Whatever the thing is, it jumps back down and begins slamming into the wall of the tent, clawing and trying to rip through the canvas 2 feet from where we lay. Something’s trying to break in - and it’s not human. It jumps at it, trying to scale the thing, emitting a very deep, low grunting. Then: What is that? I’m startled awake by a frantic, desperate clawing on the side of the tent. We’re safe - there’s an electric fence between them and us. I want to feel the breeze, and hear the animals off in the distance. I leave only the mosquito-netting flap closed. I unzipped the big front flap - it’s maybe 10’ x 7’ - and hook it to the outside roof ledge. Warm enough that I can’t figure out why the guy who brings me my towels has zipped up all the flaps on the tent. The setting: Kenya’s Masai Mara National Reserve, a warm March evening.
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