Cheating the ivory poachers

The ivory hunters are back in business. Rangers from the Kenya Wildlife Service-discovered the decomposing carcasses of a herd of ten elephants in the Tsavo East National Park last month in the worst case of ivory poaching in the region for a quarter of a century.

The bloody tusks of seven others were discovered nearby. In a related incident, four poachers were killed last week by the authorities in an exchange of gunfire on the edge of the park.

After more than a decade of relative safety for these magnificent beasts, since the introduction of a worldwide ban on the sale of ivory in 1989, the murderous trade in elephant tusks is again on the rise. Official figures make grim reading. Last year 57 elephants were killed for their ivory, according to the wildlife service. The true total is certain to be far higher.

But the future for the Kenyan elephant population - of which 80 per cent were said to have been killed in a 20-year orgy of killing in the Seventies and Eighties - is not all bleak.

I travelled to Kenya to present Wild At Art, a film focusing on the work of wildlife artist Gary Hodges and conservationist Daphne Sheldrick, who has devoted her life to saving the last remaining wild elephants.

Daphne runs a remarkable orphanage for infant elephants, abandoned as worthless by the poachers because they do not have tusks. Other inmates may have lost contact with their herd after being trapped by some man-made object such as a drain, a well or a snare. Either way, they would soon fall victim to the ruthless predators of the African savannah unless they were rescued by Daphne's staff.

I first met Daphne nearly 20 years ago when I narrated her life story for a Survival programme for ITV. Through her, I became deeply and passionately involved in wildlife conservation. This was to be my third visit to her elephant orphanage on the edges of Nairobi National Park.

A close friend and collaborator of Daphne's, Gary draws exquisitely in pencil and uses his own photographs for reference.

We were to spend three days filming at the orphanage and the remainder of the time in Tsavo East National Park - halfway between Nairobi and Mombasa and home to Kenya's largest population of wild elephants - where Daphne's orphans are returned to the wild.

At the Nairobi orphanage, after exchanging warm hugs with Daphne and her daughter Jill, we set off to find the six infant elephants now living there, who were out in the bush with their keepers. The sight of these magical little creatures in their brightly coloured blankets brought a lump to my throat. Vulnerable, traumatised and sometimes injured, they are so trusting of their keepers, so protective of each other and yet curious and playful, just like human children. Slowly, they surrounded us and started shoving and inspecting us. Down on hands and knees, Gary and I were soon blowing into trunks and revelling in the huge privilege of contact with these intelligent mammals.

In normal circumstances, milkdependent baby elephants like these would live in a large matriarchal herd, spending much of their day under their mothers or other females in the herd. They would have constant physical contact. They would be looked after like priceless gems.

The devotion of their natural mothers is replaced by the dedicated and caring keepers that work for Daphne. Touchingly, the little elephants soon become very attached to their human foster parents. They are with them 24 hours a day, and constantly seek reassurance by clamping their trunks on to nose, ear, mouth or neck, particularly when being given their bottles.

Trunks are incredibly versatile instruments containing about 90,000 muscles. But, before they have fully learned how to master these appendages, the young elephants look very comical. Blowing into the tip of the trunk gives them your scent - like blowing into a horse's nostrils - and after the first day it became apparent that we were remembered by this routine.

Little elephants smell like babies, milky and yeasty. I had an overwhelming desire to cuddle them, despite knowing that they can pack a hefty wallop if they feel like playing shove.

There were several hilarious moments when one would land a timely clout on my head or push me into the camera. Gary's shaved head was also a huge attraction. The next few days were very special: chatting to the keepers in a mixture of pidgin English and Swahili; long discussions with Daphne about her work in many areas of conservation; interviews with her and Gary for the film; playtime with the resident warthog family; filming the various routines associated with elephant maintenance, such as milk-mixing, mudbathing, feeding, playing and tucking them in for the night.

Soon it was time to move on to Tsavo, still reeling from the sickening slaughter of one of its elephant families. It was sad to leave the little ones. Even though the prospect of meeting 23 others much further along the road to eventually becoming wild elephants again was very exciting, it was also somewhat daunting. The oldest of the little orphans was only one year old, the oldest of the Tsavo orphans was eight - with tusks. But Daphne assured us that we would still be able to get close to them.

Five bumpy hours in two four-wheel drives and we were there. Voi lodge, in the park, and our home for the remainder of the trip, was stunningly situated with a seemingly never-ending vista of wilderness stretching for miles and miles. Basic but comfortable, all bedrooms and all vantage points have magnificent views and there is a special underground photo hide right in front of one of the waterholes, which would be extremely useful for observing wild elephants at very close range.

But the hot and humid weather brought us bad news. The seasonal rains had come early and the wild herds were scattered to the four corners of the park rather than congregating around the waterholes. But the main point of Tsavo was, of course, the 'junior school' - and this turned out to be more exciting and wonderful than we had ever dreamed. Tsavo is huge, 7,240 square miles of protected wilderness, and the earth is bright red. The stockades where the orphans live are at the entrance to the park and not open to the general public. Our first meeting was at twilight and no amount of imagination could have prepared me for the sight and sound of them as they rushed forwards to drink several gallons of water followed by dust baths amid rumbling, trumpeting, pushing and jostling.

Two older, self-appointed matriarchs were about 6ft at the shoulder, with sizeable tusks. My heart was pounding. I couldn't believe that we would be allowed to get right up close to them. Joseph, the head keeper, was adamant that the elephants were very tolerant and patient. He was right. His favourite, a boisterous four-year-old called Mkwejo, turned out to be a real star.

The next morning we congregated around the waterhole to sit and wait. Gary wanted shots of the little ones in motion and I was to interview him surrounded by elephants as they came out of the waterhole. Of course, the earth

being red, the water was even redder and within a short time we were surrounded by very excited, slimy and wet pachyderms, splashing and spraying us. Time and again, a large wet trunk would sneak its way in between us and clamp itself contentedly on Gary's head. Elephants also emit a thrilling subsonic rumble, and if you are standing right against its trunk it feels like a giant bass speaker reverberating through your body.

That afternoon, the camera crew stayed around the hotel while Gary and I went off for a sundowner safari. We were lucky enough to come across a pride of young lions, beautifully lit by the dying sun and stretching and posing for us magnificently, with zebra, ostrich and hartebeest as a backdrop. We happily shot several rolls of film before retiring to the lodge.

Over the next few days we saw a lot of the orphans. For me that was the highlight of the trip. Joseph told me how they are gradually introduced to the wild elephants until they choose to spend more and more time with them, and leave their human companions alone.

But many of the orphans make return visits to the camp, some even becoming surrogate nannies to the new additions - in turn teaching them to become wild again. Daphne told me that, even when they have become truly wild, some elephants will bring back their babies to meet their human carers.

Daphne's work through the David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust is phenomenal. And every penny that our film earns will go towards that work. After seeing the horrendous pictures of the massacre of the family of wild elephants, it is wonderful to know that her work does so much good.

The foundation has a Foster An Elephant scheme to which everyone can subscribe via the Internet. For £35 a year you can have your own elephant. You will get monthly keeper reports and photos and be able to visit them if you get to Kenya. But most importantly you will really make a difference. I have two and they give me unending pleasure.

The orphanage is open to the public for one hour every afternoon, but 'foster parents' are allowed to visit whenever they like. You can get more information from www.sheldric wildlifetrust.org. Please become a foster parent. Remember, elephants never forget!

? Rula Lenska is in Noel Coward's Master Pieces at the Birmingham Rep from May 29 until June 15.

Getting there

African Pride (01904 541000) offers an eight-night holiday to Kenya from £1,545.This includes return flights, two nights in Nairobi with a full-day tour to the animal orphanage, two nights in Mombasa and four nights at Voi lodge on full board, with game viewing and transfers.

Destination guide: Kenya