blissful start to what would turn out to be an epic day. We exchanged greetings and then discussed what we had heard during the night to better decide what direction I should head out on the morning game drive. Having worked together for over 20 years in the bush with Barnes, he and I have a very easy relationship built on countless experiences together.

It should be noted that the general consensus among respected conservation groups and wildlife management organizations in Africa put the number of lions living in the wild at about 15,000. An iconic species that every safari guest wants to see, it is an unfortunate fact that lion sightings are not as assured as they were even 10 years ago.

Barnes and I both acknowledged the unmistakable territorial roar of a male roll across the lagoon in front of camp. I was going to have my work cut out. I knew there were very limited roads in that direction and lots of swampy ground. Usually, with one or even two other Land Cruisers on safari together, the prospect of getting stuck was not a worry. Alone, because of my small group size, I would have to be more cautious.

When everyone had warmed themselves by the fire, consumed some hot coffee and even hotter oatmeal laced with a variety of preferences, I chivvied everyone to get going. I did not want to lose the lion because we had been tardy.

After driving 15 minutes to where I thought the lion had called from, I turned the engine off and stopped to listen, climbing on the roof to get a better direction fix. Within a minute he called again, further away than I had anticipated. The cold still air had most likely contributed to better acoustic transmission. I headed toward a tree line the other side of which I knew to be very wet. Once again I stopped to listen. Anticipation high. Hippos grunted from the river on the other side of the forest. Francolin squawked from the sage brush surrounding us, then stillness. I was about to climb off the roof to start scanning for tracks when we heard him again. Loud, close.

Bush bashing through the tree line we emerged at the river. An open floodplain stretched before us and playing on a termite hill were 7 cubs from two different litters. Three lioness lay in a comfortable patch of grass and the huge male lion whose territorial calls we had followed, walked purposefully toward the group.

I breathed an inward sigh of relief, happy that I did not have to ford the river – yet. We watched the cubs frolic and cavort around the adults; chasing tails, tripping each other over, and running off with pieces of straw for close to an hour. Suddenly the cubs ran off and swam across the river. The lioness seemed oblivious. Curious, I weighed the options. Stay and hope the cubs return or start looking for a place to cross the river. I chose the second option and found a safe, sandy crossing point where the water level was not so deep that it would start flowing in thorough the open windscreen. But by the time I reached the opposite bank the cubs were nowhere to be seen and the adults had now noticed the cubs absence.

After calling for the cubs with their distinctive mewl, the lioness became concerned. Arriving on our side of the river to the accompanying sound of multiple camera shutters firing in rapid mode, they trotted off looking for the cubs. I followed through the bush at a discreet distance, my Land Cruiser making easy work of the rough terrain, and within a few hundred meters we found the cubs again, only this time there were five more lioness.

Instead of settling down, the entire pride set off at a fast walking pace with a determined air about them. Once again I followed, leap frogging occasionally to allow my guests to get frontal shots of 16 lions of various ages.

Within a few kilometers, we came across the answer to their behavior. A ninth lioness had just caught a zebra. It gives you an idea how good their hearing is! For a reason that confounds me the male did not pile in and dominate the kill but allowed the females and cubs to eat first. There was much snarling and shoving as nine lioness and seven cubs began tearing the zebra apart and we watched until we too had had our fill of gore.

As I drove back to camp, I marveled that in the world today it is still possible to witness such things. Oh, and did I mention? Because of COVID there was not another safari vehicle in sight. For one beautiful morning my guests and I had the Moremi Game Reserve all to ourselves!