Nguni Photo Shoot

The first time I heard of Nguni cattle, I was staying in a cottage on the Reenendal Road outside Knysna and preparing to ride the annual Rotary 50km mountain bike cycle ride. The farm we stayed on had recently bought a small breeding herd that roamed the paddocks. All I can remember was the stunning markings and the farmer telling me that the Nguni were an indigenous breed dating back to the migration of the Zulu tribes into the southern African region that were disease resistant. They even had their own breed standard and registry which can be viewed here. I was thrilled to discover that Green Fountain, the farm we are staying on outside Port Alfred, has a breeding herd. The lowing call could be heard emanating from the thick bush in the area next to our campsite, but I was unable to get even a glimpse of the noble beasts.

Permission to photograph the herd was asked for and granted by The Greyling family, owners of the farm. So on a rather overcast morning, long before anyone else, including Tina and the dogs, were stirring, I hoisted my camera bag onto my back and set off to find my royal subjects. The security guard opened the palisade sliding gate, granting me access to the inner sanctuary. A few hundred meters up the dirt road brought me to a typical farm style gate which swung easily on well maintained hinges. As I entered the fenced off enclosure, a startled young calf hurriedly lifted his head from drinking in the low, round, concrete dam. I stopped, un-slung my camera bag and groped for my camera, all the while keeping an eye on a great shot. It stared at me wide eyed, dipped his head once more to slurp the cool water then turned nervously and headed back to the safety of his clan. Damn. Missed a brilliant shot of the animal with great lighting and water dripping from his muzzle. That would teach me to have my camera ready at all times, even when heading towards an intended location.

Camera now at the ready, strap over my right shoulder, I stalked up the hill, not quite sure what to expect from these large beasts. A well defined game/cattle trail led the way into the thick bush. I approached with caution. Entering a clearing, I noted that the bovine herd was well spread out mostly in small clumps. Dazzling patterns and a myriad of colors was my first impression as I encountered the noble animals. Mottled, speckled, spotted, plain, and everything in between. It is rumored that Shaka, the notorious Zulu King, upon realising the social significance of these remarkable animals, took control of his nations entire  herd in order to enhance his status and personal wealth. He was also actively involved in the husbandry and set out to breed animals with specific color characteristics that matched the different military divisions. White being the highest prized color skins for the royal guard. I spotted several white calves in the herd and wondered how they would have fared in the old Zulu kingdom?

Although the Nguni are now considered to be indigenous to Southern Africa, there are a hybrid of the local cattle crossed with an imported Indian breed. Besides their varied color, they are mostly sought after for their disease resistant qualities and their prolific breeding. I moved slowly into the middle of the herd, most of the animals seemed weary of my presence and moved away from me as I approached. Great for now, but I was on the lookout for the herd bull. How was he going to react to another male in the midst of his harem? The early morning light was muted by the partly cloudy conditions, providing excellent light for my work. I clicked away, all the while keeping a lookout for the big boy. Not knowing much about cattle and almost nothing about Nguni, I had no idea what to expect. Visions of bulls charging along the narrow cobble streets of Pamplona kept popping into my head, young men dressed in sacrificial white impaled on rapier sharp horns, a crimson tide seeping through the snow white. Was I going to end up impaled Nguni style, but without the audience or the rumble of hooves on the cobbled streets.

There was no mistaking the herd bull when he emerged into the clearing from a thicket of pungent Milkwood trees. Massive was the first thing that came to mind. I nervously glanced around checking my escape route, the nearest tree, anything that might help if this 700kg hulk decided to challenge me. I slung my camera over my shoulder and just watched as he sauntered down the slight slope. He was in close attendance of a white coated cow that seemed to take no notice of his dotage. He glanced at me but seemed to be much more interested in the female than some two legged interloper. I breathed a sigh of relief and brought my camera up into the all action position. I snapped off a few pics of the big boy, then feeling more relaxed, concentrated on the rest of the herd around me. A suckling calf nosed his mother’s teets, encouraging the milk flow. Click, click. I was in my element. I was so engrossed in my viewfinder. It becomes my only reality when I’m taking pictures. I felt a rough tongue against my leg. I took my eye from the viewfinder to see a small gathering of fans. The young male calves, pubescent horns peeking out of their shaggy crowns, had gathered around me to investigate this intruder. I had been crouched on one knee to get a better vantage point. My diminished stature must have given them the courage to approach and investigate. It was only when I stood up straight hat they nervously backed off, paused, then approached again. The curiosity of the youth was endearing. Wherever I moved, my escort of young bucks kept a constant vigil over the intruder.

I had photographed most of the herd and decided to seek out the herd bull and his white concubine. I cautiously moved from thicket to clearing. Finally I spotted the huge spread of horns moving into a clearing to my left. I waited , camera at the ready. He sauntered through a shadowed glade and finally into a sunlit clearing. Perfect. I clicked off several shots. He was almost oblivious of my presence as he shadowed the female. She must have been very close to coming into season. As I watched, she began to urinate. He positioned his snout in the stream dowsing himself in urine. I watched mesmirised as he lifted his head, eyes closed, and breathed in the scent of her fertility. I was so fascinated by the discerning behavior of this huge beast, that I almost forgot to take pictures. I luckily managed to capture this special moment just in time.

A few seconds later and I might have missed one of those special moments in life. It obviously wasn’t the right time for any action as the courting couple continued to graze on the lush green grass. As I made my way towards the farm gate and my exit, I noticed that a few of the herd had gathered around the watering trough. I waited for a while to get my cow drinking shot, but none of the herd would oblige. My rumbling tummy reminded me that it was time for breakfast and to perform my morning tea in bed duties. With a last glance at the herd bull still closely escorting his next conquest, I bid farewell to the Nguni herd and headed for home.

View the photo gallery… click here