Three of us were out in a motor car with one native boy looking for a lion for
Mr.---------, a visiting sportsman. The route led through some scattered timber with a few trees on each acre, some bushes and thick grass about three feet high. As we drove along, my companion driving with the other white man in the seat beside him, myself and the native in the rear in the bottom of the box-body car, we came through some trees. It was very early morning and an animal was suddenly sighted �beating it Hell bent for leather about 500 yards in front. Now we were not the kind of party that tried for an ear or eye shot at long distances. So we gave chase. Let me tell you it was some chase.

The driver was raised in a motor car on the African veldt and under normal circumstances drove like mad. So you can imagine how he went after this leopard that we nicknamed Simba � dodging trees, under limbs, and over hidden anthills. Into pig holes, against small bushes � myself and the other native were bouncing and being knocked about in the bottom of the car as if we were a pair of dice.
In no time we were doing 25 m.p.h. and for a time it looked like this, owing to the very bad going was going to be the limit. But the cat held its own on us veering gradually away to one side in hope of reaching some thicker cover. The driver dare not turn his head from the driving to follow the running cat. He merely stepped on the juice and steered to miss all the trees that were large enough to cause us grief. Meanwhile I kept up a steady course of �right� or �left� to mark the course of the animal. It is not considered by many as good sport to give chase to an animal in the car. But I would chase a leopard with a bolt of lightning if I could direct it and to Hell with the Molly Coddles! The trouble is in these days that there are a lot of people who haven�t the guts to do a lot of things and therefore they deter others from doing it. They try to limit everything to their own narrow capacities.

No matter. The progress made in the world was not accomplished by setting limits on anything. Well, after we chased that car about 300 yards, the opening in the trees grew wider and the old Hudson jumped up to about 35 m.p.h. � and that cat seemed to increase as well. But it could not hold the pace and after a few hundred yards it became winded and without a turn to right or left, or slowing down gradually, just stopped. It was right out in grass not two feet tall. The driver negotiated between the trees, got on a line about 15 feet to the right of the leopard and stopped the car at my direction. We were about 10 feet after passing the exact spot at which I saw the cat stop (as nearly as I was able to tell after that terrible ride).

The driver and the other man sprang from the car and were followed by the native. The driver carried my big .470. The other man, whose gun was not shooting too well, took my Winchester while the nigger took the 9.5 mm belonging to the other man. This left me sitting in the back of the car with no gun. First the two white men looked over the ground within a very few feet of where I insisted the leopard was hiding. Then, not seeing it, they walked farther to where taller grass grew, thinking the cat crawled into better cover. They were 100 yards away when the native who had very distinctly marked the leopard down (remember he was carrying the old Mauser) approached the spot where he insisted the animal stopped. As the native stopped and pointed the muzzle of the rifle in a �ready� position, he said, �Stopped right there.� And that is when the animal sprang. If that native could have shot from the hip, he would have saved himself a terrible mauling.

In one long leap the leopard landed on his head and took the entire head in its mouth. It cut terrible and bit as well, finally biting so low on the base of the skull that the native collapsed. When the cat sprang I yelled, attracting the attention of the two white men, then 100 yards away and over a rise in the ground with only their heads showing above the grass. Hearing me yell and the loud snarling of the leopard they turned to run back just as the boy collapsed. In the fall, the leopard saw the heads of the returning men and leaving the wounded boy darted to meet its new assailants halfway.

The two men were doing 100 yards in about 12 seconds, carrying their hunting togs and heavy guns. The driver with the .470 was about five paces in the lead when he dashed right into the face of that infuriated, unwounded cat, made desperate by the chase and the successful mauling of the nigger. The man was running, and he could run, and the cat was running because it could not fly. Each was headed toward the other for a swift meeting. When I say it was �the finest shot� I mean it was near to being marvelous and the result was no accident. It was the result of years of training and practice and coordination in a man who had a natural instinct with a rifle.

The leopard leaped from the ground in the cover of grass almost as high as the man�s head. The man ran as swiftly as it was in him to do, while carrying the old .470 across his front. The ends of the barrels were not two feet from the cat�s head. Then there was a roar from burned cordite and that leopard flattened out as dead as they get. One bullet through its shoulders going down from the top to the chest meant that its works were literally knocked out of the body.

I have taken and have seen thousands of dangerous animals shot at close quarters. And I�ve seen some of the finest rifle shots advertised in the world. But never have I seen an example of better rifle marksmanship than in the shooting of that leopard Follow this description and place yourself in that shooter�s position with that leopard running 100 yards in about seven seconds, leaping 20 feet like a streak of blue lightning. It was so fast that its spots were blurred. You could not see its speed. Then contemplate squeezing the trigger on a gun at your shoulder as you run through tall grass. If you can contemplate another method that is as good as with �Cottar� in it, I pass.

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saeed@ emirates.net.ae

www.accuratereloading.com

Some hair raising stuff from Mr. Cottar. Did he name the man who made the shot?

Don

I've got to buy that book!

Don,

He did not mention the name. I read this book a while back, and I think you gentlemen will find it very interesting to read.

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saeed@ emirates.net.ae

www.accuratereloading.com