As a breeze blows through the savannah,
a snake-shaped tube stretches into the air
and scans the horizon like a periscope.
But it’s not seeing—
it’s sniffing for odors
like the scent of a watering hole
or the musk of a dangerous predator.
The trunk’s owner
is a young African elephant.
At only 8 years old, she still has
a lot to learn about her home.
Fortunately, she’s not alone.
Elephants are extremely social creatures,
with females living in tight-knit herds
led by a single matriarch.
And every member of the group
has one of the most versatile tools
in the savannah to help them get by.
Today her herd is looking for water.
Or, more accurately, smelling for water.
Elephants have more genes devoted
to smell than any other creature,
making them the best sniffers
in the animal kingdom.
Even at our elephant’s young age,
her trunk is already 1.5 meters long
and contains five times as many
olfactory receptors as a human nose,
allowing her to smell standing water
several kilometers away.
And now, the matriarch uses her own keen
sense of smell to plot the herd’s course.
Their journey is long,
so our elephant keeps her energy up
by snacking on the occasional patch
of thick grass.
But this light lunch
isn’t just about staying fed—
she’s also looking for clues.
Like many other mammals,
vents in the roof of an elephant’s mouth
lead directly to the vomeronasal organ.
This structure can detect chemical
signals left by other elephants.
So as the herd forages,
they’re also gathering information
about what other herds have come this way.
All the while, the group’s adults are
on the lookout for signs of other animals,
including potential threats.
Fortunately, while lions might attack
a young or sickly elephant,
few are foolish enough to take
on a healthy adult.
Weighing 3 tons and bearing powerful tusks
nearly a meter long,
our elephant’s mother is a force
to be reckoned with.
Her dexterous trunk doubles
as a powerful, flexible arm.
Containing no bones
and an estimated 40,000 muscles,
these agile appendages
can bend, twist, contract, and expand.
At 8 years old, our elephant’s trunk
is already strong enough
to move small fallen trees,
while finger-like extensions allow for
delicate maneuvers like wiping her eye.
She can even grab a nearby branch,
break it to just the right length,
and wave off pesky insects.
Suddenly, the matriarch stops their march
and sniffs the air.
Using smell alone, elephants can recognize
each member of their herd,
and their exceptional memories can
retain the smells of elephants
outside their herd as well.
It’s one of these old but familiar odors
that’s caught the matriarch’s attention.
She bellows into the air,
sending out a sound wave
that rings across the savannah.
But it travels even further
through the earth as infrasonic rumbles.
Elephants up to 10 kilometers away can
receive these rumbles with their feet.
If the matriarch’s nose is right,
her herd should expect a response.
Smelling the secretions
from her daughter’s temporal glands,
our elephant’s mother can sense
her daughter’s unease
about this unfamiliar encounter.
As the herd of unknown
elephants approaches,
trunks from both herds rise into the air,
sounding trumpets of alarm.
But upon recognition, apprehension
quickly gives way to happy rumbles.
Members from each herd recognize
each other despite time apart,
and many investigate each other’s mouths
with their trunks
to smell what their counterparts
have been eating.
With the reunion now in full swing, both
herds head toward their final destination:
the long-awaited watering hole.
Here, older elephants suck up to 8 liters
of water into their trunks
before spraying the contents
on themselves to cool off.
Meanwhile, our young elephant plays
in the mud with her peers,
digging into the muck
and even using her trunk as a snorkel
to breathe while submerged.
The pair of matriarchs look
contentedly on their herds,
before turning their trunks
to the horizon once more.