The Leopard is Feeding

In 2000, while on a classic safari in Zambia, I took with me a kid, named Stuart McLean, as my videographer.  Stuart was so committed to me that I’m afraid I risked his life too often.   Jim “Doc” Kilgo was also with me.  Jim had dreamed of Africa and couldn’t turn the opportunity down.  And now, I was hunting a leopard with my bow for a few nights of restless anxiety.

To hunt dangerous game with a bow requires incredible resolve, as you usually only get one or two good opportunities for a shot where the animal is in a good position for the shot and unaware. In this case, we were hunting out of the skinning shed, that was actually a grass hut where the dead game animal’s hides and skulls were kept to dry out and be salted before being transported for shipping. It was located about 100 yards from our camp.

The trackers told us that they had seen a large male leopard feeding on a zebra carcass that we were saving for bait that was lying about 20 yards from the skinning shed.  The trackers were participating in their nightly ritual of eating around a fire they built to cook some meat and mealie meal, a mixture that resembles grits when they heard the crunching of bones on the other side of the shed.

This is a primitive environment where man and beast coexist until one either kills and eats the other or one gets annoyed with the other’s existence and kills for pleasure. Unfortunately, that is what happened to a local woman who accidently crossed paths with an elephant who chased her down and stomped her into a soupy mush in the road.  I saw the blood spot about the size of a car hood as we drove through the area on our arrival.

Most liberal, “can’t we just get along” animal documentaries won’t truthfully represent the real conflict between man and beast, as I believe they could care less about the people in the bush. Every night lions are on the prowl for the easiest meal available and for it to come by bicycle, as some fellow rides in the moonlight to the next village for a rendezvous with his girlfriend. That’s what we discovered happened one morning when we found the bicycle along a trail.

That is as good as it gets for the lion.

Quit screaming!

Hippo’s run into the fishermen as they are on their return trip to the river from grazing on the fresh green grass shoots after a recent fire.  The fisherman is no threat to the hippo but he presents a fun chase for the hippo and he screams.

Crocodiles also love fishermen, as they will lay close to the bank of the river slightly submerged and watch for an animal of any species, small enough for them to drown, to come to the water’s edge. When the fisherman’s shadow comes over the water, the croc lunges up and grabs his leg, drags him out to deeper water and slowly submerges himself with his victim until the bubbles stop and then begins to consume the guy one limb at a time. Not exactly National Geographic stuff but while you read this, it is happening to some poor soul like Karim’s dad.

Now, where were we?

Oh, we’re hunting a leopard at night with a bow. How unfair!

We built a small blind and attached it to the doorway entering the skinning shed. We put two openings in the wall of the blind, one for the video camera and the other for me to shoot through. We put three mattresses in the skinning shed to lay on as we waited on the sound of the crunch of bones, as the cat fed on the carcass we staked directly in front of the blind 20 yards away.

There was only a couple of issues with the skinning shed.  It produced such a putrid odor that it would cause most people, other than the trackers, to experience a gag reflex for a moment or two, at least until the odor seemed to dissipate to a slightly sour smell.  And on top of that, the shed at times was full of mosquitoes.

We were set up for the hunt and I was getting nervous hoping that I would perform as I had trained to do for months. I needed to shoot some at night at my leopard target to get in the right frame of mind. So, that night, I hung the 3D target in a tree in the camp and had my Professional Hunter (PH) Harry stand behind me.  Harry was to turn on the light as I stood at full draw and the moment the light illuminated the ribs of the cat target, I shot and shot and shot until I was anxious no more.

I’m ready!

We were eating supper in the open-air dining hut, and as I took a sip of wine, a tracker walks up to Harry and says, “Chui is feeding.” I instantly got a lump in my throat as I thought it would be a day or two before it was time but the time is now. Harry looked at me and said, “Get ready, it’s time to hunt your leopard.” I told Stuart to get the camera ready and I went to my hut to get my bow and gear.

Doc, unfortunately would have to stay behind with Karim as there just wasn’t room for four in the shed. We walked out of the back of the camp where the woven grass wall around the rear of the camp was only a few feet tall.  We soon were walking in grass 8 to 10 feet tall along the trail the trackers used to get from their camp to ours. The skinning shed was actually in the trackers’ camp, and more than one predator visited every night.

It was a buffet station for cats as we would soon find out.

When we arrived, we saw several men huddled around a fire roasting meat, and cooking mealie meal in a pot.  They pointed without speaking up toward the zebra carcass, and we quietly climbed the hill to the shed.  We set the camera up in silence in front of its hole in the blind and Stuart tested it for alignment on the bait.

I set my bow against the wall of the hut so I could find it in the dark as there was little to no moon and therefore no light other than the fire about 20 yards behind us.  Harry’s flashlight was held low toward the inside of the skinning shed so that we could get inside and lay on the mattresses while waiting on one of the most desired trophies of Africa.

It’s interesting that most cats are nocturnal unless put in a situation that they must either kill, feed or sit quietly in a tree in an open area.  A big tom had done just that earlier that week because he had the audacity to feed on one of our lion baits and a big male lion snuck up to him and chased him up a tree.  The lion decided to wait at the bottom of the tree for the leopard to climb down and take his chances with 400 pounds of pure rage, because in the natural world, big cats eat little cats.

We drove up on the lion and when he stood up and began to move away from the tree, the leopard jumped over our truck and hit the ground running in the opposite direction.  A pretty awesome sight to be sure.

Back to the story…I fell asleep for a while and began to snore because Harry punched me in the side to wake up.  As I began to fall asleep again, I heard the crunching of bones outside and saw Harry’s shadow step out and quickly return saying that a hyena was feeding. An hour or so later he woke me up saying, “He’s here.”

We slowly followed each other out and got in our positions in total darkness. Stuart turned on the camera and nodded at me to go ahead.  I drew my bow and pointed it out my hole in the blind and Harry hit the light. The big cat was facing directly away and was a chip shot, but things went south when Harry yelled in my ear, “SHOOT!!!”  I punched the release and the arrow flew over the big cat’s back.

I was pissed!

I asked him, “What are you doing? Just hold the light and shut up!” He said, “I think you hit him.” I said, “Hell no, I didn’t hit him, I shot over him, he would have gone berserk if I hit him.” He said, “I have to look for blood.” And sure enough, he found a bloody smudge in a paw print and he thought that it was possible for the cat to swat at the arrow, which was total crap.

He radioed for the truck and here came the game scout, Kalunga, assigned to us to make sure we followed the hunting rules for that concession.  Doc and a few trackers came then too.

While a few of us tried to follow the track, I told Stuart and Doc to look for my arrow. We followed the paw prints for a couple hundred yards and Harry was finally satisfied that the animal wasn’t mortally injured. Stuart had found the arrow and there was not any sign of hair or blood on the arrow.  If any blood shows up at all, your hunt is over with the exception of killing the exact same animal.

I was absolutely pissed off and went to bed that way.

The next morning, I told Harry that he better not screw up a hunt like that again, as I was still holding a lot of his money, and he had lied to me when he told me at the Safari Club Convention 18 months earlier that he felt totally comfortable with a bowhunter.  That was bullshit.

He had been mauled by a wounded lion a year earlier, and had lost his edge and was afraid of these animals which put us at risk several times during this safari. He should not have taken the safari but his income was more important to him than our safety. You don’t figure this stuff out until you are in the game.

We checked lion baits that day and tried to stalk a few animals, but I could not get the previous night off my mind. I knew that we would be headed back to the skinning shed until we killed a cat, as now my hunt for a leopard was reduced to the shed looking for a leopard with a bloody foot. How bizarre.

But, as we ate dinner in silence that night, here came the tracker and he said,” He’s back.”

We settled into the skinning shed the same as the night before and repeatedly rose to the sound of crunching bones and every time we got the camera running, bow drawn, and light on, the cats would jump out of the light.  It happened several times with several different cats, but no one would stand still enough for me to take a good shot. A good shot to me is an arrow that lets all the air out of its recipient, and it is left breathless in its first leap and dead a moment later.

I had shot over 7000 practice arrows prior to this hunt in several different scenarios.  I was beyond competent. I had, for the challenge of it, shot the dominant male baboon of a 200-baboon troop at 38 yards out of a tree through the elbows. Harry walked up to him in the high grass telling me how dangerous a wounded baboon can be and I told him that this baboon quit being dangerous when I turned the arrow loose.  The sucker was dead before he fell. And sure enough he was piled up under the limb he was sitting on without moving from where he hit the ground. I’m not being arrogant nor prideful, I’m just telling you that I was prepared and was determined to get my part done, and wasn’t in the mood to suffer a fool.

We got back to camp shortly before first light without taking a shot, so we slept a while, then headed out to check lion baits again. Sleep deprivation is a part of hunting when you set big goals so I was prepared to do without.

We got back to camp and repeated the evening with one exception and a beyond belief conclusion. We were back in the shed and about midnight the crunching began and we took our positions.  Stuart turned the camera on, I drew my bow and Harry hit the light.

There he was, broad side and unaware.  I turned the arrow loose and watched it pass through his ribs right at the shoulder. He leaped 7 or 8 feet in the air and ran. I knew I had him and was elated.

Then the impossible happened.

As Harry said,” there he is lying on the ground facing us at 30 yards.” I said, “That’s not the same leopard, mine is dead within 100 yards!” Harry tells the tracker, “Hand me my rifle, I have to finish him.” I said, “Harry, don’t shoot that leopard, that’s not the one I shot, it’s a different leopard.”

Harry’s rifle roars and he radios for the truck and here comes Kalunga and the trackers. Captain Courageous climbs in the truck and drives up to the dead leopard, looks at the corpse and sees that there is no arrow wound anywhere. The leopard has a crushed paw from fighting, the same one I shot over the first night.

I start looking for blood and find a massive blood trail heading into the bush and I start to follow with the light. Harry stops me and asks, “What are you doing?” I said, “I’m going to get my leopard, you can keep yours!”  And this is when the begging starts. Harry said, “Please don’t go after the other leopard! The game scout is here and if he finds out we shot two cats, I will lose my PH license for Zambia. Please take this leopard.” I was angry beyond my ability to comprehend my predicament and I said, “Let’s go for now, but I want to see my leopard and get a picture of him.”  Harry said nothing.

When we got to camp the entire staff was dancing, and put me in a chair raising me above their heads, singing for the slaying of a predator, as he was no longer a threat. I wondered how long they would have partied had they known we had killed two cats!

I got up at first light the next morning, grabbed my rifle and headed for the skinning shed. As I was leaving the main gate, I saw Harry approaching from the direction of the shed. He stopped me and told me that he found the other leopard just outside our gate and that he appreciated it if I would not go to see it as someone may see me and he would be busted. The leopard died about 50 yards from our main gate and halfway to the trackers camp where I shot him. I was disgusted, but needed Harry to hunt the buffalo and lion. I didn’t want to get him in trouble no matter how mad I was.  He was a necessity to finish the safari, and that was my priority. I hope he reads this!

THOUGHTS FROM THE HUNTER KIND

Anxiety and frustration ran rampant through the spirits of Harry and me. He was afraid that I would either get him injured, killed or fired as a Professional Hunter (PH) and I was afraid that he would do stupid stuff like shooting a leopard that was obviously uninjured.  He could have ruined my safari that I had paid a ridiculous amount of money for to hunt dangerous game legitimately with a bow. As a Christ follower, I had some very difficult challenges as I prayed for peace, wisdom and the true flight of an arrow, but I can’t honestly say that I prayed for Harry. I don’t remember doing it, and in hindsight, I missed the mark.

How odd is it that “sin” is an archery term for missing the mark? There is only one man in the history of men that walked on earth facing trials that I could not imagine, yet He never missed the mark. Jesus, at times, was surrounded by people begging for His help. People determined to diminish His ministry, and eventually people gleefully awaiting His torture and murder, yet He never missed the mark.

He embraced every moment and remained as He remains now, the sinless Son of God and my Peace-giver.

“Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.” James 1:12

Prayer of the Hunter Kind:

Lord, let me see the trials that others are facing instead of how those trials are causing them to behave. So often I miss the real issues and struggles of others because all I see is how they respond to them. Guide me in how I pray for them and take me to a deeper compassion for their circumstances. Amen

P.S. You will read language in what I write that you may find offensive, so have grace as I have a limited vocabulary, and I’m a redneck.