Our leopard viewing is phenomenal.
Being right at the heart of the area with the highest leopard density yet recorded in Africa allows us practically unrivalled viewing of these magnificent cats, and on top of well-documented leopard behaviour, we are also able to record behaviours previously unwitnessed.
Father and son pairs courting the same female. Two females courting a male. Females raising cubs to the age of one year then pushing them into premature independence (and essentially to their deaths) to come into oestrus and mate once more.
The more we try to understand, the more we realise we don’t know, yet the more we appreciate that the behaviour of leopards – as for many animals – is far more varied than a simple species-wide description. It is down to the individual, in its individual circumstance in time and habitat.
The type of behaviour you won’t read about in books…
Yet despite our best efforts to habituate young leopards to the presence of Land Rovers – mainly through sensitive viewing when they are young – some remain enigmas; even leopards born and raised in the Sabi Sand Reserve.
And if I’m honest, these are my favourite individuals.
Read Mark Manson’s two books – The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F@#$, and Everything is F#$@ed, both of which are brilliant and which I can highly recommend – and you’ll learn about how the real key to enjoying a satisfying life is the solving of problems, not the avoiding of them. This might be obvious to some, but it’s news to many others. It is through struggle that we learn and grow, and I know this may seem like an obscure example of what Mr. Manson is trying to talk about, but I prefer a leopard sighting that doesn’t come easy.
It took many days, many hours of fruitless tracking and many hours spent patiently waiting for the Nhlanguleni female to call her cubs out before I saw this.
The Mashaba female was born in the Sand River within two kilometres of the Londolozi camps, and I have probably seen her hundreds of times in my time here. Very rarely has she looked straight at me. To her, the Land Rover I drive is simply an extension of her environment – completely ignorable. She might approach along a gravel road and not then even deign to lift her head as she walks by within touching distance.
Londolozi's oldest territorial female. Distinguished by her nose spot, this Sunsetbend matriarch's legacy lives on through her daughters.
The kind of leopard viewing we are used to at Londolozi.
The Robson’s 4:4 male on the other hand, was a completely different story. Shy, elusive, preferring to walk the drainage lines rather than venture down the roads… weeks would go by without a sighting of him. And when he was found, you couldn’t get to within 50 metres of him before you could see his discomfort growing and he would slink off into the long grass, often not to be seen again for days.
This rangy male was an enigma, arriving on Londolozi in the mid to latter parts of 2014 and staying mainly in the western areas.
With him, you had to work for a sighting. You had to sit very still and very quiet. You couldn’t get close. You had to anticipate his movements, but even then he’d most likely just avoid the log you were parked near in the hope that he’d jump on it.
Yet, if you even managed one clean photo or even just a clear view of him, you rode that high for days. It almost certainly hadn’t come without effort, even if that effort was simply self-control.
The Robson’s 4:4 male in a rare photo in the open.
The Mawelawela male is like that. Despite being born in the Sabi Sand Reserve, he grew up unrelaxed, and even though he has been resident on Londolozi for at least the last nine months, I can count the sightings of him on the fingers of two hands. Tracks of a male leopard are called in on the radio, the occasional growl is heard from a thicket line when the trackers are on foot, but for the most part, he goes unseen.
I recently sat for well over two hours near a kill he had made in the hope that he’d show himself, but my only reward was a spotted back disappearing into some Terminalia thickets. Yet even that – my first official sighting of him if my memory serves me correctly – was hugely satisfying.
There was effort, there was reward – albeit a minor one – and in the combination of the two there was the validation of the whole experience.
It’s amazing how many metaphors for life can be found in the bush, and in the simplicity of simply sitting in silence, waiting for an unrelaxed leopard to emerge from hiding, can be found the beginnings of life’s joy.
Just as long as you catch a glimpse of a whisker…
It is always exciting to see leopards. If it is just a glimpse in the long grass or a tail hanging from a tree and the best surprrise when a leopard walk down the road straight at you. It is special.
James, another very enjoyable blog post. Always enjoy shots of the young cubs
How very true, James! The thrill of the hunt is a big part of the excitement in spotting a leopard or any of the beautiful animals in that area.
In leopards do the males kill the cubs to mate with the females like lions do ?
James, what a wonderful blog – I already saved the the two Leopards in the tree, and the female with two cubs – but I also saved all the other photos!
Great to see that even you have novel experiences to keep you so interested!
Awesome blog leopard’s are absolutely amazing animals and so beautiful
I see that, as with humans, each leopard has its character. Hence the difficulty of knowing more about these magnificent animals. But my faith, a little mystery is not so bad.
James, what you’ve expressed in this blog is so true on so many levels. That which comes easily or is expected, does not elicit as much satisfaction or joy as the rare moments when the seemingly impossible comes to fruition- for you that glimpse of the elusive leopard…… patience, determination, knowledge, and flexibility can lead to personal joy. Thank you!
I totally get it! For me it’s the thrill of finding pretty much anything in the bush. Since I was a young child I loved going to the game reserve, sitting in the back seat with my own set of binoculars and a bird book. I was the spotter and back seat driver and I very rarely missed anything. These days I relish anything I find because of my love for wildlife photography, so the thrill has escalated from those childhood days of merely spotting to now spotting and photographing. Some of the best pics I’ve taken have been in the Kruger Park and those sightings and the photographic rewards most often did not come quickly or easily 🙂
With regard to the leopards names, I assume they are mostly named because of the territory they occupy or where they were first spotted? I’m curious about the Piccadilly female, how did she get that name?
I have the most beautiful picture of the Tamboti Female and her last cub. Shortly after returning home I read the sad news of her death. Is her cub still surviving? Also, thanks for your video postings. I haven’t seen everyone yet but I really enjoy them.
I love these analogies – highly useful in my world… especially at this time in history. And I’ve ordered the Mark Manson books per your recommendation James! Your comments and application of his message ring true in my experience. Thank you.
This is human nature, James. As a child I lived 2 blocks away from the Zoo Lake and about 4 kms from the Zoo in Jhb. I grew so used to this that I very seldom visited them, whereas people living far away used to travel many miles in distance to visit both. I used to go to sleep at night listening to lions roaring and hyena’s “laughing” etc and didn’t think anything about it. My friends who visited used to all remark on this looking startled. Human nature. Never really changes. Lots of wonderful Leopard viewing and people start EXPECTING Leopards and feel let down when they don’t see them perhaps. But you have SO MUCH ELSE to show them! Wendy M
I totally understand where you’re coming from, James, the satisfaction is always greatest when it hasn’t come too easily – applies to so many things in life! Has there been any news on Nhlanguleni’s cubs recently?