How to Find a Leopard

 

Every morsel of food, every sip of water, the air we breathe is the result of work done by other species. Nature gives us everything we need to survive. Without them there is no us.

Enric SalaConservationist and National Geographic Explorer-in-Residence

You know how to find a leopard? asked Kupai, as we bumped down the track in the Toyota Land Cruiser. “Look for a tail hanging in a tree!” I replied triumphantly. Being on safari is like going on a treasure hunt. We never know what we will find, but we are confident we will find something awesome. 

It was two years before I spotted my first leopard. They are elusive cats and masters of invisibility. Nature didn’t give these athletic felines a spotted coat for beauty alone. Their dappled rosettes on a cream-coloured background are the perfect elements for a disappearing act.  

Can you see the leopard?

The second year I returned to Kenya I wore my leopard lingerie, aka leopard underpants, for good luck in the leopard search. After 3 days on safari, we still hadn’t seen a leopard. Ever hopeful, I got up the last morning for the final game drive before our flight back to Nairobi. A few yards outside the lodge gates we met a big male leopard standing smack in the middle of the road. He stared at me as if to say, “You keep on passing me on your game drives, so I thought I’d make it easy for you.” I like to think he also appreciated my designer underwear effort.

Since then, I’ve been blessed with many leopard sightings. Fig, a famous female leopard who lived on the Olare Motorogi Conservancy, adjacent to the Maasai Mara Game Reserve, was a regular in my stories. It helped that she seemed to enjoy the attention of a circle of eager photographers. My most memorable encounter with Fig was the day she chose to rest under our vehicle for a break from the sun. What do you do when there’s a leopard under your truck?  Stay still and be quiet!

Friends in a nearby Land Cruiser waved at us when it looked like Fig was ready to leave the shady cover of our truck. I stuck my head out and aimed my camera downwards.

With the shutter on fast speed, I pressed the button as soon her spotted head emerged. Fig and I locked eyes for an instant. She snarled at the camera then slunk away towards a treelined creek.

Sadly, Fig died a year ago age 13. She was ambushed by two lions. Lions and leopards do not get along. Although she is gone, Fig’s offspring Olare, Figlet, Furaha and her last cub Faulu live on.

My last sighting of Fig was early one evening at the end of an afternoon game drive. Like a model on a photo shoot, she climbed a dead tree and posed from her high throne until the sun went down.

We’ll be on the lookout for long tails with white tips dangling from a tree next January on my small group safari. Learn more from last week’s blog. Contact me for trip costs and travel details.

 About your guide: Kathy Karn is an international award-winning wildlife photographer and visual storyteller who fell in love with Africa on her first visit in 2010. She loves to introduce others to the wonders of Africa and the need for preservation of wildlife. Subscribe to Heartfelt Stories to learn more about what awaits you on safari.

In traveling to a truly foreign place, we inevitably travel to moods and states of mind and hidden inwards passages that we’d otherwise seldom have cause to visit.  Pico Iyer

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