The afternoon started as many of the afternoons do here at Londolozi; charged with anticipation. Leopard viewing had been somewhat harder than usual, an understandable trade-off for the spectacular lion viewing that we were having at the time. We set out with the goal of finding the Nkuwa Female and her two 11-month-old cubs. After an hour-long search that flame of anticipation was sputtering but as we found a decently fresh track it was rekindled anew. Fresh eyes scanned the bushes next to us for a glimpse of a spot, ear, or white-tipped tail.
Semi-fresh tracks on top of vehicle tracks from the morning, a very exciting sign.
We rounded a corner and Robert “Prof” Hlatshwayo, my friend and tracker, pulled off another incredible spot. There, 100m or so off of the road, in the golden embrace of the African sun, a marula tree stood sentinel over the savannah, its branches cradling a leopard. Resting beneath the dappled shadows, she exuded an air of regal indifference, her rosetted coat blending seamlessly with the play of light and shadows. But this facade of tranquillity concealed an impending drama.
An iconic scene similar to this stood before us, one that we had been hoping for for so many days.
One of two sisters born to the Nhlanguleni Female, both of whom made it to independence, the first intact litter to do so in 7 years.
Half an hour had passed, a fleeting moment for a creature as in the moment as the leopard above us when a subtle shift in the predator’s gaze marked the beginning of a narrative that would unfold with the raw intensity only found in these last wild places. It seemed a distant sound had caught her attention – an impala ram, unwittingly chosen as a player in the unforgiving game of life and death. In an instant, the leopard’s languid grace transformed into coiled tension, her eyes and ears locked onto the distant figure. She was up and descending the marula tree in an instant, barely enough time for us to get our cameras up. With ethereal grace, she embarked on the hunt.
Giving her the space she needed, we pulled back our vehicle, allowing the leopard the freedom to stalk her unsuspecting prey. The tension in the air was palpable, broken only by the rustle of leaves and distant calls of a myriad of oblivious creatures. The last we saw of him, the impala ram remained blissfully unaware as his doom approached…
Unaware
Suddenly, a single alarm call shattered the stillness, prompting our three vehicles to leap forward, ranger, tracker and guests’ hearts pounding, what would we find ahead?
And then there she was, the leopard, a silent and deadly apparition, her powerful jaws clamped around the neck of the impala ram. The ensuing struggle was a ballet of life and death, a brutal symphony played out against the backdrop of the wild. The impala fought valiantly, eyes wide with terror, but the leopard, a master of her craft, had exerted a lethal grip on her victim, one that would not be broken today.
It was a scene that gave me pause to reflect on the fragility of life, although brutal, once we break it down to its rawest form it is a simple exchange of energy. For the leopard to survive and provide for her offspring, she must eat.
And then it was over. The leopard stood above her kill to survey her surroundings, stoic and unyielding. The dance had reached its crescendo, leaving us with a profound sense of awe and reverence for the untamed beauty and harsh realities of this wilderness, and we left the final notes to be played out unobserved, carried away on the summer wind.
Life and death all part of the world we live in especially in nature where it is on raw display. Thank you for sharing the pictures of the hunt for survival.
I think a leopard’s hunt is the most appropriate example to talk about the macabre dance of life and death. Maybe only a winged predator would do the same (a falcon or a dragonfly) or a fish. So quick and precise, like a flash. They overpower their prey easily and with a mortal grip that lasts a relatively short time. I always feel sorry for the victim, its large beautiful eyes opened wide on nothing, but that’s the rule of the wilderness…
I must admit I skipped the byline when I started reading, but half way through I knew you had to be the author, Kyle. You have such a way with words. It makes reading about a difficult, but necessary (and exciting for you!) scene enjoyable. I can only imagine how all the onlookers much have felt witnessing something so primal. I’m reading a memoir about a cougar study in Idaho in the 1960’s, and have learned they ambush their prey and typically break their necks. It’s been interesting to learn about our (the US) native big cats in contrast to having learned so much about lions and leopards via this blog.
Bravo! Thanks for this beautifully written article!! We love reading all of Londelozi’s stories since it takes us right back to this magical place. We spent 4 unforgettable days with Matt and Terrence (they are absolutely the best) and will treasure these memories of the most awesome safaris for the rest of our lives.
Beautifully written as always, Kyle. For me, leopards really are the ultimate predators – doesn’t mean I want to watch the actual kill, though. I’d love to know where her 2 cubs were, and also if she managed to stash it before any hyenas arrived?
This story of life and death is so sad, but on the other hand extremely exciting and a necessity for the survival of one species against the need of the other animal to stay alive.
What an exciting afternoon drive you had to witness this struggle between prey and predator.
That is so exciting to see the Nkuwa female lying in her Marula tree, and then the next moment she is down the tree and hunting to feed her 2 sons and herself. She is a magnificent leopardess and a very good hunter pulling down such a huge ram.
Excellent story and memorable images Kyle. Nkuwa has been doing an amazing job of raising her two male cubs, who are now about 11 months, by successfully hunting for prey that is large enough for the three of them. I do think about how any loss of a predator or prey is a harsh reality, but knowing that one life is sacrificed in order to sustain various species in the food chain, keeps the balance of the natural wilderness in balance.