Unlikely Friendships : 47 Remarkable Stories From the Animal Kingdom (13 page)

{K
ENYA
, 2002}

In the Samburu National Reserve of Kenya, the East African bush unfolds in thick scrubland and grassy hills, with muddy rivers curling like ribbons through the plains. It is a land of hippos and elephants, of zebra and giraffe, where big cats and squawking monkeys drink from the same ephemeral watering holes and where nomadic herders bring cattle and goats to gnaw grasses from the dry earth. Here Nature veered from her customary course, and a legendary animal tale was born.

It was almost biblical: a lion and a baby antelope lying down together in peace. Local people said it was a message from God. They named the lion Kamunyak, meaning “blessed one.” They came to the bush to bear witness to the strange pairing, and
hoped the wonderment would last.

Saba Douglas-Hamilton, a social anthropologist and conservationist for Save the Elephants, followed the animals for more than two weeks as their relationship grew. She watched as a normally fierce predator protected its prey. And she witnessed how it all ended.

The antelope was an oryx just finding its legs. The cat was a young lioness still pink-nosed with youth—too young to have given birth and lost cubs, but old enough to know her prey and to hunt and kill it. For some reason, this young lion, having become separated from her pride, adopted the oryx “as if it were her cub,” says Saba. The two walked the land side by side and slept together, one an extension of the other.

For a time, the lioness seemed conflicted by two instincts—maternal and predatory. But her mothering won out, and she kept the oryx close at all times, licking it gently and treating it as her own young. And the oryx, apparently having not fully imprinted on its own kind and not aware that this was a predator at its side, wasn't fearful, and even tried to suckle from the big cat.

But a growing antelope needs rich, buttery antelope milk in its first few months, which no lion can provide. So the oryx limped toward starvation. The lion refused to leave the oryx long enough to hunt for herself. So she, too, was going hungry, becoming more lethargic with each passing day. As Saba spent time observing the pair, she sought explanations from lion experts
around the world. But all were puzzled; no such pairing was known in the wild before. Though young lions will sometimes “play” with a captured animal for a time before eating it, this didn't seem a game. “Kamunyak and the calf are a living paradox…. Their intimacy defies the laws of nature,” Saba said. And both would likely die as a result of it.

Locals wanted to help the animals, to try to feed them, to preserve the marvelous duo. An attempt to give meat to the lioness failed; she ignored the offering and went back to sleep. But the relationship would soon end. One hot day, with Kamunyak weak and resting in the grass, the oryx strayed out of sight, and a male lion snatched it up and carried it away. Kamunyak sprang up and followed but was helpless to assist. She sniffed the blood of “her baby” in the grass. She crouched down and watched the male devour it.

The next day, as if snapped out of her strange reverie, the lioness finally hunted again, eating her fill on a warthog and regaining her strength. But she didn't return to the normal life of a lion. Observers say in the coming months, Kamunyak adopted baby oryxes five more times—all for brief periods—before she herself disappeared from the area, adding to her mystery.

What lay behind this extraordinary scenario? Saba suggests the lion lost her pride at a critical time in her development. “Her trauma probably fueled her quirky obsession.” Whatever stimulated the big cat's behavior, Kamunyak remains forever an enigma to behavioral scientists and a beautiful curiosity to the rest of us.

{C
HINA
, 2007}

Off the southern coast of Chine, on an island nestled in the Pearl River estuary of Guangdong Province, the rhesus monkey is king. Several hundred rhesus macaques, as they're also known, are legally protected, along with pangolins and pythons, in the Neilingding Island–Futian National Nature Reserve, a 2,000-acre wildlife haven lush with mangrove forest. It was there that one of those monkeys made an unexpected feathered friend.

According to Luo Hang, who heads the animal protection station on the mountainous isle, one day in September 2007, a white dove landed on the ground near the station, and lingered. It seemed to have lost its mate. White doves are often seen as
symbols of peace and long life, and Luo and his staff welcomed the animal into their midst. They adopted the bird, which they thought was about three years old, feeding it corn kernels and keeping it in an iron cage at the station. The bird had a metal band around its leg, so Luo assumed it was part of a bird migration study and should be released at the change of seasons.

While patroling the island—which is famous not only for its nature park but for having greeted the first known European-flagged boat to China in 1513—one of the reserve staff came across a baby macaque. It was alone, distressed, and very weak. Not more than three months old, it was far too young to survive on its own in the forest and extremely vulnerable to pythons and other predators. The reserve staff took the little animal, wide-eyed and clingy, back to the station, where it quickly met and hit it off with the feathered visitor already in residence.

For two months, the macaque and the dove shared a space and delighted the staff and visitors. They snacked on corn. The monkey turned pieces over in his little hands as he nibbled; the bird pecked on fallen bits behind him. The monkey chattered; the dove cooed. And at night they slept in the cage together, each the other's pillow and blanket. Luo Hang says, “The monkey was sometimes naughty and seemed to make fun of the dove,” but he showed affection, too. “If only the dove had hands to hug him back.” It was a joyful scene, and people came from everywhere to see the way the odd couple lived together and looked after each other.

But the staff knew both animals would be better off in the wild, and so they prepared to set them free. The dove was released first, and off it flew. Luo then returned to the place where the macaque was first found, and he was pleased to find the monkey's family once again in its territory. The baby rejoined the troop without a hitch. With both monkey and bird back in their natural environments, one can only wonder if they will cross paths in the future. If they do, will there be a gesture of recognition?