My Thoughts on Seeing Predation While on Safari
- BooneThomson
- May 30
- 4 min read
I just read a post on the Yellowstone Facebook page. A woman said she would like to visit Yellowstone but wouldn’t go if there was a chance of seeing an animal being killed. I know—it’s kind of a strange post. She said she loves animals and couldn’t bear to see one get killed. To me, that’s a really odd reason not to visit a place as beautiful and iconic as Yellowstone. First, the chances of actually witnessing a kill in Yellowstone are very low. I’ve been numerous times and never seen one. Second, no one is going to force her to watch it. She could simply drive on or look the other way.
While the odds are slim in Yellowstone, the chances of witnessing predation on an African safari—especially in places like the Maasai Mara during the Great Migration—are high.
Early in my wildlife photography journey, I wanted to photograph a kill. Capturing animal behavior was always a goal, and nothing conveys raw emotion like the sheer terror in a prey animal’s eyes when it's caught by a predator. As my friend and safari guest Chuck Bryan once said, “We are seeing live theater in the wild.” I had seen images of Nile crocodiles with mouths wide open, ready to chomp down on a wildebeest or zebra. I wanted that shot. On my first visit to Africa in 2015, we witnessed a river crossing during our very first game drive. A huge crocodile—easily 20 feet long—grabbed a wildebeest from the riverbank and dragged it into the water. I fired off shot after shot, watching the scene unfold through my viewfinder. When all that remained visible were the animal’s nostrils barely above the water, I had to look away. I felt genuinely sorry for the wildebeest. It had put up a good fight, but it was no match for that prehistoric beast—still the largest croc I’ve seen. I turned my camera toward the thousands of other wildebeests crossing the river. After a minute or two, I glanced back—and was stunned. A hippo had moved into the scene, and suddenly, the wildebeest was crawling up the riverbank. You could see the puncture wounds in its side, but somehow it stammered back to its feet and rejoined the herd.
Since then, I’ve witnessed many hunts and kills. Believe it or not, I have another great escape story.
We were at the edge of the Mara River as zebra and wildebeest were preparing to cross. The bank was steep, so we couldn’t see what was below us. Suddenly, the zebra made a sharp U-turn and popped up right in front of us. They had seen something and turned back. The wildebeests, with poorer eyesight, kept going. That “something” was a female lion waiting on the other side of the river. As the wildebeest scrambled up the opposite bank, she pounced on a calf. I captured the moment she leapt onto its back and brought it down. As big cats do, she clamped her jaws around its throat. Soon the little wildebeest went limp. She released her grip and looked up, then made an unexpected choice—she moved on to stalk larger prey. This was unusual behavior. Typically, predators begin feeding immediately after the kill—or even before it’s fully dead. A few minutes later, to our astonishment, the calf stood up. Wobbly but alive, it had somehow survived and rejoined its herd.
These days, I no longer hope to see a kill. I have too much empathy for the prey animal. Yes, I understand it’s the circle of life. If the lion or leopard doesn’t eat, they—and their cubs—will starve. I don’t want to see that either.
While I don’t enjoy watching an animal take its final breath, I do love witnessing the hunt. Most hunts end in failure, and the process itself is incredibly thrilling—the predator locking onto its target, stalking through the grass, then launching into a powerful, full-speed chase.
Not all kills are the same. Some are more brutal than others. It can take a lion a long time to kill a buffalo. Warthogs are also difficult because of their thick necks, which makes it hard for predators to suffocate them. On the other hand, a cheetah or leopard can quickly subdue an impala or gazelle. The most unpleasant kills to watch are by hyenas—they simply eat their prey alive.
Although these scenes sound horrifying, nature has its own way of lessening the suffering. An adrenaline surge, shock, and even neurological shutdown can reduce pain. Some scientists have found that leopards may bite into a nerve bundle that temporarily anesthetizes the animal. Painted dogs do something similar, targeting nerves in the nostrils.
While I know none of my safari guests want to see an animal suffer, it is fascinating to witness raw nature. And if it ever becomes too much, there’s always the option to turn away—or ask the driver to move on to something else.
Below are images capturing predation. If images of animals being killed bother you, stop here.
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