Ghosts of Tsavo: Stalking the Mystery Lions of East Africa

I put off reading Philip Caputo's Ghosts of Tsavo because it begins with a long recounting of Wayne Hosek's killing of the man-eating lions, Ghost and Darkness. Pushing further into the text, I found a wonderful stockpile of first class nature writing, safari lore, scientific examination of what exactly constitutes a species, and philosophizing on the dichotomy between the mysteries of nature and the science that seeks to explain them. The book centers on the author's quest to learn whether the maneless lions of Tsavo National Park in Kenya are, in fact, a distinct species from their plains-dwelling maned cousins. Philip Caputo makes his first journey to Tsavo with an eccentric English guide and leaves convinced the maneless lions with a taste for human flesh are the direct descendents of Paleolithic cave-dwelling lions. At the Field Museum in Chicago, he digs deeper into the research of a self-taught big cat expert (formally employed as an ornithological specimen preparer). Then he returns to Africa with a scientific research team who take a narrow view of this speculative research. The varying viewpoints, coupled with the author's near-death experience and wild ramblings induced by malaria drugs, make for a compelling story and an atmospheric introduction to East Africa's charismatic cats.

Philip Caputo's Ghosts Of Tsavo: Stalking The Mystery Lions Of East Africa blends travelogue with nature in telling of the author's journey to Kenya's Tsavo National Park on foot with his guides, then in companionship with two scientists who seek close encounters with the big cats. Are the maneless lions found in Tsavo a subspecies of African lion, and a missing link? These lions are especially fierce, and the blend of science and adventure here makes for a riveting read.

"Ghosts of Tsavo" is part travelogue, part natural history, part murder mystery, and part mid-life crisis for its author Philip Caputo. What it is as a whole is a fascinating, engaging look at the lions of Tsavo Park in Kenya. Caputo first became interested in these unusual lions as a result of a visit to the Field Museum in Chicago as a young boy. Therein were "Ghost" and "Darkness" two enormous males lions that terrorized constructions workers building a rail line through Tsavo. In fact terrorized may be too weak a word as they are credited with killing at least 120 people and literarily halting construction until they were eventually hunted down and killed by British Lt. Col. Patterson who was heading up the project. He recounted this effort in his famous memoir "The Man Eaters of Tsavo" and kindled a fascination with Kenya's lions that lingered with Caputo for half a century. What sets the lions of Tsavo apart from the more familiar ones we know from nature documentaries, is that they are much bigger, and the males are either maneless of have very short manes, in either case nothing like the regal mountains of fur on their cousins from the Serengeti. In the first half of the book, Caputo explores reasons as to why this might by the case. It is possible that since Tsavo is much warmer than the Serengeti, manes are too expensive in terms of internal resources to grow. Another possibility is that the thick scrub brush and thorns of the region wear down manes before they ever become truly impressive. However, it is a more controversial theory that makes for the most entertaining reading. Caputo encounters several scientists who argue that the lions of Tsavo are genetically distinct from the lions on the Serengeti. Moreover, they argue that the lions of Tsavo are in fact a throw back to prehistoric lions, quite literally walking fossils. The point to the lack of manes, the much larger height and girth and the fact that Tsavo lions hunt the enormous Cape Buffalo as justifications for this thesis. Ultimately, Caputo, in three journeys to Kenya over the course of eighteen months (once as a tourist and twice with scientific expeditions) is never able to definitively state which hypothesis is correct. However, that in no way detracts from his rambling, conversational narrative. Caputo is not a scientist, and he in no way pretends to be one, although he does (and justifiably so) consider himself a well-informed observer. As such, he is not constrained by the rigors of academia, and can therefore transfer his passion for these lions and the mystery surrounding them onto the page. In fact, towards the end he grows weary of the scientific studies as they somehow detract from the powerful aura that surrounds the lions. If you are interested in lions in general, or if the prospect of some spine-tingling tales of man-eating lions sounds appealing, "Ghost of Tsavo" is well worth reading. However, beyond the surface elements, Caputo has writ

If you have ambitions to be a writer,avoid reading this book sinceit,ll just fill you with envy. Every word has the right nuance,thesentences run like limpid streams , the gentle humor pervasiveand the opinions expressed thoughtful. Can anyone, for instance,argue with the statement that nearly every problem that we faceis caused or aggravated by the fact that are just too many of us.The excellence of this book should come as no surprise sincethe author is none other than ex-marine who also gave us the bestaccount by a combatant (on our side) of the Great Crusade in Vietnam.The subject of the present book are the lions of Tsavo who areless manely but defintely more manly than the other membersof their species and have developed a taste for the human fleshand their appetizers include not only the skeletal locals but alsoan occasional tourist who had loved nature not wisely but onlytoo well. Two groups of American academics are engaged in a bitterfight over the reasons behind the maneaters obvious lack ofetiquette each trying to capture the lion,s share of grants,honors,etc and finally the holiest of all grails-publication in a "refereed" journal. All of this happenswithin the shouting distance of the hellhole of Nairobi, where,if there is a just God, the final resting place for all of thoseopposed to population control.Nairobi is also the focal point for the activities of the Christ like figure of rock and roll artist and father of six Bono who wants us to pay for the sexual recklessness of the locals (Bono,s millionsdo not enter into the equation) while he residing in one of his mansions ponders new scams to prove his moral superiority. Never mind the insignificance ofthe subjet matter since Captuto can write about yesetrday,sleftovers and make them interesting. After reading this delightfulbook my own take is that there is incontrovertible evidencethat human thugs commit their bestialities because of lack of"self esteem" (it used to be poverty) and it,ll be a great projectfor the dogooding bleeding heart animal rights activists to goto Tsavo and feed Minoxidill to the lions so they could leadpeaceful lives under assumed manes. In the process some ofthe actvistis may become canapes for the lions and that,llbe just wonderful.

Watch for The Ghosts of Tsavo to find a well-deserved spot on the best-seller lists. Caputo blends one bit travelogue with a splash of John McPhee, frappes it with some exciting writing, then serves it over the rocks of some hard scientific facts. This is a yarn, but a great one. The prologue is, hands down, the best story of someone hunting a man eating lion I have ever read. But this is not the "Jaguars Clawed My Flesh" school of big cat writing. His is a journey of exploration of the old school, similar to an expedition in the 19th Century from the Field Museum, which inspired Caputo as a child. Scientists will be happy to see he balances all of this with reason. Romantics will be happy to see he balances science with emotion. He has a gift, too, of beginning a personal rant on a point of politics and philosphy, and then doubling back on himself and to laugh at himself. He explores myths and explodes myths. Yet there is a romantic side to him that values them and the unknown. A good read, good reporting. Buy it, if the theme appeals to you at all, or if you ever looked up, as Caputo did as a child, at the great stuffed cats in museums.