Rose and Julius stood by a small wire-fenced enclosure near the empty jackal den, at the base of the escarpment on Borana Conservancy.
“What do you think?” asked Julius.
“It looks good to me.” She shook the metre-high fence. “Safe and secure, and those white thorn acacia trees will provide plenty of shade during the day.”
It was half past ten and already Rose could feel the heat from the sun on her head. She was relieved she’d remembered to bring a small, floppy, wide-brimmed hat with her as it also protected her eyes from the glare of the sun.
“Shall we get started?” she asked, and they moved across to two safari vehicles which the Mount Kenya Resort and Spa had kindly lent them to move the jackals. Julius had also brought four of his orphanage staff, who gingerly lifted large plastic crates out of the back of the cars.
“Your friend Dr Emma found us the crates. They’ve been lent to us by British Army families who brought their dogs with them when they were posted to the training base in Nanyuki.”
He moved towards two of his staff. “Stand at each end of the crate and lift it. Rather than one of you walking backwards, turn around so you are both walking sideways,” he instructed. He stepped back as they lifted the crate. “Steady, keep it level, and no jerky movements. The jackals will be worried enough after their long bumpy journey.”
Rose and Julius shut the enclosure gate and stood outside, watching as the cages were opened. One jackal emerged.
“That’s the male one,” commented Julius.
“How do you know?”
“We were going to fit them with GPS tracking collars, but they were too bulky, so after we weighed each of them, back at the orphanage, we shaved a different shaped area of hair on their bottoms so we can quickly identify them.”
“What a clever idea.”
Rose watched two more jackals emerge to explore their surroundings, whilst the fourth remained in its crate.