From My Journal
| Firearms - Rifles/Guns |
|
Thursday, August 16, 2001 (LEOPARD—Selous, Tanzania) I slept in my hunting clothes so I could be ready for our 4:00 AM departure back to the leopard blind. (It is difficult and time-consuming trying to get my pants over the cast on my freshly broken leg and I didn’t want to be late.) To eliminate unnecessary noise and activity, Bob, my husband, Maria, our friend, and Webby, Bob’s PH, would stay in camp. I don’t think they really minded this idea at 4:00 AM.
After the hour’s long ride, the trackers and government game scout dropped my PH, Orlando, and me off at the leopard blind we had built out of grass and reeds the day before. With the vehicle motor running, we silently slipped into the blind (I silently hobbled). Then, as was the routine, they drove about a mile away to, hopefully, await a report from my rifle. As the sound of the Landcruiser’s motor faded in the distance, we could easily hear the leopard crunching the impala bones in the baited tree about 60 yards from our position. In the pitch darkness I couldn’t see a thing, but I was very happy. At least a leopard was finally there. (I had hunted/baited leopard for 14 days in the Okavango Delta on my last safari without any activity). As we waited for dawn and enough light to identify the leopard as a male, a pack of hyenas joined our vigil. They fought for the scraps of meat dropping to the ground from the leopard bait. Their hideous laugh sounding barks and screeches added to my excitement. I was in heaven!!! This is exactly where I wanted to be… a leopard in the tree, a blind surrounded by hyenas… it doesn’t get any better for me!! By the time it got light enough to shoot, the leopard had been feeding for over 2 hours. We could see the cat’s belly was gorged and bloated, but we still couldn’t identify it as a male since its hind quarters were concealed behind the tree’s trunk. The cat stood on the tree limb perfectly broadside for at least 10 minutes, (although it seemed like hours to me). The leopard was looking down from the tree and seemed to be considering the option of whether to jump out of the tree or not. The hyenas were still milling around fighting over the last scraps of bait directly under it. Boy, did I want to shoot! This was the perfect scenario, if only we could be certain it was a male. Orlando and I were glued to the 3-inch diameter peepholes woven into our blind. (I had Thelma, my .375, ready, aligned and braced so all I had to do was poke her muzzle forward through the hole. Orlando and I did not make any unnecessary sounds and we used only hand signals.) The leopard was obviously becoming impatient, waiting for the hyenas to leave. Then, as Murphy’s Law would have it, the leopard cunningly jumped out of the baited tree (which stood cleared of brush and debris) and silently landed in the narrow crotch of a tree in deep thickets. Now we saw it was a Tom. But my only view was a frontal shot of his chest and head. Orlando motioned to me that it was OK to shoot. I was so anxious and focused; I didn’t even give Orlando a chance to look out his peep hole before I shot. The dense scrub brush and thickets obstructed our view of where we hoped the leopard’s body would be lying beneath the tree. We heard the low, guttural growling which would be consistent with a good hit. Now everything was absolutely quiet. Orlando and I were all ears at this point, I don’t even think we were breathing. The trackers and the game scout drove up to the blind as soon as they heard my shot. Orlando told me to stay in the blind because of my broken leg. He and the crew drove the short distance and parked under the baited tree. Although I was glued to my peep hole, I could not see what happened after they all got out of the Landcruiser…but what I heard was horrifying!!!!! First there was the loudest, angriest, blood curdling animal shriek/roar I have ever heard in my life. The sound literally shook the forest. Then I heard people screaming, then I heard a shot, then I saw the guys run back to the Landcruiser and then they drove back to me in the blind. Orlando’s pants were blood soaked at his thigh and he was sitting in the high seat. One of the trackers was driving the Landcruiser and the guys lifted me into the cab. The conversation was all in Swahili (I kept my mouth shut until a long time after we got back to camp. I didn’t think it was a good time for me to ask questions.) During the hour long ride back to camp, I did not know what had happened. Once in camp, Webby performed first aid and TBGS’s office was contacted by radio to make arrangements to Med-Evac Orlando to Nairobi. Fortunately no major arteries were punctured, but Orlando’s thigh had long, deep lacerations on both the front and back. Orlando stayed in good spirits; he even wanted the camp cook to fix him a big breakfast for fear that when he got to the hospital he wouldn’t be fed for hours. He also reminded us that this was his birthday … and what a gift he got from the leopard. By now I could ask about what had happened. Orlando recounted, he and the crew approached the dense foliage where they expected to find the leopard. Orlando went first and had his rifle ready. When he had moved about three feet into the area, the leopard jumped onto one of the trackers behind him. He fired his rifle into the ground in hopes of scaring the leopard off the screaming man. After the gun shot, the leopard "locked eyes" onto Orlando. (This is something cats do and once they fix eyes on their target, they don’t care what else is in-between or nearby). Orlando could not chamber another round with his bolt action rifle before the leopard had its teeth and claws sunk well into his thigh. The only thing Orlando could do was to grab the leopard’s head with his hands and pull it off. The big cat ran back into the thickets and the guys ran back to the Landcruiser. Only Orlando had received any wounds. The old tracker, originally the target, didn’t have any physical marks, but he was shaken. He was drafted to accompany Orlando to Nairobi to help with transit care. Bob, Maria, and I stayed in camp while Webby and the crew drove Orlando to the bush airstrip about 45 minutes from camp. As the plane departed at 10:30 AM, Orlando’s words to Webby were; "Now it’s your turn". So Webby and the trackers headed directly to the blind. Once an animal is wounded, especially dangerous game like a leopard, it is mandatory to follow up. (Something I certainly wanted accomplished.) Since this was the plan, Webby had thoroughly questioned Orlando and me about our accounts, so he had all relevant information before he placed himself and crew in harms way. Apparently my shot had been slightly off center of the cat’s chest. It went through the brisket and exited through the ribs. (A lethal wound, but not expedient.) Webby and the guys stealthfully approached the thickets and one of the crew thought he heard the leopard. It is amazing to me that the leopard wasn’t a hundred miles away by now, but that is not their nature. Both Orlando and Webby predicted the big cat would be right there… waiting for his next meal or victim! When Webby paused to listen for any sound or to pick up any motion, the leopard suddenly leaped out of the brush directly onto him. He shot with no consequence and fell backwards onto the ground with his legs in the air. The leopard was now bent on taking him. Webby fended him off with the muzzle of his rifle (which now did not have a bullet in the chamber). As soon as the cat bit down on the hard muzzle surface he turned to run back into the thickets. At this time, the government game scout, who was a few feet away, fired a shot into the leopard’s butt and finally ended the frenzy.Meanwhile back in camp, I was feeling the depths of despair. I was responsible for Orlando’s wounds. (Although he had kindly reassured me that I was not. He and Webby both reminded me that they were professional hunters (PH’s) and this was their job.) But I knew if I had made a better shot, none of this would have happened. I really felt nauseous. What could happen next on this safari? My broken leg, Maria’s bloody nose, Bob’s eyes, and Orlando’s wounds were definitely bad omens! And it was only day three of a 21-day safari!!! (Our outfitter jokingly radioed us in camp, that they would keep a plane on standby to Med-Evac injured people out of our camp!) After six days Orlando (on crutches) re-joined our safari and successfully guided me (with my broken leg and also on crutches) to an excellent lion. My shooting was perfect… from a tree blind!!! © October 2004
|


