When Reece’s voice crackled through the radio, saying he’d found the Mawelawela Male just up ahead of us, I think I might’ve jolted in my seat a little. This was the one leopard that had evaded me, well, not just me but a fair few of the rangers here.
Born 2013, initially a fairly aggressive elusive male that has somewhat relaxed. Found in unconventional leopard territory of the grasslands
He’s an elusive one. The kind of leopard that doesn’t stick around for long. Often, you get a brief glimpse—shoulders just visible through the grass—and then he melts away like smoke. Try to follow him too closely and he’ll let you know. I’ve heard him growl from a distance, and once he even gave a half-hearted charge toward a vehicle. Not with aggression exactly, but enough to keep you alert, keep your eyes glued to him, second-guessing what he’ll do next. Enough to know not to get too close.
As Luck Would Have It
This time, though, luck was on our side.
We were the only vehicle with him for almost two hours. He moved silently through the long grass, the kind that catches the early morning light just right. The rising sun lit up his coat—those rich golds and oranges—and for a moment it felt like the whole bush had slowed down.
Mawelawela stalks some Impala.
We kept our distance as he made his way across a series of rocky outcrops, stopping now and then to scan the open plains. He looked completely in control. Like he knew every path, every scent, every shadow on the ground. From that height, he owned the place.
Mawelawela stares at us from his vantage point. My favourite picture of the sighting!
Locked Gaze
What struck me most was how often his gaze met mine through the lens; his eyes would lock onto mine. Male leopards have this intensity that’s hard to explain—especially ones like Mawelawela. It wasn’t threatening. But it also wasn’t passive. It felt as though he was measuring me, reminding me that this was his domain.
Mawelawela male pauses as we left him walking away from us down the road.
We sat quietly. No one said much. Moments like these don’t need running commentary.
Eventually, he moved off again. Paused to scent mark. Listened. Stalked a herd of impala for a few heartbeats before deciding against it. The whole time, that feeling stayed with me: how quickly this could’ve gone another way. How easily he could’ve ghosted back into the bush without a sound, and left us wondering if he’d ever really been there.
Mawelawela stares at us through the long grass. The burnt orange grass and his coat making for some really cool colour parallels!
But this morning he gave us time. Gave us space. Gave us a moment.
We left him as he was walking slowly down the road, backlit by the rising sun, tail swaying lazily. Part of me wanted to keep following—just one more look, one more minute. But that’s not how these things work. You take the gift for what it is, and you let it go.
He disappeared around the bend. Just like that—gone.
Mawelawela walks away from us down the road. It felt fitting to leave him to wander into the unknow,n disappearing as if he had never been there before!
Encounters with leopards like Mawelawela are never guaranteed. They’re earned through patience luck and respect for the animal’s space. Whether or not I see him again, the image of that big male staring straight through the glass and into my eye line will stay with me for a long time. Till I see you again – The Mawelawela male.
wonderful commentary and fantastic images. Thank you so much for sharing with us
Thanks Karen
Thanks Nic for this update. His behaviour pattern sounds so similar to Maxim’s when he arrived on Londolozi…..initially unrelated and very wary, blink and he would have vanished. Yet look at him now, mating right by the Land rovers! Now there’s no competition from Nweti, maybe you’ll see him more often.
Thanks Suzanne!
I meant unrelaxed, not unrelated!
Great storytelling, Nic! Along with those eyes/that stare, I was there! But, rightly or wrongly, now I associate him with the death of Ximungwe’s cub and those eyes can convince me that he could have done it. Too much anthropomorphizing-my bad!
Thanks Mary.
Hi Nic, your master storytelling made me feel goosebumps. He’s what a leopard should be: wary, scared, running away from human beings. The way leopards, especially females and their sagas, with their joy, serenity, despair… they were loved and followed by all readers and visitors. Precipitation, empathy. The Senegal Bush male was something alike, who would forget him? Run, Mawelawela, run. Hide, deep in the Bush, that is your kingdom. You, so sought-after by hunters, with your untamable beautiful head and slender but powerful, gold-rich coat. Too sought-after. And let yourself be seen by the right people, give them just a glimpse, a flashing light of your splendour. You, free creature in all your savage leopardity….
He is indeed!
Hi Nic, that was definitely a one time encounter with the Mawelawela male. He is a stunning male and is not often seen. The memory of him will stay with you for a long time.
He is indeed.
Another gorgeous leopard.
Thanks Anita
Wow Nic! What a fantastic sighting you had of the Mawelawela male – your images are outstanding! Luck and patience plays such a large part whilst driving in the less visited areas of the property, especially when it comes to elusive leopards.
Thanks Denise
Beautifully written, Nic! Could relate to that powerful and humbling locking of the gaze! Thank you!
Thank you.
How fortunate that you were able to spend so much time with him, Nic. It seems as if he is slowly becoming more habituated to the vehicles.
Fingers crossed!
I just love this leopard! Impressive and has a presence to him
Completely agree!
A wonderful description of a great encounter with such a fantastic animal as a male leopard, Nic. I am also always surprised how leopards and also other animals can just vanish into nowhere without leaving a trace to the normal eye.
This means that it is a special and often rare gift when they allow us to see and follow them.