After fertilisation and a suitable gestation, about fifty of the little blighters come out with the record being for an individual in a zoo with 156 of them! A record for any snake. These 150mm long babies immediately radiate away from their mother and begin to look after themselves. They survive mainly on insects, like grasshoppers, and spiders until they are large enough to go for their favourite food, rodents, which they catch by ambush.
That's three of our most dangerous snakes for me within a couple of weeks!
But that's not all, folks! There have been three Southern African Rock Python sightings in Rivendel in the last few weeks. Three different individuals too, even though they were viewed in the same area. We know they were different because of their size differences. Firstly, Annette from Riverbed Africa photographed one that was over four meters long! This snake was seen in the same area by our staff about two years ago. It is a big snake!
Then Don MacCrimmon photographed this small one within a few hundred meters of Annette's sighting. It was about one meter long, always so much more beautiful when they are young.
Then, only a few days ago, Anne MacCrimmon saw and photographed one about three meters long at the bottom of Klipspringer Hill, also close to the other sightings. This is probably the offspring of the huge one, and the small one is probably this one's offspring. A real family affair!
The Southern African Rock Python, Python natalensis, is Africa's largest snake and amongst the largest, fifth or sixth, depending on the source, in the world. Longest is the reticulated python with a length of up to 10,5 metres according to my old Fitzsimons tome, but only 6,95 meters according to Wikipedia where they only measure the skeletons of dead individuals. Interestingly, I just read an article today about a new record for the longest living wild snake, again a Reticulated Python, measured in January in Indonesia, at 23 feet 8 inch 7,2136 metres long!
Although they are long, they are slim, so the 6,95 individual weighed 59 kilograms. The Green Anaconda is the second longest with a length of 9 metres in Fitzsimons and 5,9 metres in Wiki, but the 5,9 individual weighed 163 kilograms! Much heavier, so a bigger snake. The longest Southern African Rock Python was 5,8 metres long and weighed about 70 kilograms, also a heavy snake.
I have had many glorious experiences with these beautiful and enigmatic serpents. They are magnificent, easy to catch (if they are big) and a thrill to all around. The largest I have encountered, that I could relatively accurately measure, was about 4,4 metres. It was a huge snake. The longest I have managed to capture, was about 3,5 metres and it was very strong! I needed help to remove the coils from around my arms and waist!
I also, once, was following a female leopard in one of the reserves where I worked, when she suddenly pounced into some thick bush and exposed a huge four-metre-odd-plus python! They scuffled a bit, but it didn't take long for the leopard to kill the python. She then spent two days eating the snake, which she stashed in the thick bush.
The python family is one of the more primitive of the snake families, with a few characteristics they share with lizards and not with other snakes. For instance, pythons have a pair of lungs, like us and lizards, whereas other snakes only have a single lung. Pythons also have pelvic bones and vestigial legs, visible as claws that protrude from where the back legs would be. Some remarkable features also include the presence of heat sensing pits at the end of the top jaw, helping it to locate warm-blooded prey in the darkness, and a mouth filled with more than a hundred backwards curving teeth!
Another thing that these snakes do that is unique to snakes, is to incubate their eggs! The female, when ready to lay her eggs, will find a suitable shelter like a cave, termite mound burrow or the like to spend the following two months in. She then lays her eggs, thirty to fifty of them, in pile on the floor and wraps her body around this pile and vibrates her muscles, rising her body temperature to a few degrees above ambient. She will only leave every now and again to drink water for the entire six to eight weeks that she spends with her eggs.
When the eggs are ready to hatch, she leaves, never to return. The 60-centimetre-long babies hatch by slicing the eggshell open with a temporary protrusion on the tips of their noses called an egg tooth, which falls off soon afterwards. They never see their mother, like other snakes, and have to fend for themselves from the very start.
One last amazing fact about these snakes is their ability to go long periods without food. If captured in the wild and introduced to captivity, pythons are quite well-known for refusing food. Nowadays the curators even resort to force feeding the snakes by forcing the food down into the throat and then massaging it down to the stomach. They then tie a ligature around the body, just above the stomach, for half a day to stop the snake from regurgitating the food. In the past, they used to just wait till the snake decided to eat, and that is when the remarkable record of two years and ten months without food was reached by an animal in captivity!
I have not seen a python on Finsbury property yet, but there is a record of Graham Baartman, a past manager, finding the spoor of a four-plus-metre-long specimen in the shaft of Jackpot mine above unit 16 two decades ago. Also, about ten years ago, I'm sure I remember someone from Kliprots Creek (U24) showing me a photo of a snake found there that was thought to be a python.
My goodness! It sure is a dog-eat-dog world out there! This would be the clash of the titans in the arthropod world!
I was leading a hike on the Zebra Trail when I noticed this Two-spotted Flower Crab Spider, Thomisus daradioides, atop an Umbrella Everlasting flower head, clutching a huge South African Mantis, Miomantis affra, in its clutches. It was quite a sight!
They are both apex predators and will happily eat one another any time but, on this occasion the spider came out on top. The Mantis must've approached the flower for the same reason the spider was there, to wait for a pollinator insect, like a bee or butterfly, to arrive at the flower for a meal of nectar. But the spider, with its ability to change colour to suit its background, managed to deceive the very sharp-eyed mantis. There must have been quite a struggle holding down that fearsome mantis while the spider's venom took hold!
The Crab Spiders, with multiple species here on the estate, are rather common and very easy to find, because you just need to inspect the flowers blooms around you, and sooner rather than later, you will find one matching the particular colour of the flower it is lying in wait upon. I have therefore featured them regularly in my publications in the past. Click on the search bar of this website and type in 'Crab Spider' and it will pull a bunch of previous blogs up.
The mantids too, are diverse and plentiful on the estate (with some really beautiful and bizarre ones) and I have featured them quite often, more recently "Midsummer 2025" and "Finsbury Festive Season 25/26", both available on this website.
There was something about this species of Mantis that did catch my eye, though, while reading about them. They are endemic to South Africa, meaning they don't occur naturally anywhere else in the world; however, they were accidently introduced to New Zealand in 1978 and have since become a problem there.
In New Zealand, the common name for this South African Mantis is the Springbok Mantis, and it is the only other species of mantid in the country after the indigenous and endemic New Zealand Mantis and, although they are not so closely related, they do resemble each other quite closely, and this is where the problem comes in.
The New Zealand Mantis is one of the few species where the female doesn't eat the male after mating, making the males more trusting. Regarding the Springbok Mantis though, the female does regularly, and even worse, she partakes in a behavioural phenomenon called pre-copulatory cannibalism (precc) too, as opposed to the more normal post-copulatory cannibalism (poscc). Now I can appreciate the advantages of poscc, because the female has been impregnated, so mission is accomplished, and she gets a nice big meal to help develop the eggs. It is the ultimate sacrifice by the male.
It is much more difficult, though, to even begin to understand the advantages to a female that eats the male before he mates with her, so I did a bit of digging. I could find nothing on this behaviour regarding praying mantids but did find a few papers on this subject involving spiders, which are probably just as notorious as mantids for sexual cannibalism. After reading two very complex (to me, not an entomologist, I'm sure) papers on the subject the effect of precc on the health of the population concerned is negative, and so why did it evolve?
What I could surmise was that it is a form of sexual selection to increase male fitness (think of why a male peacock has such a large tail fan). They found that the females tend to eat the smaller of the males, creating a competition in the males of the population and therefore increasing genetic fitness. An obvious benefit to the female is that her food comes to her, so she doesn't have to waste energy on the hunt.
Now the problem that this poses to the New Zealand Mantis is that, firstly he is unwary, unlike males from species where the female does eat them, and so walks nonchalantly into her jaws, and secondly, because this species is a bit smaller than the Springbok Mantis. This means that the female Springbok Mantis will probably eat all of the New Zealand Mantis males that come along, and even less of the Springbok ones that come along. This creates a negative effect for the New Zealand Mantis population and conversely has a positive effect on the introduced Springbok Mantis. Double whammy!
Finally, once we had completed our Zebra Trail hike and we were returning to the homeward path, we passed the spot again. Amazingly, after about three hours of being away, the spider was still trying to complete his huge meal! The mantis, though, was decidedly slimmer by this stage.
While I'm on Crab spiders, when I encountered this one, I was interested in the fact that it appeared to have chosen to change its colour to blend with the greens of the flower bracts, rather than the blue flowers.
It was quite an awkward photo to take, so I zoomed in on the camera after the shot, and it was only then that I noticed a pair of brown legs apparently wrapped around the green spider. After manipulating the flower inflorescence somewhat to expose the other side of the spider without spooking it, I exposed a smaller brown male who appeared in the process of mating with the female.
I looked up as much as I could on their mating habits and discovered that the females of these spiders do practise post-copulatory cannibalism but produce pheromones just before their final moult into adulthood, inviting the males to approach during her moult when she is incapable of eating them. Males are therefore often seen riding on the abdomen (safely) of the larger female, waiting for her to begin her final juvenile moult when he can risk mating.
In this photo he is in the process of mating, which entails him spinning a tiny triangular web and depositing a sperm package on top and moving this over the female genitals. let's just hope that this chap has followed the above guidelines so that he can get away afterwards....
Another weird-looking spider! It's called a Common Kitespider, Gasteracantha versicolor, and both names are quite descriptive: The English common name refers to the kite-shaped abdomen, which is very accurate; the scientific name literally means "Spiny abdomen with variable colouration" which is very descriptive because they occur in many different coloured patterns all brightly coloured, though.
This is a daytime active orb-weaving spider who spins an orb web on the vertical plane, usually in the path amongst bushes where insects fly. The spider sits openly in the centre of the orb, enabling it to feel the slightest vibration anywhere on the web. This position exposes the spider to all sorts of predators, especially birds.
You may remember me mentioning a phenomenon called aposematism, which is when an animal advertises its dangerous nature to potential predators, mostly through bright, contrasting colouration. Well, that is the function of the bright patterns on the spider's abdomen. It is warning potential predators that they are going to hurt their mouths on the sharp spines should they try to eat the spider.
This is the larger, showier female. The smaller male is of blander colouration with much reduced spines. The advantage of the males being smaller is that they have a smaller energy requirement giving them more mobility and agility. This needed when he is forced to leave his web in search of a sedentary female. Her larger size enables her to produce more eggs.
Another beautiful photo taken by Dave De Vos from "The Croft's" (U19). This time of one of my favourites, the Olive Woodpecker, Dendropicos griseocephalus, a small, quiet and very beautiful bird that frequents our evergreen forests and thick riparian bush. They are small for a woodpecker, pretty and quite secretive, normally only exposed by their call, which is woodpeckerish, but still unique.
It's a nice shot, because it shows the zygodactyl toes, although they are not positioned correctly in the photo (I think it was moving its foot when the shutter snapped closed), and the tail feathers anchoring the bird against the substrate, a characteristic of all woodpeckers.
These birds forage in pairs, albeit widely distributed, with the occasional soft contact call to stay in touch. They eat anything of the correct size by probing for victims under loose bark, amongst mosses and lichens, cracks in the bark of the stems or, like most woodpeckers, they tap on dead branches and find the tunnels of wood boring beetle larvae, home in and excavate a hole where the tunnel ends, ie. the beetle larvae sits, insert their telegraphic barbed tongues, stab the grub and then pull it out and swallow it! Yummy!
They are monogamous, but for only the season, so next season they will rack up with somebody else. The pair jointly excavate a new hole for the season in a tree trunk and build a nest inside. The hole is not used again for breeding but is often used later on as a roost in which they sleep every night, although they are constantly harassed by the pesky Red-winged Starlings, the rats of the mountains, who commandeer their holes on many occasions.
A thing though: they are pretty common here and we see them quite regularly, but I have never, yet, seen a Scaly-throated Honeyguide, Indicator variegatus, here before. They are brood parasites - like a Cuckoo that lays its eggs in another bird's nest, and the other mother raises their young often to the detriment of the host species' brood - on this woodpecker, and so I would expect them to occur here. Please let me know if you have seen or heard one here.
They are sedentary all around their range, but like many other sedentary species, they are local migrants when it comes to the higher-lying mountains of the escarpment, like we are here. This is because it gets a liiiiitle too cold here and they therefore move down to the coastal forests where they tolerate the stresses they encounter from violating locals' space, just to get on before they return to good old home.
There's no better camouflage than covering yourself with your surroundings. We stumbled upon this Water Scorpion, Laccotrephes sp., when we were on the Brewery Hike on Easter Saturday. It was hiding just beneath the surface of the water in a puddle formed by water leaking from the bank on the side of the road.
A water Scorpion is a bug from the Hemiptera order of insects. Bugs are characterised by the presence of a "beak", a tube-like structure (probiscis) which is designed to pierce integument (also that of your finger if you are foolish enough to handle one) and suck juices from either a plant's vascular system in vegetarians, or the juices from the body of another animal in predators. Bugs are also hemimetabolic, meaning they have a simple life cycle: egg, nymph, adult (as opposed to holometabolic: egg, larva, pupa, adult, like in beetles).
They are poor swimmers, so hang around in the shallows, enabling them to walk on the bottom in search of a good spot to ambush potential prey. If no good cover is found, the Water Scorpion will cover itself with dust from the bottom of the pond, like the individual in the photo.
When they require oxygen, they will only break the surface with the tip of their long siphon, just like a snorkel, extending from the tip of their abdomen on the floor. In the photo above, you will notice the siphon extended up, towards the camera, and the tip is just above the raised water created by surface tension (the small white dot on the extreme right, in the centre between top and bottom of the photo). Air passes down this tube into a chamber beneath the elytra (folded wings) where it can be used later (like an oxygen tank on the back of a diver).
Once a good hiding place is located, the bug will lie in wait until a potential prey item approaches close enough, and bang! The raptorial forelegs, like those on a Praying Mantid, shoot out and grip the victim and hold it tight while the probiscis is stabbed into the victim's body, and the juices sucked out. Potential prey may include aquatic invertebrates, like Dragonfly larvae, tadpoles or even small fish.
So, although they resemble a scorpion, the "sting" merely a breathing tube, and there is no venom present, so except for a painful (I've heard) bite from the probiscis, the animal is pretty harmless. Unless you are a tadpole or such.....
A very round head with an inquisitive stare! It's an African Wood Owl, Strix woodfordii, in its acclimatisation enclosure at K9 Cafe (U9). It is one individual of a group of three orphaned siblings of these owls, at the end of their acclimatisation period at the moment who will be released any day now.
We've had a good relationship with the Dullstroom Bird of Prey and Rehabilitation Centre (visit their website www.birdsofprey.co.za) near the lovely little town after which it is named, since the initial Covid lockdown in early twenty-twenty. I'm sure you all know of the place, since most of you drive past it on the way here from the Big Smoke. Many of you have even visited and enjoyed one of their spectacular demonstrations, where you get to see some of our most magnificent raptors up close.
Our relationship began in late March twenty-twenty, while we were in the first of the COVID-19 lockdowns, David, our then staff supervisor, found a wounded Cape Eagle Owl at Cochy-Bundhu (unit 1). We noticed it was wounded but it could still fly, albeit very weakly. After attempts to feed it with trapped rats failed, Don contacted the Dullstroom centre and Magdali Theron, a passionate animal protector, came all the way out here to collect the owl. Unfortunately, the owl was past saving and died two days later. (refer my blog: FINSBURY AUTUMN WILDLIFE 2020)
Then, more recently, during the winter of 2023, the Twiggs' from "the Crofts" (unit 19) found the carcass of a Cape Vulture on the Spekboom river. I recovered the carcass, and because they are such an endangered and iconic species, I contacted the Dullstroom centre to report it. Once again, Magdali came over to Lydenburg where I met her and handed over the carcass for a post-mortem to discover the cause of death. There was a crack on its beak which was characteristic of the wound suffered by these birds after a collision with power lines, which we have running over the Spekboom at the spot where it was found. (refer my blog of WINTER 2023)
Then Magdali contacted Don in March 2024 and requested that they be allowed to release a pair of Serval and a Cuckoo Hawk on the estate. Don naturally agreed it was a good idea and so, on February thirteenth, Dullstroom Bird of Prey and Rehabilitation Centre arrived here with a young sibling pair of Serval cats and a beautiful Cuckoo Hawk (refer my blog of Animal Release Finsbury)
Since then, they have released a few Cape Eagle Owls and African Wood Owls here. To acclimatise, these owls are kept and fed in Trish Myburgh's (U9) vegetable garden enclosure for a month or so, then the enclosure is opened, allowing them to fly out, although this can take a while. This is where the above siblings are about now.
These are the only forest-dwelling owls in the region and so enjoy a very patchy distribution. I have never seen a wild one here on the estate and was first alerted to their presence by David Dampier (U2) who heard one calling in the Steenkamps valley long before any were released here. He certainly had the best description I have heard for the soft hooting call: "Sounds like the noise somebody makes when touched inappropriately!" - hilarious!
They live in monogamous pairs in small territories of as little as fifty hectares and feed on insects, small roosting birds, centipedes, small rodents and frogs.
And finally, a little information on our management fires:
This, seen from Hidden Valley looking west, is a "beautiful" evening patch mosaic fire burning from above Kliprots Creek (U2), up to the Miner's Cottage Road.
Since your visits here from January, you may have noticed the many scars of smaller fires all over the estate. These were controlled fires, following a patch mosaic fire regime. I have given brief rundowns on this subject a few times in the past but feel it is necessary to go over it again a little more thoroughly, to help explain these odd patterns on the mountains.
Firstly, the patch mosaic fire regime is a relatively newly adopted regime that tries to simulate dry and wet lightning fires during the rainy season on the eastern escarpment. It is a regime used by the Mpumalanga Tourism and Parks Agency and is being used further afield more and more. It apparently was inspired by the practices of Australasian Aboriginals in the past. The idea is that, with this modus operandi, the fire is as healthy as a fire can be. The soil is still wet underneath after the fire, so seeds and exposed roots etcetera are left undamaged, and many fauna species easily escape to safety, as opposed to a hot, dry fire.
It gets a little more complicated, so that one must provide a hot fire on occasion when woody plants begin to dominate again. The paradox is that hot fires kill the woody plants, cool fires don't, so every now and again, a hot fire is again necessary. It is random, but a pattern develops over a decade or so.
Let me explain the facts as I, together with my mentors, interpret them. There are many different fire regimes out there that cater for different human needs, like farming or hunting. One must remember that we are dealing with our specific area and that large herbivore carrying capacity is not our main objective, simply because we don't have many of them and we are not a farm, so our protocols may differ from other fire regimes. Hell, I've seen so many different ideas and reasons for burning that it would be difficult to generalise.
But, in our situation, where biodiversity and water absorption are our main objectives, this is how I can try to explain it:
We are part of a water catchment reserve because we are the source of some of the many tributaries that fill the mighty Olifants river that flows east through the Kruger National Park and beyond to empty into the Indian Ocean. The grassland biome in which we reside is a natural sponge that absorbs water during our high rainfall seasons into the massive aquifer that we are. In this instance, an aquifer is defined as an area of porous sedimentary rock, our estate, in a high rainfall area that absorbs water and lets it out slowly in springs, through friction, so that streams flow throughout the year, even during the four or five months of dry winter.
Key to the functioning of this sponge is the grass in the grasslands.
Grasses are designed to be in a severely crowded situation, so they can grow up close together and with their relatively upright leaves and can survive comfortably without too much competition in this crowded situation. So, when the rain falls, the water is forced to linger in these forests of upright leaves, encouraging it to absorb into the ground instead of rushing off downhill.
Woody plants, on the other hand, appear like a continuous sward across the fields like grasses do, but have a stem and a canopy so, although they are close together, below the canopy there is a large gap on the ground between the stems, which is often bare because it is too shaded for other plants to grow. This results in sheetwash erosion, because, during rainfall, the water runs freely downhill between these stems instead of being forced to absorb by the vertically growing grass plants. This, in turn, results in more run-off and less absorption of the water and a shallower aquifer that will not be able to supply water perennially, or continuously, throughout the dry season, resulting in an environmental catastrophe.
I must now add that grasslands are the only biome that require outside influencing factors, apart from geography and climate, to remain relevant, and those are fire and / or grazing pressure. So, if a grassland is not grazed and or burned relatively regularly, it will retrogress into a woodland, which, if instigated by man, would also be an environmental catastrophe.
You see, this is the grasses' secret: Their meristem, the growing point on the plant, is situated at the very base of the plant / leaf, right at ground level, so if you cut the leaf blade, it will just continue growing like a fingernail would. A woody plant's meristem is at the apex of the plant, so if you cut it, it has to begin again and coppice from below the cut. Therefore, if grasses can dominate, they will only manage to avoid serious competition with encroaching woody plants with the help of fire and / or grazing, because then they can grow close together and squeeze those woody plants out.
If grasses are not burned or grazed, in other words, if their old, dead leaves are not pruned, they will begin to shade themselves and their neighbours with these plumes of dead leaves after a few seasons of growing and create gaps between the grass plants. This is when encroaching woody plants begin to establish themselves, in these gaps. They then grow higher than the surrounding grass plants and begin to shade them and everybody else. So, after ten or less years of no grazing and or burning, your grasslands begin to retrogress into a diversity-poor sort of fynbos, and ultimately into an ecologically unproductive, species-poor woodland.
We are in an area prone to dry thunderstorms like most of the high lying grasslands on the entire escarpment and are subjected to the odd, random dry lightning strike. The fires started by these strikes do not get a chance to burn very widely because of our roads, firebreaks and firefighting efforts, but if it wasn't for these unnatural obstacles, these rare, random fires would burn for tens-of-thousands of hectares before the next rains doused the flames.
Also, before we got here and really altered the environment with roads and fencing, this place would be filled with thousands of large herbivores grazing in the summertime and moving to the lower-lying sweetveld during the wintertime. This is solely because we are a mesic grassland, that is a grassland that is exposed to very low temperatures in the winter, resulting in deadly frost. Our grasses, therefore, have to try to absorb all nutrients into their roots for the cold season, rendering the protein content of the grass leaves above ground, the grasses that those herbivores eat, much lower than the same species of grass in the lower-lying, warmer sweetveld areas.
We have extremely little grazing pressure here in our grasslands compared to a natural, unimpeded migratory situation, so fires become even more important. So, we are left to burn multiple small patch mosaic burns to try to maximise the diversity, therefore the health, of our grasslands.
This strategy is proving to be very beneficial because it uses much less resources than original fire practices, relieves us of having to burn all usual firebreaks later on and because it minimises the fuel load in the grasslands, reducing the chances of serious, out-of-control fires that we may have to fight at the end of the dry season, endangering lives and property, exhausting for all and very bad for the environment!
Come for a walk with me and I will be able to explain it with the help of my props, the grassland species.
This is a photo of the first / second leg (depends on who you are) of the Brewery Hike, a traditional outing we enjoy on Easter Saturday every year, weather permitting. It includes less than half of the very large group that we had this year, resting atop the egg hill, waiting for the laggers to arrive.
It is one of the many trails available on the estate, either to traverse on your own, or with me as a guide. The trails are laid out in your house files (in each house), with all the information you will need to complete them on your own. Remember, one doesn't have to stick to any trail, the mountains, gorges and grasslands are all yours to explore, as long as you do it safely: Use a map or the Finsbury app; take a radio with spare battery; and let others know what you are planning.
Winter's on its way, quickly. Temperatures have plummeted this first week of May and mid-winter is close on the heels. Water levels are still nice and high, so this is a good time to visit. welcome!
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