Leopard tales from the past:
The leopard that got away
By Jayantha Jayawardene
[Part 3]
Continued from last week
Below are two translations from two reports of how a leopard kills
its prey. These were reports made by a Game Guard and a Game watcher and
appeared in the Wildlife Warden's Report of 1954.
"I was on my way to Yala one evening and, near Wilapalawewa, I
noticed a leopard lying beneath a tree. I took cover and watched. The
leopard was lying on its belly with its forelegs stretched forward and
its gaze was fixed on a herd of spotted deer which was grazing about 100
yards away. It kept tossing its tail about but its head and body were
motionless. The unsuspecting deer were nibbling the grass and moving
slowly forward towards the leopard...
As they approached closer and closer the leopard gradually brought
its forelegs back closer to its body and kept its head low down, but the
occasional twitching of the tail continued.
When the deer were within 20 yards the leopard became very tense and
I knew that the charge was imminent. Suddenly, it shot forward like a
streak and in a flash had seized a spotted doe.

A leopard in Wilpattu Pic: Indika Edirisinghe |
It attacked the doe from in front and, threw its paws round the doe's
neck, seized the doe by the throat with its jaws and clung on.
The rest of the herd ran some yards and then stopped and stood
looking on, barking and stamping. The doomed doe stood its ground for
some minutes while the leopard hung on and got its fangs deeper into its
victim's throat.
Doe
Then the doe collapsed and fell sideways. The leopard did not relax
its hold but pressed the doe, which was kicking and making frantic
efforts to rise, to the ground. Soon the doe lay still.
The leopard then released its hold, moved off a few yards, sat on its
haunches and looked at its fallen victim. Two or three times it sprang
back on the doe and bit its neck, and again moved away and watched.
Then the leopard seized the carcass of the doe by its neck, and
dragged it, the carcass being parallel to the leopards body, towards the
tank. The herd of deer, which all the time remained 30 or 40 yards away,
followed the leopard at a distance, still giving the shrill alarm call"
- W.L.A. Andris, Game Guard, Yala Range.
"At about 7 o' clock in the morning, at the height of the drought, I
saw a leopard about 150 yards away walking across the bed of the
Maradanmaduwa tank. I followed cautiously, got under a tree and sat down
to watch. The leopard by then had climbed up a Dan tree and lay down on
branch about 10 feet above the ground. The Dan tree was in full fruit
and every day deer and pigs used to come under it to eat the fallen
berries.
The leopard lay perfectly still on the branch of the tree, only
turning its head to look all around. After about half an hour a small
herd of nine spotted deer came across the dry bed of the tank, stopping
to nibble every now and again, towards the Dan tree. The leopard became
absolutely still. The deer reached the tree and began to feed on the
fallen fruit.
One of the does came right under the branch on which the leopard was
lying. I saw no movement of the leopard which was absolutely still and
tense. Suddenly it sprang on the back of the doe beneath it.
The doe called out loudly but the leopard kept its hold and bit at
the doe's throat, with each bite getting a firmer grip on its throat. At
the doe's cries the rest of the herd stampeded for a short distance and
then stood and barked violently and stamped the ground with their
forefeet.
Claw
The seized doe then fell to the ground. The leopard continued to bite
the fallen doe's throat and to claw its body, the leopard's tail
twitching and tossing from side to side all the time. The doe soon lay
still and the leopard got off its kill, moved away two or three yards
and sat on its haunches, panting and watching its kill. It sat thus for
about two minutes and then got up and walked twice round the dead doe.
Then it urinated and scattered the earth with its hind feet and came
back to the carcase. It seized the carcase by the neck, and walking
backwards, dragged the carcase about 20 yards into scrub jungle and
disappeared from view" - A. Malhamy, Game Watcher, Wilpattu Range.
Referring to the manner in which a leopard kills its prey, Baker
(1855) says that "The blow from the paw is nevertheless immensely
powerful, and at one stroke will rip open a bullock like a knife; but
the after effects of the wound are still more to be dreaded than the
force of the stroke. There is a peculiar poison in the claw, which is
highly dangerous.
"This is caused by the putrid flesh which they are constantly
tearing, and which is apt to cause gangrene by inoculation".
Rex La Brooy, writing in the Loris (Volume VII No 5) states: "It is
indeed rarely that a man can come into head-on collision with an angry
leopard and survive sufficiently long to narrate his experiences.
Such has been my fortune, and, as I write this now, I can see those
bared snarling teeth, the small ears flattened against the head, the
tiny beady eyes just before mine, and in my nostrils is the smell, that
awful nauseating smell of putrefying flesh coming from the leopard's
mouth, so overpowering that even after I was carried away from the spot
the stench remained around me.
I have no desire to repeat that experience. But let me begin at the
beginning. Four of us, Ray de Costa, Malcolm Felsianes and Hugo
Bilsborough and I decided that a "safari" in the jungles of South-East
Ceylon was indicated. The July drought was at its most intense, when we
left Colombo well-armed, as we thought, with still and cine cameras.
"The next day found us travelling through parched plains over which
the 'Kachan' blew raising dust storms that not only made us
uncomfortable but reduced visibility to only a few yards.
Dusk was setting in as we drove on. In the distance, something
crossed the road. It looked like a large boar or a leopard. We drove on
and stopped at the spot where the unidentified animal had entered the
jungle. There was nothing on either side of the road except park-land
with one large bush about ten yards away from the road, and a few small
dried almost leafless bushes here and there.
Branch
After a few minutes spent in discussing what the animal could have
been, I stepped out of the car and walked up to the bush, and round it,
looking carefully at every dried leaf and branch. As I walked round, I
heard a rustling within the bush.
Immediately I tensed and peered cautiously beyond the outer branches
into the bush itself. It was virtually impossible to see a leopard
hiding inside a bush. Nature's camouflage is perfect. All I saw was the
bush.
The next thing I saw was the bush come to life. Then a blur and for
an instant a hazy image of an angry cat, teeth bared, ears flat against
its head, pugs extended.
Years of conditioning and years spent in the jungle, have given me
quick reflexes, and with an animal-like instinct I swerved away from the
charging mass of feline lightening. But my movements were slow when
compared to what flew out of that bush with the velocity of a bullet.
As the blackness engulfed me I heard the deep-throated growl that
rose to a crescendo and died away.
As I went down, my last instinctive movement saved my life. The
impact of the animal hitting my right shoulder swung me round and I
dropped to the ground as the leopard, carried by the momentum of its
charge, went over me, to bound away into the jungle a few yards away
from the bush. The growls of the angry beast could still be heard as my
companions, armed with only a stick rushed out of the car to where I
lay. While Hugo stood by with a pathetic apology for a club, Ray and
Malcolm picked me up and carried me over to the car.
At the provincial hospital, which they reached in a matter of minutes
breaking all records for speed on those roads, I woke up with a sharp
pain in my shoulder. On my forehead was a bump, bigger than a golf ball
where the leopard's head had struck me. Under my blood-soaked shirt, on
my arm and shoulder were no less than nine claw and teeth marks.
The next morning we went back to the scene of our escapade. This time
we had a better weapon than a camera.
We had a starting handle of a car! We wanted something more than
pictures. We wanted measurements and a motive as to why the leopard
behaved in the way he did. Had we disturbed him at a meal? Was he a
man-eater?
We found no "kill" in the vicinity. No human had been killed by a
leopard in this area recently and there was no man-eater roaming the
wild. The pug marks indicated that the animal was a full grown male.
The experts of the area, whom we consulted later gave three reasons
for my good fortune in escaping. First, my instinctive turn-round which
carried me in a direction away from that of the charging leopard.
Second, the head-on-collision with the leopard, a rare experience
indeed, saved me, for I was knocked out like a light. Had I stirred
after my fall, the animal would have come for me again and with fatal
consequences.
And finally, the prompt action of my companions in rushing out of the
car must surely have scared away the already bewildered animal.
But why did the animal come out of the bush to attack me, when I had
no knowledge that it was there? All I could see was the bush. If it
wasn't hungry and if it wasn't disturbed from a kill and if it wasn't a
man-eater then why did it charge?
Perhaps the peculiar behaviour of the leopard in these circumstances
could be attributed to the drought. I still wonder why. Perhaps the
leopard roaming somewhere around in those jungles today, is wondering
why!"
To be continued |