Night Stalker | Leopard | Unframed Fine Art Print | Peter Delaney

Into the Wild — Night Stalker | The Story

Some encounters in the wild are unforgettable because of what you see.

Others are unforgettable because of what you feel.

We were on a night drive in the Greater Kruger, moving through the darkness in search of a leopard. We already knew there were several powerful males moving through this part of the reserve, including two large territorial males, Tyson and Mafufunyana, who were often involved in battles over the females in the area.

Earlier, we had spent time with Salayexe, another leopard whose presence would later become the subject of Leopard on the Prowl. But this evening felt very different.

It was pitch black.

Then came the call.

A deep, guttural leopard call somewhere in the darkness.

We stopped the vehicle and switched off the lights.

Almost immediately, something about the silence felt wrong.

There was no bird calling. No insects buzzing. No distant movement from the bush.

Nothing.

Anyone who spends enough time in the African bush learns to pay attention to those moments. When everything suddenly goes quiet, there is usually a reason.

A predator is close.

I had my camera ready as the ranger slowly swept a light through the darkness, hoping to catch the telltale reflection of a pair of eyes.

Then we saw them.

About ten metres away, on a small mound, a leopard was staring directly at us.

Mafufunyana.

For a moment, neither he nor we moved.

The ranger briefly allowed the diffused light to fall across his face. It revealed only his head, everything beyond it disappearing into the surrounding darkness.

His eyes were sharp and completely focused.

His nose, pink and black with the marks of age, caught the light. Old scars crossed his face, reminders of battles fought over territory and females, while a small fresh cut marked his forehead.

He was an enormous, powerful male.

I remember feeling the hairs rise on the back of my neck.

There was something deeply unnerving about looking into those eyes in the middle of an otherwise completely black African night.

I managed to steady myself and make the photograph.

Then, just as quickly as he had appeared, Mafufunyana turned and slipped back into the darkness.

Gone.

That was my only encounter with him.

Mafufunyana's name means "Aggressive One", a fitting name for a male who lived a hard territorial life. He was the Gowrie male, or son of the Paradise Valley female at MalaMala, born in the latter part of 1998. His father was Tjololo, also known as the Rock Drift male, and he had a brother.

But none of those facts could prepare me for meeting him that night.

There was no dramatic chase.

No roar.

No prolonged encounter.

Just a pair of eyes appearing from the darkness, a brief beam of light across an aged and battle-scarred face, and then nothing but blackness again.

That fleeting moment lasted only seconds.

The feeling stayed with me much longer.

I called the print Night Stalker.

Because sometimes the most powerful encounters in the wild are the ones that barely happen at all.