Hiding in plain sight

After a quiet morning, we decided to have a coffee stop at Simbiri Dam - a picturesque spot nestled below sandstone cliffs, in the central area close to staff homes and the property’s headquarters. When we arrived all was still and the only movement came from a flock of helmeted guineafowl bustling about along the shoreline. Their soft clucking and sudden bursts of running were the only sounds in the warm, hushed air.

For a while, it seemed as though no other animals were around. But then, quite by chance, I glanced up toward the massive boulders overlooking the water. There, just for a second, I caught sight of what was unmistakably the curve of a leopard’s tail disappearing behind the rocks. My heart raced! Leopards are famously elusive - they are masters of camouflage and often rest during the heat of the day, hidden in trees or among rocks.

We sat perfectly still, hoping the leopard would reappear. Ten minutes felt like an hour, but the rocks remained silent and empty. We decided to move on. As I started the vehicle and drove around to the road in front of the dam wall, I glanced back, and caught my breath. There, framed in an archway of bushes were not one, but two young leopard cubs.

The tail I’d seen earlier must have belonged to one of these cubs or their mother – it was so fleeting and all I’d seen was the unmistakable curve and black and white markings at the tip. Eager yet cautious, we stopped and watched. The cubs were clearly curious. They peered at us with wide, unblinking eyes, their spotted coats blending beautifully with the dappled shadows. They had likely never seen people before, and had not had people see them, and their wide-eyed curiosity made the encounter even more special.

After a few moments, they turned and padded quietly, low to the ground, towards the bushes below a large strangler fig tree. I followed slowly, careful not to startle them. Peering through the branches, we could still see them: two young leopards peering at us with a mixture of caution and wonder. I managed to capture a few photographs of their inquisitive golden-eyed faces.

I now realized their mother wasn’t nearby, and we’d “caught them” spying on the scatter-brained guineafowl that must have been an irresistible attraction for the young cats. They’d probably been left tucked away in the thickets but had crept out to see the guineas. We discreetly left them in peace, but were buzzing with excitement!

Moments like this remind us why leopards are so very special - rarely seen, always unforgettable.

Since this initial sighting these two cubs and their mother have been seen a couple of times in the area, healthy and thriving - a comforting thought.

A few weeks later, Malilangwe Trust’s Executive Director, Mark Saunders, managed to get a photo of one of the cubs on the rocks near their home. (Photo right.)