22/03/2024
Yep Leopards can climb up pretty much anything...Herewith more details regarding the leopard attack in Mabua.
We were camping at Bosobogolo camp number 2 at the beginning of March 2024. The summer had started wet and promising for this arid landscape, but the rains had abated, the stark veld suffering the consequences of the harsh onslaught of 40° plus temperatures and searing winds.
Thankfully the temperature on our second day had abated so it was comparatively mild, topping in the mid 30s, with protective cloud, - a day for relaxing and reading.
A glorious spectacular sunset heralded another beautiful evening, the barking geckos, jackals and other night sounds wafted on the air.
After a little braai we packed up camp, securing all our equipment (we had heard lions in the distance the previous night).
Jill showered and got into the rooftop tent. I was just finishing showering when I noticed an animal in the murky edges of the circle of light. I yelled “Jill, a leopard”, but in the low light had doubts and thought it could perhaps be a cheetah….. big mistake!
I hurriedly secured our motion sensor lights around the Hilux and clambered up into the tent. We zipped up the gauze insect protective coverings and, feeling secure, lay in bed reading.
We were aware of the animal circling the vehicle by virtue of the motion sensor lights being triggered and at one point we were aware that the ‘cheetah’ had crawled under the bakkie, only its tail visible.
In the glimpses we caught, we could see the animal was completely emaciated and gaunt.
I started feeling uneasy - this was unusual activity, and thought “thank goodness we are in a rooftop tent”.
Eventually we dozed off into slumberland. It must’ve been around 10 pm.
At about 01:30 I je**ed awake having heard movement on the ladder. Sitting bolt upright, instantly wide awake, I peered down the ladder and saw the animal climbing up. I shouted ”he’s coming up the ladder”! Screaming and swearing was no deterrent as he scrambled up and launched himself onto the gauze of the tent, his claws gripping the thin fabric with his head inches from my face.
I started punching at it furiously in the face with all my might. I realized we were now bare fi**ed fighting for our lives. Both of us were shouting and screaming, Jill from behind me, hitting with a pillow at its paws, and then with her book. Every now and again the animal pulled its head back in a terrifying gesture as if to attack and bite through the gauze. At these moments I concentrated on punching his claws. I became aware that there was blood spattering in copious amounts, but just carried on punching and shouting, adrenaline coursing through my body in this fight for life. Terrifyingly during the whole attack there wasn’t a sound from the animal, just its jagged breathing as it concentrated on the assault. There was no flight option at this point. The terror is palatable as I write this. I must have punched at least 30 times, using all my energy.
Eventually the animal fell back and we realised we had a temporary “stay of ex*****on “!
My hand was bleeding profusely. Jill took off a pillow slip which we hurriedly wrapped around it to try and stem the flow of blood.
Panting and shaking from this terrifying experience which lasted at least a minute, we considered our options.
We had to get into the vehicle, but how?
While we pondered we heard what sounded like the animal jumping on the bonnet! It seemed like a horror movie! We would be fighting for our lives the night through!
When the animal reappeared at the foot of the ladder we sprayed it with water from a spray bottle we had with us…. this was not much of a deterrent but a mild distraction.
Jill came up with the suggestion of pulling the ladder in.
As I opened the gauze to do this, the animal reappeared attacking the bottom of the ladder as I swung it at him.
Eventually we got the ladder in with the tent zipped up - but What now?
We definitely had to get into the vehicle, only how?
I could either dash down the ladder and confront the beast using the ladder as a weapon, or stealthily creep down the ladder on the opposite side of the bakkie as the animal was now in the A frame hungrily plotting his next move.
The latter was a less grizzly option as long as the front left door was not locked (a lousy Toyota anomaly).
Before I over considered this scary option, I opened the tent on the opposite side, slipped down the ladder, my heart pounding in my chest, and into the vehicle which thank God was open.
Jill hauled the ladder in, shouting to ask if I was ok, but I couldn’t hear her, She was relieved when she saw the headlights illuminating as I slid into the drivers seat.
Shaking with shock, adrenaline and with the exertions of pounding at the beast’s face with all my might for a lengthy period, I thought at least now we have a chance as I started the Toyota.
Yelling to Jill to find out if she was ok, I reversed, blood dripping everywhere. I drove the vehicle towards it in an attempt to chase it, then drove slowly to camp number 2 about 3 kms away, all the while yelling to Jill if she was ok and telling her to shine backward down the road to make sure the animal wasn’t following us.
At the other campsite I nervously alighted and got Jill down from the RTT.
The pillow slip was by now soaked in blood. We gingerly pulled it open expecting to see a shredded hand, but to our surprise all that blood came from a single, pretty deep scratch at the base of my ring finger. Phew….relief!
Nurse Jill applied her skills, we washed my hand in a dettol solution, dried it and put on bandages and antiseptics … things were at last looking up.
All this time we were nervously keeping our eyes open as we suspected it may be coming after its injured prey.
We slowly drove back towards our camp. In the headlights, there it was….unmistakably a gaunt, highly compromised leopard. My skin crawled as realization set in that we had just, with our fists, driven off this killer animal!
We took some iPhone pictures before she ducked away and disappeared into the dark bush.
At the camp, sitting in the Hilux talking about the incident, we realized just how lucky we had been. We were suffering now from post traumatic stress so I quickly jumped out and retrieved a bottle of whisky which we sipped neat to calm our jangld nerves.
What a night! We realized once again we were lucky to be alive.
The following morning we packed up camp and drove to Mabua gate to report the incident. At the gate we met a French couple, both vets, who very kindly redressed my wound and gave advice regarding rabies and tetanus shots.
After consulting doctors we realized I needed an anti tetanus shot. We washed our bloodied sheets at the game scout camp and then set off to Lesholoago camp hoping it would be unoccupied - fortunately it was.
That evening DWNP game scouts arrived to check on us.
The next day we drove around the Pans hoping to find a doctor amongst the campers. Amazingly there was a group at Mphaya who had an anti tetnus shot - what a relief!
We reported the incident to the SANPARKS when we arrived at Nossob few days later..
This was such an unexpected, terrifying and horrific experience which is taking time to assimilate. However one must accept that visiting the wild is a highly risky activity. I have been going to Mabua for 43 years, almost every year and sometimes 2 or 3 times a year, so regard myself as reasonably experienced. I have always carried an axe and a divers knife into the tent with me, but the recent acquisition of a rooftop tent has made me feel safer so I have let this practise slip. Big mistake!
If we had straight away recognized the animal as a leopard, I would have been more alert and cautious.
A compromised animal is a far more dangerous risk as we all know.
I am glad we stayed on for five extra nights; it helped come to terms with the incident.
*photo en story credit - Gavin Allderman
