Out of the Shadows, a Mighty Hunter

I study two of the most elusive spotted cats—the leopard and the serval. I am fascinated with both. The solid-built silhouette of the leopard stalks through the shadows, muscles rippling with every step, exuding pure power. The elegant, light-framed serval is a long-legged, spotted beauty whose athleticism would make even an Olympic athlete green with envy. Both of these cats are just downright incredible.

However, the problem with studying elusive cats is that they are, well, elusive. I have never seen a serval before in the wild and have only witnessed leopards on a handful of lucky occasions. This is hard to believe, considering I am out in the bush nearly every day running camera trap surveys in both of these species’ territories.

So, my leopard sightings were all very special to me. Here’s the tale of one.

On a cloudless morning, already promising the heat that comes with working in the South African bush during summer, I left camp about 0530. The sky was beginning to lighten. On the very edge of the horizon, you could just make out the orange hues that promised a new day.

This particular site was on a popular reserve, and my days there often consisted of being stopped by passing tourists asking where the leopards were hiding. But at that hour, most of the reserve-goers hadn’t even left the comfort of their beds, let alone had their first sips of coffee. There were no other vehicles out on the roads. Only at the lodges were the game viewers beginning to stir—but not there, not yet.

Birds chirped from every direction. The chill morning air caused gooseflesh on my arms; not just because of the cool temperatures, but because of what those cool, quiet temperatures mean. This was the hour of the hunter.

Somewhere throughout the land, lions scoped out unsuspecting zebras. A serval pounced high in the air to land with pinpoint accuracy on a small mouse hiding in the thicket, before making its way to a secluded spot to sleep away the heat of the day. I am always a little cautious when walking around to check cameras during this crepuscular hour, but this is my favorite time of the day.

While driving my truck with all the windows down, the cool morning air blew on my skin. A cat stepped out of the bush and onto the road just in front of me. My mind immediately registered that it must have been a sleek lioness, since lion sightings are so common here and its body was massive.

However, I quickly realized that the spotted majesty in front of me, swaggering across the road with his tail slightly curled behind him, was not lion.

I stopped the truck as quickly as I could and frantically reached into the passenger seat next to me to grab my camera and uncap the lens before he disappeared back into the shadows.

Lucky for me, it wasn’t just a flash of a sighting. The impressive male leopard was in no hurry—and impressive, he was. He was around 5 years old and in absolute prime condition. His coat and ears were not yet scarred from old age and many years living in the bush defending his territory.

Eventually, he crossed the road and walked alongside me, weaving in and out of the tall grasses. At one point, he paused and looked through my lens directly at me.

When such a skilled predator looks directly at you like that, he looks straight through you and penetrates your soul.

But I, in my steel-wheeled chariot, was of no interest to this beast, and he casually continued on his way. He took advantage of the quiet road being the easiest way of travel and strolled down it behind me into the rising sun.

And just like that, the moment was over.

Lions? I can’t tell you how many times I have seen them, what they were doing, or where it was. But I remember each leopard sighting in detail.

For more information about leopards, the threats they face, and our work to conserve them, click here.