The Ranger's Notebook

In the middle of the park, Polly found a small ranger post. One ranger sat at a wooden table, drinking tea. On the table was a tablet with a map. Slow dots moved across the map. Each dot was a lion with a GPS collar. Polly landed next to the screen and looked at it, head tilted. The ranger laughed and let her watch.

Next to the wall there was a pile of old wire loops. They are called snares. Poachers hide them in the grass to catch animals. Rangers walk through the park and take them out, one by one, by hand. Over the years they have removed tens of thousands of them.

Nobody knows how old the great migration is. No person alive has ever seen a year without it. The rangers protect more than a place. They protect a path, a circle the animals have walked for longer than anyone can count.

Before Polly left, she walked across the ranger's notebook. Her feet left small marks on the page. The ranger smiled and wrote: one green parrot, round glasses, very curious. Then he drew a little picture of her. It was quite good, Polly thought.