For the seasoned leopard hunter a familiarity with 2 different game plays, designed to connect with the elusive leopard, are the spanners in the hunting toolbox. Hanging baits to lure the secretive cats to a location, plus sweeping roads to assess tracks during post-midnight surveys are what the bulk of time is invested into.
An extensive network of block structured roads is invaluable for discovering such tracks and thereafter pursuing them by a sight and search process. However, most of the massive wilderness areas I operate in do not present this infrastructure luxury as the immense task of establishing, and maintaining this road network is counter to a positive income business model. Therefore, we must strategically use hanging baits to pull the big cats to a location that permits image capture of the time and date of their movement, thereby offering an opportunity to engage the magical olfactory senses of my hunting hounds.
The combination of scanning roads for fresh tracks, plus systematically visiting well positioned hanging baits, seasonally delivers ample success on connecting big game hunters with Africa’s rosetted cat. However there is a magical place, hidden deep in the coastal hardwood forests of East Africa, where neither of these standard methods have any tangible worth!
The Chinizuia forest in Mozambique is accessed by air charter originating from the Indian ocean port town of Beira. 60 minutes in the air will place the light aircraft over a wonderful hunting territory that extends from the Eastern boundary of Gorongoza National Park to the ocean. The Mupha river in the North separates Coutada 11 and Coutada 12 from our hunting block, however the non-perennial river is just a map demarcated boundary which does not inhibit any game flow, including the surplus Cape Buffalo which seek territory apart from the core 25 000 strong Zambezi Delta population. This unique environment, including it’s historic anthropologic influences, has moulded the base leopard ecology to something that systematically avoids presented baits, while high rainfall prohibits effective clearing of sand roads necessary to visually discover tracks which could reveal leopard movement.
But hunters are intrinsically creative and the motive for connecting with the big cat is substantial – the deep golden coat, plus locally elusive reputation, enhances this leopard’s prized status!
What we discovered through intense study is a fortitude by the territorial leopard to return to the riverine habitat during daylight hours. In the dense canopy created by tall native hardwoods, exists a superb environment which offers escape from biting tzetse flies and persistent humid heat. Additionally, the forest floor embraces a scope of small game including Duiker, Suni, Bushpig and Bushbuck drawn to this space by abundant food, shelter and water. The same benefits support a healthy population of Yellow Baboon which present ample, however challenging, meal opportunities for the forest leopard. Identifying this behaviour has allowed us to employ a hunting style not found anywhere else in Africa’s immensity, at least to my knowledge. And by employing this method, I was able to assist a passionate French hunter in accomplishing a lifelong dream of taking a valued African Leopard, at close quarters, in its most natural state.
Domingo is a true product of his forest environment, standing at around 5ft his ability to follow tracks in the dense undergrowth has impressed me since our first meeting 12 years ago. So it was no surprise that he was the tracker, 1 of 12, that returned from the mornings scouting with a carefully cut stick sized to the length of the front paw print made by a mature Tom leopard. Of course, I was expecting the discovery to emerge from the Sambanyama river, a seasonal producer of big cats, but this evidence submission was just a touch larger than typical. At that time the hunter in camp was a well-seasoned cat hunter from Texas and we were both equally thrilled at the thought of connecting with this magnificent leopard. We certainly invested our best effort in trying to both decipher his pattern and anticipate his future positioning to intersect a fresh track for the dogs to be entered into the rich forest.
But the hunting gods chose a different outcome for the enthusiastic Texan and in the early morning hours on day 10 of the safari we heard the rasping grunts of a big leopard emanating from the river line just East of camp. Our rapid response produced a fresh track, and the hounds steadily worked the enticing scent until the impressive Tom was jumped from his secluded day time bed and driven, by the persistence of my keen hounds, to a tactical location up a tall hardwood. We cautiously crept to within 50 yards of the treed quarry and the American placed a perfectly aimed 375 H&H 300 grain round to action a 1 shot kill.
Once the joy and adrenaline had subsided, we clearly noticed 2 digits missing from the front left paw of his trophy cat. The forest had relinquished a hardy survivor – this cat was a gin trap escapee wo had comfortably prospered without the use of 2 retractable claws. His condition was supreme, a testament to both the leopard’s impressive adaptive nature, but also to the abundance of available game animals that a well conserved region produces.
So when the next leopard hunter, a Frenchman, landed in camp, a subtle sense of confidence must have emanated from me, based on my knowledge that a familiar brute was still patrolling the generous section of riverine habitat that I had carefully canvassed just a month previously. This energy was shared with the dedicated tracking team that so well knew, that their task for the next 14 days would encompass scanning the dry riverbeds in long sections purposefully divided into 3-hour treks on foot. By staggering several 2-man teams into the long river course, we can systematically loop by vehicle to retract spoor discovery information, and thereby best position our hound crew to strike at a fresh track. It is tedious and time consuming, especially considering that the rising sun rapidly depletes the availability of scent, leaving us with a narrow window to make good in. This is the unique style we have developed. An effective skill merger of human sight proficiency and canine scent superiority. The well experienced trackers locate, then carefully follow the vivid spoor of the leopard to the point where he exits the river and is held by the dense forest. In our now ample experience, his daytime lay-up is generally not far off.
The very best human trackers can pursue, by sight, the tracks of a heavy buffalo bull through the piles of forest litter, however there are none than can consistently follow the sign of a striding leopard. However, many generations of selective breeding have developed a canine hunter that boasts almost unequalled ability to follow scent tracks. The hound is a cherished partner whose abilities can be honed to pursue a single quarry with rare exception, and where the visual tracks disappear, the scent tracks flourish. It is at this point that the baton is passed from human to canine, and they are released with full confidence their efforts will be successful, at the very least, intensely enjoyed by the whole hunting party.
And so, on a glorious October morning, the honed information network produced a cut to length stick matching the brute from a month previously. His steady course was reported to be in a Westerly direction, but he was not travelling solo. A mature female had enticed his company, clawing at his core purpose – reproduction. This is always a tricky scenario for us hound hunters as the dilemma to patiently wait out the engagement, vs potentially losing a hot track, must be balanced against possibly treeing an undesired female. Experience has taught me to make best of current opportunity, so we opted to give the hounds a fair run.
Fransisco and Mussa are some of the best companions to spend time with. Both comedic in expression and generous with humour, characteristics I have learned are excellent Africa survival skills. Visitors often comment on the ‘happy faces of these poor people’, as what must seem like a very depressing environment to Western eyes yet is so casually navigated by the impoverished locals. And it is a true statement that naivety facilitates acceptance but making the best of what little you have also enriches your psychology and attitude to daily life. So, despite living off the equal of US $100 per month, trackers like Frans and Mussa completely engross themselves in their task and derive substantial fulfillment from mastering their trade. Fittingly it was their discovery of the brute’s track, and rightfully their proud lead we were to follow from the nearest river access point named middle bridge.
Poles cut from immature hardwood trees are neatly placed in the dry river sand to ensure the considerable mass of a modern vehicle can repetitively traverse the crossing without getting stuck. This is the formation at middle bridge on which I parked my hound loaded truck, several hours after receiving the information from the trackers. The business of preparing for a long hike to the discovered track, plus the unknown adventure that could unfold, is not lost on the boxed hounds. The vibing sounds of rattling tracking collars, ammunition being loaded in magazines, water bottles being stuffed in back-packs only just overpowers the hushed voices of a highly charged hunting party, and the hounds excited barks must be tempered to maintain some sense of silence that seems necessary when planning to chase the prince of the forest. Only the paying hunter is naive to what will most likely become of the morning, as most of the present trackers have participated in this game play over 2 dozen times in the past 12 years. I share their optimism; in fact, I feel a sturdy foundation of confidence -My dogs know the deal, and while scenting conditions are not optimal, we have overcome just such obstacles so many times it seems an easy journey to the tree would be unfulfilling. Adversity is accepted, not avoided.
For close on 2 hours, we struggle through the soft sand motivated by the ever-present tracks of the big leopard clearly visible on the river course. Those 2 Westward bound hours aid in tapping off the energy edge from the hounds, priming them for focussed tracking when we hit the pre marked location. In fact, as we draw close to the spot where the cats slid into the rich forest undergrowth, Mussa gestures to me a familiar sign that it is time to restrain the hounds so I can complete the customary track assessment.
Drawing on their restrains, the hounds follow my movements intently, anticipating the body language ques that would indicate my approval to release them onto the trail. But it turns out not to be that simple. A complex maze of criss-cross tracks paints the picture of courting cats. To determine which side of the river the male has chosen as the temporary destination proves very difficult and between the several sets of experienced eyes we finally settle on the Southern bank. As a control measure, I send Baptiste further West around the horseshoe bend that forms the river section of our current location. Being Frasisco’s younger brother, I have full faith he will not miss the tracks if the cats decided to cross to the Northern bank further upstream.
By now we are working under artificial light, the numerous torches and LED lamps creating a pleasing visual spectacle against the tall timber and white sand. The shadowy shape of Baptiste’s outline comes into view as he rounds the river bend, and I direct my torch beam directly at him to receive visual comms as soon as possible. A flat wave of his hands means no tracks to the West, and with some confidence the cats have not looped ahead, I move towards my 4 lead dogs to free them of the restraints. They are desperate to full their nostrils with leopard scent and hurriedly search the Southern riverbank for olfactory sign of the passing cats. I expect a siren hound bawl at any moment, the loud indication of available scent, but silence reigns.
The first defined hound breed, The Saint Hubert hound, is believed to be the earliest known hound breeding system in recorded history. A monastery just South of the Belgian border in France’s Ardennes department, was the location where a scent tracking canine specialist originated, later populating most regions of Europe and then lending its genetic form as the source of all modern hounds. Apart from many key physical traits, defined by the first ever written breed standard, the Huberts hound established a unique characteristic – the vocal response to an olfactory stimulant. Somewhere between 750 AD and 900 AD the hunting monks selectively bred a canine that would ‘open’ on track, a highly beneficial audio que to follow by humans or other hounds. This trait remains fundamental in current breeding programs, a couple thousand years later. And it is this very sound that I expect to fill the night, paying some remote tribute to the many hunters and breeders that proceeded our very appreciated position in this historical chain.
So as the minutes pass without vocal conformation from the scent experts, I assess our options calculating all the factors current and passed. We can’t improve scent conditions no matter how or what we may try, and the cats have not deposited any indicators past the current point for visual discovery, leading me to the mental verdict that a temporarily retreat is best actioned immediately. I quickly communicate my plan to the trackers and simultaneously holler my hounds to return to my side. As my mind balances all the components, I lead the whole party, much to the French hunter’s confusion, further upstream. Travelling West will potentially place us ahead of the cats if they remain mobile in the observed direction of travel from the past 12 hours, possibly giving us another run in the early hours of the next morning.
Nothing but the sound of sandy footsteps and the now nocturnal forest are audible while the entire crew follow me closely until I gauge our distance from the last track to be sufficient. It’s close on midnight when I order a halt to the march, discovering an ideal bend in the river course for a warming fire and temporary sandy bed site. The Frenchman’s facial expression communicates a combination of emotions, I interpret his part excitement at the thought of sleeping under the wild African stars surrounded by an absolute darkness that hides the dangers of wild buffalo, hyena and lion, and part surprise that his leopard hunt can present such adventure. Fortunately, I do not detect any discomfort or anxiety, and he does not voice any concerns or complaints, but instead follows the example set by the trackers, settles close to the timber fuelled fire and surrenders to fatigue. With the hounds tightly leashed to small trees on the very edge of the forest, and my CZ 416 Rigby as close comfort, I too curl up and grab some welcomed sleep.
Winter temperatures in central Mozambique are like summer nights in the Northern hemisphere – the fire’s purpose is more comfort than necessity but by 5am its burnt down to coal and I wake on que to add some more fuel. The symphony of snoring should have been recorded for future comedy, but my focus is a little more serious. With the sunlight just piercing the darkness, I figure it’s time to resume our hunt and wake Mussa and Fransisco with a request to back track our travel and scout for any sign that the leopard’s returned to the river during the night. They shake off the sand clinging to their backs, wipe their eyes, and head off Easterly.
To my surprise they don’t make 100 meters before their attention is acutely fixed to something of significant interest at their feet. Mussa hurries back to inform me what his body language has already communicated. They found the track!
Turns out that while the unconscious hunting party was entertaining the night with snoring, the large male and his companion paced up the riverbed almost bumping right into the hounds and hunters. It was fascinating to interpret, through the sign, what had happened. The female was closer to the Southern bank, with the male walking proudly on a centre line, and as they rounded the bend our shapes, sounds or smells halted their cautious progress. Quite casually they did an about turn and retraced their travel route. Nothing in the tracks indicated any shock or alarm, the just returned East and avoided any human encounter.
Mussa and Frans picked up the spoor and headed East in pursuit of the cats while I returned to the group and disturbed their slumber. Baptiste hurried himself to catch up with the 2 trackers, my voice command trailing his departure – ‘carefully mark the spot where they enter the forest’
And that’s just what they did. A perfect river exit, up a narrow sandy tributary completely surrounded by unspoilt evergreen forest, pleases me when I reconnect with the waiting trackers. Any physical fatigue, loaded by the challenge of past 18 hours, has been erased by the tangible promise of success, while bright eyes and exited mumbles reveal the optimism is shared by all.
We guide the lead hounds to the starting line and the 4 veteran scent trackers get right to work. They slowly trail Southeast moving deeper into the leaf canopy covered undergrowth. It’s thick immediately ahead of us and I’m cautious to follow my trusted dogs, opting to interpret their bays from the starting point for now until their calls develop into the familiar rich full cry which indicates a strong scent line. The younger hounds, restrained at our feet by leashes, bay furiously as the desire to follow overwhelms them, every core genetic fully engaging the drive to chase. It is the same for us, but we hold silence in a strained attempt to hear the now distant cries of the advance hounds.
Experience now directs my decision, we enter the wall of greenery with a couple of machete swinging trackers chopping a path ahead of our trek. My Garmin unit presents a confidence building picture of 4 hounds moving at pace, now heading due East, parallel with the river course. Just as I command the group to pick up pace, we break through the forest into a sandy opening that once would have held a rain filled water source. The generous sand presents a visual picture of a large leopard spoor overlaid with the tracks of running hounds. All conformation is achieved, and we free the younger dogs of their restraint to enter the big cat race. Open cries boom into the distance as we renter the forest on the opposite side of the pan, vines and branches again stunting our ambitious advance.
I would only piece together the events that played out much later, when the intense focus to reach the dogs had dissipated, and my mind was free to interpret the GPS tracked path of each dog. Clay and Top had been the first to make contact with the big cat, and it is most likely that he exploded up a tree to analyse the very foreign sound makers that had been hot on his tail. No doubt he was unintimidated and chose to descend the safe height and engage the 2 canines head on. Apart from the dominant Lions, he is the apex in his environment and completely comfortable with enforcing that status. The later discovered bite wounds on Clay’s rump were clear evidence that the leopard had chased the dogs while the numbers were in his favour. However it could not have been more than 10 minutes before the rest of the eager pack had allied the leaders and created a group mass that convinced that cat a tactical retreat was favourable to risky attack. He treed and remained fixed while calculating options.
The various cries of a hound indicate certain stages of the hunt. Initially the long drawn-out bawls indicate the scent is present, but not in sufficient concentration for a chase. As the scent becomes more available, and the tracking speed increases, so do the hound barks, until they are in ‘Full Cry’ hot on the tail of their quarry. If the cat choses to ‘Bay-up’ on the ground, the furious baying of the hounds is unmistakable, as is the unique bark that indicates a ‘Treed’ leopard. And it was the latter which guided me to the wonderful scene of a majestic Tom leopard balancing low on the forked limb of a sturdy forest hardwood. His attention was clearly fixed on the hounds which were jostling for best position at the foot of the tree, trampling flat the undergrowth in their enthusiasm.
Unfortunately, the trailing hunting party now started to enter the scene with a little less caution than required, advertising our position to the cat, whom made a rapid departure from his perch, bounding off Easterly with hounds in tow. It was not long though until the customary treeing barks were rumbling from a position just a few hundred meters away. The next approach was more strategic, and I was able to present a dead rest for the Frenchman to take his much-earned prize. The elusive cat was uncomfortably positioned in the perfect fork of a tall Mahogany standing about 50 meters from our spot. His eyes looked anxious, threatening another attempt at escape. This scenario convincing me to instruct the hunter to shoot, foregoing the customary period of admiration and picture capture. It would not be the first time a leopard escaped the hounds if he were to bail, the combination of a scent saturated environment, fatigued hounds and sun warmed temperatures can play in favour for an evasive leopard.
The single shot was true to mark, hitting the big cat centre of chest as he faced directly at us. A 375 H&H bullet has the ideal ballistic characteristics for the soft skin cat and with is fine nervous system, the resulting shock and internal damage caused an immediate kill. He fell from the tree stone dead.
Looking around at my compatriots I noticed their emotions mirrored my own. This was the last hunt of a long challenging season, and the comforting mixture of relief and success was prime. The golden image of an elusive cat lay at the feet of my panting hounds, the hum of the forest returned to the main audio track, and the rich musky smell of a prime leopard filled the air – and in that moment, life couldn’t be any better.
