Dates: June 13 to June 29, 2008
Location: Omalanga Safaris, Omburo Camp near Omaruru, Namibia http://www.namibianhunter.de or at http://www.omalangasafaris.net
PH: Dirk Rohrmann
Firearm and Ammunition: CZ 550 American, .375 H&H Magnum, 260 grain Nosler Partition handloads.
Hunting Method: Spot and stalk on plains game, bait and blind for leopard.
Animals Observed: Gemsbok, Kudu, Leopard, Cheetah, Plains Zebra, Hartmann’s Mountain Zebra, Giraffe, Red Hartebeest, Impala, Black-backed Jackal, Springbok, Steenbok, Common Duiker, Cape Hare, Warthog, Bat-eared Fox, African Wildcat, Pangolin, Ostrich, Helmeted Guinea Fowl, Laughing Dove, Cape Turtle Dove, Sand Grouse, Savanna monitor lizard, python.
Game Hunted and Taken: Leopard, Gemsbok, Kudu, Zebra.
Travel Arrangements: kathi@wildtravel.net


My wife and I had hunted with Dirk and Rita Rohrmann at Okanduka Seibe near Okahandja in 2006 - and when we began discussing a return trip to Namibia, it was an easy decision to book with them again. That they were in a new location and a new situation was a bonus - we didn’t want to repeat our experiences, but wanted the reassurance that hunting with familiar, compatible folks brings. One less thing to worry about.

I was intrigued by the thought of leopard hunting after our last trip. I had seen the tracks. I had seen the baiting and preparation. And I had seen a mature cow kudu that had been freshly killed by a leopard. I was mesmerized by the deep punctures in the kudu’s neck from the big cat’s canine teeth - and the familiar way the cat had begun to feast on the inner thigh - just like bobcat kills I had examined. I had never seen a leopard in the wild, but I was drawn to the beautiful, lightning fast, tremendously strong, graceful animals and made up my mind to hunt one as soon as my timetable and finances allowed.

My wife, who put on a pretty convincing act to anyone who would listen about being afraid she would be eaten by cannibals, went with me in 2006 - and fell in love with Africa. Unfortunately, not enough that she would consider permanent relocation to there - but enough that any future trips I take WILL be accompanied. She loved the remoteness, she loved being a pampered guest, she loved the zoo without fences - and she loved that I loved it.

We booked for 10 days, then extended it to 14. Before we knew it we had arranged to be in Namibia for 16 days. Not that I had an extensive wish list (I only hunted leopard, kudu, gemsbok, and zebra), but because we wanted to enjoy our time without feeling rushed. I knew that leopard hunting was a game of patience and luck, but I figured my luck would improve the longer I dedicated to spending in the blind.

My wife had put in her order for a zebra skin rug as soon as we returned from our last trip. I was, shall we say, less than enthusiastic about shooting a zebra, but if that’s what it took to get her on board for a return trip - then I would be her slayer of striped donkeys. I wouldn’t begin to cast aspersions about someone else’s enthusiasm towards zebra hunting - it just doesn’t float my boat.

I had taken kudu and gemsbok before. I didn’t have a burning desire to bag a Rowland Ward specimen of either. I just like hunting them. And with a couple of weeks to look over a few, I felt like I could be reasonably assured that a good stalk, a memorable shot, and a respectable head would come my way. If only I could be patient...

We traveled from Dallas/Ft. Worth to Frankfurt on Lufthansa Airlines, then to Windhoek aboard Air Namibia. We elected to travel with Lufthansa because they have a baggage agreement with Air Namibia - something to consider unless you are really into S&M. We were traveling with 2 SCI blue bags (totaling about 75 lbs), a suitcase, and a gun case - so not having to retrieve luggage, babysit it in Frankfurt, then check it in for the final leg into Namibia was well worth the additional ($200) cost.

We overnighted at the Palmquell Hotel in Klein Windhoek. Rita had recommended it and it was a really nice place. Surrounded by foreign embassies and owned by the former Austrian Ambassador, security, amenities, and location were very good. I’m not big on recommending places, but this is worth a second look to anybody overnighting in Windhoek.




After 2 years of experimentation and tweaking, I went to Namibia completely confident in my rifle and ammunition. Dirk is a big fan of big bullets - especially for dangerous game - and had recommended a .375 for leopard. I topped mine with a 3 X 10 Nikon Monarch scope with a 50 mm objective lens (in Warne QD rings) to gather light at dusk. I also brought a 3 X 9 Burris scope in Talley QD rings as a back up. I planned to use 260 grain handloaded Nosler Accubonds for the leopard, and 260 grain handloaded Nosler Partitions for everything else. The Accubonds had consistently printed .8" groups at 100 yards before the trip, and the Partitions only slightly larger.

Unfortunately, all my careful preparations went out the window as gremlins crept into my gun case during the flight to Africa. My first shot from the benchrest was about 3" right, and the following shots went from bad to worse. I shot low. I shot high. I shot left and right - and before I hollered “calf rope†I had blasted my way through half my Accubond ammunition and the target looked like a 000 buckshot pattern at 10 yards. A 5" group would not do for leopards.

Not knowing what was at fault (certainly not the shooter!) I checked the mounts, the scope, the bullets and the rifle for clues. Dirk and I pow wowed about the situation and we decided that the first thing to try was a different scope. I swapped out the Nikon for the backup Burris. I elected to try the Nosler Partition bullets instead of the previously proven Accubonds since my supply had been significantly depleted.

With Dirk watching intently, and the pressure to perform increased exponentially, I fired the first shot. The round struck 3/4" low and 3/4" right. OK - now to see if it is the gun or the shooter. I chambered a second 260 grain missile and prepared to launch.

The trigger broke cleanly - and wonder of wonders - a ragged .375" hole appeared nearly touching the first! My spectator/coach/evaluator seemed relieved. Two shots next to one another doesn’t ordinarily evoke a celebration or feelings of relief - but the weight of the world lifted off my previously sagging shoulders!

I haven’t had time to do further testing since I got home, so I haven’t done anything with the scope yet. To say that I was disappointed in the Nikon is putting it mildly.


Dirk had begun baiting leopards for a couple of other hunters weeks before I arrived. When the other hunter’s priorities changed and they elected not to continue to pursue a leopard, I was the beneficiary of all the pre-baiting. The site had been active for the better part of a month when I got there - and, thanks to the technology of trail cameras, the cats had posed for pictures more times than Paris Hilton over those weeks. Review of the photos revealed a male and female at the same time, a lone male, and even a brown hyena.



Of course, as soon as the soles of my boots hit Namibia, the cat (or cats) decided having their food delivered every day or so was boring. They took a break. After hitting the bait for 30 days, including the previous 5 in a row, they went to another restaurant...

A second bait site was no better - only baboon tracks were to be found in the sandy dirt under that tree.

The routine was, well - routine. We got up in the morning and pretended to hunt kudu on the way to check leopard baits - then repeated the drill in the afternoon. Everything revolved around leopard hunting - and until the cat was in the salt, hunting for other game was considered ancillary.

After 3 days, the leopard baits were still untouched - resulting in palpable frustration from the PH. The lack of activity at the bait sites and the abundant tracks on almost every roadway was a puzzle, an enigma, a problem with no apparent solution. A very determined Dirk began in earnest seeking a young kudu or gemsbok to bait a new site.



According to the PH, a young gemsbuck would be best - enough meat to tempt the hungry carnivore, but not so much in excess that a mature animal would provide. As we rolled slowly down the dirt path, 3 sets of eyes scanned every dark and light spot for a likely candidate. A kudu would suffice, but Dirk insisted that gemsbok would satisfy the discriminating palate of a hungry cat better. Personally, I had my doubts, as I had smelled the rotting carcass of the previous bait long before it came into sight - leading me to think that the spotted cat would just as soon devour putrid kudu as fly blown gemsbok - but what do I know?

Mature gemsbok after burly adult oryx lined the edge of the grassland, but nary a youngster could be found. We rounded a corner and topped a rise and there, drinking at a waterhole, were a kudu cow and 2 calves. “Shoot that animal,†hissed Dirk, as the leopard entrees stood like statues staring at the truck full of humans. I chambered a cartridge from the magazine and selected the calf quartering to the right. The crosshairs settled on the point of the shoulder as I tried to come up with an explanation for my wife for shooting a calf. Oh well. I squeezed the trigger of the .375 H&H Magnum, and off somewhere in the distance I heard a muffled boom as I felt a slight push against my shoulder like I had been struck by a nerf ball. The animal stumbled as all 3 kudu wheeled to leave. I racked another live one into the chamber and began to re-acquire the moving target. Just at the decision point, the deer-sized animal went down.

We drove right to the kudu, and quickly hoisted the young bull, nubs of horns just protruding through the hairline, into the bed of the vehicle. The deed was done, bait acquired.

Lacking tools and supplies necessary to position the bait, we returned to the lodge. I coached Dirk en route on what to tell (and more importantly, what not to tell) my wife. “Tell her I downed a magnificent baitbok,†I offered.

Dirk countered with, “It was stuck in a fence and when we went to get it out, it turned its head around to look at us and its neck broke.†I could tell he showed great promise in the art of exaggeration - even though he’d never been to Texas!

As it was, my longsuffering wife never even cast a disapproving look my way - knowing that to make an omelette, you have to break some eggs. I’m a lucky man.

Once at the lodge, Joseph gutted the young bull and assembled wire, saw, hatchet and other supplies for the project ahead. A 5-gallon bucket full of offal rode behind the passenger seat, perfume to lure the wily feline to the kill.

The bait tree we had selected was only 15' from the dirt path where the cat had left paw prints the previous evening. A nearly horizontal branch would serve as the perch and an abandoned concrete hut was conveniently located a chip shot away. Windows faced the target area and a bench inside hinted that the structure had seen more than one rifle or camera.

Joseph lopped off a limb that was poorly located, and we hoisted the eviscerated carcass up onto a limb measuring about 10" in diameter. The branch was almost horizontal and was high enough from the ground to preclude hyenas from appropriating our leopard hors d'oeuvres. The legs of the kudu were wired together with heavy gauge wire strung through and around the front and back running gear.



Once the bait was in place, we spent the better part of an hour dragging the menudo and chittlins au naturel behind the Rover on the dirt roads leading to the bait. All part of the glamorous job of Professional Hunter...

Shortly after sunrise the next morning we checked the new bait. Tracks showed that the finicky feline had walked by it without deviating so much as an inch from his path. Perhaps the cool night had kept the kudu from “aging†enough for his discriminating palette. Even though the footprints in the sand aren’t as unique as fingerprints, Dirk seemed sure it was the same cat that had been previously feeding at the other bait site. As if to validate the theory, spoor led down the road to the vicinity of the more active site.

We dismounted at the water hole and walked into the original bait tree. The bait was demolished! Three wires around the limb held nothing but air as the big cat must have had a helluva party. About 12 pounds of ribs had been converted to cat crap overnight.

The trail camera showed proof positive that the leopard had returned from his walkabout and was hungry. Eight photos, taken from 4:30 pm until 6:30 in the morning documented his comings and goings.

Bait gone, Dirk decided we would cut the kudu in half and re-distribute the meat among the 2 bait sites. Of course, we had to return to the lodge for brunch and to pick up tools and wire first.

While we ate, Joseph assembled the tools and supplies - and we headed out to make a kudu delivery - the bush version of Pizza Hut.

Joseph made quick work of the meat and we were back at the primary bait site in no time hanging the hindquarter of the little bull. We reinforced the blind with grass to insure we were invisible to peering eyes.



Once final preparations had been made, we repaired to the lodge to wait. Time ticked slowly. At 3:00 Dirk decided we should go. I left everything but my rifle, 5 rounds, and a flashlight - stripped of everything that could potentially make noise.

We unloaded chairs, cushions, and rifles at the closest road and Dirk drove another quarter mile to park. When he returned, we shouldered the equipment and slipped as quietly as one can walk while carrying steel and plastic chairs, cushions and rifles in to the hide.

Dirk entered first and was seated at the right side and I occupied the left. The hole through which my barrel protruded was the only view of the bait tree, and the 4" X 4" X 6" triangle offered a view of approximately 10 meters wide at the bait tree, 48 meters distant.



As the sun sank below the horizon the night air cooled dramatically. The trail camera had documented many occasions where the cat had made his entry at 5:55 pm - right at dark. We hoped the full moon would extend our shooting time a few minutes longer. The anticipation grew as the witching hour approached.

We strained to see the bait as the shadows grew longer. Francolin began their nervous chatter and Dirk raised his night vision device to check the tree. The full moon helped illuminated the area, but a shadow from overhanging branches kept the kudu hindquarters in the dark.

Dirk tapped my knee - the prearranged signal that the cat was present. Two taps would be my signal to shoot. I raised the .375 and aimed in on the bait. The scope gathered the remaining light well and the scene was an eerie image of dark and light. I peered through the Burris scope, set at 5 power, and I saw the cat.

It was seated on the limb directly behind the bait, facing us. The long rope of a tail hung straight down from the branch and the white tip twitched - seemingly detached from the rest of the scene. I centered the crosshairs on the chest and anticipated the two taps on the knee from Dirk. That’s when the cat bailed. The long lithe body flowed down the inclined trunk like quicksilver and he was gone.

Dirk hissed, “Do you see him?â€

“He’s gone,†was all I could muster.

The opportunity was past. I played the images over in my mind - forward and reverse - like an old black and white movie. I could have shot - I should have shot.

We sat silently in the near-dark. Dirk raised the night vision scope. Futile effort, I thought. That chance came and left.

“He’s sitting in front of the blind,†Dirk hissed. “See him?â€

I peered through the scope into the moonlit area in front of the hide, slowly scanning from left to right. As I leaned as far as I could to the left, I could just make out the outline of the big cat sitting on its haunches looking at the blind. The cat, for all the world looking like a large English pointer obeying the command to “sit†was so close it filled the right side of the field of view from top to bottom. I was leaning so far to the left, I was about to fall out of the chair.

“Ja,†I whispered.

“Shoot him,†Dirk replied.

Ahhh - shoot him. So much for taps on the knee, cat broadside in the tree, scope focused for 50 meters, steady rest, squeeze the trigger kind of shoot him. This would be tricky.

I leaned precariously further left, but couldn’t get the cat centered in the field of view. I would have to move. I slid left about 2 inches. The cushion slid 1 before it adhered to the chair. The squeak made by the cushion was barely audible inside the blind - but the leopard responded as if I had blown a bugle. He was gone. Truly gone this time.

The chance of a lifetime - a trophy tom leopard sitting at 25 yards - had disappeared into the brush like he was never even there.

All of a sudden, it was dark. We left. Day 1 of my quest for a leopard was over.

My wife, Darla, asked later if the cat was big. “Biggest leopard I have ever seen,†I replied. Truth be told, it was the only leopard I had ever seen outside of a zoo.

To be continued...

Are you joking ? Do you want to kill me ?

PLEASE CONTINUE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

L

Thats a great story.

Now I cant wait for the next episode...

You uncaring bastard. Here I am, living vicariously through you, and you abandon me...

Great story teller. Keep 'em coming.

Aarrrrrrghhhhhh !!!!

Day 2 of the Leopard Quest began at the new bait site. The bait at the concrete hut was hanging upside down, causing a modicum of excitement from my companions. Tracks from the previous night in the soft sand in the path showed that the cat had indeed visited, but paid no attention to the roadside meat locker. I took little excitement from the bait position as it had been balanced rather precariously on top of the branch, and the stiff breeze from the previous evening was sufficient to overturn small cars. But I deferred to my more experienced colleagues and nodded studiously in agreement and threw in a few solemn “Jaâ€s for good measure.



The tracks from the bait led straight from the site of our previous night’s leopard encounter. As we inspected that bait site, the kudu hams appeared to be several pounds lighter than it had been when we checked it last. All indications were that the cat had returned that morning to breakfast al fresco from the elevated dining area.

The missing meat seemed to goad Dirk into action, and we returned to the lodge to retrieve tools and materials to construct a second blind.

The new blind would be only 20 meters from the first, but since the cat had detected potential danger inside it, there was concern that he would recon the hide before going to the bait. Moving to a different location served to reassure any incoming leopard that the offending blind was empty, and no danger was present. Equally important it seemed to me - we wouldn’t be sitting in the confined quarters if the cat decided to inspect it from the inside.


Old blind (foreground) and new blind behind.

The new blind was buttressed by the toe of the dam on one side, and heavy brush to the rear. We gathered limbs (bristling with thorns!) and grass and completely filled in around the frame and material that comprised the base layer of the blind. The bait tree was about 50 meters from the hidden position. We put the finishing touches on the blind by adding more thorny limbs to the rear (to prevent a surprise visit from our intended quarry).

As Joseph whacked a thumb-sized branch in two with a panga, we heard a hiss and Dirk’s outstretched hand motioned silence. With all the noise and commotion of building a new blind, the cat had come to call. Dirk had seen it coming to the bait - a mere 50 yards away - at 11:30! My rifle? In the truck some 300 yards away...

We hastily finished and removed all our tools and supplies to let the area “cool down.†We made plans to return later that afternoon to ambush the cat.

Because we had spooked the cat at mid-day, we were able to justify returning by 2:30. No normal cat would be at the bait in broad daylight - but this seemed not to be a normal leopard. Once we settled in, Dirk broke out a paperback and occupied himself while I stared intently through the viewing port of our new digs. I knew the cat would wait until the sun set to visit his larder, but I barely took my eyes off the meat hanging in the tree. The minutes ticked away - then hours. The area was amazingly quiet - the ordinarily noisy sand grouse and francolin seemed muzzled. Only the doves provided a background score - in my mind repeating “Arapaho, Arapaho.â€

At dusk, the francolin began moving into the trees around the blind. A hen with 8 half-grown chicks churred noisy warning calls as they sprinted across the opening in front of the blind to the safety of the thick grass. I never saw them “fly up†to roost like turkeys, but as the light faded I could hear sporadic calls from the tree tops.

As it grew dark and the bait tree slowly faded into the shadows, a loud metallic “clank†shattered the quiet - followed by 2 more. Something, probably warthogs, had lifted and dropped the sheet metal water gap under the fence to the south. Moments later the whinny of zebras could be heard from the waterhole.

Too dark to see, we elected to leave the hide and call it a day. We quietly slipped out and found the nearby roadway. After a couple of hundred yards, I detected movement in the moonlight ahead. Dirk switched on the green LED cap light that Darla had given him as I peered through the scope. A black-backed jackal - intrigued by the green glow, came closer to investigate. He stopped at 15 yards - his movements waffling between curiosity and self-preservation. He finally turned and sauntered down a side path. Dirk seemed pleased with his new toy.


Day 3 of the Leopard Quest began much like the days preceding it - a chilly ride in the open topped Rover to the active leopard bait. We parked the truck across the pond from the blind to minimize the disturbance and checked the mud at the water’s edge for tracks. Fresh deep tracks were visible at a location directly across the pond from the blind entrance, leading me to wonder if the cat had watched us the previous evening from his drinking spot. Cheetah tracks, sporting toenails at the end of each pug, were also present in the mud of the retreating water.


Checking tracks at waterhole

The leopard had fed the previous evening some time after we had called it quits. Eight to 10 pounds of kudu ham was missing from the 3-day old carcass. Dirk rigged the trail camera, and after minor touch up to the blind, we left with plans to return that afternoon.

We saddled up at 3:00 and made our way to the parking spot near the blind. We stopped short of the pond, and I charged a round into the chamber. We quietly made our way the quarter mile down the roadway to a game trail, and ultimately to the blind.

I entered first and made some last minute adjustments to the position of my chair, removed some bits of grass from my shooting port, positioned my rifle, and snicked off the safety as I prepared for another evening of sitting like a statue and watching a piece of dead kudu.


View from the new blind

Dirk leaned his rifle against the back “wall†of the blind and broke out a novel to read while the sun began its slow drop to the horizon. I noticed he had selected a scope-less big bore rifle for his insurance gun. I hoped he wouldn’t need it.

As dark approached, the francolin began to move to the cover of the surrounding trees. They were strangely silent. We could hear very few birds in the distance either - and I resigned myself to another evening of silent meditation.

The sun’s last rays illuminated the tin can that Dirk had wired to the bait. Inside the can were three coins, that according to Dirk’s plan, would clink against the can and each other as an auditory alarm notifying us to the cat’s presence. I had reservations about the setup - but was open to the possibility that the metallic noise wouldn’t spook our intended prey.


Devoured kudu hams

Just as visibility became extremely limited, I heard footfalls just to my right. It was not the noisy scurrying din of birds or rodents. Neither was it the heavy plodding of hoofed animals. It was soft and measured - move/stop/quiet - move/move/silence.

As I sat straining for the slightest sound and searching intently through the screen of thorny limbs we had placed, I could visualize the cat inspecting the old blind to our right - searching for the potential danger that had occupied the hide 2 nights before.

Dirk heard it too, and I could see him raise the night vision scope to his eye to scan the area. The light of the full moon was still a few minutes away, so it was too dark to see into the shadows without the aid of a scope or other light-gathering device.

I felt and saw Dirk tap my left knee.

I began to raise the .375 as I had done when the leopard had made a previous appearance, but Dirk signaled not to move. I held there - knowing that the cat had come to call, but instructed to wait patiently. My muscles, which had been so steady in our previous encounter, began to ever-so-slightly twitch. I drew in 3 deep breaths in a deliberate attempt to increase the oxygen flow to my arms - then 2 more when that didn’t quiet the tiny quivers.

Two taps. Decisive strikes to my knee. Showtime.

I inhaled again as I shouldered the rifle and I pointed the muzzle at the dim shine of the tin can. As I brought the picture into focus and elevated the crosshairs to above the kudu haunch, I became aware that there was indeed a leopard standing on the limb to the right side of the bait. I centered the crosshairs on the chest, and stroked the trigger.

The recoil and muzzle flash kept me from seeing the results of my shot. I replayed the mental tape of the shot - yes, it was on target when the gun fired.

“Did it jump?†Dirk asked.

“ No,†I replied, “I didn’t see it jump.â€

There was a long silence. We stared into the dusky shadows and strained to hear - searching for any clue as to the whereabouts of the potential danger. I checked and re-checked the safety. Out of reflex and self-preservation I had chambered another round automatically. As each second ticked by, the anxiety mounted. And the seconds kept ticking by...

And then, like an elongated sandbag, the cat fell to the ground with a dull, wet thud from the tree limb. I watched through the scope for the slightest movement that would send a finishing shot down range - but the cat was done. It had died instantly - slumping to the tree limb without so much as a reflexive twitch to nudge it from its perch.

“Do you see it?†Dirk asked.

“He’s lying under the limb, dead as a hammer. His tail didn’t even twitch when he fell,†I narrated.

Dirk offered a quick congratulations and a handshake as we stumbled out of the blind. My legs were unresponsive. I blamed it on the 3 hours of sitting like a wooden totem - though the excitement of the just-concluded business may have had some effect.

Dirk reminded me that “dead†leopards are still dangerous, and we approached with due caution. The light from our combined “torches†played over the black and yellow form as we cautiously approached. Dirk pronounced the cat dead as sure as any coroner could - and I breathed for the first time in several minutes.

The cat was smaller than I had envisioned. Writers are fond of described the color of the fur as “anthracite.†I’m no writer or gemologist so I can’t confirm or deny that opinion. But the colors, even under artificial light, were striking. The jet black rosettes against the deep golden yellow background were absolutely stunning. The eyes seemed almost mystical - like looking into deep pools of yellow green with black pupils fanning out into disappearing rays.

“This is a really big leopard for a female,†Dirk remarked.

My elation was temporarily dampened as Dirk revealed the reason for the smaller size. We had examined a dozen photos from the trail camera and knew that there was more than one leopard visiting the bait, but recent photos had shown only toms.

As quickly as my mood had changed, the pendulum swung the other direction. A tom would obviously have been my preference - but this was a damn nice leopard lying in front of me! I had held my nerve and I had taken one of Africa’s finest trophies.

“Where did you shoot it?†Dirk asked.

The bright beam of the flashlight revealed a gash in the left side of the cat’s head. “In the head,†I replied apologetically.



I replayed the tapes again. No, I thought, the cat was facing to the right and I center punched the chest. I examined the fine fur of the chest and finally located a hole about the size of a nickle.

“There,†I showed Dirk.

“Big hole, exit hole,†he replied.

She must have been turning left just as I fired. The big bullet had passed fully through the chest, entered the head just below the ear, and then exited above and behind the left eye. The gash looked like it could be easily repaired by a good taxidermist, and the holes through the chest were difficult to even detect.

“Let’s go get the truck,†Dirk suggested. He turned to leave, but my feet seemed to be stuck in concrete. He turned back expecting to see me following, but all I could mutter was, “I’ll stay here.â€

Logically, it didn’t make sense for both of us to hike to the truck just to drive back. But more importantly, I wanted to examine my prize without feeling self-conscious because the PH was watching my every move.

Dirk left. I knelt in the Namibian dirt bathed in the light of the full moon and thanked God for my good fortune.

Usually, when hunting in Africa, the shot is made, the photos taken, and any further relationship between the hunter and the hunted is severed. Skinners remove the hide, prepare the skull and horns for the taxidermist, and butcher the meat. The hunter usually is left with a sense of accomplishment from the hunt, but an incomplete familiarity with the animal itself. I was determined not to let that happen with my leopard.

I examined the leopard’s teeth. The canines were impressive - an inch and a half long and thick at the gum line. The four tiny teeth separating the “fangs†were no bigger than #4 shot. I pressed on the pads of the feet to reveal the sharp claws. Not as big as I had imagined. Not “razor sharp†as writers describe, but formidable weapons nonetheless. I examined the path of the bullet, the length of the tail, the softness of the fur, the details of the eyes and nose, the length and stiffness of the whiskers, and the irregular pattern of the rosettes.

All too quickly, the growl of the diesel engine and the dim light from the high beams announced Dirk’s return. We each grabbed a couple of paws and carried the cat to the truck. I was grateful that Dirk respectfully laid the leopard in the truck bed rather than tossing it in like just another carcass.

The rear gate secured, we headed through the night air, past the windmills, through the river bed and among the sandy tracks. At least we must have - I don’t have much recollection of the ride to the lodge as my mind was playing and re-playing the events of the evening - then suddenly, we were pulling up to the employee housing.

A shout came from the edge of the firelight - at once a salutation and a question. Dirk responded in the affirmative in Afrikaans - and suddenly black men poured out of the fenced enclosure all talking at once. Words of Ovambo, Afrikaans, English and German all ran together in an excited din as the men swarmed over the little truck to examine the prize in the light of the torches.

I accepted handshakes from Leopold and Joseph - and others whom I didn’t even know smiled and nodded their shy congratulations. Leopold and Joseph and another man climbed aboard the truck, and we were off to the house.

Dirk had radioed ahead to inform Juergen of our success, and it was an impromptu party at the skinning area. Rita led the parade carrying 2 bottles of Tafel. She and Darla and the rest of the crew offered congratulations and hugs and handshakes. Darla seemed at once surprised and pleased at the spontaneous celebration, and recorded the goings-on with the camera.

Though it was dark, photos were taken with the aid of the flash. Dirk said the cat would be gutted and placed in the cool room to allow it to chill from the outside and in to protect the delicate fur from slippage. More photos would be taken in the morning. Joseph carefully eviscerated the animal - and carefully washed the blood from the cat’s amber coat. Again, I was pleased to see the respect this beautiful animal was accorded.



The party wound down, and the participants gradually drifted off to the open braii area for potjie and conversation - then to our rooms for the night.

Despite the excitement of the evening, I dropped off to sleep soundly.

The next morning, we were supposed to sleep late, eat a leisurely breakfast and take additional photos. My internal clock was having nothing to do with the plan. Darla and I finally started the day only slightly later than usual, and we sat outside and watched and listened to the Namibian bird life welcome a new day.

Joseph arrived just after breakfast and prepared to skin the leopard. Luckily, Darla and I had wandered over to the skinning area early- and I explained to Joseph that we needed pictures first.

The frozen feline was posed for pictures - but it was obvious from the start that the rigor in the neck and front legs would not permit anything resembling a normal pose. The eyes - searing and a mile deep the evening before - were an opaque blue after a night in the cool box. The moment was gone.

We took several photos, and surrendered the cat to Joseph’s knife. My presence seemed to be a distraction to the skinners, so I left. I returned periodically to look in on the progress - not because I was concerned about the quality of the job so much as a continuation of my previous evening’s post mortem exam.

Two days later, we returned to the bait sites to check for leopard activity. We were curious to see if the other cat that had starred in the trail camera photos had returned. The bait was absolutely smashed - the remainder of the kudu half had been completely devoured and ripped from the tree limb. The hind quarters had been separated and were found some distance from the branch - with the tin can still wired to the bare leg bones. I checked the can and had to grin.



“Dirk, he not only ate the meat, but he pocketed your change to boot,†I laughed. Unfortunately, we hadn’t placed the trail camera to record the perpetrator, but it was nice to see our fireworks hadn’t permanently dampened the tom’s enthusiasm for our all-you-can-eat kudu buffet.


Other Game
Other game was of secondary importance to securing a leopard, but I managed to bag a nice gemsbok bull, a mature kudu, and a zebra in the time we had remaining. I don’t have horn measurements, as I measure the quality of the hunt differently than some. They’re all gold medal trophies under my scoring system.







The zebra hunt provided an interesting twist. When Juergen located the striped stallion after the shot, a dazed pangolin lay beside it - obviously the most unlucky bystander in all of Namibia. As I told Dirk, “You know it’s going to be a bad day when you’re minding your own business and a dead zebra falls out of the sky and lands on you!†I like to think that the unique little critter survived the ordeal...



Blue Bag
Anyone who has traveled to Africa can’t help but notice the needs. In past trips, we took note of the lack of clothing and educational supplies available to children - and decided to do something. My wife and daughter and I began picking up warm children’s clothing items and school supplies on clearance sale during our summer months - and over the past 2 years our pile gradually grew. Our efforts got a tremendous boost when a fellow AR Member who goes by EJ offered to send a box of school supplies. His “box†contained hundreds of pens, pencils, calculators, notebooks, and educational items of every description. Our dentist kicked in 100 toothbrushes. And our efforts were multiplied again when my wife contacted the Student Council at the Cheyenne, Oklahoma High School. They took on the project and collected supplies and cash. Before we left, we had amassed about 100 pounds of supplies and $250 in cash.

I had no idea where to start in locating a school, or a contact who could act as a go-between. In desperation, I Googled “Otavi school.†Lo and behold, there was a web site run by a young American Peace Corps volunteer who taught at a school in Otavi. She had posted her e-mail address, and I sent her a message. Before the day was over, April had volunteered to help coordinate our efforts.

Safari Club International sent us duffle bags to transport our supplies, and the Oklahoma SCI Chapter agreed to cover any excess baggage fees we might incur.

We arranged a day to meet and hand off the donations. April set up a meeting with the school Principal - and lined up needy children to benefit from our infusion of cash in the way of school tuition and hostel payments and school uniform purchases. After we met some of the students who would benefit from the donations, we toured the school. The kids were like kids everywhere, welcoming our interruption in an otherwise routine school day.



Overall the experience rates as a highlight - of this or any other trip! We have no illusions about the long term effects of our involvement (or lack thereof) - but we hope we made life a little better for a little while for a few children in one school.



The generosity of individuals (thank you EJ and April!) and groups is heart warming. I would urge anyone going to Africa to consider contacting SCI Humanitarian Services before you go. The benefits far outweigh the costs!

Post script

The flights back went ok - except for the Lufthansa baggage handler and catering strike in Frankfurt. We endured a 4 hour delay from our scheduled departure time. My rifles didn’t make it to Dallas on our flight, but were delivered the next day.

Work has suffered since I returned. Daydreams and plans for our next trip seem to occur at the most inopportune moment. I really liked the vacation from responsibility we enjoyed in Namibia!

I apologize for the length of this report. I kept a detailed journal and it formed the basis for this tome. But at the same time, I would be happy to provide even more details or information if anything in the post piqued your curiosity.

David

Thanks for sharing your story.

Congratulations

I realy enjoyed your report.

Thanks for sharing

Hugh Congratulations on a magnificent stroy. Having hunter Leopard with Dirk and also in Zim ( hunter 0 leo 2) I was able to see, hear , smell and taste your hunt. Amazing feeling just being able to close my eyes and be there. My wife and I are due back with Dirk & Rita in two+ weeks. You have just made it harder to wait but when I get too itchy I will reread your wonderful post. Thanks, art

Great report and nice trophies! The trip to the school must have been special... thanks taking the time and effort to portray hunters in such a positive light!

I know how you feel about wanting to be alone with your leopard.

When the PH and game scout went back to get the truck I sat down on the road and draped my leopard over my lap and just sat there with a big grin on my face. He stayed draped over me all the way back to camp and I didn't want the ride to ever end as it was the culmination of a dream that started as a pre-teen and ended almost 50 years later.

Congratulations!!! Excellent report and photos. I especially like the school photos and your pangolin photo.

This would make a nice story for African Hunter magazine.

Thanks, what a great great great story.
L

David , that was a great report. I'm like you in that I don't take a tape measure either. All my animals are #1 in my recordbook too. I'll be hunting with Dirk next year June 15th-30th. I'd like to know more about the Blue Bag Program.

Congrats and awesome report !!!!
What a Great Hunt ! Glad the supplies helped .

Outstanding!!

Fantastic report David!

David,

Your report isn't too long, the longer the better. I'm envious that you found a Pangolin. That is one of the few animals that I still want to see, but haven't yet.

Colin

Acer,
Beautiful leopard, and I especially appreciated the respect you showed your cat!

Good for you!

Thanks to all for all the kind comments. It's always an internal debate about what to include and what to leave out.

Lorenzo, Jakkals, Badger Matt and Scruffy - my apologies on the break! Dealing with dial-up, I always worry that about the time I get the project done, the connection will time out and I'll lose everything.

Art - enjoy your trip! Please give our regards to Dirk and Rita and the staff. Wish we were going with you!

Bwanamrm - We DID enjoy the trip to the school - but it was a bittersweet experience. The reality is that we probably didn't make much difference in the situation - there is just too little cultural emphasis on education. The school we visited has about 1,000 kids enrolled in grades 1 - 12. There were 2 Seniors. That spoke volumes to me. Unless the benefits outweigh the demands, education will not improve. Another school that my wife visited had teachers that had only completed grade 10! That said, it's an uncaring soul who can watch the situation without being moved to do something...

Bill, Steve & Wolfgar - Ahhh, kindred spirits! Thanks for your candor.

Kathi - Thanks for your help in travel arrangements (again!). Regarding your comment about African Hunter - a fellow asked me a while back if I was a writer, and I told him I thought so, but publishers didn't! Thanks for your words of encouragement!

Colin - Good luck in your quest for a pangolin - I never dreamed we'd see one, and I consider myself very fortunate.

Ej - Thanks again! The Principal had tears in her eyes when she saw all the goodies you and others sent!

When you guy's have a chance, take a look at the Leopard story I wrote, which appeared in the Sept/Oct '07 issue of SCI's Safari Magazine.

True, we are all kindered spirits here on this one!

What a wonderfull story! Thank you for sharing it with us.

great story--it makes me want to go back and spend about 20 hours in a leopard blind.

David:

I was absolutely facinated by your story as you captured my feelings exactly as I sat in the same blind and looked out the same hole as you did. I am very happy you got your leopard and were so happy with it. It is a beautiful cat, and you made the kind of shot we all want to make when going after old spots. Thanks for taking the time to write it and give me a chance to get an up-close look at one of the leopards that eluded me.

Jay

Congrats on a great trip and beautiful cat.

David,
Great story! Congratulations on your leopard and other fine trophies. I hunted with Dirk at Omburo the last 2 weeks of May and put the first baits up on the property. So, I was excited to see you got your cat at one of the spots I hunted. Thanks for bringing back the memories.

Fantastic report, This is the hunt I want to try next

Grade A stuff!!

Congrats,