The Best Leopard Spotter

The Wild4 Safari Vehicle

My sole criterion for picking the photo safari outfit I used in South Africa was the vehicle. I wanted to be able to do serious wildlife photography, and it was clear that the vehicle used by Wild4Photographic Safaris was designed by a serious photographer for other serious photographers.

The Nissan diesel pick-up was customized for safari like many others in South Africa. The standard bed was converted to three tiered benches with a canvas top.

What made it special was the additional customizing owner Stu Porter had done. First, the vehicle capacity is 10 passengers -- one in the front seat by the driver, then three on each bench. But Stu puts only one passenger on each bench -- three photographers total, so that each photographer can shoot out of either side of the vehicle. The two-thirds empty bench then has loads of storage space for the photographer's gear, and serious photographers do carry a lot of gear.

That was enough to persuade me to book my trip with Stu. Well, that and seeing Stu's own photos on his Web site. He knows photography, and I inferred that he would be sensitive to photographers' needs.

I was right. And then some.

Stu Porter

Stu, who bears a striking resemblance to movie actor Matt Damon, is a deceptively shy young man with an encyclopedic knowledge of Kruger National Park, its animals, geography, geology, climate, seasons, and, of course, rules. He also has the eyes of an eagle and is the best leopard spotter in South Africa.

I came to that conclusion at the end of a day in which a particular leopard had eluded nearly everyone looking for it all day. It was in the vicinity of a pride of lions that was taking turns eating and guarding a dead hippopotamus. The lions were easy to spot; they wanted to be seen by vultures, hyenas or other scavengers that might dare to steal any of the hippo carcass. We had eaten breakfast that morning while we watched a one-eyed lioness take her turn on the hippo.

Someone driving by advised us that "someone" had seen a leopard in the vicinity, with vague directions as to where the leopard might be. We spent some time looking in that area without luck, then moved on to see what other animals we could find. A return to the lion kill and rumored leopard in mid-afternoon also yielded no leopard.

But we went back one last time as the sun began bathing the bushveldt with its golden afternoon rays. Other leopard seekers had drifted away. There was only one other vehicle in the area when Stu, who had been scanning a wide area with a few big trees and slightly dense undergrowth, said quietly, "I see him."

He gave us directions. "See the small dead tree just beyond the rocks, then there's a big tree behind that, and some bushes to the left...no, not that dead tree, the one just past the rocks, at the edge of the grass...he's in that clump of bushes, just there." I followed as well as I could with my binoculars, and sure enough, there was a small patch of pale yellow with black spots in the midst of the bushes, about 80 meters away. Very small, very well hidden, a trademark skill of leopards. How Stu found it, I have no idea, for even when I was locked on, I think I would not have seen it without Stu finding it first.

Once we all had it, we waited, watching constantly. Finally, our patience was rewarded. The leopard stood up, revealing the 95 percent of him that had been hidden in the bushes, and walked calmly to the base of the tree, maybe 5 meters away. He stopped there, and Stu said, "He's going to climb it."

The leopard lands in the tree

By this time I had put down my binoculars and picked up my camera. I got focused in just as the leopard leaped on the far side of the tree and suddenly appeared in the crotch of the first limb, about 15 feet above the ground. There he paused, fur blazing in the light of the setting sun, looked around and then moved along the limb to a narrow horizontal space, where he lay down and watched us.

I took a few more photos, and when I took my eye away from the camera, I realized that he had placed himself against a dense tangle of leafless branches, and had I not already seen him through the long telephoto lens, I doubt I would have found him with the naked eye.

But Stu Porter, I am sure, would have.

FACTS OF LIFE

Entering the South African bush veldt, you immediately become aware of the abundance of life, and in almost the same instant, you feel the powerful presence of death.

Giraffes: The Oddest of the Odd

The life forms often seem to have sprung from the imagination of a crazed animator in George Lucas's studio: elephants, hippos, rhinoceros and, to me the oddest of all, giraffes. Or it is so abundant as to become almost unnoticeable: impala by the dozens along the road, like commuters in a subway station, staring dumbly at the passing trains, birds of all shapes, sizes, hues and purposes. Or it is hidden in the sparse foliage, watching and waiting: lions, leopards and cheetahs, magnificent life that ensures the perpetuation of death.

It is easy here to see the connectedness of all these forms and the many more that can hardly be seen (it is estimated that the mass of all the termites living in the ground in Kruger National Park exceeds the mass of all the other animals combined). Grass grows and thrives in this environment, and elephants ensure that trees and grass stay in proper balance.

Elephants prefer the bark and roots of trees, so they are the forest managers who convert woodlands to grasslands and then move on until trees come back a few decades later. Grass and leaves on the trees feed the impala, kudu, steenbok, waterbuck and other antelopes. Grass is the staple for rhinos, hippos and buffalo.

And all of those animals are the staple for the lions, leopards and cheetahs, as well as the hyenas, jackals and wild dogs that roam the bush veldt. When we say that something is the staple for something else, we mean, of course that something dies so something else can live.

These are the facts of life in the veldt.

Leopard: The Midnight Rambler

There are more than 150,000 impala in Kruger National Park. There are about 1,700 lions, 1,000 leopards and 120 cheetahs. Few, if any, of the impala will die of disease or starvation. All will be food for the big cats and other predators, with vultures, beetles, mongoose and other scavengers cleaning up the mess. Hyenas' powerful jaws will crush the remaining bones for the marrow. Nothing is wasted. All of it supports ongoing life.

Hyenas, by the way, get a bad rap as scavengers living off the hard work of the big cats. Hyenas actually hunt and kill 80 percent of what they eat.

The big cats are not immune to violent death. When a young male lion succeeds in overthrowing an older male to take over a pride, the first thing he does is kill his predecessor's offspring. Young leopards and cheetahs are vulnerable to attacks by hyenas and other cats.

Stu Porter, my guide in Kruger for 10 days, put it succinctly: for any animal here, including the big cats, to survive to adulthood is a miracle.

And, if the predation of other animals is not enough of a challenge, all these animals are subject to the whims of water. The bush veldt experiences a wet season and a dry season. If they are out of balance, water in the seasonal rivers doesn't flow, and the pans and dams dry out. 

We saw two different water scenarios in our 10 days in Kruger. In the south end, around Lower Sabie Camp, the rains had come early. Spring green carpeted the veldt. The Sabie River ("River of Fear," because of the crocodiles), flowed. Herds were scattered, and life was easy.

Zebras at the Waterhole

Just over 100 kilometers to the north, the dry winter lingered on. The grass was brown. Rivers were dry. Buffalo, wildebeest and zebras gathered in large herds around the diminishing water holes. Big cats watched for the weak and sick. Elephants and rhinos walked many dusty kilometers for a drink and a bath. Giraffes nibbled at what little green they could find sprouting on the tops of trees.

Eventually the rains will come, and the land will turn green, and the herds will scatter. The ones that don't last will sustain the ones that do. Survival is not victory. It is merely the postponement of one's inevitable ultimate contribution.

Those are the facts of life in the bush veldt.