THE CALL OF THE WILD : HAIR-RAISING, HEART-STOPPING ADVENTURES WITH HIPPOS, CROCS IN ZIMBABWE.

Byline: Judi Dash Special to the Daily News

With a dozen giant hippos yawning menacingly on our right and a trio of elephants trumpeting angrily on our left, this would have been a prudent time to gun the motor and zoom out of danger.

However, we were in a canoe.

So as quietly as possible, with hearts pounding madly, we paddled between the two mammoth species, hoping they would sense we were not rivals coveting their turf but harmless, if annoying, tourists just passing through.

``Good one,'' our guide, Ian Riddell, called out gleefully from the lead canoe after we were safely past peril. Then he added: ``You know, sometimes, hippos like to chomp a canoe in half just to show who's boss.''

This was one of many sobering truths we learned during our two-week exploration of Zimbabwe, one of Africa's most varied and unspoiled wilderness areas.

Few other places can boast such quick access - via a well-run network of small planes and expert guide services - to virgin stretches of wild but navigable rivers, vast game preserves where walking safaris make for intimate wildlife watching, heart-stopping whitewater rafting alongside thundering waterfalls, and otherworldly expanses of giant balancing rock formations where ancient paintings adorn granite caves and rare black rhinos can be spotted during horseback expeditions.

More than 19,000 square miles of Zimbabwe's land area (at 150,000-plus square miles, it's about the size of California) are protected wildlife and wilderness zones - including 11 national parks, 14 botanical reserves, 17 designated safari areas and six wildlife sanctuaries.

Yet until recently, the country went virtually ignored by most adventure outfitters, who preferred to stick to the reliable but increasingly tourist-trampled safari lands of East Africa, notably Kenya and Tanzania. And although Zimbabwe (formerly racially segregated southern Rhodesia) has been democratic since 1980, many politically correct vacationers stayed away from the entire region until southern neighbor South Africa abandoned apartheid in 1990.

Now, more than a dozen major travel companies run trips to the country, many combining hiking, canoeing, rafting, game viewing on foot and in safari vehicles, and sometimes horseback riding.

Kariba was our jumping-off point for explorations of the wildlife-rich lands around manmade Lake Kariba, an inland sea created when the Zambezi River was dammed in 1958. We had come to explore adjacent Matusadona National Park, a mountainous area fronted by flooded plains studded with the skeletal branches of submerged teak trees, and the wild canoe country of the Zambezi River to the east.

We hopped from plane to Land Rover to motorboat to reach Water Wilderness, a floating safari camp off Lake Kariba, on a tributary of the Umi River. From the boat, we gazed at hippos wading in the shallows and, overhead, fish-eagles scanning the water for prey.

Rounding a bend, we saw four tiny wooden houses with screened-in porches floating on pontoons amid green lily pads and the gnarled fingers of submerged trees. A larger floating structure with a roof-top terrace was the main lodge, dining area, bar and lounge. As we arrived, eight guests were returning from a sunrise game-viewing canoe trip and nature hike along the lake shore. They were breathless with tales of sightings - rhinos trudging through the brush, baby hippos snorting and twirling their ears playfully, a cheetah gracefully sprinting across the horizon, a lion chomping on a freshly killed buffalo - and all this was before breakfast!

Our own adventure began later that day with a return by small plane to Kariba and a two-hour van ride east to Churumba along the Zambezi River. From there, a 15-foot skiff sped us another hour east to Ruckomechi, a small riverside safari camp along the Zambezi shore. Zipping by elephants drinking from the river, rhinos at play, impalas that looked up nervously and families of baboons laughing at us from the trees and parched shoreline, we felt like observers of a National Geographic special trapped in a mad fast-forward mode.

We had come here to join a three-day Zambezi canoe safari. A camp crew would set up comfy tents along the route as our small group, led by a licensed safari guide, slowly made its way east along the wild parklands toward Mana Pools National Park.

First, however, we had to survive the night at Ruckomechi. As a hostess escorted us to our small cottage set in a semicircle around the perimeter of the camp, she cautioned us to look around carefully before stepping outside our door at night and always to stay on the lighted path.

``It's not a question of if animals come into the camp,'' she said, smiling. ``Animals are in camp - lions, cheetah, elephants. If you spot one of these, stay inside until the coast is clear.''

That night, our door was blocked by a massive form that turned out to be an elephant loudly ripping leaves from an overhanging acacia branch - a meal favored by these nocturnal munchers who, we learned, spend a good 18 hours a day feeding their inefficient digestive systems. Later, after shaking my husband out of what sounded like a particularly loud snore, I realized that the offending noise had come from a baboon who had taken up a post against the outside wall supporting our headboard.

In the morning, we embarked on our first walking safari. Tory Williamson, 27, a muscular young man with a fierce-looking .458-caliber rifle, led us into the brush, pointing out promising spoor - animal tracks and droppings that, when fresh, meant a likely encounter. He cautioned us to stay close behind him and to avoid needless talking. If we did come upon anything aggressive, he warned, ``Don't scream, run away or climb any trees.''

Troy would shout to dissuade approaching predators. And if that didn't work, he would fire a warning shot that nearly always did the trick. Shooting an animal was a tragic act no guide would resort to except in a clearly life-threatening situation.

That afternoon, we set out on our three-day paddle. Perched two to a canoe in four boats, we listened raptly as Ian gave a safety talk on such things as what to do if a hippo surfaced under our canoe or a crocodile bit our paddle. Then we settled into a rhythmic synchrony, dipping our paddles in and out of the calm waters as we savored the soft heat of the late afternoon sun and admired the wide curve of the blackberry-colored river, the green veldt and the misty gray escarpment on the Zambia side.

Hippos snorted and surfaced around us, impalas gazed at us from the Zimbabwe shoreline, and elephants grazing along the riverbank looked at us cautiously but generally seemed unconcerned. We were, after all, carefully following the rules of the river - never come between a hippo and deep water, never make sudden movements when approaching an elephant - and for this we were rewarded with safe passage.

We reached the first night's camp at Vundu, a dusty clearing amid acacia and mopane trees, as a red-orange sun was rapidly going dark purple. The camp crew, which had followed a back road along the route, has readied four sturdy canvas tents with two cots each along the river bank. A shower tent was off to one side, and back in the brush, an outhouse tent with a portable toilet and a big bucket of lye discreetly awaited patrons. Later, lying in our cots listening to two lions returning one another's calls, we hoped they were not saying: ``The tourists are here; let's do lunch.''

On the water again, the scene had changed dramatically from the previous day. Instead of paddling down a wide open river, we were now navigating through a serpentine system of narrow channels and islands, abundant with water hyacinths and flanked by grassy riverbanks populated with families of baboons and leaping herds of impala. Brooding cape buffalo and lone bull elephants dotted the tiny islands.

Suddenly, Ian motioned to pull close to the right bank and cease all conversation. A huge hippo was wading dead-ahead and we had to avoid coming between it and the next island. When the animal suddenly submerged, we held a collective breath waiting to see where he popped up. He surfaced island-side, safely off our track - but we were not in the clear yet. Up ahead on the left bank, a huge pod of hippos was bounding toward the river. Ian gambled that we could pass them before they entered the water. He was three-quarters right. The three other canoes passed easily, but my boatmate and I were having a steering dispute, and soon found ourselves surrounded by dozens of big brown eyes arching above massive submerged bodies. We paddled furiously - suddenly in perfect sync - and safely reached our six comrades.

We got another shot of adrenaline a mile ahead when an elephant came running out of the brush, sloshed into the river, and halted no more than six feet from the lead canoe. It was a peaceful encounter; and we all laughed as the elephant shared a huge torrent of spray as he doused himself with river water.

By late afternoon, we reached our camp at Mana Pools - named for the small indentations that collect water in the rainy season that supports huge numbers of thirsty wildlife in the dry season. The entire river and countryside were bathed in a golden glow, as were we as we sat watching the sunset, nursing cold beers and mourning the end of our canoe trip. But exciting memories were hardly in short supply on this vacation. One day we were flying out of canoe country, heading south to Hwange National Park for more walking safaris and game viewing from cottages built into the trees at Kanondo Tree Camp; another, we were gliding in a seaplane over daunting Victoria Falls (twice the height of Niagara), watching whitewater rafters submerge and pop up amid the roiling rapids and violent spray at the foot of the falls.

Our final adventure - in Matopos National Park, a world of giant granite outcroppings with boulders balancing on craggy peaks - was more tranquil. Our lodgings at Camp Amalinda seemed right off the set of ``The Flintstones.'' Individual cottages were built around and into the rocks, and our room had a slab balcony overlooking a vast moonscape of rocks and ridges. On the rock wall supporting our stone-age terrace were the faint reddish outlines of human forms. These turned out to be ancient rock paintings, artifacts for which the Matopos are famous.

We ventured further into the Matopos the next day on a horseback safari. Wildlife hardly flinched when we approached. Warthogs stared up at us in mild curiosity, then went back to digging for roots with their horny snouts, wildebeest trudged by without a glance, and a group of giraffes accompanied us down a long stretch of tall grasses before ambling off into the bush.

That memory of trotting through the bush, giraffes at our side, was perhaps the most indelible of the trip. Certainly it was not the most dramatic incident, but it was the sweetest - a rare moment of inter-species camaraderie magically free of fear, distrust or danger.

On Location

There are several adventure outfitters that offer trips to Zimbabwe. Among them:

Africa Adventure Co., [phone]; African Travel, [phone]; Geographic Expeditions, [phone]; Himalayan Travel, [phone]; Mountain Travel/Sobek, [phone]; Natural Habitat Adventures, (800) 543-891; Wilderness Travel, [phone].

Zimbabwe offers a variety of lodgings, including:

Meikles Hotel, Harare, best hotel in town, opposite the main square. Book through Leading Hotels of the World, [phone].

Water Wilderness, Bumi, houseboats off Lake Kariba. Book through Unirep, [phone].

Ruckomechi Camp and Shearwater Safaris, Zambezi River lodge and multiday canoe safaris as well as whitewater raft trips at Victoria Falls. Fax [phone]; phone: [phone].

Makalolo Camp, Hwange, comfortable safari camp with game walks and drives. Book through Unirep, [phone].

Kanondo Tree Camp, Hwange, rustic camp with accommodations in raised ``tree houses.'' Book through Unirep, [phone].

Victoria Falls Hotel, elegant throwback to colonial days and within walking distance of Victoria Falls. Book through Unirep, [phone].

Camp Amalinda, Matopos Hills, magical lodgings built into rocky Matopos Hills. Fax, 011-2639-783-19; phone, 011-2639-43954.

For more information, contact the Zimbabwe Tourist Office, [phone].

CAPTION(S):

5 Photos,Box

Photo: (1-2--Color) Canoeing past an elephant on the Zambezi River, above left, and mingling with giraffes on horseback in the Matopos Hills, above. Below, a dancer in Makishi tribal dress.

(3-4--Color) Rafting the wild whitewater at the foot of Victoria Falls, above. At right, safari fashion plus camera aboard a motor boat en route to a floating camp off Lake Kariba.

(5) At Mana Pools camp, the day starts with breakfast on the banks of the Zambezi River.

Judi Dash/Special to the Daily News

Box: On Location (See text)