“The art of tracking may well be the origin of science.” This is the departure point for a 2013 book by Louis Liebenberg, co-founder of an organisation devoted to environmental monitoring.

The connection between tracking in nature, as people have done since prehistory, and “western” science is of special interest to us as ichnologists. (Ichnology is the study of tracks and traces.) We learned our skills relatively late in life. But imagine if we had learned as children and if, as adults, we tracked as if our lives depended on it? What additional visual and cognitive talents would we bring to our field work as scientists?

Our mission is to find and document the fossilised tracks and traces of creatures that existed during part of the Pleistocene Epoch, between 35,000 and 400,000 years ago, on the Cape coast of South Africa. Since 2008, through the Cape South Coast Ichnology project, based in the African Centre for Coastal Palaeoscience at Nelson Mandela University, more than 370 vertebrate tracksites have been identified. They have substantially complemented the traditional record of body fossils. Examples include trackways of giant tortoises and giraffe.

Given the challenges inherent in identifying such tracks, we wondered how hunters who’ve been tracking all their lives would view our work, and how age-old indigenous expertise might align with our approach.

Fortunately we could call on experts with these skills in southern Africa. The Ju/’hoansi (pronounced “Juun-kwasi”) San people of north-eastern Namibia are perhaps the last of southern Africa’s indigenous inhabitants who retain the full suite of their ancient environmental skills. The Nyae Nyae conservancy in which they live gives them access to at least some of their historical land with its remaining wildlife. They still engage in subsistence hunting with bow and poisoned arrow and gather food that’s growing wild.

A handful among them have been recognised as Indigenous Master Tracker, a title created by Liebenberg’s CyberTracker initiative in recognition of their top-flight hunter-gatherer status. And so, late in 2023, the Master Trackers #oma (“Komma”) Daqm and /uce (“Tchu-shey”) Nǂamce arrived in Cape Town.

We were not the first to think along these lines. Ju/’hoansi Master Trackers have assisted scientists in the interpretation of hominin tracksites in French caves, and prehistoric tracks in the rock art record in Namibia. However, we knew that our often poorly preserved tracksites in aeolianites (cemented dunes) might present a stiffer challenge.

Our purpose was to compare our own interpretations of fossil trackways with those of the Master Trackers, and possibly find some we had overlooked. As we’ve set out in a recently published paper with the Ju/’hoansi trackers and our colleague Jan De Vynck as co-authors, they did exactly this, confirming the first fossil hyena trackway ever to be found.

Swapping techniques

The Late Pleistocene is not that far distant from the present (a mere 125,000 years), and many of the species that made tracks on the Cape south coast then are still with us. Some are extinct but have recognisable tracks, like the giant long-horned buffalo and giant Cape zebra.

We knew, though, that tracking in Kalahari sand, like the Ju/’hoansi do, is not the same as tracking on Pleistocene rock surfaces. Many of our tracks are preserved on the undersides of ceilings and overhangs, or are evident in profile in cliff exposures. Our track-bearing surfaces are usually small, and present no associated signs. We can’t follow the spoor for any distance. We don’t know at what time of day the tracks were made or the role of dew, and we have never succeeded in actually tracking down our quarry. Coprolites – fossilised droppings – are seldom found conveniently beside the tracks of the depositor.

We showed our new colleagues known fossil tracksites, without providing our own interpretations. #oma and /uce discussed these between themselves and presented their conclusions about what had made the tracks and how the animal had been behaving. We then shared our insights and our 3D photogrammetry data where applicable, and reached joint conclusions.

Soon they were identifying freshly exposed tracksites without our input, and were providing fascinating, new interpretations for sites which had puzzled us. For example, they saw ostrich tracks which we had missed, beside ostrich egg remnants, and concluded that we were probably looking at a fossilised ostrich nest. On another occasion they pointed out the distinctive track pattern of a scrub hare on the hanging wall of an eroded piece of cliff.

First fossilised hyena trackway

One of the most memorable experiences involved a 400,000-year-old trackway on a rock surface at Dana Bay, identified a few years earlier by local geologists Aleck and Ilona Birch. This rock had only been transiently exposed for a few days in the past decade, usually being covered by beach sand.

Our earlier interpretation had been that the trackmaker might have been a hyena, probably the brown hyena.

We were vindicated when our master tracker colleagues independently reached the identical conclusion. Examining our digital 3D images together fortified our collective judgement.

This was a big deal: it was the first fossil hyena trackway to be confidently identified, as previous examples had involved only individual tracks or poorly preserved possible trackway segments. Hyena trackways are distinctive: the forefoot tracks are substantially larger than those of the hindfoot.

Different ways of seeing

Both of us are privileged to have university degrees and institutional affiliations. But there is another way in which acumen can be measured: the ability to use the ancient methods of discernment and pattern recognition to support and feed one’s family and community through tracking, hunting and gathering.

What we have demonstrated, we believe, is a novel confluence of old and new ways to reveal fascinating features of the past. We use geological understanding, satellite technology, paleontological databases, tracking manuals and sophisticated dating methods. But hunter-gatherers see what escapes us and our drones: obscure strokes and enigmatic configurations on time-beaten surfaces. They tap an alternative knowledge base, both culturally received and cultivated from childhood.

The follow-through challenge must be to develop this partnership for mutual discovery and reward, understanding the past to better equip us for our uncertain future.