Leopard hunting is a one-shot game. Miss your shot and the cat is gone. Wound your leopard and your life is on the blurred line between hunter and hunted. All that can go bad on a leopard hunt can and will in the seconds taken to settle the sights on the rosette that becomes the hunter's target.
Steve Newman knew that and more, which is why he'd practiced his shooting every day for a year before going to South Africa to hunt leopard at Rocco Gioia's Casketts Ranch, near Hoedspruit in the Transvaal.
Less experienced hunters would have been content to zero their guns and get in a little practice before the hunt, but Steve was going after one of the world's most dangerous and unpredictable cats with a Smith & Wesson 645 in .44 magnum with a six-inch barrel and using only iron sights.
His professional hunter, Jono Robertson wasn't thrilled.
"I never heard such a thing," Jono said. "Bloody well crazy I thought. Taking a shot at a leopard with a handgun is tough enough, but its been done. But using the open sights, that's stretching things just a bit. But that's what he wanted and I thought we'd give it a go."
Jono met Steve at Johannesburg's International Airport. After loading all of Steve's gear in the back of the Toyota they left the city for the four-hour drive to Casketts Ranch and Steve hoped, his date with a leopard.
"I also planned to take a Cape buffalo with my .454 Casull but that got canned and I had to use a rifle," Steve said. "The rules got changed after another handgun hunter on the Timbavati wounded a buffalo and caused some serious problems for the reserve."
ROCCO HUNTED MOST OF HIS BUFFALO on the Timbavati because of the large herds and access to record book game. Unfortunately he doesn't set the reserve's policies and Steve was faced with either giving up the buffalo hunt or using the rifle. Earlier this year the Timbavati managers banned all hunting on the reserve, making it even more difficult for buffalo hunters to experience a truly wild hunt.
"I wasn't happy about the change in my buffalo hunting plans but that's the way things go sometimes," Steve said.
The leopard hunt was on Rocco's ranch and that was still a handgun hunt. Rocco is one of the few outfitters in Africa who really understands the needs of the handgun hunters and works to accommodate them.
After taking his buffalo Steve started his leopard hunt with a lot of enthusiasm. It was to be a long hunt. The first few days of the hunt were exciting for Steve. One leopard hit a bait the first day but when Jono and Steve crept into the hide to try and catch the leopard coming back for more dinner that evening, the cat didn't return.
"We spent a long time in the hide for nothing," Steve said. Each morning Steve and Jono would climb into the Land Cruiser and make their rounds of the baits, looking for signs of a leopard having a free meal. The days began to drag.
"I was bored," Steve said.
LEOPARD HUNTING IS BORING. Every day the baits are checked, and every day the trackers scour the countryside looking for fresh spoor. Some trackers search with enthusiasm because they dislike leopards. Others just enjoy the excitement of the hunt. A few do their scouting because it is the only way they can be paid.
Several times a new spoor was picked up, and the guide, trackers, professional hunter, and Steve all piled into the Land Cruiser and charged off to check the spoor. Everyone helped to follow, examine, analyze, and then make a decision about setting another bait. Each impala or warthog shot for bait adds an expense to the hunt because each bait will ultimately cost the PH, reducing the profit. There is also the consideration that the other baits must be maintained by replacing the carcass every third day.
"Leopard can be all around you," Jono said one day. "But they don't want to eat what we've got for 'em and you keep trying."
Steve's hunt was frustrating. He'd read all the books he'd brought over, and he'd taken to raiding Rocco's superb library for reading material.
"Best advice to a leopard hunter is bring lots of books to read," Steve said. "You'll spend a lot of time sitting and reading, and waiting."
The other choice is to hunt plains game, but Steve had taken what plains game he wanted on a previous safari. To break the monotony after checking the baits each morning Steve would take a few practice shots on Rocco's range. There was always the chance the leopard would come and he wanted to be ready. Steve had too many hours, days, and months invested in the hunt to risk losing it all with one bad shot.
After 12 days of checking baits, and replacing baits that had been stripped by the vultures, Steve was about ready to quit. He had one more hunting day left but the chance of a leopard hitting a bait on the last day was pretty slim. He was ready to pack for home when one of Rocco's trackers hurried into the lodge and told Jono one of the new baits had been hit.
"We sensed this new cat was it," Jono said, "but now I was sick."
Jono had taken a bad cold and couldn't risk going into the hide with Steve. "One sneeze and no cat," Jono said. Andrew Hogg, another professional hunter who frequently works for Rocco took Jono's place.
"I felt like I was cheating Jono," Steve said, "but this was our last chance for a cat."
In late afternoon Andrew and Steve went to the hide and crept into it. They could see the bait where the leopard had chewed on it. Steve made a little rest for his Smith & Wesson, then checked the sights. He laid down to wait with Andrew beside him.
"I suppose that was the worst part," Steve said. "But Jono and I had been down that road before so I knew what to expect."
WHAT HE DIDN'T EXPECT was the impala announcing the leopard's presence. As the deadly cat made his way toward his free meal the impala barked warnings and the two men could track the leopard's cautious route to the bait. The shooting light was becoming marginal and Steve was nervous. Slipping into the tree like a thief without a conscience, the leopard materialized. Large, spotted, menacing, and feeding on the nearly rancid impala.
"I don't remember cocking the hammer on the gun," Steve said. "But, I know I had cocked it, probably when the impala started their warnings. I lined up the sights. All those rounds at the range in New York, the shots at Rocco's range, were in my mind. It was one shot or nothing. I aimed for the shoulder, knew where the bullet would hit and pulled the trigger."
The cat leapt into the air in a ball of fur and fury. Its anger and pain were a bawling roar that echoed through the bush of Casketts Ranch. The leopard hit the ground under the limb, rolled into a fighting mad ball of fury and howled its anger, trashing around on the edge of the grass. Then, it was quiet. Andrew put his arm on Steve and whispered they would wait a few minutes.
"I wanted to be sure the thing was dead," Andrew later said. "So, we waited a few minutes then got out of the hide and walked slowly and carefully to the tree where the leopard was supposed to be, only he wasn't there."
Now it was dark and Andrew was getting nervous. They were surrounded by the long grass and bush. The leopard was obviously wounded, and had all the advantages. The two men backed away from the bait tree to a small embankment where they could shine their flashlight over the area, hoping to pick up the cat's eyes for a finishing shot.
"Then it became very exciting," Steve said. "The cat came out of the grass snarling and spitting at us and running toward us. I thought one of us was going to have a personal relationship with the leopard when it stopped at the base of embankment and went back into the grass.".
Andrew didn't know why the cat stopped its charge. But, now it was back in the grass, waiting for a more opportune time to get revenge. Andrew suggested they retreat to the Land Cruiser and return to the lodge to rearm and try again.
"Truthfully, I wasn't so sure about the damage done to the leopard by the handgun," Andrew said.
STEVE DIDN'T HAVE THAT PROBLEM. He was confident. He had selected the Remington 240-grain Soft Point ammunition for his leopard hunt because he knew exactly where the round would hit from his gun, and he knew it would penetrate deeply, expanding as it went, and delivering maximum bone and tissue damage.
"I really thought we'd find the leopard dead under the tree," Steve said.
By the time they reached Rocco's Landela Lodge, Steve was doing what all hunters do when an animal they thought was cleanly shot doesn't seem to be; he was reliving the shot over and over in his mind. At the lodge he told Rocco and Jono he was sure it was a clean shot. He didn't believe it was possible the cat might have moved just as he fired. He couldn't remember the cat moving the instant before he fired.
"I didn't think the cat moved. I thought it was dead in the grass and the charge had been its last gasp," Steve said.
True or not, the decision was made to go back to the bait tree with another PH, Chris Sessions, and myself. Both PHs were carrying shotguns loaded with buckshot. I had a Game Finder that picks up an animal's heat signature and I would go along to see if we could locate the cat.
At the tree we parked the truck so the headlights were shining on the base of the tree, and the four of us got out and walked to the tree. There was a drop or two of blood to show us the cat had been hit. We formed a little perimeter, shining flashlights into the night, hoping to find the cat.
I turned on the Game Finder and began scanning the area. The first animal's heat signature I picked up was a cane rat foraging for food. Another animal that circled us was an impala ram. Finally I picked up a steady heat source in the grass. It didn't appear to be more than a few yards from us and it wasn't moving.
"Bet that's the cat," Steve said. "It's not moving so it must be dead."
"Could be," Andy said.
We walked around the grass, shining flashlights into the grass, trying to see past the thick, interlocking leaves. The Game Finder showed us the heat source wasn't moving.
"Could go in after it," Chris said. He thought about the options and said, "or we could wait until morning and go after it. If he is wounded and laying up, the wound will stiffen and won't be quite as likely to be so bothersome."
WE DECIDED TO GO BACK TO THE LODGE. Morning light would be soon enough. The next morning I heard the PHs and Steve leave the lodge in the Land Cruiser. An hour later they came back, honking the horn and yelling victoriously. The leopard was carefully unloaded and laid on the grass for pictures. There was something odd about it. The cat had died with its head held up by the grass as it watched us in the night and anyone who had gone into the grass for it would have become a scratching post. Chris told us what happened when he went in to the grass after the cat.
"I had my shotgun in one hand and I was pushing the grass to the side as I went when suddenly there it was. The bloody thing was staring at me with his head up!"
There was an instant when Chris was ready to put a point blank load of buckshot into the cat's face before he realized the cat was dead.
"I reached out and poked it," Chris said, "but it was dead and I took a breath. First one in some time I think."
When the others reached him they realized how close they had come the night before to having a second charge. The position of the cat was evidence it had been watching them and waiting for an opportunity.
"Bloody well scared me," Chris admitted.
With the cat at the lodge, Steve was able to examine his shot. He hadn't missed, nor had the cat moved. The shot was exactly where he had aimed. The big slug tore through both shoulders and lodged just under the skin on the far side. Andrew and Steve had been charged by a cat with two broken shoulders.
"That's why it didn't come up the embankment after us," Steve said, "the Remington 240-grain ammo had done its job, although the cat had still managed to charge, it couldn't climb or jump."
More than a year of planning had gone into Steve's hunt and it ended on the exciting note that he wanted, and Steve will talk about his leopard around future campfires. The three professional hunters who worked with him to collect the cat can tell the story of the American who shot a leopard with a .44 magnum handgun, using open sights.
At Rocco's, the guides and trackers continue to find leopard spoor several times a week. When there is a hunter at the lodge who wants a leopard the hunt starts again, but it doesn't always end in the last light of day with a single shot at one of the world's most dangerous big-game animals. Sometimes the leopard doesn't die in the grass, but waits patiently. Cats are like that, they have a lot of patience.
Readers who would like more information on Casketts Ranch hunts are invited to write either B&B Safari, Dept. ALO/GLG, P.O. Box 808, Canon City, CO 81215 or Fax 719-269-1733.
Readers may also contact Rocco Gioia directly at: Rocco Gioia, Travels Africa/Roc Safaris, Dept. ALO/GLG, P.O. Box 693, Hoedspruit 1380, South Africa. Phone: 01127-1528-32439, or Fax, 01127-1528-31462.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: A few months after this hunt Jono Robertson was murdered in Johannesburg, South Africa by thieves after his hunter's deposits.
Copyright (c) 1997 Galen Geer. All rights reserved.
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