top of page

The Neighbours

Jan 6

5 min read


Rodents

In the summer, jackals appeared largely uninterested in rodents, yet the rodents chose to err on the side of caution. They knew never to trust the jackals. As a result, they cautiously descended to the stage to take from the bowl only between the jackals' visits. They bided their time, waiting for such windows of opportunity.






Fig. 1a and 1b Biding their time


When they were sure that the land was clear, down they went with determination.


Fig. 2. The land is clear


At times, the rat tribe would come down in force.



Fig. 3. Raiding the bowl


Snakes

Unlike the rodent tribe, snakes did not worry overmuch about the jackals. Or more precisely: about the cubs. They seemed to know that the cubs were seeing them for the first time and fear would stop them from doing anything rash. On the whole, such, indeed, seemed to be the case. Upon discovery of these strange creatures, the cubs showed feelings wavering between curiosity and fear.



Fig. 4. Viper!  Cubs watching a viper (Vypera ammodytes) coiled in the low left corner
Fig. 4. Viper!  Cubs watching a viper (Vypera ammodytes) coiled in the low left corner

The grass-snakes were the main visitors, but at times there also came vipers, as in the photo above. By contrast with the athletic grass-snakes, the vipers looked soft and sluggish. This was deceptive – they could spring for the bite with the swiftness of lightning. Somehow, the cubs already knew about it and kept themselves at a distance.

The grass-snakes did not pay much attention to the cubs. In their presence, the reptiles crossed the open ground of the stage quite freely. The cubs watched the intrepid visitors in awe:



Fig. 5. Discovering snakes  


The background noise in the clip comes from the Romanian bank of the river. This is nearly a kilometer across the river, but sound glides on water as if its source was right by oneself. Picnic parties are regularly held on the sandy Romanian bank with people coming from the nearby villages and the small town of Bistrets. For the picnickers, communion with nature indelibly combined with a boom-box playing full blast. The cubs knew this since their first days and took it as an elemental force . My father had the same healthy approach.

A detail to notice in the clip above is that while all the three cubs were holding back from the slithering reptile, they were doing it in different ways. There is one cub who prefers to stand back, while the two others come close to the moving snake. The trio then follows it as it disappears into the bush. In this pursuit, two are in front, the third is still in the back. Of the two in front, one pauses to sniff at the track of the strange creature, while the other goes nearest to it, before the snake disappears into the bushes.

That is Big Ears. From there on, from the four cubs of ’23, he would always be the one to show courage and be the most forward. Let us now look at Boldy’s first appearance onstage. He was the first of the new litter who was to be seen there on 13 July, 2024, at 22:28.



Fig. 6. Boldy begins exploring the bait-site


There are four of the family by the bowl. White Back, the Uncle and supervisor, is on the left, with Round Ears and Big Ears on the right. Boldy is in the centre. He can be heard squealing, then goes to see a rat at the base of the Rat Tree. And then he goes left – on the path leading to the big tent. This is his first adventure. Two minutes later, he goes on exploring the bait-site, squealing along in excitement:



Fig. 7. Discovering the bait-site


This is in line with an observation Joy Adamson made over half a century ago. In her fascinating book about cheetahs*, she perceptibly observed that wild animals were easier to identify by their individual behaviour, rather than by how they look. For each animal, almost from birth, shows character that stands them apart from the rest. In jackals, who otherwise may look very similar, the individual signature is especially important.

 

But back to the snakes. With adult jackals the snakes were more careful. In a scene from last summer, what looks like a medium-sized grass-snake waits for White Back to finish his dinner. Only then it crosses the stage:



Fig. 8. A grass-snake waits for White Back to finish his dinner  


There are a number of details to note in this clip. In the first place, it was the night of 17 July – three days after Boldy had appeared onstage. So, the time of the Uncle had begun. In tune with his duties of a helper-supervisor, when he finished eating, he rummaged into the pile of oats, found a slice of bread, and trotted off towards the den.

The grass-snake which came from the tree and headed in the same direction looked very much like the one in Fig. 5. That last event was of a year before. If it was indeed the same one, it could be that it was following a habitual path leading to her den. That could be only up on the bluff as in high water the area towards the bank would be inundated. (That happened in June, 2019, when the camp was half-submerged). At the other end, the old poplar tree (the ‘Rat Tree’) could be the place the grass-snake went hunting. She could have also gone down to the beach for the frogs there. In the hot nights of July-August snakes would be fully active all through the night. The temperature at 22:07 on 17 July (the time of the clip) was 27 C, only slightly falling after midnight.

In support of such possible scenarios (the snake going to a bluff-den), a clip of 7 August, 2023 shows a grass-snake on the bluff, sliding into a hole right by the jackal’s home path:



Fig. 9. Going home


There must be something about this path as a number of other creatures appear to be fond of it. The principal users are the jackals who have trodden it well with their numerous goings up and down between home, river, and bait-site. The nearly vertical steepness of the road is not much of an obstacle to them. As noted earlier on (Post 'Family Members and the Senior Adults Rule'), jackals do not find it difficult to run up steep slopes:



Fig. 10. Running up the bluff


Coming down may be more challenging. Here is Round Ears balancing on the bluff-face to get a better look at the camera. He was a year old at that time:


A Golden Jackal looking up towards the eye of the trail camera.
Fig. 11. How come this camera is up here?

Other neighbours


Of the other users of the Eastern bluff path (the ‘Eastern staircase’), the wild-cat has been noted before ( The Old Wild Cat was first mentioned in the post 'The Rules'):


A wild cat at the Golden Jackals site.
Fig. 12. The old wildcat staring at the camera

The Eastern Staircase connects the fields on top of the bluff (Fig. 13) with the river down below.


Fig. 13. The Eastern Staircase
Fig. 13. The Eastern Staircase

When going down, the path forks at the foot of the bluff. The main path continues through the bush towards the river, but a short branch stands at a right angle to it and leads West towards the bait-site, and further on – to the camp.

These paths are favourite roads of many creatures. Among them is a marten (Martes foina):


A marten at the Golden Jackals research site
Fig. 14. Another neighbour - The Marten

The marten was never registered on the bait-site and the wildcat only very rarely. But there were more common visitors there. Of them and other happenings at the bait-site we’ll tell you in the next story.




Jan 6

5 min read

1

17

0

Related Posts

Comments

Share Your ThoughtsBe the first to write a comment.

© 2025 by Nikolina Konstantinova

Credits: Where not stated all stills and clips are taken from the field diary and published articles of

Yulian Konstantinov

Disclosure: These jackal stories I know from my father. In the course of his seven seasons of fieldwork, he has been in daily contact with his eminent colleague and close friend Prof. Nikolai Spassov of the National Museum of Natural History at the Bulgarian Academy of Sciences. The data my father collected at the Danube camp has been analysed by them both. The responsibility for what is published in this blog remains fully mine.

bottom of page