# There are thought to
be more than 12,000 elephants in the Kruger National Park.
BEST FOR WILDLIFE
‘Now for me, this is the true privilege of my job.’ Lazarus Mkhonto has parked
in the sunset-gilded sands of a dried river bed, but his eyes aren’t on the
scenery, nor the refreshments laid artfully across the Land Cruiser’s bonnet,
nor even the many representatives of a safari-spotter’s wish list ambling past
on all sides: the crazy-paved giraffes nibbling at the tree tops; a multi
generational herd of unhurried elephants; two gimlet-eyed rhinos with their
ancient flanks tide-marked in basking mud.
Instead, Lazarus is transfixed by a modest, russet-coloured
ruminant on the far bank, nervously browsing green shoots thrown up after the
first rains of summer. ‘We have more than a million impala here in Kruger
National Park,’ he says-a typically healthy population in this bushveld the
size of Belgium, home to almost 800 species of reptile, bird and mammal. ‘Most
people spot one or two and then stop noticing they’re even there. No-one comes
here to see them. Maybe that’s why I’m such a fan. Yesterday I watched one for
two hours.’
Passion, Lazarus asserts, is what makes a good ranger. ‘We
have people who come here with diplomas and degrees,’ he says, pulling down the
brim of his bush hat as the sun goes out in a scarlet blaze of glory, ‘but if
they don’t fall in love with this place, they don’t last long.’
Lazarus was raised just outside the park, and began working
as a tracker at 14. ‘But I’m still reprised every day.’ He says. ‘See that
watering hole?’ he points at a muddy splodge a hundred yards off, as large as
an inflatable paddling pool and ringed with coconut cobbles of elephant dung.
‘I went past this morning and could not believe what I found living in it.’ On
cue, the improbable cohabitants reveal themselves in a thrashing of brown
water: a full-grown crocodile and a monstrous hippo.
Vast yet often seemingly crowded, the Kruger can both
overwhelm and disappoint. Visitors must stick to the roads, meaning their every
encounter with nature’s raw majesty is diluted by the background presence of
tarmac, tour buses and the whirr of cameras. Most visitors, anyway: the jock
Safari Lodge, where Lazarus works as a ranger manager, offers an entirely more
natural experience. The oldest of a handful of private lodges within the park,
the Jock is set in 6,000 exclusive hectares. ‘We can go anywhere we like,’ says
Lazarus, gesturing at the dusk-bound river bed, the tall jackalberry trees full
of balloons shrieking against the dying of the light, the low, orange hills
strewn with Flinstones stacks of bare boulders. ‘People come to Kruger for
wildlife, but you know: this is really wild, man,’ He smiles hugely. ‘And it’s
my office.’
Each of the 12 straw-roofed guest cottages has a private
plunge pool. Barbecues and other meals are served on a panoramic deck
(including all meals and two game drives; jocksafarilodge.com).
