Volcanoes National Park is a chain of five volcanoes in northern Rwanda that climb straight out of terraced farmland into bamboo and cloud forest, and every mountain gorilla born in it is given a name. Since 2005 the country has held a ceremony each year for the year's infants, more than four hundred of them so far, borrowed from the way a family names a newborn child. It is not only ceremony. A named animal is a tracked animal, and the daily monitoring of known individuals is how this population is counted and defended. The mountains were named the same way, long before any of it was a park. Sabyinyo is the old man's teeth, for its jagged rim. Muhabura is the guide, because its cone once glowed as a beacon at night, and Gahinga is the little pile of volcanic stones farmers clear out of their fields.
Groups of eight leave the park headquarters each morning behind guides and trackers, each group sent to one habituated family. The trackers are already in the forest, and they radio back where their family has moved to. Your walk can take an hour or most of a morning, climbing through wet bamboo and nettles, sometimes above 3,000 metres. You get exactly one hour when you arrive, several metres back and wearing a face mask, because a human cold can kill an animal that shares almost all of our DNA. Lower down, in the bamboo belt, golden monkeys live in loud troops of dozens, feeding on fresh shoots and leaping between stems just overhead, which makes them far busier to watch than a resting gorilla family. Bisoke is climbed for its summit: a round green crater lake about 400 metres across, with Sabyinyo and Muhabura standing across the forest on a clear morning. A muddy trail takes you up to the ruins of Karisoke, where Dian Fossey is buried in a small graveyard among the gorillas she studied, beside Digit. Those graves carry names too.