The game reserve Ranger had challenged us to ask him more questions, as we had been in quiet awe of our surroundings since the safari began.

“What does that dung belong to?” asked the Claw, clearly unaware that dung becomes a shared resource once it is out of the animals bottom.

“I think it is the dung of an Oryx, let me check.”

With that the ranger got off his quad bike and rolled a piece of dung between his fingers.

“No, I am wrong this dung belongs to a Giraffe.”

He then put the dung in his mouth and bit it in half. As he did so, a little bit of sick came up into my throat, and yet he continued on.

“Yes, look. The grass is finely ground, a good sign that this came from a giraffe.”

“But…but…you just put giraffe shite, from the arse of a giraffe, into your mouth?!”

“Yes, it is not a problem. We had a dung spitting competition amongst the rangers a couple of weeks ago.”

“I am going to assume you were REALLY bored that night.”

“It’s fine, it’s dry to begin with, but when a bit moist you can spit a long way. I did feel a bit nauseas towards the end though.”

“Yes, I can see how it would take four or five dungballs to make you feel sick.”

We pointed out the next dung pile, but thankfully he recongised it as belonging to a White Rhino, without having to force the loaf of bread sized dung ball into his mouth.

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