
A SANParks field ranger inspects the tattered remains of one of the latest victims of the rhino wars in the Kruger National Park. The white rhino was found about 5km from the Mozambican border earlier this week. PICTURE: Tony Carnie
The stench of death and rotting meat fills the air as wildlife crime investigators cut, probe and sift through the tattered remains of yet another rhino carcass in the Kruger National Park.
They are looking for clues to who shot the latest victim of SA’s escalating rhino wars.
The cause of death is no mystery, of course.
It was shot by poachers who hacked off the animal’s horns before hot-footing it back over the border to Mozambique with their bloody prize.
This was the 95th rhino to be killed in the opening months of 2012 in SA’s flagship national park. Nationwide at least 159 rhinos have died over the same period, and by December the toll is likely to be well above 600 for the year.
Earlier this week, SA National Parks officers took a media group to the scene of the crime during a briefing on the guerrilla war being fought with armed and determined poachers from Mozambique. What a sad indictment of SA’s once proud record of rhino conservation, it seems, when officials can locate a carcass almost as a matter of routine.
This is something that would have been almost unimaginable just five years ago, when no more than 10 rhinos a year were being killed in Kruger.
But this is how grave the situation has become. Rhinos are now shot at the rate of almost one a day in Kruger.
The men who killed rhino number 159 are long gone now, and there is little chance of pursuing them. They shot their prize about 5km inside SA territory before fleeing.
“Once they get the horns they normally run as fast as their legs will carry them back to Mozambique,” says Ken Maggs, head of the SANParks environmental crimes investigation unit.
“It’s literally a case of hit and run.”
Maggs says the poachers are working against the clock as soon as they fire the first bullet, aware that the sound of gunfire may attract the attention of field rangers on patrol – even though there is no effective way to patrol every part of this vast 2 million hectare park, an area almost the same size as Israel.
Back at the crime investigation scene, men and women in green fatigues, white gumboots and blue gloves bring out their measuring tapes, cameras, metal detectors, skinning knives and other specialist equipment to gather evidence which might just help to convict the long-departed killers at some point in the future.
There is not much meat left on this carcass, just skin, bones and a few scraps of flesh clinging to the tough rhino hide.
By the time rangers found the body, it had been torn apart by lions, hyaenas and jackals.
Close by in the grass, there are visible signs of where a pride of lions lay down the previous night to digest their bonus meal. The earth is also splattered with white droppings and light-coloured feathers, evidence of the vultures which joined the feast.
Nevertheless, the crime investigators are able to retrieve at least one bullet which tore through the animal’s tough hide, just above the shoulder.
Nearby, there are two brass cartridges from a heavy-calibre rifle, indicating that the poachers crept up very close to the animal before firing their shots.
And there are other clues left behind which might help to convict the killers and accomplices. Chances are that the culprits will be back here within a few weeks, once they have passed the horns to middlemen who will smuggle them to Vietnam or China.
“There are some pretty tough guys out there. They are excellent hunters and trackers and some have received military training in the past with Frelimo and Renamo,” says Maggs, a former combat policeman who has spent the past 27 years of his career defending wildlife in the Imfolozi and Kruger reserves.
“These guys know the bush like the back of their hands and I have to say that some of them are very good. They really are determined.”
Active
Our visit to Kruger coincides with the full moon, a time when rhino poachers seem to become more active than usual.
The full moon provides favourable lighting conditions for hunting, yet it is too dark for SANParks helicopters to be on air patrol. We also meet Bruce Leslie, the head of Kruger’s anti-poaching special operations team. His men are getting ready to leave on another night surveillance patrol. Sometimes the patrols sleep out in the bush for a week, trying to intercept poachers.
Members of the anti-poaching unit carry some pretty fancy tools in their backpacks, including satellite phones and night-vision rifles – as well as first-aid equipment if men are wounded in a firefight.
“We do not have a shoot-to-kill policy because we are bound by rules of engagement. But the poachers have no rules whatsoever. They won’t hesitate to shoot at us,” says Maggs.
“At times, it does seem like a case of one step forward and two steps backward,” he says, acknowledging that poachers are winning the war.
“This is organised crime par excellence. There is an enormous amount of money involved, on the same level as drugs and illegal weapons.”
Recently a key suspect from a local poaching network was arrested in SA, less than 3km from the Kruger Park border. Police and wildlife officers found R5.1 million in a trunk in his unlocked garage.
“He did not even know how much money he had. He gave an educated guess when we asked him, but he was way under the mark. For me, that was a watershed moment in understanding the enormity of the problem we face. I have never seen that amount of cash.”
And with so much money to throw around, it’s little wonder that several park rangers, policemen and other state officials have also been implicated in horn poaching. Yet Maggs remains optimistic that the tide can still be turned.
“We have certainly not given up. We have some very passionate and dedicated people and I have absolutely no doubt that we will prevail.”