It was a typical December summer afternoon at Londolozi. The air hung heavy with the promise of rain, as grey clouds stretched across the sky. Despite the humidity, the bush was alive—lush greens bursting with life, birds singing their summer tunes, and insects chiming in harmony.

We had heard earlier in the day that a pack of wild dogs had been left sleeping in a dense thicket near the airstrip. Knowing their habits well, we figured they wouldn’t move until the afternoon heat began to fade. So, instead of heading straight there, we decided to explore the reserve, hoping to find elephants drinking along the Sand River before checking in on the dogs.

Sure enough, we found a beautiful herd at Finfoot Crossing, peacefully drinking and interacting with each other. After spending a while watching them, we made our way toward the airstrip, hoping our timing was just right.

As luck would have it, we arrived just as the wild dogs began to stir, stretching and shaking off their afternoon slumber. They moved onto the airstrip, scanning for prey—but the clearing was empty. For a while, they kept us guessing—standing, looking around, then lying back down again. Just when we began to wonder if they might not hunt after all, one of them suddenly took off, trotting towards the Maxabene dry riverbed. That was it—the hunt was on!

We followed as the pack moved through the riverbed, bodies low, ears pinned back, eyes locked in on potential prey. When they reached the other side, they spotted a herd of impala grazing in a clearing. In a split second, they sprang into action, sprinting at full speed. The impala scattered in every direction, leaping high into the air in a desperate attempt to escape.

As we tried to keep up with the action, a voice from the back of the vehicle shouted, “Leopard!”

In the chaos of the hunt, the wild dogs had unknowingly flushed out a leopard—one we recognized instantly: the Ximungwe Female. Given that she had recently given birth to new cubs, she was in desperate need of a meal. She had likely been stalking the same impala, only to have her hunt ruined by the wild dogs.

With such a rare sighting unfolding before us, we found ourselves facing a tough decision—should we stay with the wild dogs or follow the leopard?

Just 200 meters away, the wild dogs had successfully taken down an impala. We rushed over to watch as they feasted on their meal, each dog frantically grabbing a portion before the carcass disappeared in under five minutes. But we weren’t the only ones watching. The Ximungwe Female had crept up to the thicket line, her eyes locked onto the wild dogs, waiting patiently for an opportunity to steal what she could.

Not far away, we heard that the rest of the pack had also managed to make a kill. The dogs we were following quickly finished their portions and ran off to claim a share of the other kill. All except one. One lone wild dog stayed behind, still chewing on what little remained of the impala.

The Ximungwe Female saw her opportunity.

We held our breath as she moved closer and closer, step by step, using the tall grass for cover. She got within meters of the unsuspecting wild dog, crouched low, ready to strike.

Then—she pounced!

The wild dog reacted instantly, bolting away at full speed. The chase was on—Leopard vs. Wild Dog.

They raced past our vehicle, the Ximungwe Female launching herself at him, missing by mere inches. But wild dogs are built for endurance, and with his superior speed, he managed to escape her, dashing back toward the safety of the rest of the pack.

Defeated, the Ximungwe Female returned to what was left of the impala. But by then, there was almost nothing. She picked up a scrap of skin, carried it a few steps, then dropped it, realizing it wasn’t worth the effort.

Watching her, you couldn’t help but feel for her. A mother with young cubs to feed, she was in desperate need of a proper meal. The wild dogs, in their usual chaotic fashion, had unknowingly disrupted what could have been her best hunting opportunity.

That’s life out here—a constant battle for survival, where even the best hunters sometimes walk away empty-handed.

For us, it had been an unforgettable afternoon—heart-pounding action, unexpected twists, and a reminder of how unpredictable nature can be.