I've told the story of connecting with Big Toe the Cape Buffalo, so now I’d like to share the story of the leopard hunt. My PH took a video of it, which is the sole posting on my YouTube channel, “Tom’s” (yeah, I didn’t spend too much time coming up with a clever name). Here’s the link:
I’ll give you some background and narration: We’d been hunting for almost a week - driving all day, collecting baboons for bait, checking old sites for activity, setting up new ones, and building and sitting in blinds. There were a couple of nights when it seemed like a leopard might have been coming in, but something would put him off, and we hadn’t yet seen one in person.
The bait tree in the video is on the bank of a dry riverbed. Well, mostly dry – there was some water still flowing from the really heavy rains there earlier in the season. The first time we got to this site our tracker, Maxwell, became very animated. “Here! Leopard will be here!” He was excited like I’d not seen him before. There were leopard tracks around (also lion), but we’d seen lots of leopard sign at the other sites, including photos on trail cams, and he hadn't reacted like this. Our PH, Leo, didn’t want to use the tree branch overhanging the path of the vehicle, but Maxwell was insistent. “Must be here! Yes. I promise, leopard here”, and he would stab his finger towards the ground and smile at us, eyes wide with anticipation. Leo was the boss, though, and they set up the bait site about 75 yards upstream from this tree.
We came back the next morning to find that army ants had taken possession of the baited tree, and Leo decided to abandon it. Maxwell again advocated for the tree at the river crossing, so Leo decided to give it a shot and that’s where the bait was hung. The day after that we returned early to find the bait had been hit, and Leo showed me pictures of the big old cat that the trail cam had taken all through the night . He skipped to the last one and pointed out that the time stamp on it was less than 20 minutes ago! We might have just scared him off, but he definitely wanted to stay at this site. We crossed the riverbed and Leo organized the trackers in establishing a blind, 140 yards directly across from the bait site, then we left to finish our morning rounds.
We came back about 4:00 that afternoon to sit and wait. It gets dark at 6:00, so that would give us time to get situated and let everything settle down. After eight days of this I was feeling a bit worn - tired, hot, dusty, and not particularly looking forward to another butt-numbing sit in a blind. I had absolute faith in Leo and no doubt it was just a matter of time until success, but I was starting to fade.
It was after 5:30, and the sun was creeping away when Leo’s motion detector gave a buzz. We both sat right up to investigate; he was glassing with his binos, and I was leaning into my scope. After several minutes of no movement Leo suggested that it might have been some bats out in the early evening that set off the motion detector. I went back to trying to get comfortable in the camp chair.
After another five minutes or so Leo calmly says, “Your leopard’s in the tree.” At first I thought he was just trying to bring me to attention with some encouraging joke, but immediately I realized that Leo hadn’t ever, not one time, joked about hunting, and I jolted into position on my rifle. It was set up on sandbags, on a frame of bamboo, rock steady and aimed at the bait. I didn’t see anything at first, so I started scanning towards the tree trunk. Then I saw what looked exactly like a leopard standing on the branch.
Now, all of us who’ve spent a lot of time in a stand know that there comes a point where you start seeing your quarry just standing there in the brush, but it’s a trick of light and shadow and wishful thinking, and no matter how hard you stare it just never comes to life. I thought that might have been happening to me, seeing a leopard in the dusk, just a trick of light and shadow that I wanted to be real. I'd never seen such a thing in real life, after all, so how could I be sure it wasn't a phantasm? It was too dark for Leo to take video, except through this infrared device Bluetooth connected to his phone, but there was still good shooting light, enough for me to make out the fantasy cat through my scope, a Leupold 3-9x40 dialed up to give the best combination of magnification and field of view.
This is where the video picks up. As you can see, the leopard is just standing there broadside, big as life, Prince of the forest. Leo is talking me through the shot, but I’m thinking I’m hallucinating, and I don’t know what to say. Finally, at the 00:15 mark, I mumble “He’s not moving”, just to let Leo know that I’m a little lost in my head. Leo agrees it’s not moving, starts talking me into the shot again, and I ask for confirmation (00:26) that it’s “facing up the tree”. By now Leo must think I’ve gone completely bonkers. Then the leopard turns and looks in our direction (00:29), which breaks the spell I’m under and I realize this is really, really happening. One more time I ask for confirmation that we’re both seeing the same thing (00:44), and after that I was completely focused on the shot – I tuned out Leo’s voice, got control of my breathing and heart rate, picked out the very spot I wanted my bullet to hit, and made a clean trigger break.
I lost sight of the leopard with the recoil, but then I see the tree branch is empty and I think somehow I missed which gives me an immediate sense of panic. Leo says, “He’s down” (01:00), which I confirm, and it's such a relief to find him in the scope again. I just know he’s dead, and I’m feeling absolutely stunned, immobile with fascination, until Leo tells me to reload. Then it hits me… I just completed a leopard hunt! I actually got a leopard! I manage a “Holy shit” to celebrate the moment (01:18), then make my confession to Leo (01:50). It was fully dark by the time we left the blind, recalled the truck, and made our way back over the riverbed. Walking up to that magnificent cat was an adrenaline high like no other.
Maxwell never really said "I told you so", and I don't know how on earth he did it, but, man... he called it! Much respect, Maxwell.
