By Aaron Sandel
Chimpanzees are dramatic. Pant hoots, screams, charging displays. You would think something unusual was happening. Nope. Just that they found food, or ran into another chimp who they hadn’t seen that day.
Of course, I shouldn’t downplay the importance of food or those quotidian details of chimpanzee life that elicit such excitement. After all, those are the details I want to understand. (And while I’m not prone to pant hoot, the one thing that elicits anticipatory emotions for me is vegan Thai food.)
I’ve gotten used to the forest melodrama, and my pulse remains steady as chimps scream, hoot, or charge past me. But I’m not entirely phlegmatic.
I’m not used to gunshots.
Some signs of poachers are more obvious than others. A dropped matchbox is a bit less subtle than the bent grass where a boot had been. But when the Uganda Wildlife Authority ranger fired his gun three times, we knew we were close. William and Lamuel, two members of our snare removal team, took off running. At that point, I didn’t think I would be much help, so I stayed behind.
My adviser and the other students left camp on August 10th. Sam, the only other researcher, drove them out of the forest. Upon their departure, another fire was set in the grasslands. When Sam was driving back, he spotted a poacher and dog on the road near camp.
As Sam told me this, a clap of thunder provided cinematic emphasis. The sunny day turned dark, and rain swept across the porch and soon turned to hail. After the storm subsided, I joined William, Lamuel, and an armed Uganda Wildlife Authority ranger to look for the poacher.
Even though the rain had washed away most of the clues, William and Lamuel were able to find the poacher’s trail. They stayed in the forest late into the night, but unfortunately didn’t catch the perpetrator. More....