Scientists Thought Hyenas Followed Lions for Scraps. They Were Wrong


While watching lions and hyenas out in the field, wildlife biologist Nancy Barker noticed that lions were actively tracking the hyenas. When she shared her observations with her colleagues, they insisted she had it backwards; the hyenas were tracking lions for scavenging, not the other way around. Maybe what she saw were chance encounters, others said.

Turns out, Barker didn’t have it backwards—she was right. To test her hypothesis, Barker and her colleagues fitted GPS collars to 17 lions and 14 spotted hyenas from two different locations at the Etosha National Park in Namibia and the Chobe-Linyanti system in Botswana. Across thousands of observations, the team confirmed what Barker called a “hidden choreography” of interactions between the two predators. Namely, lions tended to approach hyenas, whose ideal distance from lions appeared to be on the scale of several kilometers—that is, hyenas didn’t seem interested in following the lions to scavenge, as was previously believed. If anything, they really wanted to stay away. The findings were published today in Frontiers in Ethology.

“It shows that their coexistence is managed continuously through movement, not just settled in dramatic clashes at carcasses,” Barker, who conducted the study as a PhD student at the University of KwaZulu-Natal in South Africa, told Gizmodo. “What we see isn’t fear; rather, it’s a subtle, persistent lean away from danger.”

The trick is in the details

For obvious reasons, tracking wildlife consistently enough to establish patterns is no easy task. As Barker told Gizmodo, “moment-to-moment interactions are nearly impossible to prove by observation alone,” and the latest study was designed to overcome these logistical challenges. The collars sent back positions of the animals to the researchers every five minutes. When the dots showed hyenas and lions at close proximity, the team carefully documented patterns in how the two interacted, organizing the data according to three independent statistical approaches.

Barker Lion Chobe Linyati
Barker with an immobilized adult male lion from a pride in the Chobe-Linyanti floodplains. Credit: Nancy Barker

“If the patterns I’d seen in the field were real, they would show up as a consistent directional bias,” Barker said, “and they did.”

All three tests were clear in their conclusions. Hyenas didn’t fancy being anywhere near lions, never less to stick around for leftovers. Fascinatingly, it was usually the male lions reacting to the presence of hyenas, whereas female lions appeared comparatively indifferent. For Barker, the most surprising thing was the lengths (literally) the hyenas seemed to go to avoid lions; the evasive behavior was detectable out to several kilometers, she said.

Following the signs

These observations were “mostly beyond the view of any observer,” Barker explained, and the GPS collar approach proved surprisingly efficient. For instance, the team realized one pair of collared lions was actually mating, and its movement data was very consistent with known patterns of lion courtship. Later, the team confirmed directly that the two were, indeed, an item.

“If collars can reveal courtship, competition, and coexistence without an observer present, we have a new window into the lives of animals we can rarely watch,” she added. Although this isn’t the first time that scientists have pointed out that hyenas don’t steal or scavenge from lions as often as we might think, the misconception still appears to be present. The latest findings further add to evidence that carnivore interactions are a lot more complex than what might seem “obvious” to us, according to the paper.

A hidden life

That said, the researchers noted in the paper that the study had some limitations, such as a small sample size, and some observations regarding the sex bias of this behavior need further validation. Still, the study opens new avenues for research, as well as discussions on the complicated ways in which carnivores share space across different ecosystems—inquiries that might be more urgent than we’d like to believe, Barker said.

A Spotted Hyena From Etosha National Park
Barker standing near a spotted hyena at Etosha National Park. Credit: Nancy Barker

“There is far more going on in these systems than we can see [that] are at risk of destroying them before we’ve even documented them,” she said. “If a pattern this fundamental went undetected between Africa’s two most-studied large carnivores, imagine what we still don’t know about the predators being persecuted and driven out of landscapes around the world.”

‘Absolution’ Excerpt: Read the Beginning of Jeff VanderMeer’s Newest Southern Reach Book


But then, too, there was the assurance, the confidence, in the accounts of the biologists as remedy to allay suspicion. Because Sergeant Rocker, too, had then taken to the waters and disappeared, the biologists using their tracking equipment to make sure they could follow the alligators in their new lives.

The Tyrant kept to herself, while the others remained in close proximity, for a while. None, at least overnight, seemed inclined to leave the area, and by the fourth day, Team Leader 1 put the most junior member of their party on the task of monitoring moments that might include a full day of basking in the same stretch of mud.

On day six they found Firestorm’s front leg, bobber wire wrapped around it, the whole prominently displayed on a mudbank with deep boot prints suggesting poachers. There was, one biologist wrote, “a bathetic or pathetic quality to the paleness of the leg, enraptured in the evidence of our experiment, lost so far from her home. I wept for an hour, but do not know if this was an appropriate response.”

(No, Old Jim did not believe it was an appropriate response, even as he himself wept at odd hours, for his own reasons, down in Central’s archives.)

Battlebee turned up dead and bloated and white, with a chunk ripped out of him postmortem by some creature, possibly Sergeant Rocker, speculation being that stress and the anesthetic had been too hard on him. Postmortem examination revealed stomach contents that included fish, a turtle, mud, and, inexplicably, a broken teacup.

She had also been pregnant, “a fact that surprised us,” Team Leader 2 wrote, “given her credentials identified her as a male,” amid some general confusion: “To be honest, I cannot now remember when we first took this project on, when we first encountered these subjects. The heat here is abysmal.”

Sergeant Rocker opted out of the project by shedding his harness in the water near the tent of Team Leader 1, indicating, as she absurdly put it, “A politeness on the part of Sergeant Rocker in keeping with his personality when I knew him best. I felt this loss much more deeply than expected.”

This sentimentality toward an alligator seen as an obligation just days before weighed on Old Jim, although he could not put a finger on why. Nor did he understand why the alligator experiment registered with the biologists in their reports as a great success, and they would even reference it with a kind of beautiful, all-consuming nostalgia when the mission began to sour. The myth of competence, perhaps. The myth of persistence. The myth of objectivity.

Perhaps, both he and the biologists would have been wiser to focus on how Sergeant Rocker had turned into an escape artist, for the harness was intact and still latched, with no tears anywhere. So how had the alligator possibly gotten free? Old Jim kept seeing the biologists by a trick of faulty video running away from the release site, only to re-form in their drinking circle.

He replayed the video so often that it became a disconcerting mess of light and shadow, of pixelated disembodied heads and legs and shapes that leapt out and sharpened, only to become subsumed into the past.

“All possible measures were taken but nothing could be done.”

Or had the outcome been exactly as intended?


Excerpted from Absolution: A Southern Reach Novel by Jeff VanderMeer. Published by MCD, an imprint of Farrar, Straus and Giroux. Copyright © 2024 by VanderMeer Creative, Inc. All rights reserved.