"High Value" Alleged Rhino Poacher Held Near The Kruger National Park

Police have arrested an alleged rhino poacher in a village near the Kruger National Park, South African National Parks said on Wednesday.

The arrest of the "high value individual" followed extensive investigation by a special police unit. The man was detained on Tuesday in Cork Trust village, SANParks spokesperson Ike Phaahla said.

"The arrested individual... is suspected to be part of an active group of poachers operating in the Kruger National Park and surrounding reserves," Phaahla said in a statement.

Police recovered what was thought to be rhino body parts, a SANParks field ranger's uniform, hunting equipment, guns and ammunition.

In a separate incident, three alleged poachers were arrested after a shoot-out with rangers in the Malelane section of the park.

One of alleged poachers was shot and wounded. Police recovered weapons and various hunting equipment.

By:
 South African Press Association

Five Days Old Baby Elephant Rescued from Muddy Pond

Quiz Question For the Day..

What colour are cheetah Cubs?

*Grey
*Tan
*White
*Black

Jock Of The Bushveld by Sir Percy Fitzpatrick (Chapter 22)( Page 6 ) The Old Crocodile

Had the crocodile risen in front of Jock that would have been the end-- one snap would have done it; but it passed clear underneath, and, coming up just beyond him, the great lashing tail sent the dog up with the column of water a couple of feet in the air.  He did as he had done when the koodoo bull tossed him: his head was round straining to get at the crocodile before he was able to turn his body in the water; and the silence was broken by a yell of wild delight and approval from the bank. Before us the water was too deep and the stream too strong to stand in; Jim in his eagerness had gone in shoulder high, and my rifle when aimed only just cleared the water.  The crocodile was the mark for more assegais from the bank as it charged up stream again, with Jock tailing behind, and it was then easy enough to follow its movements by the shafts that were never all submerged.  The struggles became perceptibly weaker, and as it turned again to go with the stream every effort was concentrated on killing and landing it before it reached the rocks and rapids. I moved back for higher ground and, finding that the bed shelved up rapidly down stream, made for a position where there would be enough elevation to put in a brain shot.  The water was not more than waist high then, and as the crocodile came rolling and thrashing down I waited for his head to show up clearly.  My right foot touched a sloping rock which rose almost to the surface of the water close above the rapids, and anxious to get the best possible position for a last shot, I took my stand there.  The rock was the ordinary shelving bedrock, uptilted at an easy angle and cut off sheer on the exposed side, and the wave in the current would have shown this to any one not wholly occupied with other things; but I had eyes for nothing except the crocodile which was then less than a dozen yards off, and in my anxiety to secure a firm footing for the shot I moved the right foot again a few inches--over the edge of the rock.  The result was as complete a spill as if one unthinkingly stepped backwards off a diving board: I disappeared in deep water, with the knowledge that the crocodile would join me there in a few seconds. One never knows how these things are done or how long they take: I was back on the rock--without the rifle--and had the water out of my eyes in time to see the crocodile roll helplessly by, six feet away, with Jock behind making excited but ridiculously futile attempts to get hold of the tail; Jim--swimming, plunging and blowing like a maddened hippo-- formed the tail of the procession, which was headed by my water logged hat floating heavily a yard or so in front of the crocodile. While a crowd of yelling niggers under the generalship of Jim were landing the crocodile, I had time to do some diving, and managed to fish out my rifle. My Sunday change was wasted.  But we got the old crocodile; and that was something, after all.

Jock Of The Bushveld by Sir Percy Fitzpatrick ( Chapter 18 )( Page 4 ) Snowball and Tsetse

Tsetse, who in the ordinary way regarded the spur as part of the accepted discipline, promptly resented it when there seemed to him to be sufficient reason; and when Hall, astonished at Tsetse's unexpected obstinacy, gave him both heels, the old horse considerately swung round away from the river, and with a couple of neatly executed bucks shot his encumbered rider off the raised pack, yards away on to the soft grass-- water-bottle, rifle, bandolier and man landing in a lovely tangle. I then put old Snowball at it, fully expecting trouble; but the old soldier was quite at home; he walked quietly to the edge, sat down comfortably, and slid into the water--launching himself with scarce a ripple just like an old hippo.  That gave us the explanation of Tsetse's tantrum: the water came up to the seat of my saddle and walking was only just possible.  I stopped at once, waiting for Tsetse to follow; and Hall, prepared for another refusal, sat back and again used his spurs. No doubt Tsetse, once he knew the depth, was quite satisfied and meant to go in quietly, and the prick of the spur must have been unexpected, for he gave a plunge forward, landing with his fore feet in deep water and hind quarters still on the bank, and Hall shot out overhead, landing
half across old Snowball's back.  There was a moment of ludicrous but agonised suspense!  Hall's legs were firmly gripping Tsetse behind the ears while he sprawled on his stomach on Snowball's crupper, with the reins still in one hand and the rifle in the other.  Doubled up with suppressed laughter I grabbed a fist full of shirt and held on, every moment expecting Tsetse to hoist his head or pull back and complete the disaster, while Hall was spluttering out directions, entreaties and imprecations; but good old Tsetse never moved, and Hall handing me the rifle managed to swarm backwards on to Tsetse's withers and scramble on
to the pack again. Then, saddle-deep in the river--duckings and crocodiles forgotten--we
sat looking at each other and laughed till we ached. The river was about three hundred yards wide there with a good sandy bottom and of uniform depth, but, to our disappointment, we found that the other bank which had appeared to slope gently to the water edge was in fact a sheer wall standing up several feet above the river level.
The beautiful slope which we had seen consisted of water grass and reed tops; the bank itself was of firm moist clay; and the river bottom close under it was soft mud.  We tried a little way up and down, but found deeper water, more mud and reeds, and no break in the bank; there was not even a lagavaan slide, a game path, or a drinking-place.  There seemed to be nothing for it but to go back again and try somewhere else. Hall was `bad to beat' when he started on anything--he did not know how to give in; but when he looked at the bank and said, "We'll have a shot at this," I thought at first he was joking.  Later, to my remark that
"no horse ever born would face that," he answered that "any way we could try: it would be just as good as hunting for more places of the same sort!" I do not know the height of the bank, as we were not thinking of records at that time, but there are certain facts which enable one to guess fairly closely. Tsetse was ranged up beside the bank, and Hall standing in the saddle threw his rifle and bandolier up and scrambled out himself.  I then loosened Tsetse's girths from my seat on Snowball, and handed up the packed saddle--Hall lying down on the bank to take it from me; and we did the same with Snowball's load, including my own clothes, for, as it was already sundown, a ducking was not desirable, I loosened one side of Tsetse's reins, and after attaching one of mine in order to give the necessary length to them threw the end up to Hall, and he cut and handed me a long supple rod for a whip to stir Tsetse to his best endeavours. The water there was rather more than half saddle-flap high; I know that because it just left me a good expanse of hind quarters to aim at when the moment came. "Now!" yelled Hall, "Up, Tsetse!  Up!"; and whack went the stick! Tsetse reared up, right on end; he could not reach the top but struck his fore feet into the moist bank near the top, and with a mighty plunge that soused Snowball and me, went out.  The tug on the leading rein, on which Hall had thrown all his weight when Tsetse used it to lever
himself up, had jerked Hall flat on his face; but he was up in a minute, and releasing Tsetse threw back the rein to get Snowball to face it while the example was fresh. Then for the first time we thought of the crocodiles--and the river was full of them!  But Snowball without some one behind him with a stick would never face that jump, and there was nothing for it but to fire some scaring shots, and slip into the water and get the job over as quickly as possible.