not one we’d recognize, without
the wildebeest.”
A
AS I DROVE across the
plains, even when I
saw no wildebeests,
I often spotted their
remains—clusters
of bleached ribs, disarticulated
vertebrae, and stark alabaster leg
bones—each identifiable by a
nearby skull adorned with the tell-
tale horns.
I’d heard that one of Sinclair’s
protégés, Grant Hopcraft, an ecol-
ogist at the University of Glasgow,
was studying wildebeest remains—
sort of a CSI: Serengeti. So I called
him up.
I’d assumed most of these were
kills, but Hopcraft discounted that
notion. “People think of wilde-
beests dying from lions, hyenas,
or crocodiles, things like that,” he
said. “But predators account for
only about 25 to 30 percent of the
deaths among adults.” The number
one cause of death? Starvation.
Hopcraft and his team study
wilde beest bones, especially
femurs, the large bones in the upper
hind legs. “One of the things we do
is look at the bone marrow content,”
he said, explaining that even after
death it still holds the animal’s last
reserve of fat.
If the fat content in the marrow
is depleted, it tells him that the ani-
mal had metabolized all the energy
stored in the layers of fat under its
skin and around its organs, even some of its muscle tissue,
and had finally dipped into the emergency reserves in its
bones. At that point, he said, “these animals are what we call
a carcass with a pulse.” A predator may have delivered the
death blow, but only because the animal already was weak-
ened by starvation.
Hopcraft’s team is also studying the hairs from a wildebeest’s
tail. The hairs, roughly a foot long, tell the story of the past year
and a half of the animal’s life. Scientists slice them into tiny
segments representing about two weeks’ growth each, then
analyze them for isotopes and hormones that reveal a wealth
of data about the individual. “Imagine the animal is writing
a diary every day,” Hopcraft said. “ ‘I’m pregnant. I’m hungry.
I’m stressed. This is where I’ve been eating. This is what I’ve
been eating.’ It’s telling you that information.”
And what do these wildebeest diaries reveal? The animals
are always desperately hungry, especially the females. “A
female wildebeest is on the edge of starvation almost its
entire life,” Hopcraft said. “And that’s because they never
stop reproducing.”
He explained that the females are either pregnant or nurs-
ing a calf year-round, and for four months, from June to Sep-
tember, they’re doing both, all while migrating, which puts
huge energy demands on their bodies. “That makes them
completely focused on consuming as much as possible of the
most nutritious grasses until they’re gone,” he said. Then they
have to immediately figure out where the rain is falling, hurry
three or four miles to the next available grazing, and start
eating, competing with the million other wildebeests doing
the exact same thing. “This is the engine of the migration.”
I was reminded of the wildebeest that Charlie had seen run
the Mara River gantlet twice in one day and asked Hopcraft
if hunger would prompt an animal to ignore such obvious
threats. “It could,” he said. “Avoiding predators shapes some
of their behaviors, but starvation is the dominant force.”
M
MANY YEARS AGO, I booked a budget safari out
of Nairobi, and in less than an hour we found
ourselves amid a herd of wildebeests, framed
against the city’s skyline. The air smelled of
DATE
DEC. 20 21
NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC
WELCOME TO EARTH
PAGE
NO. 6 8
STORY
THE UNLIKELY KING