Kinyongia xenorhina, a Jewel of the Albertine Rift
Kinyongia xenorhina definitely belongs to the most spectacular chameleon species. It is native to the Rwenzori Mountains, the so-called "Mountains of the Moon," where it occurs on both sides of the mountain ridge, in the east and the west. Its altitudinal distribution starts around 1,200 m and reaches around 2,600 m above sea level, so they do not reach the highest peaks; instead, their distribution forms a belt at the mentioned altitudes.
It is a very shy and nervous chameleon species, which is not only extremely hard to spot in the wild, but most specimens are also very prone to stress and can even die in your hands while being handled. Therefore, the few animals that have come legally into captivity are not easy to keep or reproduce, despite some reported successes. Exceptional animals remain very calm and ignore humans, even posing for beautiful pictures showcasing their colorful, lichen-like patterns, while stressed animals turn black or brown.
I have experienced this species intensely in several locations in the Rwenzori Mountains during a field expedition in 1996. After days of searching for this spectacular species within the boundaries of the national park, I lay exhausted on my back in the forest at around 2,400 m and watched the canopies about 20 m above me. I decided to take binoculars and slowly search the canopies. It takes some time to adjust to the powerful lenses, and even after a few minutes, your eyes start to tire. But as sturdy as I am, I continued to search, and about 25 minutes later, I spotted one adult male of this species high up in the forest canopy.
We tried to climb the trees to get closer, and while we were attempting it, the chameleon coiled together like a disc or a round leaf and fell to the ground. We noted the exact spot where it touched down and ran the few meters to find it. It took us about 20 more minutes to locate the chameleon, which was perfectly camouflaged with its deep brown tones and slender body.
Because our guides knew that we were searching for chameleons, they were, of course, running much faster than we were on the descent from the peaks of the Rwenzori Mountains. Along the way, they caught two females and, not wanting to wait for us, put them in a plastic bag and hung it over the forest path where we were supposed to pass and see it. Unfortunately, the sun rose and heated the plastic bag, which resulted in us finding both females dead. Both of them were highly gravid, with their body cavities containing 12 and 16 almost fully developed eggs, respectively. What a pity!
We descended to the small settlement of Nyiakalengijo, where I continued to search for this species. The locals told us that they often see them in the relatively small trees, no more than 6 meters high, around the small artificial lake. Trusting them, I searched for about an hour and found nothing during the daytime. While I was becoming tired and preparing to leave, I decided to search one of the trees very thoroughly. I examined every single branch, scrutinizing centimeter by centimeter from the bottom up to the canopy, first from one side and then from the other, yet I found nothing. Suddenly, I spotted an adult male of this spectacular species sitting motionlessly on a branch just about 1.5 meters from me, with its head tilted down, watching me intently with both eyes. What a delight!
About 30 kilometers further, in the vicinity of a village called Jambo, we found another beautifully colored specimen perched about 14 meters high on a solitary tree, standing tall amidst the gardens and plantations created by the locals after the forest had been cut down almost completely. I felt exceptionally lucky to observe this enigmatic species in the wild, as I still remembered the sight of a specimen deposited in the Museum of the Humboldt University of Berlin, for which my dear friend Vladimír Trailin had drawn a wonderful illustration for my book.
