This one leaps up from beneath, securing her jaws around the zebra's neck. He stumbles to the ground. Six other pride members dart in from all about. The giant feast is on.

The zebra kicks and squeals for a torturous 10 minutes. But now the lion's maws are bloody red. At last the zebra doesn't move.

This is the Masai Mara, a place where both savagery and beauty would seem to have no bounds. Such life-and-death struggles are acted out here a hundred times a day. But mostly well away from human eyes.

Roman influence: The toga the Maasai wear come from the Romans.

We have been lucky, if it's "lucky" to be witness to such horror. But the chance of getting such sightings is what brings most visitors to the Mara, for here you find Kenya?s greatest concentration of game.

Lodges have multiplied almost as quickly as the animals themselves. And game drive vehicles can at times get almost jammed up on the plains. Still the sightings just keep coming.

Your standard ones are huge aggregations of gazelles - mainly Thompson's and Grant's - and giant herds of wildebeest, Cape buffalo and zebra, plus the A to Z of African game. You will just about see them all.

As a bonus there are those special episodes - sometimes comic, like when a tiny elephant calf tries to learn to use his still uncontrollable trunk; sometimes dramatic, like the kills and narrow escapes; and at times there are those moments that are downright bizarre, like when a young lion braves the upper branches of a tree, or a bull elephant charges at a marabou stork.

There is a lot of entertainment out here in the bush.

Our luxurious tented camp (sounds like an oxymoron, I know) is located on the leafy banks of the Telok River. You wake to such unfamiliar sounds as thunderous hippo trumpeting amidst the sweet notes from a Maasai warrior's flute.

You dine on a terrace overlooking the stream, catching the eye of a giant croc below. You hope he's also dined. The grounds are well-guarded, but this is Africa, and don?t be surprised in the morning to find leopard or hyena prints not far from your tent.

The Masai Mara - at least outside the game reserve - is home to the Maasai people (yes, it is spelt differently). A famously proud and independent pastoral tribe, they originally migrated here from the Nile. Their toga-like red robes are said to have their origins in the ancient Romans.

We are taken to visit one of their villages. It-s housed in a circular enclosure, into which the Maasai drive their precious cattle at night - safe from the lions. Cattle are the Maasai's currency. Around seven cows buy a bride. They are also their food - meat on ceremonial occasions, milk and blood at any time of the day.

A wild head-dress.

The blood is collected in gourds, straight from the living animal, whose neck artery is pierced with an arrow for the purpose, then sealed with dung.

You do feel a little intrusive visiting such a place, but the Maasai, for their part, don't seem to mind at all. They are more intent on selling you their gorgeous beaded jewellery and spears. And the profits help buy them little luxuries and build amenities and schools.

The most opportune time to visit the Mara is when the wildebeest migration is in full swing. One of the world's great natural wonders, it sees millions of wildebeest and zebra journeying up to the Mara from Tanzania?s Serengeti in the south.

They are following the rains, and with them new, sweet grass. They arrive in July or early August. And it's not just the grazers that abound. For attending them are all their natural predators as well: lion, cheetah and leopard among them, and that master thief and scavenger, the hyena.

They are bound to be there somewhere, whenever there's a kill.

A constant source of delight on the Mara are the birds. Your first sighting of, say, a pair of crested cranes adorning an acacia tree, or a fish eagle swooping on its hapless finned prey, can leave you totally spellbound.

Serious bird aficionados - known colloquially as "tweeters" - tick off their numerous sightings in a little book provided for the purpose. Others, like me, get tempted to join their merry ranks in birdly camaraderie.

You might leave the Mara with the feeling that you have shared it with a few too many. This is the downside. But the upside is far greater. For, along with the Serengeti, this is the finest place in Africa for viewing game.

Regulars will swear they can tap into the very spirit of the land. Just stand atop a knoll, one advised me, and watch the rolling waves of red-capped savannah grass, punctuated by flat-topped acacias and the roaming grazing herds.

Yes, the Masai Mara, you conclude, does truly have a soul - that of Africa itself. -The Star, ANN