The bravest animal in all the land
Might not be what you were thinking
We like to anthropomorphise animals by attributing human qualities to them. A documentary presenter tells us about how the regal lion rules over his kingdom while the cowardly hyena skulks about in the shadows. Of course, these descriptions say more about our own preconceptions than the animals we are describing, and they certainly can add spice to an otherwise dull script.
Bravery is one quality that can plausibly be applied to both humans and animals. Anyone who enjoys wildlife videos on YouTube has most certainly seen clips of a brave mother antelope, buffalo or zebra risking their lives to defend their young ones. To cite just one example, I recall a wildebeest cow successfully fighting off a leopard that had pounced on her calf. Is the mother being brave, is she following deep-seated maternal instincts or both?
One could debate about what makes an action brave. When one buffalo fights against three lionesses, is that brave or is it desperately fighting for its life? The lionesses did not give the buffalo a choice, so I am not sure that taking the only option available was brave.
In my view, bravery is when the animal chooses to take on a larger or more formidable opponent. When a pride of lions attacks a buffalo and other members of the herd rally to defend the would be victim, the buffalo are being courageous because although they are much larger than the lions – the big cats are terrifyingly formidable.
Using the above criteria, I believe that the honey badger is the bravest mammal in South Africa, but not the bravest animal.
Once again referencing YouTube videos, you can easily find clips of honey badgers taking on several hyenas, a leopard or even a small pride of lions. Many times larger than the badgers, the predators do not seem to be able to cope with the unbridled viciousness of badgers.
I watched a video (many times) of a python that appeared to have caught a honey badger and was preparing to suffocate its prey by wrapping its two-metre long body around the badger. Along came two black-backed jackal trying to get in on the action. The jackals most likely thought they could help themselves to a free meal even though they were not yet sure what was on the menu: strangled honey badger or eviscerated python.
The honey badger used the sudden distraction of the jackals to free itself from the coils of the python and then turned its wrath on snake, while at the same time snapping angrily at the jackals. Yes, honey badgers can do that. Ask any three hyenas who have had the misfortune of trying to take on a honey badger.
Needless to say, the honey badger kills the snake and drags it into a bush while the jackals go scampering off to find easier prey.
Please note, that I described the honey badger as the bravest mammal, not the bravest animal. That accolade goes to a bird known as the blacksmith lapwing and I make this call based on personal experience.
A few months ago, the wife and I had parked on the apron in front of Hapoor Dam in the Addo Elephant Park. We often do this as we have our sandwiches and coffee in what is arguably the best place on Earth to observe elephants at close range.
I became aware of a sharp noisy sound coming from the dam’s banks. We knew immediately that there was a lapwing (or a kiewiet as we know it) in the vicinity. They have a very distinct call.
Generative AI explains the confusion around the bird’s name: The Afrikaans word ‘kiewiet’ translates to ‘plover’ or ‘lapwing’ in English. The Afrikaans name comes from the bird's easily recognisable call, a croaky ‘krueeet’. That weird ‘krueeet’ screech is a plausible attempt at transliterating the blacksmith lapwing’s call.
Once known as the blacksmith plover because its harsh calls sound like they are produced in a blacksmith’s workshop.
I have spent time writing about the blacksmith lapwing’s call because it is useful to understand that this modest sized bird – bigger than a pigeon, but smaller than a duck – makes an outsized racket especially when threatened, or when threatening.
We heard the shrieking coming from the dried up flats on the banks of the dam, but we were not surprised. Lapwings often come to the area and for some bizarre reason, even lay their eggs close to a small dam frequented by hundreds of elephants.
The inevitable happened. A young elephant began approaching a part of the flats claimed by a lapwing. The bird stretched out its wings to make itself look bigger and screeched as if the world was coming to an end. The elephant extended it ears as it really needed to look bigger – and it stopped in its dusty tracks. He raised his trunk, flapped his ears and looked at the annoying creature in front of him.
What was that elephant thinking? He could have squished the bird under his giant foot and would hardly have felt a lump; but he dare not move forward. The lapwing carried on screeching lifting his wings in the most intimidating way possible.
I could not even see the eggs. They were probably under a tuft of grass or lump of mud, but the bird knew where they were and was not letting anyone, not even a three-ton elephant go near those precious eggs.
The Mexican standoff lasted about five minutes until the elephant chose another path to the water.
The lapwing won that round decisively. I don’t know what happened after that, but you can appreciate why I consider the lapwing the bravest animal in all our parks.
Thank-you for reading, and I hope you continue to receive the Real Safari newsletter.
Great story - and thanks for sharing the amazing honey badger Youtube video. Incredible.