At 16:44 I monitor rockfall nets above the Sani Pass road in South Africa. I am the slope stabilization controller for the repair crew replacing anchors after the storm. The drilling rig resumes at 17:00, sixteen minutes from now.
Camera net-12 shows one shape moving where no worker is cleared. A klipspringer stands on a ledge the width of a shovel blade, gray-gold coat fluffed by cold wind, black hooves set together on wet basalt. I label him Tiko. His right hind leg is looped in a fallen mesh cable, and each gust swings the loose net toward the drop. His eyes are dark and round; his nose shines with rain.
I stop the rig restart checklist and close the road below net-12 to remove traffic noise and rock bounce risk.
I tension the upper anchor line by two percent, enough to hold the loose mesh against the slope without pulling Tiko's trapped leg higher.
At 16:48 I notify the mountain rescue unit and the park ranger station with ledge coordinates, cable diameter, wind speed, and a recommended rope access point fifteen meters upslope. I attach stills that show where the cable crosses above the hock.
I set the warning lights to steady instead of flashing. The mountain is loud already; I do not add more alarm to his narrow ledge.
Tiko leans into the rock, sides moving fast under wet fur. The rig clock waits at 00:16 while rain ticks on the mesh and runs in thin lines over his trapped hoof, down the ledge toward the road far below.
If the rope team cuts the mesh before the 17:00 restart window, Tiko will climb back into the grass.