The advice to fight back when attacked by a black bear is almost always wrong.                                             

Photo above by Vic Schendel: A bear behaving in a defensive manner makes threatening noises and mock-charges; a predatory bear, on the other hand, moves quietly and purposefully.

With the North American black bear population closing in on a million animals and more people than ever living and recreating in bear country, conflicts between humans and bears are at an all-time high in many areas of the U.S and Canada. Although the subject of potential black bear danger has never been more germane, it is muddled by misinformation, confusion, and outright error. As I pointed out in part one of this article, a careful look at the best facts and studies shows that, despite some extreme and opposing beliefs, black bears are neither “mostly harmless pests,” nor are they “relentlessly predatory killers of people.” They do need to be taken seriously as powerful, intelligent animals that can sometimes be dangerous. 

In this column I want to look at more key facts and, with expert help, discuss the best ways to handle various encounters and attack scenarios. First, I need to review some essential bear-safety terminology, so that what comes next can be fully understood and applied in the field. Particularly important is the distinction between defensive interactions and attacks and non-defensive ones. A defensive bear is one that feels threatened in some way, and is attacking (or putting on an aggressive display, maybe false-charging) to eliminate the threat. This might be a sow protecting her cubs, or a lone animal that feels hemmed in or encroached upon, as when someone suddenly appears too close. With grizzlies (brown bears), protecting a food source like a carcass might be another common defensive trigger, though this doesn’t seem to occur often with black bears. 

“Non-defensive”–a rather clunky term–is a bear that does not feel threatened, is not defending itself, but is approaching you by its own volition. It could be merely curious, looking for food, dominance testing, or–most rarely–coming at you as a predator. Brown bears, being more aggressive and easily triggered, make more defensive attacks than black bears. (An “attack” is when actual contact is made–not merely a charge.) And because they are fiercer and often larger animals, brown bears more frequently kill people or cause severe injury during defensive attacks.

However, according to a recent study by Janel Marie Scharhag, of 210 non-fatal black bear attacks occurring in contiguous America between 2000 and 2017, more than half (52 percent) were defensive, and most of these were by females with cubs. The majority resulted in minor injuries, but a significant 19 percent were rated “severe.” Interestingly, of attempted predatory attacks (only 15 percent of the total, nearly all by male bears), just 12 percent had severe-injury outcomes. These findings have a number of implications, but one of them is that defensive assaults by female black bears, and especially sows with cubs, are worth taking seriously as a potential danger. 

A few more relevant facts from Scharhag’s study will help prepare us for practical readiness in the field. For instance, 69 percent of attacks occurred in “frontcountry” (vs. backcountry) locations. Frontcountry includes “wildland-urban interface” (WUI) settings and accounts for a large portion of human-bear conflict situations, such as bears attacking people in their front yards or garages, and in such unlikely places as Pasadena or suburban New Jersey. 

Attacks in frontcountry and WUI settings also make one wonder about the old “99 percent of bears don’t want trouble with people” cliche, since these places are also prime locations for the serious problems of habituation and/or food-conditioning. A food-conditioned bear is one accustomed to finding human-created edibles in state parks, campgrounds, picnic areas, garbage dumpsters, alleys with trash cans, and backyards with birdfeeders, compost piles, pet food, and other consumables; while an habituated bear–which might also be food-conditioned–is one that no longer has a natural fear of people, no longer feels the need to run away and perhaps is willing to move closer, or move someone aside, to seek a meal or whatever else it desires. Scharhag found that food or garbage “attractants” were present at 64 percent of attack locations, and that in 74 percent of attacks there had been a prior “food reward” for the bear or previous evidence that a bruin was using the area. This was especially true (93 percent of the time) with attacks that occurred while someone was camping–which is further proof that keeping a “clean camp” (no food, food odors, garbage, or other attractants nearby) is vital. Camping was the most common activity of attack victims (44 percent), followed, rather surprisingly, by being at home (21 percent). Seventy-three percent of those attacked while camping were in a tent. A common scenario was someone waking up while being bitten through the tent wall when a body part (usually leg, arm, or head) was pushing out against the fabric. The bear detects the bulge, investigates, and takes a bite, which might be more exploratory than predatory. Usually a shout or involuntary scream drives the animal away, but injuries, sometimes serious, do occur–which is why I make it a habit and advise others to keep all body parts at least one foot away from tent walls when bedding down for the night. 

Turning now to actual black bear encounters, I must warn that this is a subject fraught with misconceptions, misinformation, and outright bad advice, including from “authority” sources such as some biologists and spokespeople for state and national agencies, advice that can get, and probably has already gotten, people severely injured or killed. Space doesn’t allow sharing the many quotes I could offer here, but the most frequently repeated instructions are that when encountering a black bear one should “be aggressive and loud, yell, wave your arms, throw things,” to intimidate the animal; and if attacked, “never play dead or the bear will keep attacking or feed on you; always fight back as hard as you can…” and so on.

Since the advice on this topic is so muddled, I sought the aid of a longtime friend and bear mentor, John Hechtel, to make sure I was untangling things correctly. John has been a bear specialist and biologist in Alaska for more than forty years, and has lectured and advised widely on bear science and safety. 

He immediately agreed that sane information on bear attacks, and black bears specifically, is badly needed.

“I’ve been frustrated about the [advice] to play dead with a grizzly and [always] fight a black bear,” he said, “especially after we’ve tried to stress that it’s not the species, but whether the bear is acting defensively or not. There is ample evidence that grizzlies can be at least as predatory [toward humans] as black bears, and black bear defensive attacks, often provoked by dogs, are also well-documented.”

Defensive black bears, feeling threatened, tend to do one of two things: run away (or scoot up a nearby tree, which is another form of escaping), or put on an aggressive show. If you unintentionally startle a sow with cubs, the bear might react by huffing, grunting, growling, clacking its teeth, ground-swatting, or even making one or more false charges, swerving away well before contact. But–and this is key–with a defensive bear of any species, the last thing you want is to increase the sense of threat by doing what is usually advised: yell, get large, wave your arms, and throw rocks or sticks. The bear is already disturbed and is responding aggressively; there’s no sense in possibly escalating that aggression into a full-blown attack.

“I’m a firm believer in the ‘stand your ground’ approach,” says Hechtel. “The simplest and best thing to do in most encounters is to do very little.” This precludes shouting, arm-waving, or trying to run away or climb a tree. If you can slow down the interaction, that’s all to the good; it tends to make the bear less sure of itself. 

“Above all,” he says, “don’t overreact [by running, screaming, etc.]; don’t make things worse.” Even if a bruin is charging or running at you, the longer you stand still (preferably with bear spray or other weapon ready to deploy), the better the chances it will stop short or veer off without making contact. 

But what if it keeps coming and actually knocks you down? The most common advice is to fight back as hard as you can and “never play dead with a black bear,” but Hechtel disagrees. Once again, with a defensive attack, the idea is to remove the sense of threat; fighting back does the opposite. Sharhag’s findings support this. In a large number of defensive-attack incidents when the person fought back, the injury-outcomes were significantly more severe than when the person did not fight back. Sharhag concludes that when a black bear is “acting defensively, playing dead is more effective at stopping an attack and results in less severe injuries.”

But what about those occasional cases where a bear seemed to turn predatory after a person tried to play dead? I admit these had me wondering. But Hechtel made an important point: “I think you have to distinguish between appropriate play-dead scenarios versus people doing it prematurely, or with non-defensive bears. People wrongly playing dead definitely have resulted in predatory attacks, but rarely from defensive to predatory.” 

An example of “wrong” would be someone who flops down and lies still before a bear has touched them. That virtually invites the animal to come closer and investigate, possibly take an exploratory bite, and then shift to predatory or scavenger-feeding mode. The time to drop is only after a defensive bear has actually hit you and is knocking you down. Then you follow play-dead protocol. (Face down on your stomach, legs partly spread for stability, hands interlaced behind your neck and lower skull.)

There are some instances where this strategy fails, Hechtel admits, “but far fewer cases than where fighting defensive bears resulted in extended attacks and more serious injuries. If 90-plus percent of the time playing dead works best, that’s the best advice you can give for a defensive attack where either a black or brown bear makes contact. You’re playing the odds, but going with much better odds. The numbers of cases where this fails are small and are the exceptions, as far as we can tell.” 

Hechtel adds an important proviso: “I also think the need to ever play dead with either species is very rare, not a commonplace response to common bear confrontations. Standing your ground with apparent confidence is huge. And access to a deterrent, which can give people the confidence to do the right thing, is also huge.”

What about “non-defensive” and particularly the less common predatory attacks? Studies by Stephen Herrero and others have shown that the behaviors initially displayed in these cases are quite different and recognizable. Instead of the noise–huffing, teeth-clacking, growling–and visible agitation of a startled or defensive animal, predatory bears (most often lone males) are usually quiet, purposeful, and intent. They might approach directly, with a steady plod, looking right at you; or they might half-circle as they watch and assess, and then close in. Attacks can be fast and silent until contact. Facing this kind of bear, you might still want to begin with the confident “stand your ground” attitude, to see if that alone dissuades the animal by showing you are not going to be timid, easy prey. If the bear keeps approaching, now is the time to put on your own aggressive display, raising your arms to look large, yelling in a deep (not shrill) voice, throwing things and picking up or using a weapon, however crude. You do not play dead with a non-defensive or predatory bear (of any species); you fight back as hard as you can, even if only with fists and fingernails, going for the sensitive nose and eyes. 

With any incoming bear, the best remedy is to have a proper “deterrent” at hand. Pepper spray works on black bears and it’s wise to keep a canister within easy reach. According to one study, spray has about a 90 percent efficacy at stopping aggressive behaviors with both defensive and non-defensive animals. As for handguns, they can be effective if you can deploy one quickly and hit what you’re aiming at despite the surprise and fear and adrenaline of the moment. One problem even then is the lethality factor. With a sow and cubs (the most likely to make a defensive charge or attack), would you rather shoot or spray the bear away? I’d rather spray and have everyone live happily ever after. This also involves much less trouble than dealing with a wounded or dead bruin, legal issues, orphaned cubs, and so on. I would, however, prefer to have an appropriate handgun available for dealing with an animal that breaks into a tent, camper, or dwelling, and for aggressive night-bears in general.

 A closing thought: Focusing on a specific danger can enlarge it out of actual proportion. So I want to offer a bit of perspective by noting that, while I’ve come upon hundreds of black bears over the years, the vast majority of such experiences don’t even merit the term “encounter.” More like “sightings,” or “fleeting meetings.” I’ve had a few tense moments, but outside of assisting with problem-bear management situations, I’ve only had to draw my spray or gun twice, without firing either time. So clearly, black bears are not a dire threat one need constantly fear or worry about. But they are powerful, opportunistic forager/predators, and they definitely can be dangerous. Anyone who venture outdoors in bear country is well-advised to keep this fundamental reality in mind. 

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Much of what you’ve heard from “experts” about black bears is wrong.

Photo above by Vic Schendel

How dangerous are black bears? Do they really pose a significant threat to humans, or are they a benign species that wants little to do with people, except perhaps to cadge food from them when an opportunity arises?

These apparently simple questions evoke conflicting responses. On one side are those who believe “there’s no need to be concerned or worried about black bears. They aren’t like grizzlies, which are to be feared. Black bears can be pests around a camp, but they aren’t dangerous or aggressive and rarely if ever harm anyone.” Some professional biologists seem to concur, offering assurances that black bears “just don’t want to attack people. They’re basically timid animals. Ninety-nine percent of them will run away at the sight of a person.”

On the other side are those who say that black bears are extremely dangerous; they actually attack and kill more people than grizzlies and are much more predacious. In fact, according to one writer, “when black bears attack it is almost always an act of predation.” Meaning: the bears consider humans prey and attack to kill for food.

Who’s right? I will try to attempt a few clarifications of this rather confusing subject, which is more relevant than ever, since both black bear numbers and human/bear conflicts are at an all-time high. 

There is no doubting that Ursus americanus is thriving throughout most of its range, which has expanded to include 41 American states and all but one Canadian province. The overall population estimate is now about 900,000 to 950,000 bears. Regionally, black bear numbers have not merely increased in many areas, they’ve multiplied in Malthusian fashion. A comparatively small and largely unwild state like New Jersey has seen its bear count leap from around 100 in the 1970s to nearly 3,500 by 2015. Tennessee went from “scarce” to harboring about 4,800 or more animals; neighboring North Carolina holds an abundant 20,500. Colorado now has as many as 20,000 bruins, up more than 5,000 in a handful of years, and the population is growing in many areas of the state. There are about 35,000 black bears in California. This is a mere sampling of an ursid population expansion that continues across much of the country.

Along with the large increase in bears has come a substantial increase in “human/bear conflicts” throughout most of the species’ range.

In 2015, Colorado had more than 1,200 reports of “problem bears.” By 2020, there were already more than 1,800 bear reports recorded by mid-July. From 2019 to the end of 2020, Colorado Parks and Wildlife received 879 calls about bears breaking into homes, dwellings, or garages. In New Jersey, a biologist said, “Conflicts are a daily occurrence. We’ve got bears everywhere you can possibly imagine, in places you can’t believe.” Florida (about 3,000 bears) recorded 5,584 human/bear conflicts in 2015, including what has been termed “a surge” in attacks, a few of which were labeled “violent maulings.” 

It’s worth noting that many so-called conflicts are nothing more than reports of a bear walking across someone’s lawn or tipping over a garbage can. These incidents aren’t meaningless, but it’s important not to confuse them with attacks, yet another word that lacks consistent usage even among biologists and agency managers. But by most definitions, and speaking generally, violent black bear encounters with humans are on the rise, and the variety of scenarios is rather astonishing: Bears biting people through tent walls;  ripping tents open and dragging someone out; breaking into hard-sided, occupied campers; bursting through cabin or home doors; smashing through a glass or screen window to attack a person on the other side; grabbing a man off of his front porch; attacking someone’s dog and then turning on the human who tries to interfere, and so on. Some biologists and bear defenders want to downplay or even deny these realities, and some people in the press or elsewhere want to exaggerate or sensationalize them out of proportion. I am pro-bear, but I believe in finding the truth, which lies somewhere in the middle of these two extremes.

It seems only fair to add that there are now 331 million humans occupying the United States, with more and more of us living and recreating in bear country. Mix a lot more bears with a lot more people, and it’s unsurprising that the result is a surge in “conflicts.” Especially when, as more than one biologist has noted, a high percentage of “bear problems” are more accurately described as people problems–involving those who unknowingly or carelessly do wrong things–often with food, trash or other attractants–that invite conflicts. That is not to deny, however, that there are many cases where a person does nothing wrong and still has trouble–sometimes very serious trouble–with a bear.

This brings us to the actual realities of potential black bear danger, about which there is so much conflicting opinion and misinformation. I’ll start by looking at fatalities, the number of humans killed by black bears and what we can learn from these types of attacks, while also identifying some widespread, mistaken interpretations that have been made from fatal-attack studies. This topic is particularly apropos at the moment, for during the writing of this column (May 2021), came the sad news of the death of 39-year-old Laney Malavolta, who was killed while walking with her two dogs on a private trail north of Durango, Colorado. She was attacked by a sow black bear with two yearling cubs, and her body was partially consumed. The bears were soon tracked and euthanized. A necropsy found human remains in the stomachs of the sow and one of the cubs. 

There have been a number of fatal-attack black bear studies, but one of the most influential was published in 2011 by Stephen Herrero, Andrew Higgins, et al. Herrero, author of the foundational book, Bear Attacks: Their Causes and Avoidance (1985, revised 2002), focused this paper on deadly encounters that occurred from 1900-2009. He and his team found that “at least 63 people were killed in 59 incidents by non-captive black bears” in North America.(Since 2009 I have personally tallied another 13 human deaths, bringing the unofficial current total to 76.) Eighty-six percent of these fatal attacks happened between 1960 and 2009. This could indicate a rising trend in deadly bear assaults, but could also be a result of poor record-keeping in the first half of the twentieth century.

Now comes the standout finding that so many have seized upon: “We judged that the bear involved acted as a predator in 88 percent (49 of 56) of fatal incidents . . . [lone] male bears were involved in 92 percent (33 of 36) of fatal predatory incidents . . . [this] shows that females with young are not the most dangerous black bears.” 

Citing these findings, the writer I quoted earlier wrote, “when black bears attack, it is almost always an act of predation.” Also: “the majority of attacks on humans by black bears are predatory in nature.” Many others have said much the same thing, which is a major and serious mistake of the kind that might be called “erroneous extrapolation.” Herrero’s study did not find that 88 percent of all black bear attacks were predatory, he found that was true only of fatal attacks, which comprise just a fraction of all attack numbers. If in fact 88 percent of all black bear attacks were predatory, we would be counting annual bear-caused human deaths in substantial double digits instead of the actual low single-digit figure.

In an unpublished preliminary study, biologist John Hechtel made some very interesting and informative computations. His look at “35 Years of Bear Attacks in Alaska, 1980-2014,” showed the following: Recorded attacks by brown bears: 178, with 196 victims (indicating some multiple-person attacks by a single bear) and 15 fatalities; compared to black bears: 20 attacks, 21 victims, and 3 fatalities. (As a side note: hunters were the second-highest category of all bear-attack victims, numbering 59. The highest category, general “recreating,” had 89 victims.) One of Hechtel’s important conclusions is that “black bears [are] not more predatory [than brown or polar bears]. Predatory attacks were less than 10 percent of total.” 

In another study, Herrero and Hank Hristienko found 92 serious attacks occurring across Canada and the U.S. from 2010 to 2013. Attack numbers rose annually, from 19 in 2010 to 32 in 2013. Data showed that, despite common belief, the size of a bear is not indicative of its potential danger or likelihood to attack. In the earlier study, Herrero found 23 adult and 10 sub-adult male bears involved in fatal attacks. My personal case-history files include many instances of small bears–120 pounds or less–making deadly or severe assaults. According to one biologist, any bear 100 pounds or over is capable of killing an unarmed adult human. Herrero has remarked that young male bears might be even more prone to violent engagement than older, larger ones. “Young males . . . are more risk-taking and more aggressive, and that’s definitely the pattern here. It fits bears and men and a number of other species.”

An important new, not-yet-published study by Janel Marie Scharhag at the University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point is the first to focus solely on non-fatal black bear attacks, and reveals some fresh and illuminating information. Scharhag examined 210 agency-confirmed attacks that occurred in the 48 conterminous United States from 2000 to 2017. She defined “attack” as intentional/purposeful contact initiated by a bear on one or more humans, resulting in human injury. She did not include violent encounters that weren’t started by the bear, such as if a hunter wounded an animal which then mauled the hunter, or if someone kicked a bear that was fighting with his dog, or if a person got foolishly close while taking a photo. 

Of the 210 attacks, 52 percent were defensive. (A defensive attack is one in which the bear reacts to feeling threatened in some way.) Eighty-five percent of defensive attacks were by female bears, 91 percent of them sows with cubs. Further, only 15 percent of all black bear attacks were predatory (and 95% of those were by male bears). I’ve added emphasis where the findings contradict or refute widespread claims and beliefs such as: “Most black bear attacks are predatory,” and “females and sows with cubs aren’t dangerous and rarely attack people.” Note also the disparity between Herrero’s conclusion regarding fatal attacks: “females with young are not the most dangerous black bears” and the non-fatal findings, where sows with cubs are a real threat. This provides yet another lesson in both the complexity and subtleties of the bear-danger/safety subject, and bolsters the need to be careful when extrapolating or generalizing.

Scharhag also labeled a “new” behavioral category she calls “other,” which accounted for the remaining 33 percent of attacks. (80 percent of these were by male bears.) An example of “other” would be a bear that approaches a camp, swats a person aside, grabs some food and leaves. The bear isn’t “predatory,” (trying to prey on someone), and it isn’t “defensive,” (defending itself from a perceived threat). In existing terminology most experts would include this type of behavior in the “non-defensive” category, about which more later.

An “anthropogenic” (human-caused) attractant such as food or garbage was present at 64 percent of attack locations. Attacks occurred during the day but more often (61 percent) at night. Thirty-three percent of all attacks were labeled “severe.” Another important finding is that a domestic dog was involved in 25 percent of attack scenarios. Often this was a person walking with a dog and surprising a female bear, especially a sow with cubs. The bear chased or attacked the dog and then turned on the person. These cases often resulted in severe attacks, and this seems to be what happened with Laney Malavolta near Durango. 

It’s obvious that black bears are neither “mostly harmless pests,” nor are they “relentlessly predatory killers of people.” They need to be taken seriously as powerful, intelligent animals that can sometimes be dangerous. 

In part two of this article, I will explain the right moves for handling encounters; discuss effective self-defense options, and examine the best ways to respond if you are attacked by a black bear.  Read it here.              

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An Update on Mozambique’s 24 Lions Project

Photo above by Mark Haldane

In 2018, Brad Fitzpatrick first reported in Sports Afield about a project he termed “the largest wild lion transfer across an international border in African history.” 

The brainchild of safari outfitter/professional hunter Mark Haldane, who worked with partners including neighboring concession holder Alvaro Rola and the Ivan Carter Wildlife Conservation Alliance, the 24 Lions Project was a year’s long undertaking in the planning that resulted in the transportation and reintroduction of lions back into the Zambezi Delta area of Mozambique, with little precedent and no practical model for predicting success. Made possible by funding from the Cabela Family Foundation, the project just celebrated its third anniversary. I was in Mozambique recently to find out how things were going.

As we buzzed high over the Zambezi Delta, I felt like I was wearing the tiny R-22 helicopter more than flying in it. Mark Haldane, Zambeze Delta Safaris owner, and I were flying out in search of one of the lion prides wandering the one million acres of revitalized Mozambiquan wilderness known as Coutada 11. Would we be successful in finding the elusive top-tier predator? We would know in 30 minutes or so.

From interviews with the head of the scientific team, Willem Briers-Louw, as well as Haldane himself, I had already learned that some of the original 24 lions released three years ago in Coutadas 10 and 11 had died from natural causes or through poaching.

The good news was that those who survived had quickly disbursed across the vast landscape and established eight prides from which 24 lions had today grown to 60 cats strong. 

On our flight today, Haldane and I were searching for the most successful single pride of the project, a group known as the Tembe Pride.

The Disappearing Act of the Tembe Pride

Spotting a pride of lions in their native landscape is not as easy as it sounds, even from the vantage point of a helicopter. In fact, the very same pride that Haldane and I were trying to locate today had a knack for staying out of sight.

Named after their point of origin, Tembe Elephant Park in South Africa, the Tembe Pride – originally consisting of four females – disappeared for an entire year after release from the wire-and-wood acclimatization boma where they were held upon arrival in Mozambique. Though a fair proportion of the 24 introduced lions wore electronic collars, there were not enough to go around, and none of the Tembe lionesses sported a collar. 

There was good reason to be concerned for the safety of the Tembe lions after their release. Humans and their traps and snares were the main cause of death among the original 24 animals. Though the anti-poaching efforts of the hunting operators in the region have been wonderfully successful, the same is not true for adjoining areas. Had the Tembe females wandered out of the hunting area and into the poachers’ gin traps and metal snares? As the months went past, it seemed more and more likely that the four Tembe lionesses were not just missing, but dead.

The break in the case of the disappeared Tembe pride came like all good detective yarns, involving an unexplained observation. Briers-Louw and his colleagues had noticed for some time that lions were making kills in a localized area – frequently from the many warthogs occupying the floodplains. However, the scientists were unsuccessful in spotting any lions in this region, either from the ground or the air. The million dollar question was: Which pride was responsible for the kills? 

Then one day the guides were driving out to the floodplain in the late afternoon to relax and have a sundowner. The last thing on their minds was spotting the Tembe Pride, but as they rounded a patch of vegetation, not 150 yards away outlined against the brilliant red horizon were the four missing-in-action lionesses. The scientists now knew that the Tembe pride had survived, and importantly, they were able to dart and collar two of the females so they could now keep tabs on the pride’s whereabouts.

Within a week of their rediscovering the Tembe Pride, the scientists realized that a resident Mozambiquan male lion was with them, and, remarkably, two of the females were carrying cubs. Within a few months, the two pregnant females formed a den nearby in a place nicknamed Beto’s Island. When the scientists checked on the two females a short time later, they discovered not only the lionesses, but also seven chubby, rollicking young cubs. A few months later a third female gave birth to two cubs, and then not long afterwards, the fourth and last female produced a single offspring. The Tembe Pride now boasts the original four lionesses and 10 half- to two-thirds grown cubs.

The Hapless Karongwe Pride

If Tembe is the most successful group from the original 24 Lions reintroduction, the Karongwe Pride is the one that has been through the greatest struggles, including several tragedies. The two Karongwe lionesses making up this pride came from the Karongwe Animal Preserve near Kruger National Park. The two females failed to produce cubs the first year after their release. With other lionesses able to reproduce, Briers-Louw and his team wondered whether or not the females might be infertile.

The concern over the lack of conception soon took a backseat to the possibility that one of the females might die. On one of his helicopter patrols, Haldane happened to cross over into a neighboring area. He spotted one of the Karongwe females wandering there, and noticed that she seemed to be in some sort of difficulty. When Mark radioed his camp for help, the scientists and veterinarians rushed to the area and found the lioness with a snare encircling her body. Its ever-tightening construction had buried the snare to a depth of two inches beneath her skin. Neither the scientists nor veterinarians gave the lioness much chance of survival, but they cleaned the wound, closed the horrible gash with surgical thread and injected her with a large dose of antibiotics. Then they put a GPS collar on her in order to monitor her closely and see if she would recover.

The good news was that the lioness did indeed heal and regain full health. The bad news was that within the month she and her companion lioness returned to the same area, and she once again found herself in a poacher’s wire snare. This time, the snare lodged just above her back left paw. The signals from the lioness’ GPS collar tipped off the crew that she was not moving. The scientists and veterinarian again loaded into the helicopter and made their way to the struggling Karongwe female. When they reached her, they quickly used the hypodermic dart to put her to sleep. Once sedated, they rolled her over and found her back foot swollen to more than double normal size. Left much longer, they would have had no option but to amputate the damaged foot – a not uncommon ending for these types of injuries. Such an amputation could easily have resulted in her removal from the Delta, or eventual euthanasia. But this lioness continued to demonstrate a cat’s nine lives. As she limped away, the team of concerned watchers could only wonder if she would eventually succumb to her unwise wanderings.

While the one Karongwe lioness repeatedly encountered the poachers’ cruelty, the other lioness was having her own tragic struggles. Unlike her companion, the second female from the Karongwe Animal Preserve had been fortunate to avoid poachers. The scientific team was ecstatic when they caught up with her one year after her release and found the lioness playing with her young cub. Unfortunately, their joy was short-lived. Three months later, they located the female, and her cub was no longer with her. Briers-Louw and his team are quick to point out that such losses are “part of the process.” Yet, the catch in their voices when discussing such events communicates the level of pain that such ”natural occurrences” cause for those so invested in the individual animals of the 24 Lions project.

The plight of the Karongwe females continued after the near-loss of one female and the loss of the second female’s first offspring. Six months after the death of the cub, the GPS collars indicated that both females were together and excitingly were showing ”denning behavior,” venturing out and making kills in a small radius and otherwise limiting their movements. 

When the scientists headed out in their helicopter in search of the Karongwe lionesses, they had high hopes of finding the females with more cubs. They were not disappointed. As the helicopter hovered, the two females and a total of four cubs looked up warily at the noisy contraption. One cub belonged to the female who came close to losing her life to snares. The second female had replaced her lost cub with three more young. Sadly, these births also ended in loss. In only a few months, the lionesses’ limited movement patterns – short distances traveled back-and-forth from their den – once again widened to that of adult animals without young. Sure enough, when the team again located the two Karongwe females, they were both cubless.

Then, in August 2020, the Karongwe Pride’s story finally took a turn for the better. The females moved into a game-rich and poacher-free floodplain. Maybe the females’ instincts were changing or maybe they were just beginning to understand the landscape of their new home in Mozambique, but whatever the reason, with the abundance of game, the females became pregnant and each had a litter of three cubs. Though early on, the snared female lost one of her cubs, the remaining five are now 11 months old, and well on their way to becoming adults. The other great news is that one of the dominant males from the original 24 animals has joined the Karongwe females and is acting as the guardian of both lionesses and cubs. Yes, compared to the Tembe Pride, the Karongwe lionesses have traveled a troubled path. But, maybe, just maybe, they have turned a corner.

Stunning Success of the 24 Lions Project

As the travails of the Karongwe Pride indicate, the reintroduction begun in 2018 was not without its challenges. In total, seven of the original 24 adult lions released into the Marromeu Complex died in the first three years. During this same period, 51 births occurred, with nine of the cubs lost. Yet, in a wonderful demonstration of the marriage of great science, substantial funds, and the passion of hunters, the 24 lions introduced in 2018 have nearly tripled in number. Even the number of prides has increased, with the Mac group replicating into three separate active prides. Yes, there has been loss of adults and young to natural causes and poaching, but looked at from all perspectives, the reintroduction has been an incredible success.

Our helicopter trip was wildly successful too. As our search for the Tembe Pride continued under Haldane’s piloting, my heart and breathing rate elevated. Finally, we homed in on the GPS coordinates issuing from the Tembe lions’ GPS collars. And then, there they were below us. Staring up with what looked through the camera lens like irritation mixed with disdain – as if they were thinking, “Here come the bloody tourists again!” – they slowly, slowly slunk from one palmetto patch to the next. Their tawny hides had an iridescent quality in the rays of the morning sun. As they meandered between the temporary hiding places, their muscles rippled and their detachable shoulder blades slid to-and-fro. Simply put, they were animals that left me speechless.

Not wanting to overly upset the lions or overstay our less-than-warm welcome, we left the pride to its wanderings after only 10 minutes. As Mark turned the helicopter back toward the Zambeze Delta Safaris basecamp, I sat in amazement from what I had just experienced. Wild lions are disappearing at an alarming rate across Africa. Not as a result of trophy hunters, but mostly because they get in the way of local humans and suffer the consequences. That trend is not true for the Marromeu Complex under the watchful eyes of hunters and scientists. The number of lions there is increasing at an astonishing rate and they are dispersing across millions of acres of woodland and floodplain. Wild lions have returned and made themselves at home in Mozambique’s Zambezi Delta, thanks to a small group of dedicated people and the vision they share.

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