The most disapproving view of rhyme is that it is a merely decorative element. This idea has been promoted by many writers for many years—and it may well be the dominant view now. Part of the objection to rhyme is the fear that rhyme may dictate the poetry, compelling poets to express themselves otherwise than they would have intended. An extreme illustration of the importance of rhyme is the once fashionable game of bouts-rimés, in which players were given the rhymes for a poem they would then have to write. An especially good example of what this could mean comes from an anonymous eighteenth-century poem, “The Poetess’s Bouts-Rimés”:

In its diction and its sentiments, this is clearly a very conventional poem of the period, one that conforms to received ideas about eighteenth-century poetry and about women’s poetry. What follows is, to put it mildly, less conventional: the only words in the remaining eight lines are the rhyme words, which appear in the following order: “desire,” “fire,” “lie,” “thigh,” “wide,” “ride,” “night,” “delight.” “The Poetess’s Bouts-Rimés” gestures toward the possibility of a poem that is only rhyme without anything else at all.

Rhyme is not usually as important as it in this poem, of course. To me, one of the most interesting looks at the limitations of rhyme comes from Andrew Marvell’s poem “On Mr Milton’s Paradise Lost,” which was first printed in 1674 in the second edition of Milton’s poem. After discussing the many strengths of the poem as a whole, Marvell addresses the then unusual fact that Milton’s epic does not rhyme: “Well mightst thou scorn thy Readers to allure / With tinkling Rime” (45-6). He goes on to dismiss rhyme as merely a kind of accessory that “we for fashion wear” (50) and then gracefully admits his own complicity in the matter: “I too transported by the Mode offend, / And while I meant to Praise thee must Commend” (51-2).

Energy is the lifeblood of all modern societies. As the central prerequisite to large-scale industrial development and economic growth since the Industrial Revolutions, energy has grown into the perennial symbol of modernity as well as into a formidable bargaining chip in political negotiations, whether national or international. Since the second half of the twentieth century especially, energy stakes have interlocked with security and dependence concerns, which granted them a singular place as a public policy domain of strategic national interest. As US political scientist George Gonzalez underlined, energy has been instrumental in triggering structural revolutions over the past 600 years:

In that sense, energy has always bolstered the sovereignty of the modern state which conversely has proven to be equally critical for its politicisation. As the several conflicts which have broken out in the Middle East since the 1990s or the more recent tensions between Russia and Western Europe over the Russian Pipeline Nord Stream 2 have revealed, energy remains a fundamentally hegemonic and geopolitical device.

By the turn of the twenty-first century, this dynamic had not abated – quite the opposite. Countless alarmist reports have one after the other drawn media attention onto the predicted end of the age of fossil fuels, heralding an escalation of fuel prices in a foreseeable future. According to energy economist Dieter Helm, these changes will cause future realignments in the balance of the world's international energy markets, which will be symptomatic of a paradigmatic shift similar to the advent of the oil age at the beginning of the twentieth century. This much-heralded energy transition has thus led industrial states to once again redefine and rethink their domestic energy strategies – if ever they existed. Since the 1970s’ oil shocks, most Western states’ policies have thus been guided by a strategic search for relative energy independence.

Introduction

While industry awards and insider accounts suggest, contra Wikipedia, that Southern African locales and filmmakers have been central to the genre in the past half-century, what have academics made of their contribution? In spite of its reach, there is almost no criticism within Southern Africa of the genre or its major figures or of Southern African practitioners from international critics. Part of the difficulty – and appeal – of doing this study is that there is so little scholarly material. Hundreds of millions, probably billions, of people may have watched and been influenced by these films, but there is hardly any analysis of them.

Studies of African Wildlife Documentary

The late Jean Hartley wrote the only book on African wildlife documentary: Africa’s Big Five and Other Wildlife Filmmakers (Hartley 2010). She had an unparalleled insider’s sense of the industry because she acted for a quarter of a century as the leading ‘fixer’ or local agent, based in Nairobi, for many British and American film crews wanting to film in Kenya or elsewhere in East Africa. She also had what must have been the world’s leading private collection of wildlife films on DVD and video as well as a large collection of books on wildlife film. When I visited her in Nairobi, she generously gave me access to her collection of filmed material and shared her insights and recollections.

Her major claim, as the title indicates, is that five major figures emerge as the most distinguished practitioners of African wildlife documentary: Des Bartlett, Alan Root, Bob Campbell, Simon Trevor, and Hugo van Lawick. (Only Van Lawick makes it onto Wikipedia.) What distinguishes these figures was that they settled in East Africa and worked there for long periods, knowing the animals and terrain intimately and often innovating in trying to find new ways of filming, as in Alan Root’s balloon trips or underwater contraption to film hippos at Mzima Springs.

Hartley quotes David Attenborough explaining why he did not try to make television programmes in East Africa: ‘I realized I was on a hiding onto nothing, with people like Armand Denis and Alan Root actually living there and being able to devote far more time than I could’ (99).

The sixth of February, 2020, brought a convoy of trucks driving through the streets of Salem and around Oregon's capital building honking their horns as an indication of their presence. They were organized by a group called Timber Unity that represents Oregonians who work the land as foresters, loggers, ranchers, truckers, miners, fishermen and farmers. They and their representatives were in opposition to the proposed cap-and-trade climate legislation that they believed would negatively impact their livelihoods. Their protest represented a cultural divide between the increasingly population dense areas of the cities along the Interstate 5 (I-5) corridor from Portland to Eugene and the rural less populated landmass of Oregon from the small towns along the Pacific coast to the river valleys of southern Oregon to the Cascade Range of central Oregon and the high desert and range land of eastern Oregon. Each honk of a truck was a reminder of Oregon's history as a resource-based economy from the time that the Indigenous groups settled the land 15,000 plus years ago through the arrival of fur traders and settlers in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

The following September on Labor Day weekend of 2020 a wind storm swept through Oregon's drought-ridden forests along the western Cascade Range downing trees and power lines and setting off the worst set of fires in the Oregon's history. The fires killed at least 10 people, burned more than 1,000,000 acres and destroyed hundreds of homes. Major population centers along the I-5 corridor from the suburbs of Portland to Salem and Eugene were threatened. The cities of Talent and Phoenix in southern Oregon were destroyed as well as towns along the Santiam Highway between Salem and Bend. Hazardous smoke was in the air for two weeks and people were cautioned to stay indoors. When the rain returned, the residue from the fires cascaded down the hills and mountains creating long-term problems for drinking water, and the denuded hillsides were at a risk for landslides. Scientists commenting on the situation suggested that in an era of global warming fires should not have come as a surprise.

The forest fires of September 2020 reignited the battle lines that have been the history of Oregon's decades-long environmental debate.

Introduction

While several Southern Africans had tried to make films in the Kruger National Park and elsewhere in Southern Africa before the arrival of the Wild Kingdom and Survival teams, the successes and themes of the foreign crews seem to have spurred several local initiatives in the early 1970s – some with distinctly political motivations attached to them. In particular, the South African Department of Information saw the positive possibilities of wildlife conservation highlighting South Africa’s successes at a time when its trusteeship of South-West Africa was coming under increasing scrutiny.

Before 1974

In his summary of developments in the KNP before 1945, Stevenson-Hamilton commented that:

David Bunn has analysed ways in which some local insiders had privileged access to water-holes or prime viewing spots for photography (Bunn 2003), but when it came to film, the foreign professionals seemed to enjoy privileges that were resented by locals who complained, for example, that the Americans could use ‘skerms’ or hides whereas they were not allowed to.

Beinart and Coates state that the Kruger had made several films attacking elephant poaching, but I have found no trace of those (Beinart and Coates 2002). The most influential of the local amateur film-makers may have been influential as an example of what not to do! Michael Rosenberg speaks in an interview of how he watched his father filming at random and then struggling to compose anything coherent with his footage. His father’s experiences led Rosenberg to decide to do things differently and to shoot more purposefully, but had his father not experimented and got things wrong, Rosenberg may never have started filming and editing in the way he did.

Rhinos

If one judged the influence of documentaries by how the culture at large takes them up, particularly in feature films, then the rescue of the white rhino from extinction in the Natal (now KZN) Parks Umfolozi and Hluhluwe should have been a central theme.

Landscape

Lush forests, towering mountains, plenty of rain and misty fog are the general image of Oregon. The High Desert, located primarily in Harney and Malheur Counties, has a total population of less than 50,000 in the 20,125 square miles in which 75 percent of the land is owned by the Federal government. New York Times travel writer Suzanne Carmichael wrote, “Oregon's remote high-desert country is a little-known and remarkably diverse region that covers nearly one-quarter of the state. Wind-seared desert and lush wetlands border stunning geologic formations; pelicans and trumpeter swans fly over pockmarked lava beds, and dry winds sweep through ghost towns where sheepherders used to spend the winter months.”

The terrain of the High Desert was formed by a series of lava flows that consistently erupted from miles-long vents from 10 to 30 million years ago. The consequence is that the area has been consistently pulled westward in a continuing geologic process that eventually causes earthquakes. The result is a series of Basins or valleys separated by mountain Ranges—Alvord Desert to Steens Mountain, Lake Albert to Albert Rim, Summer Lake to Winter Ridge. Divided into a southern region and a northern region, the southwest region is part of the Great Basin and the southeast is the lower Owyhee River watershed. The region averages 15 inches of annual rainfall; the Alvord Desert in southeast Oregon in the shadow of the Steens Mountains receives a bare 7 inches of rain each year (Figure 4).

There are a few places in the High Desert, such as the Jordan Craters lava field, where volcanism occurred as recently as 3,000 years ago. The continuing geological influence of the deep sources of underground heat accounts for the High Desert's geothermal resources, including Alvord Hot Springs, Lakeview's Hunter Hot Springs, as well as those located near Vale, Oregon.

This chapter covers another pillar of policy implementation: the economic and financial facets of market regulation (1989–2016). According to Christopher Hood's taxonomy, the allocation of financial resources, or treasure in its restricted meaning, is one of the four key instruments of state leadership capacity. Over the past thirty years, this economic incentive mechanism has undergone major changes. As previously stated, governance literature has extensively demonstrated how privatisation and deregulation policies substantially eroded states’ capacity to influence markets, which gained control over public services to steer industrial strategy as per the much fashionable mantra of ‘markets know best’. In turn, states have mainly acted to facilitate market expansion in a new neoliberal paradigm that US constitutional theorist Philip Bobbitt had already dubbed ‘market state’ in 1989, subsequent to ‘the age of the nation-state’. Much has been written in state theory throughout the 1990s-early 2000s on how market states have thus sought to pursued a two-pronged mission to defend consumers’ interests while maximising markets’ economic opportunities through deregulation, subcontracting and outsourcing for service-providing activities. The state has thus adopted market practices while retreating from financial and economic circles to take on a role of market steerer through loose regulation, becoming a ‘regulatory state’.

These dynamics no doubt throve in the UK context and did not fail to affect the domestic electricity sector through the 1989 Electricity Act. In practice however, and as opposed to what is commonly assumed when referring to classical neoliberal theories, privatisation and deregulation did not equate the end of state financial support to the electricity industry. The first botched attempts to privatisation the UK nuclear sector between 1987 and 1989 had unearthed deep-rooted economic weaknesses that made the industry not competitive enough to stand on its own two feet in the future privatised energy sector. To straighten out the financial records of what later became British Energy, the Major government embraced several indirect interventionist economic mechanisms to prop up the economically unsound nuclear industry, taking advantage of the new international environmental imperatives to sanction polluting fossil fuels as discussed in Chapter Five. It would nonetheless be under the subsequent Labour government, by 2000, that these forms of indirect economic support would be phased out. Paradoxically enough, the erosion of state financial interventionism in the nuclear sector coincided with the general revival in interest for the new nuclear build project.

Have you ever suffered from the cheerless winters of Minnesota?

Judd and Beach point out in Natural States that Oregon's cultural and environmental imagination is part of an evolving narrative “of cherished rural values like open space, clean air and waters, natural scenery, quiet surroundings” that is a perpetuation of the image of “Ouragon—the fabled land of promise.” For example, in 2019, 2.9 million Oregonians camped in Oregon's state parks managed by six National Park Service units, two national monuments, 13 national forests, 47 wilderness areas, one national historic site and two national historic trails. In fact, 52.9 percent of Oregon is federal land. There are also 256 state parks, including camping at 58 parks. Additionally, each city and county includes numerous parks. For example, Oregon's largest city Portland has 10,000 acres of parks and natural areas. Each of these parks and forest sites are managed by a cohort of park rangers and park personnel that care for the park's plants and animals. This includes protecting them from fire.

The forest fires of September 2020, as noted in the introduction of this book, sent a shock wave across Oregon communities. Throughout September and into October, the newspapers across the state ran a series of articles that initially documented the attempts to stop the fires, while later articles covered the devastation to homes, towns and the coveted forest landscapes. The community of sustainability activists felt a specific loss in the death of Oregon environmental icon George Atiyeh who lived in a burned over area of Opal Creek. Nephew of the former governor of Oregon, Victor Atiyeh, George was in the 1970s an advocate for Opal Creek, home to one of the last roadless, uncut forests in the Oregon's Cascades.

Landscape

The Klamath Mountains of southwestern Oregon are a result of some of the earliest conjunctions between exotic terranes and the North American plate. The mountain's geologic history has evolved several distinct ecological communities, including temperate rain forests, moist inland forests, oak forests and savannas, high elevation forests and alpine grasslands. The variety of animals include mountain lions, black bears, bobcats, lynx, raccoons, martens, fishers, beavers, grey fox, red fox, northern flying squirrel and deer. Bird species include golden eagles, bald eagles, pileated woodpecker, band-tailed pigeon, several hawks including goshawks, several large owl species including the spotted owl. The numerous mountains, streams and rivers form a major spawning ground for fish.

The Rogue River Valley was formed as a relatively isolated enclave west of the Cascade Range along the north side of the Klamath Mountains. The Rogue River defines the valley and flows from the east and the Cascade Range through deep canyons in the Coast Range and to the Pacific Ocean at Gold Beach. Historically, the valley was characterized by a mild climate with a long growing season that was especially good for fruits, nuts and herbs. The Rogue Valley and the Klamath Mountains contain extensive forests of Ponderosa pine, Douglas-fir, madrone, manzanita, oak, incense cedar, white fir, Shasta red fir and a diverse mix of shrubs. Along the Rogue River, there are willows, red alder, white alder, black cottonwood and Oregon ash. Boating down the Rogue River, you are greeted with an abundance of flowers—fox gloves, rhododendrons, evening primrose and elegant lilies. Boat trip up the Rogue River provides amazing scenery with Bald eagles flying overhead and deer wandering along the top of the canyon walls. These forests were the center of the timber industry in southern Oregon throughout much of the twentieth century.

Community and the Arts

The population of the original 9,500 inhabitants of the Rogue Valley included speakers of Takelman, Shastan and Athapascan languages to the west and along the coast. Following a series of conflicts, fewer than 2,000 Indian survivors were counted on the reservation in 1857. They moved to either the Grande Ronde or Siletz reservations.

A conclusion is the logical place to wonder, uneasily, about the flaws, weaknesses, inconsistencies, unfulfilled campaign promises and other problems of one’s effort. The morning prayer from the Book of Common Prayer gets the feeling: ‘We have left undone those things / which we ought to have done; / and we have done those things / which we ought not to have done; / and there is no health in us.’

As for what I did that I should not have done? I leave readers – and critics – to decide on that. Left undone? I would have liked to know more about how husband and wife partnerships worked and work. While the standard model may have been the man photographing and the woman recording sound and taking photos, that was certainly not the case throughout. Perhaps Carol Hughes and Jen Bartlett and the Jouberts will still write memoirs. I struggled to get a complete list of film festival prizes because the American awards, whether of Emmys or of other major festivals, proved hard to find.

I would have liked to know more about audiences and the countries where people watched these programmes. Tol Pienaar claimed that Norma Foster’s Wildlife in Crisis had been viewed ‘behind the iron curtain’. Where and what did those viewers make of it? How many people watched WildEarth broadcast in China and what effect might those viewings have? How reliable are claims that some programme was the most watched or the most popular? For whom, when, compared to what? And what effects do wildlife films have on audiences?

And, for a book invoking Latour, where is there a consideration of editing and special effects and all the other people who help produce the final product? What of the role of somebody like David Dickie who brought Pink Floyd into Namib and edited so many of these films? What might there have been that made them ‘his’ films? Though I managed to interview Elmon Mhlongo, what about the many other African figures involved, particularly the San? Surely more should have been said about joy in nature, whether primal or Wordsworthian or in San hunting?

Driving north on Interstate 5 to Portland, I see Mt. Hood dominating the sky line. This mountain, which is only 20 miles east of the city, is a designated active volcano that has consistently erupted over the last 500,000 years. “In fact, geologic studies of the Mount Hood region have identified products of numerous local volcanoes that post-date the great floods of basalt lava (the Columbia River Basalts) that flowed down ancestral valleys of the Columbia River between about 16 and 15 million years ago.” The other dominating geographic feature is the flow of the Willamette River into the Columbia.

The initial name given to the area of today's Portland was the Wapato Valley, a reference to the root-based food that was a staple (also called Camas). This included Sauvie Island the 24,000 acres to the west of the confluence of the Columbia and Willamette Rivers. Wapato Valley inhabitants were organized as distinct villages that shared a common language and culture. The chief of a village was wealthy from the trade along the Columbia and Willamette Rivers and often had more than one wife and many slaves. The Wapato Valley people lived in multifamily red cedar plank houses that had a central hearth and individual family sleeping berths along the walls. “Wives were preferentially from outside villages and were not related by blood to their husbands. Marital ties carried economic rights with them, creating socioeconomic networks that tied villages together.” They used basalt to create tools for everyday life—bowls, pestles, mauls, and axes as well as anthropomorphic sculptures from small amulets to public monuments. The majority of the residents of the Wapato Valley died during the early eighteenth century from diseases brought by the fur traders (Figure 12 ).

In 1846, Francis Pettygrove, arrived, built a business and gave Portland its name after the city in his home state of Maine. Portland's water-based location made it an ideal transit center for those moving agricultural and lumber products from the Willamette Valley to the ports of San Francisco, Seattle, and those in Asia via the Columbia River and the open waters of the Pacific Ocean.

Vale near the Idaho border was fashioned, as were other geographic areas of eastern Oregon, by a number of young volcanoes that erupted about 3 million years ago and covered large areas with lava flows of fluid basalt. The remains of the volcanoes are a series of faults that contain warm or hot ground water that bubbles up and sometimes mixes with local streams and rivers across eastern Oregon. The geothermal aquifer in the Vale area covers approximately 40 acres along a major fault zone. The aquifer discharges into the Malheur River primarily through hot springs with probable additional discharge through the stream bed below river level. These hot springs were a draw for groups beginning with the small roving bands of Paiutes and in the eighteenth century the travelers on the Oregon Trail.

The landscape around Vale is semiarid with limited rainfall but when the rain does come it can create major floods as it did in 1925 and 1957. Two irrigation projects, the Vale Project of the 1930s and the Bully Creek Dam Project on the Malheur River of the 1960s, controlled for potential floods and opened new land to farming and ranching. In the 1970s, there was a large-scale rangeland rehabilitation program of replanting versions of wheat grass and rotation of grazing to mitigate the extensive damage done by overgrazing. Today, a variety of row crops are grown in the valley with dairy cows and beef cattle in the low hills. Each week there is a livestock auction in Vale.

Vale (population around 2.000) is noted for being the first stop in Oregon for settlers on the 2,170-mile Oregon Trail. A memorial to the trail, Keeney Pass Interpretive Site, named for early resident Jonathan Keeney, is on the outskirts of the city center. This designated Oregon National Historic site provides an opportunity to take a less than mile walk along the dusty terrain of the original wagon ruts of Keeney Pass and read along the way stories of the Oregon Trail.

Driving northwest on I-84 from the Oregon/Idaho border, I see Oregon's oldest geologic formation, the Blue Mountains. It is the site of the 271,047 square miles of the Umatilla Indian Reservation and the home of acclaimed artist James Lavadour. The mountains which date back 400 million years cover approximately 15,000 square miles with elevations that range from 3,000 feet to 9,800 feet at Sacajawea Peak. The Blues, as they are often referred to, encompass the Greenhorn Range and the Strawberry, Elkhorn and Wallowa Mountains. They are the consequence of plate tectonics, the subduction process and related terranes. A terrane is a portion of a crust of one tectonic plate that has been forced into a relationship with another plate as a result of the subduction process. A terrane can sometimes refer to an exotic terrane as it may include marine or rock material from places at a distance from the current plate. “Those that make up the Blues, the Wallowa and Olds Ferry terranes originated as island arcs, the Baker Terrane as one or more subduction zone complexes, and the Izee Terrane as a marine basin that developed over the top of the older terranes. Some limestone within these terranes contains fossils of organisms that appear to have lived only in the ancient Tethys Ocean, which was near the site of today's Mediterranean Sea.” The Blues also feature large granite features titled plutons that “cut across many terrane boundaries and appear to stitch them together.” These age-old features have been further transformed by the Earth's volcanic and erosion processes including ice ages that advanced and receded. The result is a landscape that shifts the eye in a myriad of colors from mauve sandstones, to jet black basalts, dark green stones, somber grays and poignant blues (Figure 8).

The Cayuse, Nez Perce, Tenino, Umatilla and Northern Paiute people lived along the mountains and water sheds of the Blue Mountains.

Landscape

The Cascade Range is 260 miles long, 90 miles wide and covers roughly 17,000 square miles about 17 percent of the state of Oregon. The crest of the Cascade Range was built by the continuing eruptions of hundreds of volcanoes ranging in age from a few million years old to just a few hundred. Most of the eruptions created small cinder cones and produced lava flows that covered a few hundred acres to a few square miles. A few larger volcanoes including Mount Hood, the Three Sisters and Mount McLoughlin alternated between lava flows and explosive eruptions of ash, pumice and broken lava. Just 7,700 years ago, Mount Mazama, an active, 12,000-foot-tall high Cascade volcano, exploded in a massive eruption that blew 50 cubic miles of rock and ash into the air. The eruption blanketed the surrounding landscape with red-hot flows of ash and pumice and produced a cloud of ash that rained down over an area covering eight western states and three Canadian provinces. The amount of material erupted covered the entire state to a depth of almost three feet. What was left of the volcano collapsed on itself, leaving a gaping hole that eventually filled with snow melts to form Crater Lake. Lava cliffs rise to heights of up to 2,000 feet around the intensely blue and extremely deep lake.

Most of the largest peaks in the Cascade Range are still considered active volcanoes. This includes the snow caped Mt. Hood at 11,250 feet and similar mountains of the Cascade Range such as Mt. Jefferson (10,495) (Figure 9) and Three Sisters (South 10,358, Middle 10,046, North 10,085). Each of these volcanic mountains has the potential to erupt again. As the storms in general flow from west to east, the western slope of the Cascade Range receives 130 inches a year of precipitation and the Western side less than 20 inches. For this reason, the Western Cascade Range is lush in its forest floor with ferns, Douglas Fir, Western Cedar and other vegetation and the eastern side is sparse with Ponderosa Pine. The Cascade Range is home to at least 75 species of mammals including wolves, cougars and black bears. There are 200 species of birds including bald eagles.

Introduction

As previous chapters have shown, filming wildlife in South Africa was difficult, in part because of the regulations and terrain of the Kruger Park, which for much of the period was the only place in South Africa where free-roaming Big 5 game were found. Places such as the Kalahari and the Okavango offered more obvious rewards. As Kim Wolhuter put it after filming for the first time in the Serengeti in 2021: ‘My first time to east Africa. Was insane. Now I see why all those international crews don’t want to film in our bushveld, cos they’ve been spoilt with those open plains’ (Wolhuter, 20 November 2021).

This chapter analyses how the growth of private eco-tourism lodges around the Kruger Park, and particularly in Mala Mala and the Sabi Sand, turned the bushveld into an area where people could film successfully, overcoming the difficulties of the local terrain. The first part of the chapter explores the development of the private lodges; the second part the infrastructural and technological developments there that forwarded both tourism and filming; the third part the rise of career guides and their importance; the fourth part the importance of habituated animals. In conclusion, it considers the implications of these developments and which films they affected.

The Growth of Private Lodges

Many of the farms adjoining the Kruger Park’s western boundary were originally hunting farms owned by wealthy white businessmen. This area had originally been part of the Sabi Game Reserve which included the current Kruger Park. In 1926, the National Parks Act was passed and the land to the west sold off to private owners – mainly for hunting. In 1961, the Kruger Park, concerned about possible foot and mouth disease and the effects of hunting on its western boundary, fenced it in. In 1962, Mala Mala moved from hunting to photographic tourism and started the development of luxury safaris. In 1993, when hunting in the Sabi Sand had ended, the fence was removed, allowing for the free movement of game across the whole area.

In the neighbouring Sabi Sand Reserve (often referred to as Sabi Sands), hunting still continued on many of the farms.