22 Quotes by Mark Owens

As we stood watching the ominous cloud, a strong wind, gusting to thirty miles per hour, struck us full in the face, tugging at our clothes and bringing tears to our eyes. Only miles of dry grass stood between us and the fire.

After the fire passed us it marched on across the dune tops into the Kalahari, lighting the night sky like a spectacular sunset. Behind it, the cool pink glow of burned-out trees and logs remained, until the fire’s crimson was lost in the blush of dawn.

At last it was raining. Water was streaming through gaps in the window frames and trickling into our laps. “Smell it! Smell it! God, how wonderful! How beautiful!” we shouted over and over.

A visiting scientist tell of Africa’s disappearing wilderness: More than two-thirds of its wildlife had already been eliminated, pushed out of its habitats by large ranches and urban sprawl. In the southern regions, thousands of predators were being trapped, shot, snared, and poisoned to protect domestic stock. In some African nations, conservation policies and practices were virtually nonexistent.

The people of the village were hungry. We avoided the eyes of the begging children, embarrassed that we had nothing we could give them, yet knowing we were wealthy by comparison.

The entire Blue Pride, nine in all, surrounded us, nearly all of them asleep. We were quite literally in bed with a pride of wild Kalahari lions.

Because of the heat and the lack of water and materials for shelter, much of the Central Kalahari has remained unexplored and unsettled. From our camp there was no village around the corner or down the road. There was no road. We had to haul our water a hundred miles through the bushveld, and without a cabin, electricity, a radio, a television, a hospital, a grocery store, or any sign of other humans and their artifacts for months at a time, we were totally cut off from the outside world.

Most game reserves in Botswana are large tracts of totally undeveloped wilderness. There are no paved roads, fast-food stands, water fountains, campgrounds, restrooms, or any of the other “improvements” found in parks and reserves in more developed countries.

Because it often receives somewhat more than ten inches of rainfall, the Central Kalahari is not a true desert. It has none of the naked, shifting sand dunes that typify the Sahara and other great deserts of the world. In some years the rains may exceed twenty—once even forty— inches, awakening a magic green paradise.