Spooky Animals

October 31, 2025October 30, 2025 / Jet Eliot / 55 Comments

For our Halloween fun today, it’s a good time to look at wild animals that give us a slight chill. Wild animals have a rawness that is unpredictable and can indeed be spooky.

These are not even some of the very scariest animals (like a hyena) because I don’t want to give you nightmares.

We start with a fellow mammal, a Halloween specialty, the bat. This one is a spectacled flying fox. We came upon a colony in a forest in northern Queensland, Australia.

You can see in the photo below the bat looks bespectacled, for which it is named.

Some of the creatures here just look spooky because they’re different, but others really are spooky for how dangerous they can be.

Below is a male African buffalo. We were in Zambia, Africa and more than once our jeep came from behind tall grass and there one would be, glaring at us.

Took my breath away a few times.

His left eye is scarred and half-shut, no doubt the result of a fight. A typical male, like this one, weighs 1,650 pounds (750 kg).

This hippo, below, was scarred and surly. Some people may think hippos are kind of cute, but when you are near one in the wild, you immediately grasp the sobering presence they exude.

Hippos are fast–faster than they look.

Below are warthogs we came upon in Zambia; they had been digging for roots and tubers. Long, flat snouts, sharp tusks and soulless eyes. A strong-legged and very fast animal.

While on a safari walk, the guide told us to stay away from ground holes because the warthogs cleverly back into burrows, out of sight, and come charging out tusk first if they are threatened.

There are many intimidating African animals in the wild, but we’ll look at just two more, seen in Botswana.

The male lion, below. I think we all know to fear this formidable creature. They swagger confidently and have piercing golden eyes and when it’s the right time, they pounce and tear flash like the warriors they are.

This is a cobra we encountered. The snake’s hood (neck) is flared and its head is up, ready to strike.

Shimmery and golden in the African sun, but deadly.

Let’s hop on our witchy broomstick to head over to the western hemisphere, look at more spooky creatures.

Galapagos Islands. Far out in the Pacific Ocean about 600 miles (1,000 km) from the mainland, the wildlife has evolved in isolation, unaccustomed to humans.

These two wild iguana species, below, were not dangerous to be around, but just so incredibly unusual. Absolutely prehistoric looking.

The only living lizard that forages in the sea, marine iguanas are slow on land but graceful under water. We saw hundreds of them basking on rocks and even found a few in the water when we were snorkeling.

In 1835 Charles Darwin reported the Galapagos black lava rocks were frequented by these “most disgusting, clumsy lizards.” That seems a bit harsh–he probably found them on one of the days he was having stomach troubles.

Equally as curious-looking were the land iguanas. Here is a pair, below.

Peeling skin, crusty faces, long rat-like tails and gnarled claws.

Let’s head to Central America next. But yikes, this broomstick is so uncomfortable. Let’s switch to a magic carpet.

This American Crocodile, below, was churlishly staring at us as our little boat cruised by. Look at that mouth. Even when the chops are shut you know there’s pointy, sharp teeth lurking inside. How many teeth? About 65.

The array of spooky insects we have on this planet is immense. Many are very cool, but I’m taking it easy on you today. I’ve just got one for you, the assassin bug, below.

They’re called assassin bugs because they use an “assassination” method to hunt and kill. They ambush their prey, then grab them with their front legs, inject them with paralyzing saliva and then suck out the liquefied innards.

Heading north to America for the last two spooky creatures.

We were eating our sandwiches inside the car in a parking area when this big bison wandered very close to us, apparently attracted to the mud puddle. We could hear its steady, heavy breathing.

We were of course thrilled but a little nervous.

They’re faster than they look too, faster than most horses.

Lastly, my own backyard. We lived on an isolated mountain top and in the summer it was hot and dry.

This mature rattlesnake, below, hung out with us one summer.

We agreed not to bother each other, and it worked out. Why did we do that? Because the rattlesnake kept the rodent population under control.

Its head is in the center of the photo below, and it is looking at you. Rattles are on the right; there are 7 or 8 or 9?

It rattled at us a couple of times that summer, but we quickly got the message.

There’s something so gripping and powerful about wild animals. Add to that the dark superstitions of this holiday that go back centuries, and we have ourselves a spooky Halloween.

Happy Halloween!

Written by Jet Eliot.

Photos by Athena Alexander.

Sandy Hippopotamus

August 28, 2015August 29, 2015 / Jet Eliot / 50 Comments

Hippo, Luangwa Valley, Zambia

The world’s largest population of hippos live in the Luangwa Valley in Zambia, Africa. They love the water, which is why they are so abundant in the Luangwa Valley. The Luangwa River is one of the biggest unaltered rivers in southern Africa.

Hippopotamus amphibius need water deep enough to cover them. Their thin, naked skin is vulnerable to overheating and dehydration; they submerge to protect their skin and stay cool. Their eyes, ears, and nostrils are positioned high in the skull so that they can remain submerged for long periods.

Usually one sees wild hippos in the water. But they are semiaquatic mammals, meaning they live in both water and on land. Their diet is grass, so they also require pasture areas not far from water. They graze for about five hours, then return to water beds to spend the day digesting and socializing.

We found this handsome hippo one morning at dawn, while heading out in the jeep. It was unusual to see him resting in sand, but he still found a shady, cool spot. He was fine with us interrupting his rest, as long as we stayed in the vehicle. And we were fine with him glaring at us, as long as he didn’t charge. I love it when we all get along.

Photo credit: Athena Alexander

Hip-Hippo-Hooray

March 26, 2015 / Jet Eliot / 41 Comments

Hippo, Zambia

Although they can be swift on land, the gargantuan body of Hippopotamus amphibius is designed for water. The short legs don’t get in the way when they are wallowing in the mud and shallow water. They can also sink their barrel-shaped bodies and walk along the river floor.

Hippos mate and give birth in the water. Even their ears, eyes and nostrils are high on their head for easy submersion. They sleep in the water and come up for air without ever waking. For this semi-aquatic mammal with thin, hairless skin, the water prevents overheating and dehydration under the hot African sun.

There are some species of hippo that have become extinct, but there are still populations of hippos in sub-Saharan Africa, especially in Tanzania and Zambia. Their conservation status is delicate, listed as Vulnerable Threatened.

Eating the fruit of a sausage tree

In the early 20th century hippos were considered close in ancestry to the pig. They roll around in mud and grunt like a pig, and there is a physical resemblance as well. But further studies of their DNA and fossil records classified them in the whale family. I have spent many glorious hours observing hippos on land and in water, and the water is where they luxuriate.

You wouldn’t think hippopotamus are fast when you see their short, stubby legs carrying over 3,000 pounds of body mass; yet they can outrun humans at 19 mph. Hippos are not only fast, but they are aggressive, unpredictable, and extremely dangerous. I have watched more than one wildlife guide shudder as they relay the story of a distant cousin, friend, or relative who was killed by a hippo. The hippo is responsible for more human deaths than any other mammal in Africa.

In their territory, pods of hippos are commonly seen during the day where they rest together at a mud hole, lake or in rivers. Watching one roll over like a beached whale to moisten its back is one of the most beautiful slow dances I have ever seen. The first time I observed this action I thought there was a fight brewing, so much splashing and abrupt activity. But it was never a fight, it was simply one colossal hippo turning over resulting in muddy water ripples and sloshes.

Hippo Pool at night, Zambia

Photo credit: Athena Alexander

Fishing with Hippos

October 10, 2014October 10, 2014 / Jet Eliot / 17 Comments

Luangwa Valley; Zambia, Africa

Photo credit: Athena Alexander

Hippo on a Mission

July 2, 2014July 2, 2014 / Jet Eliot / 24 Comments

Hippopotamus, Zambia, Africa. Photo: Alexander

The Night the Elephants Came to Visit

January 20, 2014 / Jet Eliot / 24 Comments

The Magical Elephants that Came to Visit

I find wild elephants fascinating to watch because of the communication they have between each other. If you are quiet and respectful, there are various “conversations” you get the privilege of observing. The most wonderful exchange I ever witnessed, one that I find soothing to my soul, was the time I watched a mother and her calf just six feet away from my door.

It was our second night in South Luangwa National Park in Zambia and I was awakened by what I thought must be a raging rain storm. It sounded like gushing water on our hay-like roof. uh-oh. I sat up under the mosquito net, puzzling this out, remembering I was in Africa somewhere, oh yeah, Zambia, but it’s the dry season, it can’t be rain. Within minutes we found the answer: outside our hut was a massive 12 foot elephant ravaging a tree.

Jet at the door, tree on right

Night Visitor from a distance

It was past midnight and no other human was stirring. We could hear our friend snoring in the hut next door. The elephant’s solid body was a few feet from the balcony’s flimsy support beam (i.e. an old tree part). She could have demolished it just by turning in a different direction. Years earlier I had seen elephants invading our camp and they obliterated tall, strong trees in a single step as they innocently made their way to the river. The magnificence of this animal is breathtaking.

And I must admit, that night in Zambia I was indeed breathless. My partner and I looked at each other, wide-eyed but silent, wondering what to do. Cell phone reception, out of the question. The camp was nearly empty and everyone was asleep. And it was too dark for decent photos, yet a flash would scare her away. I remember looking above my head to see what could fall on me. It was the second floor. I wasn’t afraid though. Perhaps it was the mellow lunar essence that had washed over us, or maybe it was her hypnotic, steady breathing. Whispering, we made a decision to only snap one photo from a distance and not go outside, with hopes of her languishing here as long as possible.

And that was when the magic began because next we heard her faintly purr and rumble. It’s a sound exclusive to elephants and one that rests in a sweet place in my mind–the soft and gentle purring of a mega-ton mammal.

Then, from between our hut and our friends’ hut, a baby elephant came trotting onto the scene. What we had heard, we realized, was Mother Elephant calling her precocious offspring, this 250 pound baby. The calf nudged up to its mother and nursed, while the mother continued to chomp leaves and snap branches. They stayed there for another thrilling 15 or 20 minutes as we watched from our hut, mesmerized and delighted. Baby elephants are adorable creatures to watch. They don’t have muscle control yet in their trunk, so it flops around while they try to figure it out. They’re curious and playful, but clumsy. After Mother Elephant had annihilated most of the tree, they made their exit.

Another visitor to our camp

The next day in the morning light we examined the pitiful remainder of the tree, marveled at the giant foot prints, told our friends about the scene, and proudly presented our one photograph of evidence. After breakfast we saw the mother-calf pair again, the magical elephants who came to visit.

Happy with Hippos

September 3, 2013 / Jet Eliot / 16 Comments

Hippopotamus

I experienced my first wild hippo at night in the dark. I was lying on my cot inside the tent; our group was camped beside a river. I heard a terrifying grunting sound outside, had no idea what it was. I also heard a great deal of splashing in the water. Although I hardly slept that night, I did survive; when I asked our guide at breakfast the next morning about the racket, he confirmed that it was a pod of hippos.

Hippopotamus amphibius are found in sub-Saharan Africa, and live primarily in water. Although they eat on land, they spend most of their time in the water, including mating and birthing. Water is important to the hippo due to their thin, hairless skin. To prevent overheating and dehydration, hippos wallow in water or mud for most of their lives. Their ears, eyes and nostrils are high on their head for easy submersion. In fact, they can sleep in the water and come up for air without ever waking.

An aggressive and huge animal, they don’t have many predators. Male hippos weigh 3,500-4,000 pounds, with older males sometimes reaching 6,000-7,000 pounds. The only land mammals bigger than hippos are rhinoceros and elephants. Occasionally crocodiles will snap up a baby hippo, but for the most part, the hippos rule the water. They are, unfortunately, hunted by humans, their biggest predator, and their conservation status is listed as vulnerable.

With their enormous weight supported on short stubby legs, you might think they are slow and lethargic. But they’re not. They are actually quite agile and easily outrun humans at 18 mph.

I’ve been in motorless boats in the water with hippos, wondering if I was in danger. (This seems to be the way a lot when on safari.) We often see locals in the rivers fishing beside hippos, too. There are conflicts, I’ve been told, between humans and hippos. It’s not like living with rattlers, where if you don’t bother them, they won’t bother you. Hippos will bother you. If they don’t like you, they’ll come after you. That’s why when I’m in that motorless boat, I try to keep a friendly smile at all times.

Hippopotamus with sausage fruit

Hippos are not especially good swimmers though, their speed is on land. They come on land to eat, their diet consisting mostly of grass, but also aquatic plants and plant materials like this fruit from the “sausage” tree in Zambia.

I know Americans who collect hippos. They acquire hippopotamus figurines in all sizes, fill their shelves with cute little hippos. This strikes me as hilarious, because hippos are so muddy and gargantuan and ill-tempered. Moreover, if you saw what hippos do with their droppings, this hippo-collecting would strike you as funny too. For territorial purposes, while defecating and/or urinating, they spin their tail and use it as a paddle and, in windshield wiper-fashion, slap and disperse their excrement in every direction.

I guess my favorite thing about hippopotami are seeing them lazing about in shallow water. They congregate in groups of a dozen or more, socializing in close proximity, sometimes even resting their head on their neighbor. They grunt and bellow, splash water, and every few minutes one may turn its burly body over to get the other side wet. Egrets stand on their backs, lift off when the hippo rolls.

They’re muddy, poopy, aggressive and huge, but somehow I find them soothing…as long as I have a safe distance.