Laikipia
‘That elephant is almost human,’ my wife Claire said. ‘That,’ I replied, ‘is the problem.’ I called him Stomper. Like people, elephants are sly and voracious. When I bought a farm I became set against elephants. I love big trees. Elephants are to Africa’s fine trees what gales are to England’s oaks. When a 200-strong herd passes through the farm, they bark-strip trees for fodder. Then they bulldoze them for fun. They may assist with the germination of young trees, but they leave the landscape resembling the battle of Passchendaele. When Britain had mammoths, I bet there were no old oaks.
When I planted a garden our greatest enemy was the elephant. With the agility of racehorses, Stomper and his young bulls leapt over the five-foot perimeter dry-stone walls. They barged around eating everything.
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