I was sitting all by myself in the dinner tent of a Serengeti safari camp. It was low season, no other guests were there that night, and I had just finished my dinner. It was a very quiet, peaceful evening, I couldn’t even hear the Maasai guard standing outside, but I knew he was there. 

Surrounded by the African night with all its sounds, I was just sitting there next to the entrance, staring into the pitch-black darkness outside. Listening. Was that a lion's roar I heard far away? Was that the sound of paws? Did I hear something breathe? Was there something lurking behind that tree over there, or next to that weird looking rock? Maybe it wasn’t a rock after all? 

Knowing the wild does not go to sleep as I was soon about to do, my imagination was the only limit.

Suddenly, the quiet was broken by an intense, enthusiastic dialogue I couldn't understand. The local family of mongooses came marching into the tent. I guess they knew that there could be some free food there at this time of day, and they probably did not see me sitting there quietly in the dark. 

I had seen and heard them around. The mongoose family living in the neighbourhood. They provide a constant background noise with the funniest way of communicating - a very busy chatter with chirps and high-pitched squeaks. They are very protective and would run and hide in the grass as soon as I tried to get closer. A few of the members obviously serve as security. When they spot danger, they warn the rest and get up on their back legs to act as guards. I think from their point of view, getting up on two legs makes them appear larger - a deterrent display that can scare away any intruder.

Marching into the dining tent from the side entrance, they did not see or hear me. One led the way, the rest followed in a neat little row, chatting intensely. Unaware of the human quietly observing them. Suddenly the guy in the front noticed me sitting there just two meters away. He stood up on two legs, stared at me for a second or two - probably putting on the most terrifying face he could come up with - while clearly saying something to the rest of them. The intense chatting suddenly got a noticeably higher pitch, and a moment later they all turned around and rushed back the same way they had come.

A small encounter in the darkness of a nearly empty dining tent in the middle of the Serengeti. Maybe I ruined their evening, at least when it comes to the potential free dinner. They definitely brought a charming and memorable moment into mine.