In a jerky, twisting action, each male tries to coil itself around theother in an effort to maintain a superior position.

As I sat, watching the dawn, Akagera was still peaceful; the war was still two years away. I felt uncomfortable but only because I had to leave this place. The sun was now up, drying off the dew and bringing the first tsetse flies. Reluctantly, I packed the landcruiser and joined the dirt road that leads from Shama to Gabiro at the entrance to the Park some forty minutes drive distant. By my side were binoculars and camera in case we encountered something interesting. The road slowly wound its way along the foot of a line of hills; past the turning where we had looked for the female black rhino and her calf; past the place where we could always count on seeing a large herd of buffalo; and I was beginning to think that the journey would be uneventful until, on rounding a comer we encountered two large snakes, at the edge of the dirt road coiled around each other in a vigorous dance that I immediately thought was a courtship activity. It did not take long to realize that we were looking at two large black mambas. It took about half a minute to weigh up the situation through binoculars; black mambas are extremely dangerous, known to pursue victims at high speed, but these two seemed so preoccupied with each other, I decided to slowly and carefully open the door and crawled in front of the car, ending up sitting on the ground with my back resting against the front fender less than ten metres away from- the snakes. Remarkably, the mambas continued their dance, ignoring me and the car. With the 300mm lens resting on my knees I had a wonderful view of their behaviour, which continued for at least five minutes before they moved into the long grass at the edge of the road, out of view. I decided not to pursue them.