G ood news on the Giraffe front! Researchers from the Giraffe Conservation Foundation (GCF) — www.giraffeconservation.org for those who share my fascination with these animals — report that there has been a dramatic increase in the population of the highly endangered West African race of the Giraffe, Giraffa camelopardalis peralta. In historical times, this race ranged from the shores of the Atlantic in Senegal to the west bank of the White Nile, but because of habitat destruction, hunting and competition with domestic livestock, their numbers decreased dramatically. By 1996, the herds of thousands had been reduced to a tiny remnant population of just 50 near Niamey, the capital of Niger. Last month, the GCF announced that the population has quadrupled, numbering some 200 animals and still increasing. Good news indeed, but what does this have to do with Egypt?

One could argue that the very name Giraffe comes from the Arabic zarafa but that would only be part of the story. A less etymological and culturally interesting explanation is that the rising numbers of West African Giraffes has been achieved through cooperation and coordination with local pastoralists. The Giraffes share the pasture and water with the local herds of cattle, sheep and goats. There should be no competition for pasture. Giraffes browse, they feed on tree foliage, notably acacia, and as the world’s tallest mammal at up to six meters in height, they can far outreach their grass-guzzling domestic competitors (though there are many photographs of tree-climbing goats).

And this is where the connection lies. Throughout the Western Desert of Egypt are amazing petroglyphs (rock carvings) and paintings of Giraffes made many thousands of years ago when the Western Desert was not the staunchly austere environment that it is now, but a thriving savannah community. There was water and there was vegetation. In a bewildering number of styles over many millennia, the ancients portrayed Giraffes on the rocks of this land in stylistic and naturalistic stances and modes. And they portrayed them with their own domesticated sheep, goats and cattle. From these pastoralists in Niger living in harmony with the Giraffes we might learn a great deal about how Ancient Egyptians and their domestic flocks co-existed. It is a unique opportunity. As the GCF notes it is a “a rare harmony with villagers who have accepted [the Giraffe’s] presence – for now.”

I’ve recorded these pre-Dynastic Western Desert Giraffe portrayals over two recent expeditions to Gilf Kebir and Gebel Uwainet in the southwestern corner of Egypt. There is a startling range of representations; from Wadi Hamra in the eastern Gilf Kebir there are rock carvings of accurately proportioned Giraffes with their patio-stone patterning rendered by chiseled scars in the cliff face. At the Foggini-Mestikawi Cave on the western side of the Gilf there are beautifully rendered rock paintings in grey and umber. My favorite is of a Giraffe portrayed in full gallop, with the proportions all correct: the limbs as they should be and even the tail up-raised as it is in real life. But there is no patterning. To the south, on the northern flanks of Gebel Uwainet, are a myriad of Giraffe petroglyphs. Most are very stylized, minimalist depictions of Giraffes made with a few fluid lines in the rock, unfilled or filled with checkerboard. Often, and especially on the barest of glyphs, are the tell-tale horns on the Giraffe’s head. But in an overwhelming number of these etchings, the Giraffes are depicted with equally accurate or stylistic depictions of domestic animals and especially of cattle. The pastoral Ancients co-existed with Giraffes; could the Niger discovery tell us how?

In some ways I hope not. In the Foggini-Mestikawi Cave there are rather disturbing (at least for Giraffe aficionados) images. One is of a Giraffe trampling a slightly obscured but easily identifiable human — a little alarming, but not surprising. Giraffes are big. Males can be almost six meters tall and weigh up to 2,000 kilograms. They can run at 56 kilometers per hour, which is far faster than Jamacain sprinter Usain Bolt, dubbed the ‘fastest man on earth.’ With two-toed hooves the size of dinner plates, it is not difficult to imagine an angered Giraffe, a really, really riled Giraffe, taking it out on an unfortunate tormentor. The other image is a little more scary: a Giraffe seemingly (and the image is not unequivocal) taking a human in its jaws. If the portrait is what it seems, this is rather more alarming — at least for me. You see, I’ve been licked by a Giraffe and it was an amazing experience.

Flashback eight years to the outskirts of Nairobi: I was visiting a sanctuary for orphaned young of the highly endangered Rothschild’s Giraffe from western Kenya and northern Uganda. At the center of the large paddock was a wooden viewing platform and balcony. For a small donation you could buy a handful of giraffe-friendly food pellets and have a head-to-head experience with these extraordinary creatures. Meeting a giraffe at this level is like being confronted by two bowls of liquid chocolate. Their eyes are huge, deep, deep brown and framed by eyelashes Nancy Agram would die for. And then they lap up the pellets. Out comes a 24-centimeter blue-grey tongue that laps up the food with astonishing efficiency. Or perhaps it is not that astonishing. This organ, with the texture of rough velvet, has evolved to curl round and pluck off with great dexterity the succulent green leaves from the thorny branches of acacia.

On a non-Giraffe note, I’m headed south for the Eid break to Lake Nasser and hopefully a bit of Crocodile spotting. Crocodiles were worshipped here as the god Sobek and very fine mummified specimens can be seen at Kom Ombo, north of Aswan, and in the Animal Mummies Room of the Egyptian Museum in Cairo. The animal mummies are profiled in November’s National Geographic, and it makes for fascinating reading. et