There is an extraordinary cat in this forest.
The ultimate predator.
A silent and often invisible k*ller.
Every leopard has unique markings,
but this one
has a small round spot to
the right of her nose,
between the two solid whisker lines.
This will always distinguish her from the others.
This is the story of Legadema,
a jewel of the forest,
who reflects in the shine of her eyes
all the experiences is of a life
running a gauntlet of death
from her very first day.
Her story through the
eye of the leopard.
This is her place,
these flooded marsh lands of a place called Mombo
in Botswana's Okavango delta.
It is Africa's garden of eden,
with fertile floodplains filled
with nutrients and greenery.
It is the very best leopard
territory you can imagine,
and this is where Legadema must
carve out a place for herself,
defend her space and disappear
in the mosaic of the swamp and bush.
There is another leopard here,
resting comfortably in the warm embrace
of an ancient baobab tree.
Leopards have climbed this same tree for over
But now, this leopard is queen here.
And this is Legadema's mother,
a strong willed leopardess that tolerates
no intruders in her piece of Africa.
None that is, but this male.
He asks no permission.
He's the dominant leopard from
the burnt ebony tree to the south,
a huge beast who prowls through her territory,
and those of six other females as well.
He is a scar-faced survivor,
hunter of at least 36 species in his range.
Few are immune from his...
...special talents.
Variety is the key to his success.
Specialist hunters die
when their prey dies out,
but leopards simply switch
to their next victim.
As a result, leopards stalk the forests from
the tip of Africa to the eastern edge of Asia,
from coasts to mountain tops.
The most prolific great cat on Earth.
It all started for this
cub with a unique spot,
three years ago to the day.
It was a passionate and expl*sive affair
with snarling exposed teeth
and fur flying.
When leopards mate, their intensity
shudders through the forest.
The couple shun food for a week
and mate almost continuously.
And then quite suddenly,
they part company for months, even years.
"Legadema" is the local setswana name for the
lightning that rolls in at that time of the year.
It means
"light from the sky or above".
from the burnt ebony tree...
...became a father.
Legadema was born.
She first emerged into the sunlight
at 8th days,
senses alive, bristling with interest.
Her eyes locked on something wonderful
and enticing straight away.
She ventured out... like an explorer.
From that day on,
the forest would be changed.
Every leopard needs to learn quickly
how to climb with confidence,
to master heights for hunting
and to escape danger.
It takes time.
And from the very beginning, a cub must draw
on that deep inner instinct as a predator,
to stalk, hunt and k*ll.
For the survivors, it is hardwired.
The first few days
will always determine their odds.
Legadema's first att*ck was a good start.
Her intense focus on the k*ll - important,
her inherited technique almost perfect,
but she lacked something vital.
She was still too innocent to understand
the obvious signs of danger.
Her mother knew them intimately.
They have att*cked before.
Twice, they k*lled her cubs.
Daily, they dog her every move,
waiting for yet another macabre free meal.
Each time she dropped her guard,
they had swooped down.
Now, even though she was vicious in her defense,
they'd been found.
The den revealed.
It would just be a matter of time
before they came back.
All her hopes were now invested in this latest cub.
A leopard's first instinct
is to hide and stay hidden.
Invisibility is their best w*apon
and best defense.
So when the news of their den rippled
through the forest that day,
the mother knew it was time to move on.
It would be the first of many moves
for the young Legadema.
Each time, the cub would go into a typical "cat freeze",
the instant her mothers jaws clamped gently around her neck.
It was her earliest instinct.
To feed them both,
her mother needed to hunt.
To hunt, she had to leave her cub vulnerable to the things
that lurk in the darkness and prey on the innocent.
Already little Legadema knew one voice in the
frightening cacophony of the dawn chorus,
her mother's secret message to her
that she was coming home.
But she heard other calls as well.
Nearby the den, there had been growls
and cries of agony in the night.
Some hapless leopard,
an interloper himself,
had been caught out in the open,
a fatal error in lion country.
Fate had saved Legadema.
The lions on a direct route to her den were distracted
by some more pressing adventure.
Each dawn was a desperate mission
to find her way back to her cub undetected.
For a cat that prefers to live like a ghost,
running a gauntlet of detection demands
almost m*llitary stealth and planning.
The local baboon troop
is the hardest to avoid.
Over the years, the troop has grown
from a few dozen to nearly a hundred members.
They know their local leopard
and always keep a wary eye scanning
the forest floor for any sign of her.
So each and every return
to the den is a victory.
Each time that Legadema
survived another night,
was a success that none of the other cubs
in 5 years ever achieved.
Mother and daughter lived one day at a time.
Impala antelope are the
staple leopard diet here.
They gather in herds of hundreds,
but just before the rains,
they separate quietly
to find private places of the forest...
to give birth.
This glorious fragility
is a celebration of all life,
and under the constant gaze of over
a hundred baboons standing guard,
few predators can sneak in undetected.
Impala rely on this added help
and stay close to baboons.
Suddenly, all the rules of the bush
were turned upside down!
Baboons are mostly vegetarian,
adding a few insects or possibly birds
when they can get them,
but when the alpha male charged in,
sinking his teeth into her tender flesh,
it was a reminder that
there are no absolute rules here.
She couldn't resist.
The smell of blood,
the cries of anguish.
She was programmed to respond.
She left her cub
to feed her curiosity.
But the k*ll put everyone on high alert.
She had a cub in a new den,
exposed in a forest running wild
with baboons on the rampage,
and a quick choice to make.
Return to defend her cub,
or run and hide.
Her return,
led them straight back to the den!
If lions are her enemies,
hyenas a constant irritation,
it is the baboons
that are her nemesis!
The fortress of branches
from the fallen tree held up,
despite the baboons
attempts to dismantle it.
They survived this att*ck,
but for the young impressionable cub,
the rules of engagement
had been established.
Baboons would be
her most fearsome thr*at.
A hasty retreat up a tree
wouldn't be effective,
baboons can go anywhere leopards can,
and they do.
It is w*r between them,
a battle that the marauding baboons
will take up in a heartbeat.
Each experience makes up who she is,
and arms her for the future.
For the time being,
Legadema and her mother could settle,
as the tension dissipated,
mother and cub alone together,
Legadema safe in the soft folds
of her mother's embrace.
But it was only a temporary respite.
Now that the baboons had found them,
they would visit this spot regularly,
just to make sure.
The second den was no longer safe.
It was time to move on again.
That was nearly three years ago.
And yet,
as Legadema looks out across the forest,
the distant bark of a baboon
still send shivers across her skin.
Somewhere across the forest,
her mother is ready to move.
Legadema is aware of every movement.
Something is wrong.
Leopards usually live
under a cloak of invisibility.
Her rasping calls at midday
are a betrayal of her usual disguise.
Even with so much distance between them,
Legadema recognizes the call,
a sound that from her birth signified
the protective safety of her mother.
Today it is still a magnet for her.
She must respond.
There is a certain...
conduct among leopards.
Approach carefully and discretely,
even if you are a friend...
...or you will be treated like an enemy.
So Legadema bides her time,
careful not to give herself
away to the forest,
but slowly heading north
towards the calls,
towards a meeting
that might change her life.
Legadema's delicate maneuvering towards
her mother is typical of a solitary cat's life.
She learned how to be alone
very early in life.
When she was three months old,
Legadema was already on her own
for days at a time.
It was a huge risk.
At that age, cubs are desperate to see the world,
and Legadema was no exception.
The slightest movement nearby of anything even
vaguely her fighting weight was fair game.
Some prey are not very accommodating.
Monitor lizards are quick and dangerous,
and her instincts told her to get around
behind the hissing dragon,
but when some thorns got behind her,
her confidence was destroyed.
As Legadema wandered off further and further
from where she had been left,
she went deeper into the unknown,
testing her boundaries,
but exposing herself to dangers
she could not even imagine.
Her mother had lost two cubs
like this before,
lost in an impossible maze
of fallen trees and thickets
or snatched up by some passing opportunist.
But this time alone, established the style
of life Legadema would have to lead.
She was learning to be independent.
The calls from her
mother have stopped,
but Legadema can "feel" her presence.
A distant monkey alarm pinpoints her,
the birds suddenly taking flight.
A sudden silence,
all clues that she doesn't miss.
She turns north to intercept her.
When she hears the alarm nearby,
she knows it can't be her mother.
The forest seems to
conspire against leopards,
and Legadema is as curious as any
to see what the problem is.
Monkeys litter the forest.
Because of the ideal
feeding conditions here,
each troop can virtually see
their neighbors most of the time.
Fights break out,
and Legadema leaves off going to meet
her mother to investigate the ruckus.
It's worth the distraction.
Monkeys have always held
a... special place in her heart.
Her intense interest in monkeys started when she
was just a few months old, watching her mother.
To catch a monkey is nearly impossible.
It is a mind game, a careful calculation of
how to get to the taunting little apes.
As a young impressionable cub,
Legadema watched every move
her mother made and learned.
What makes it such a challenge,
is that these agile little apes
flip lightly from tree to tree,
cleverly understanding that
the high branches can take their weight,
but cannot support a leopard.
Leopard know their limitations.
The cub's keen eyes and pliable mind had watched
every move in this three dimensional chess game.
With pawns that can leap from tree to tree
and a queen wrestling with her next move.
It was here, at this moment,
she had understood!
She was watching this queen
solve the puzzle.
The key to monkey hunting
is to control the high ground,
keep them beneath you and
out of the flimsy tree tops,
and to hunt... down!
From that moment on, she knew it too.
Command the high tree tops,
and you have your monkey.
Leopards have an uncanny ability
to visualize an ascent in an instant
and mentally plan each foothold
before they leap up a thorny tree trunk,
with a near vertical incline,
all while holding a dead-weight in their jaws.
Legadema's k*ll is a good one,
the monkey is alpha male.
It will throw the troop into disarray for weeks,
and make them vulnerable.
But even though her meal may last a day or two,
they will be even more alert now.
This knowledge of how to k*ll and how to survive,
handed down from mother to daughter,
is a legacy keeping their bloodline alive
from generation to generation.
Legadema is the only surviving cub
of this territory,
chosen by fate,
to continue that lineage forward.
On her father's side,
the Burnt Ebony male adds his own strong hunting
skills and quiet confidence to her genetic mix.
His bigger body weight allows for a wider range
of hunting than she can manage,
but his greatest skill is his ability to clinically
analyze the forest, with cold calculation.
The result is often surprising.
When the buffalo stream in from the swamp,
Burnt Ebony doesn't move away,
but chooses a parallel course.
For a leopard to hunt buffalo
would be extremely rare,
they're too larger,
much too risky to take on.
But he knows what he is doing.
In this part of the world,
the dust kicked up by a herd
is a flag, fluttering its signal
to every lion in the area.
Burnt Ebony doesn't care.
And he holds his course.
Usually leopards bolt
at the first sign of a lion,
but when he strolls on with little more
than a glance over his shoulder,
his confidence unnerves the lions.
Besides, for them the air is filled
with the scent of a more exciting prey.
His eyes miss nothing.
His ears scan for the faintest clue.
The stage is set.
Impossible prey, the area's largest predators,
and a chaotic k*lling field.
This is exactly what Burnt Ebony
has been waiting for.
But, he had better be aware.
The hallmark of a leopard
is his sharp mind and instincts,
cunning stealth and his cold calculation.
His signature is this death grip,
silencing his prey in an instant.
This way he can k*ll right under
the noses of the hunting lions,
and within a herd of buffalo,
without them even knowing he is there.
But most of all,
he sees confusion as an advantage.
The slightest smell of blood on the air
brings out the "piranhas of the bush".
But leopards can hoist twice their own
body weight vertically up a tree,
so the baby buffalo takes little effort.
But retreat is not an option
for this leopard.
He is always ready to turn and confront
and growl his warning displeasure.
It's sometimes hard for us to appreciate
that in this melee of strange looking animals
and incidental interactions,
many of these creatures actually
know one another intimately.
The hyenas can tell him apart
from other leopards.
Legadema has inherited some
of these traits from her father,
but the hyenas and lions here
don't treat her with the same respect.
It's a lesson she learned early on in life.
She was a six month old cub then.
Mother and daughter were spending
all their time together.
They were comfortable,
perhaps even enjoying each other,
as they spent hours playing
and hunting together.
Legadema was becoming more of a companion
to her mother than just a cub.
On this day she was being shown the boundaries
of the territory and everything was new for her.
It was her first wet season.
Butterflies and flowers
danced in front of her eyes,
luring her off into the forest,
further and further from her mother.
Distraction like this, can mean the
difference between life and death
in a place bristling with other predators.
Fortunately for leopards,
the lions here are too bulky to climb trees.
Suddenly, there were lions everywhere,
young energetic lions that
don't know their limitations.
They are always keen to drag
another cat down and rip it to pieces.
It is a dark competitive instinct
within them,
and that day they had a
real chance of succeeding.
But Legadema has an advantage
over them in tree climbing.
Unlike lions, leopards have a
locking wrist or ankle bone.
When lions climb, their ankles slide sideways
under their body weight.
Even turning around is difficult, and they often
end up in an undignified heap at the base of the tree.
Caught in a tree with lions
camped out between them,
Legadema's mother had
no way of knowing
if the growls and hisses in the distance
was Legadema in serious trouble, or not.
To survive, she should stay
in the tree tops.
But as a mother,
she needed to get to her cub.
Legadema's mother decided
to risk all to get to her cub.
Too much excitement for one day,
and the lions barely noticed her discreet exit.
Legadema's alert awareness
of the forest has saved her.
Together at last,
the crisis avoided,
mother and daughter
released the pent up tension
that staring danger
in the face always brings.
The two relieved cats
resumed their play,
even more connected by
their traumatic adventure,
flying through the trees
like high wire acrobats,
suspended in a world of their own,
way above the dangers that lions
and hyenas bring down below.
Lions or no lions,
this was there time to be together.
A time to share each other's elation
and each other's pain,
in a way that only mothers
and daughters can ever know.
Each day, Legadema was adding
small pieces of knowledge to her arsenal,
emotions that would
guide her through life.
Today, this young female with a
unique whisker spot is bush wise.
Those early games have taught her
how to slip up and down trees in a blur of
movement and to know her escape routes well.
In a place like Mombo, any leopard runs the risk
of walking into much larger animals.
The predator scent that surrounds her
brings out their aggression.
Almost everything chases a cat here,
especially a small one like Legadema.
A cat that can't find that hollowed out log to retreat to
in a moment's crisis, will be caught out and att*cked.
But this is her world.
It is her place of comfort,
in trees she has run up a hundred times,
or down paths led only by familiar scents.
Her beautifully patterned fur
is like her cloak of invisibility,
but one creature in the treetops
always sees through her disguise.
It is a constant irritation.
When her eyes stray to squirrels,
they know the trouble is coming their way.
From her earliest days,
Legadema's destiny would be intertwined with these
screeching alarmists high up in the forest.
Deep within her soul lurked a lethal k*ller,
but at two weeks old...
she couldn't quite get
the execution right.
The mind was willing,
but the legs were simply too short.
Within her though, the quiet seeds of a supreme
squirrel huntress were starting to grow.
They taunted her for months with a
continual stream of insults from above,
and she had had enough.
Their time had come!
She was focused and ready.
At three months old, she was agile enough,
no longer afraid of heights
and ready to take her small fight
to the battle field.
Squirrel hunting is a bit like
monkey hunting, but faster!
It's like unlocking a series
of puzzles all joined together,
a game of aerial hide and seek.
Every nerve in her body danced
with the anticipation of her first k*ll,
alive at that moment of death, hungry for
her initiation into the world of predators.
But at three months old,
Legadema was only nearly ready.
She had the heart of a hunter...
but not the balance yet.
She had the eye of a leopard,
but not the best appreciation of
her growing hip size behind her.
She'd have to wait a while longer
for that first k*ll.
The chase had inflamed her passion
for the hunt, and the squirrels.
Things were about to change.
Today, Legadema is the most deadly
squirrel hunter in the entire region.
For her, this was never merely
practice for larger prey.
Her fascination with squirrels has gone way beyond
the potential of a furry mouthful of bones.
It is a battle of wills
and she has become an expert.
These tiny african squirrels have been fleeing
for their lives ever since she was a cub.
They have almost become
an obsession for her.
She has figured out how to hunt them down and
spares no amount of energy to get to a squirrel.
Legadema relishes each morsel she catches.
In the past three years, she must have reduced
the local squirrel population by at least 300!
It is a passion for this leopard.
It is an intoxicating reward.
But with each k*ll,
her activity unveils her.
She hates being seen.
All leopards do.
When one animal sets off
a general alarm,
it ripples through the forest,
warning all of them.
And yet, it is a rare moment to glimpse a ghost
out in the open, before it disappears into the ether.
Some, like the impala here,
seem fascinated by the vision.
They sometimes follow, just to keep
an eye on her for as long as possible.
A leopard you can see,
is always better than one you can't.
Their snorting calls add another layer
to the complex network of information
that all animals rely on.
Legadema has found
a different signal,
a scents that,
once decoded,
she knows belongs to her mother.
She came this way recently.
But as Legadema inhales,
the message is disturbing.
She senses something new
within her mother, a change.
And a change she may not like.
It is piglet season again!
She'll interrupt anything for this.
Two years ago,
she was introduced to the delights of the pig season
for the first time, while watching her mother.
A leopard, her mother's size,
will stay well clear of the big sows.
They're aggressive and solidly built.
The deep holes in the sand are where
the real little treasures are buried.
It's not as easy as it looks.
If the mothers return,
the leopard is in a...
very vulnerable position!
Her mother was expert at
this kind of hunting.
The strange and unfamiliar meat needed
to be tasted to be appreciated.
But this harvesting of warthogs,
registered in her young mind as a very easy way
to get the most succulent meal in the bush.
And one by one,
they were gathered up that day.
Legadema would have to wait nearly three years
before she could try it for herself.
She is too eager.
The old sow is too quick.
Mistakes may be one way to learn,
but they are also a way to die.
The furtive dash, for the safety of a den,
is what she'd been waiting for.
Now she is back in the game.
In a realm she remembers,
hole hunting.
But with the big pigs around,
who knows for sure,
what exactly is down the hole?
Legadema now has a piglet
exactly where she wants it.
She knows it.
He knows it.
Now, it's just a matter of time.
And she adds her own variation
on the theme of hole hunting.
"In time, somebody's nerve will break."
It is her first warthog k*ll.
A real hunt,
not just the deep hole collecting that her
mother taught her, but a running att*ck.
The sows are back.
She swiftly uses that internal
road map to escape effectively.
And behind her,
she has left enough chaos to open a chance
for yet another opportunistic att*ck.
Technically, this is her piglet as well,
but Legadema has to simply watch the
injustice and be content with what she has.
Warthogs often mount brave
rescues of their young,
but the jackal's k*ll today
only attracts two young males.
Their interest may be
less heroic than sinister.
Warthogs do eat meat sometimes,
even injured or dead piglets!
Eventually, tension eases,
and the forest seems to relax again.
It's been another "first" for Legadema on her
journey from adolescent to adult leopardess.
More and more she is gaining
control of her surroundings,
perhaps even learning skills
beyond squirrel hunting.
And in a moment of elation,
she erupts into play,
the reaction of a young predator still suspended
in time somewhere between k*ller and cub.
That distinctive spot of hers has blood on it.
And as always,
she is being watched.
All it takes is a glance.
A perfect vertical ascent.
There are seldom private
moments for Legadema.
Hyenas follow her around all the time,
just in case an opportunity for a free meal arises.
The swirling pre-storm breeze, carrying the
scent of fresh blood, gave her away this time.
The violent tropical rains, so typical of this season,
will wash away the old scents and clear the air.
The renewed forest will be like
a fresh candidates for nature's art.
It will also wipe clean
any sign of her mother.
And Legadema will have to
start her search again.
If the rain persists,
her hunting will be more difficult.
If she can't hunt, she doesn't
have a family to hunt for her.
In bad weather,
there is no-one else to lean on,
no warm kin to shelter with
against the outside world.
For leopards, the stakes are always high.
But Legadema is not alone.
Another leopard!
Right in the heart of her territory.
She has moved in under the cover of rain.
Once again, Legadema transforms.
She bristles with indignation,
ready for battle.
This will be the fight of her life.
In her territory Legadema has
surprise and aggression on her side,
but she is small.
She must use every advantage against
the older cat she is about to take on.
She needs to make
herself appear larger.
The intruder's att*ck is confident and
clinical, much faster than expected.
Unfortunately, it is a case
of mistaken identity.
This is no intruder,
but the queen of all this land.
She has just challenged her own mother!
And has taken a b*ating as a result.
Her mother's rage is obvious,
even to the hyenas that are shadowing
the leopards more and more each day.
It is a rage born from
a daughter's insolence.
Legadema's error of judgment
can be blamed on the rain,
but this conflict has been
brewing for a long time.
Two females sharing a territory
is a formula for disaster.
They are now locked in a terrible
and terrifying relationship.
If Legadema is to be allowed
safe passage here at all,
she will have to be very careful
about these meetings in the future,
or the v*olence between them
will only escalate.
But how could the bond between
them have unraveled so badly?
It all started a year and a half ago.
Legadema was not yet two years old.
She was feeling more confident each day,
surviving quite well on squirrels
between meals that her mother provided.
But she was still totally dependent
on her mother.
Nearly two years after the traumatic
baboon att*ck on her den,
she was well aware of the dangers
of being seen by the troop.
She'd had to retreat just too often.
The distant calls of a baboons
still made her skin twitch,
an instant reaction to run and hide.
While the baboon troop was secure in its success
in scaring their local leopards into submission.
The brew of hormones and well
exercised instincts boiled inside her,
and forced her forward.
Although they told her to run,
something else urged her to go closer
and learn more about her adversaries.
The alpha male is always the biggest thr*at.
His forward-looking eyes
scan in three dimensions.
Apes have evolved stereoscopic vision,
to be able to accurately judge distance
and detail for leaping through the trees,
but this also makes them better at
combing the bushes with quick darting eyes.
They're intelligent enough to piece together an
image of a leopard from small bits of information.
The shape of an ear is enough for them to assemble
an image in their minds, and scream an alarm.
And bring the alpha male closer to his ambition,
to k*ll a leopard.
It was madness!
A wild and reckless risk.
But by some miracle of fate,
Legadema silenced the baboon before
the enormous troop could notice.
In that instant, Legadema,
the curious cub,
made one of
her many transformations.
She was suddenly a slayer
of her most feared enemy.
Quite suddenly,
this already momentous k*ll
took an amazing twist.
Something moved in the
dead baboon's fur.
A day old newborn.
It took a moment for
Legadema to notice.
She has always been curious.
But instead of a swift bite to the neck,
Legadema stopped...
then lay down with the baboon.
She didn't know how to react.
Hyenas would normally send her
scurrying for the trees, but this time,
she gently lifted the baby
to safety first.
Only then did she return
to confront the hyena.
It was an aggressive defense,
protecting the baby,
not defending her k*ll.
Legadema's eyes
never left the baby for hours,
and, strangely, this newborn
started following her everywhere,
reaching out to her,
most likely, imprinting on
his new surrogate mother.
Most likely imprinting on
his new surrogate mother.
And legadema seemed to
His new surrogate mother.
And legadema seemed to
be caught up in her own
And legadema seemed to
be caught up in her own
internal conflict.
Be caught up in her own
internal conflict.
A young leopard at a
Internal conflict.
A young leopard at a
confusing crossroads of life,
A young leopard at a
confusing crossroads of life,
torn between being a predator
Confusing crossroads of life,
torn between being a predator
and an inquisitive cub.
Perhaps, something more...
maternal and compassionate
started to grow within her
at that moment.
Finally, both settled down to sleep,
exhausted by the event,
cuddling for hours against the winter chill.
It was the cold that finally made
the baby baboon go quiet.
And legadema left the
body to feed on the mother.
But, for a moment, the night had
been filled with strangeness.
Africa is so good at
divulging little secrets,
just when we think that
we know it all so well.
There are many myths and legends
dancing around these ancient forests,
where the owls call your name and
the distant hippos speak to the gods.
Another layer of mystery was added,
the night the leopard
lay down with the baboon.
When her mother came back
from her own hunt,
Legadema had quite a surprise
waiting for her.
She could smell blood, and knew
that the baboons had been through.
Greetings between them then were always an
expl*si*n of playful rough and tumble,
but this time, when her mother darted up
the tree to the source of the blood,
Legadema's reaction was a shock to her.
It was a vicious att*ck.
Her mother's surprising retreat was
perhaps a recognition of that turning point
and Legadema's right
to defend her own k*ll.
If it had all ended there,
perhaps it would have been alright.
But they were back.
Combing the forest for their
lost companion and her new baby.
Despite her success,
Legadema knew she'd have to give ground.
The nightmarish att*cks by baboons
were still imprinted on her memory.
She had the confidence to defend
herself against her mother,
but not against the baboons.
She abandoned her k*ll.
Flipping back from the aggressive adult
behavior to the submissive cub signals,
was Legadema's only defense against
being cast away and left behind.
She could smell the impala on her mother
and knew that there was a
stash of fresh food ahead.
A mother's bond to her cub
is often elastic,
especially at this time, when she is tied
to the survival of her offspring,
but starting to feel the tug of
becoming a solitary cat again.
Although it had been Legadema herself
who had signaled this new era of their lives,
she seemed reluctant to leave
her mother's protection.
All that it now needed
was one final push.
The smell of blood again.
Leopards have a powerful ability to pinpoint the
source of a smell as delightful to them as fresh blood,
or meat, for this starting to turn.
Slipping back into her role
as cub to be provided for,
she didn't wait to be invited this time.
She didn't know that
the rules had changed.
That she had changed the rules.
The usual suspects were not far off,
driven to excitement
by the dripping blood,
just a leap away from
stealing an advantage.
Hyenas snapped at them,
and Legadema's decision to move
the k*ll seemed like a good one.
But it was nearly double her weight.
Uncooperative limbs snagging everywhere.
Claws clutched
desperately, frantically!
It was a mistake.
In leopard terms, maybe one
of the worst you can make,
when frustrated hyenas are just waiting for
that familiar thud of wet meat on the ground.
Even a pride of lions will think twice about mounting
a counter att*ck against frenzied hyenas,
but Legadema wasn't ready
to accept the defeat.
Perhaps she realized that it was her fault.
The low growls from her mother behind her,
may have spurred her on even more.
The lone hunter needs to cut its losses
sometimes, and stay fit for the next hunt.
Legadema hadn't quite grasped that yet.
Her mother, as always,
understood perfectly.
It was over.
But her stiff legged walk
showed her anger.
Her hisses rose to a constant growl,
like a growing storm.
Her exposed fangs were a clear signal
that this leopard had been pushed too far.
Now, her display focused on
the root of the problem,
her own confused cub,
Legadema.
She spat her fury at her daughter,
as if she was a lifelong enemy
and hated rival.
No longer a slayer of baboons,
or heroic defender against hyenas,
Legadema regressed to submissive displays,
in a desperate attempt to stop
the frenzied wrath of her mother.
It was an intense moment,
so defining a shift that,
from than on,
Legadema would no longer be
her mother's cub.
It was over.
They both knew it.
And that is how her childhood ended,
and that is how it is today.
As if sensing her vulnerability,
there is already an intruder.
She's been aware of him for months:
a slight pungent scent against a palm tree,
the easily followed trail
from scent glands in his paws,
the odd unaccounted four warthog k*ll,
left half finished in the fork of a tree.
Leopards have a way of molding into
the curves of a tree in total comfort.
This young male oozes confidence.
She's known he would be
coming closer sometime.
And now, he has caught up at last.
But his approach is not aggressive.
In fact, he takes his time to
limber up casually in her territory.
It is a display intended for her,
to convey his total confidence.
It's a mistake, of course.
His flaunting moves only attract the attention of
the local baboon troop and their meat-eating leader.
These baboons have had years
of practice harassing leopards.
This time the alpha male doesn't quite
get the reaction he is used to.
His acrobatic threats start
to attract the whole troop now.
The battle cry goes out:
"Leopard!"
Legadema has heard these blood chilling calls
before, but always on the receiving end.
She has never seen a leopard
react with such... disdain,
with so little fear of her old enemies.
And thanks to the years of intimidating
Legadema and her timid mother,
their confidence is still running high...
for now.
Even females and young try their hand
at flushing the leopard.
But they are met with an unflinching stare from
behind ready teeth and a balled up energy,
ready to strike.
This confidence rattles them.
Instead of driving home their att*ck,
they stop short.
Any leopard they know, would expect
to be mobbed and ripped to pieces.
But they can sense that
this one is a stranger here,
there is something unknown
and different about his...
...not too veiled threats.
As the baboons make a discrete withdrawal,
she makes a less discrete approach.
It's time to find out about
this large dark skinned male.
Her soft sneezing and coughing
is a gentle communication,
a tentative introduction and a test
to see if he is friend or foe.
He isn't her enemy.
But this young male carries a
deadly secret within his genes.
This is Burnt Ebony's son.
Her unknown half brother,
and this is their first meeting.
If she encourages him now,
it will change her life
and possibly alter the outcome of a long line
of female hierarchy that only she carries.
But something just isn't right
and she bolts.
Time is her best defense.
At Mombo, males wander 40 miles or more
across a dozen female territories.
The scale and space is in itself
a safeguard against incest.
Perhaps, by the time she
is ready for a mate,
he will be long gone
in search of conquests afar.
One last rite of passage
remains for Legadema.
No leopard has genuinely come of age
until they have k*lled an impala.
From the beginning, her mother
was an excellent huntress.
And a good teacher.
When Legadema was just 4 months old,
her mother was already passing on that legacy.
Even then, for this
step by step hunting education,
impala was the prey of choice.
It was a vitally important introduction.
She could learn a lot
from a dead animal,
relying on her play instincts
to pounce and att*ck,
but it was only with a live animal
that she was going to refine that
and see a real example of what it means
"to hunt."
She had a diligent tutor.
This would cement the foundations
of all her hunting skills.
And she tasted the slightly tangy fragrance
of fresh impala in her mouth for the first time.
The cub was still much too enthralled
with the newness of it all.
But something within her
was starting to reveal itself.
Legadema was beginning
to understand the chase,
even the catch.
She recognized that
something else was needed,
but her mother wasn't
helping her understand.
It was a confusing,
hard lesson to learn.
Those first moments of innocent
understanding are exquisite.
The beauty of innocence is in its total acceptance
of life and death in equal measure.
The cubs apparent harshness is no more than
the continuation of a process,
that has been going on since leopards
first evolved 3 and a half million years ago,
a process that builds predators.
Something triggered inside.
The chase and the catch
were merely prelude to "the k*ll."
Three years of practice
have deposited her here now,
watching a male impala,
her biggest challenge yet.
This will be her final test.
Coming of age ends here!
This is where she earns her birthright.
Eyes like honey,
but with lethal intent.
Teeth honed for the k*ll.
She is as supple as silk.
A magical coat of fur turns her invisible.
Soft pads cushion her movement
as she floats closer to her prey.
She is focused now,
a product of her instincts,
her experience and her intelligence.
She is ready, the genetic
pinnacle of millions of years.
She has done it!
She can survive now,
thrive anywhere,
a living ghost of the forest.
She is a leopardess at last.
Her mother again.
Haunting the forest with her calls.
It is not over.
Legadema has to approach.
Even though she knows it is dangerous,
she must confront her mother now.
She must either mend the rift or
fight her own mother for space.
If she's forced to leave, she will be cast adrift in
a sea of unfamiliarity to find her own territory.
But as the only cub of her mother,
her legacy is to stay.
Just beyond the ebony forest where she herself
was born, Legadema sees her mother.
It is a fitting arena for
this final confrontation.
Then her mother uses that
special call of hers again.
A disarming call for Legadema.
It's been a secret message between them
since she was 8 days old.
It makes her hesitate.
This isn't the aggression she anticipated.
And then, she knows.
This secret call is not hers anymore.
After all this time, two new cubs.
This changes everything.
The mother sees her one grown cub in
the distance, while nursing her new legacy.
There is no animosity in her eyes, just silent
acceptance of that cycle having been completed.
Legadema is no longer the inheritor.
There are others,
more important to her mother now.
Perhaps it's time for
Legadema to move away,
finally time to create her own legacy.
We admire them,
we fear them.
They are our wild side,
the hunter's spirit of our dreams.
We share an ancient past with these great cats,
that we are now so determined to extinguish.
And yet, like the reflection in those
amber eyes, our fates are linked.
If those eyes close on us forever,
the world will be a sadder
and less wondrous place.
Until we, too, suffer their fate.