The mokoro dugout ‘canoe’ sits low enough in the Khwai River that I can feel the passing reeds brush against the hull. My guide Inno — short for Innocent — poles through the channels with unhurried expertise, past lily pads, papyrus and overgrown grass. A Verreaux’s eagle owl hoots from somewhere in the leadwood trees. When hippos grunt and shift in the distance, Inno doesn’t flinch. They won’t venture this far in until after dark, he tries to a…