WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE

On the endless savannah of the South African bushveld, life reveals itself slowly and in the details. But that doesn't mean it isn't dangerous.

By KISHA FERGUSON

 The sound of the buffalo thorns clinking against the metal canopy of our Land Rover is like rapid gunfire -- a quick succession of high metallic pings. As we cut along a narrow path of muddy red earth through the dry bush, the sharp points of the two-inch-long thorns are a constant reminder -- especially to those with thin clothing -- that this is dangerous and wild territory.

 These dirt tracks cut through the mixed woodland savannah and dense thicket of the bushveld -- at an elevation of between 800 and 1,200 metres, the bushveld is centred in South Africa's Northern Province and extends into northern KwaZulu-Natal province, north to Zimbabwe, south to Swaziland, east to Mozambique and as far west as Botswana. With an annual average rainfall of about 50 centimetres, the terrain is blanketed by a continuous ground cover of dull brown grass. Out here the broad vistas are studded with trees -- buffalo trees, acacias, marula -- some towering and majestic, others scraggly and brittle.

 For various tribes in the area, including the Shangaan and Zulu, the bushveld's trees mean survival; from their more obvious uses for building materials and fuel to the extraction of their fruit and bark for food and medicines, there's ample reason the trees are described as "man's oldest resource."

 Lee Gutteridge, a game ranger, is behind the wheel of the Land Rover, the ubiquitous mode of transport here. This ungainly machine, which can traverse rivers deeper than its front end, is the ultimate symbol of freedom in this dense bush, but is sometimes its destroyer, too. While driving offroad Lee tries to manoeuvre so that smaller trees are between the two front tires when he motors over them -- that way they bend when run over, then bounce back up like a children's pop-up book. The Land Rover is also a travelling home of sorts, because there are times when getting out of the vehicle just isn't an option. The front compartments of the vehicle are stuffed with encyclopedic field guides identifying a multitude of sub-species of a particular bird, snake or antelope. An elephant rifle, which Lee never leaves the vehicle without, is secured to the top of the dashboard.

Although it's winter now, the temperatures... story continued.