The Bird That Chased Us In Africa(G. Booth) Although the day was hot the roads were muddy, and driving along these muddy roads was a challenge all on its own. There were eight of us in all who had decided to go for a game viewing drive. Milton, Manwel, Tammy, Patty (my grandmother), and myself were inside the double-cab and Michelle, Poppy and Renata were the three ladies standing in the back of the pick-up. We slid and wound our way along the muddy roads in the hope of seeing something of magnificence, such as a lion or leopard.

It wasn’t long before we approached about 6 buffalo and brought the double-cab to a gentle halt. After a short debate inside the cab we decided to get out of the vehicle and walk around a tad, mainly to enjoy the surroundings and the delightfully fresh air. It wasn’t long before I (the driver) noticed everyone dashing to the vehicle at speeds equal almost to that of an ostrich. This puzzled me a little but I later discovered that Tammy was rather petrified because she was wearing a red blouse and thought that a buffalo was ‘after her’. A red blouse in the bush! Not a good idea!

After our rather abrupt stop we continued with our drive and not far down the road we came across a Ground Hornbill (also known as a Turkey Buzzard). These are moderately large birds standing possibly about two and a half feet tall with large beaks and, in my opinion anyway, they are not the most pretty of birds to say the least. I stopped the vehicle, mainly unsure whether or not the others wanted to view the bird. We sat stationery for a few minutes, watching the monster of a bird and then proceeded with our so-far, uneventful drive.

Suddenly, and very loudly, came all the screams. “It’s chasing us, it’s chasing us!” Renata yelled from the back. “Go faster, go faster!” Michelle and Poppy were screaming. Those of us inside the cab thought that one of the buffalo had got himself in to a mad rage and was charging us, but when we looked out the back of the cab, to our absolute horror, there it was – the culprit. The massive ground hornbill we had moments ago been viewing was now in an apparently deadly pursuit of us. Its wing span was as wide as the car, or so it seemed at the time. It appeared to be on top of the ladies and all I could think about was this terribly gargantuan beak pecking at them. Judging by the screams, it had already begun!

My foot went direct to the floor board and the vehicle accelerated rapidly. With its 2.5 litre Turbo Diesel engine, it didn’t lack in power. I concentrated on avoiding the puddles as best I could and maintain maximum speed at the same time. 50 mph and it was still behind us, this evil bird was not going to let us escape so easily it seemed. The yelling continued except now there were added screams coming from within the cab. Manwel kept yelling “Stop the car, stop the car! We must kill the bird!” whilst his wife, Tammy, was shouting “No, don’t stop. Go faster! Go faster!” It was very brave of Manwel wanting to stop since all he had for a weapon was a flimsy stick which he had picked up earlier in the bush. What was he planning on doing with such a flimsy stick?

With all this noise and confusion going on, my granny quietly prayed for our safety. Milton was dead silent, almost like a statue. My guess is he was too petrified to say a word. This was not at all a case of ‘all noise and no action’ though. The 3 ladies in the back were now flinging coats around and kicking their legs vigorously and high into the air. Michelle kept repeating “But they don’t fly – they don’t fly!”, a misconception we had somehow derived from the name ‘Ground Hornbill’.

Eventually, and thanks to all the hard praying of my granny, the bird became tired and landed in a dead tree. About another ½ mile down the road we stopped and I got out the double-cab, extremely tense and puffed up. My first words were “S%*t, I’m tense” and the ladies in the back responded “You’re tense! What about us?”!

We made it safely back to the lodge and that evening we discussed the drama around a lovely camp fire. The combination of our nerves, a tot of whisky and the joy of being alive made us all sit in a circle and make individual attempts of imitating different animal sounds; this event was caught on video tape.

Much to our surprise we later heard that the bird is actually a pet, has a name, and can still be found at the game reserve where we were. It apparently loves getting rides on car roofs!


Based on a true story by G. Booth. The names have all been changed for the story.

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