Lion Death Periods and Stomoxys Flies
In 1961 there was a drought, and in 1962 rain continued throughout the dry season. This caused a massive build-up of the Stomoxys calcitrans biting fly by May 1962. Their demands for blood meals affected the lions so badly (draining blood, and causing skin sores which became infected) that lion numbers crashed, and took several years to build back up when the weather was back to normal. It was estimated that Ngorongoro's population of at least 70 lions had been reduced to about 10.
Drought in 2000 and continuous dry-season rain in 2001 did the same again: in March 2001 Stomoxys numbers had built up again into a devastating plague.
Additionally, Lions declined from 80 to approximately 30 in 2003 and spotted hyenas decreased by 36%.
V.A. Runyero also noted the downward trend of other species and states, "Analysis of the semiannual game counts begun in 1964 indicates that the five most abundant ungulates in the Crater declined 29% between the periods 1964–1980 and 1986–2005. The wildebeest, the keystone species, declined from over 14,000 to <9000 head; buffalo increased from <100 before 1970 to over 2000 individuals to become the dominant herbivore. Gazelle populations also declined."
Read more about this topic: Ngorongoro Conservation Area
Famous quotes containing the words lion, death, periods and/or flies:
“A work in progress quickly becomes feral. It reverts to a wild state overnight. It is barely domesticated, a mustang on which you one day fastened a halter, but which now you cannot catch. It is a lion you cage in your study. As the work grows, it gets harder to control; it is a lion growing in strength. You must visit it every day and reassert your mastery over it. If you skip a day, you are, quite rightly, afraid to open the door to its room.”
—Annie Dillard (b. 1945)
“Sad. Nothing more than sad. Let’s not call it a tragedy; a broken heart is never a tragedy. Only untimely death is a tragedy.”
—Angela Carter (1940–1992)
“How easily and cleverly do I write just now! I am really pleased with myself; words come skipping to me like lambs upon Moffat Hill; and I turn my periods smoothly and imperceptibly like a skilful wheelwright turning tops in a turning-loom. There’s fancy! There’s simile!”
—James Boswell (1740–1795)
“O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.”
—William Blake (1757–1827)