“Here came down the leopard day before” pointed our guide. I craned my neck to see a rock mould rising into a huge rounded ridge. Don’t mistake this as a rugged mountain ridge. This is a monolith shaped over million years ago today, sentinelled by Srilankan leopards.
BBC director Paul Williams journaled after his face to face encounter with one in Yala that they are the biggest Panthera pardus in the world and with no other competitors, the struggle to mark territory is next to nil here. As a result, leopards proudly plod along the roads of Yala National Park, Srilanka’s most visited game park.
Close by, a monkey calling up from the canopy or the shrill call of a peacock might be an alarm signal of the leopard-on-walk. Safari vehicles in anticipation cluttered the way until one passerby ranger signalled others of calls coming inside the jungle. Our first anticipation ended in nothing. It’s time to embark on the second.
We wheeled ahead, almost afloat on air as the car rounded the bend. Me and my travel partner for many years, my husband scanned the forest with eager eyes. With every turn, a new vista opened before us. The lotus studded wetlands cooled our skin and varied landscape of the forest would slow the pace of our hearts.
Gradually a road began to hook around a tower of rock. Locals coined it manhead as it stands looking a human face in middle of the forest. ‘How on earth can anyone locate a leopard if one sits at such heights', thoughts alike crowd my mind.
In an hour we stumbled upon many such inselbergs, some reaching heights of over 800 feet.
“Most of the area is underlain by Vijayan rocks formed over 600 million years ago. They are made up of hornblende and granite gneisses,, the guide briefs. He continues “Leopards are the best climbing cats having leaner bodies and strong leg muscles benefits them to climb up to such heights”.
He would know. Krishan, before successfully graduating a qualified game ranger, was into jungle camping, conducting photography safaris inside the jungle, a motor racer- all into one. Today he is out with us fuelling his long grown obsession of tracking Sri Lankan leopards.
The tree next to us rustled a bit, dropping some dry twigs. A leopard? We all freeze . Nope, a shiny body of a dragon, albeit baby Komodo-kind, climbed off the branches giving up its basking site. Shooting through the dense jungle, it escaped. But why? We got that soon !
A trunk of an elephant popped out of the scrubland. They came a family of three and then jerking back his head appeared the baby from behind.
The trunk of the mother coiled lightly around the neck of the baby. The next moment both were holding each other's trunks in unison. Rare sightings of emotion seen in the wilderness.
The blow of each trunk bracketed branches of trees. We waited until the family was out of earshot.
Our energies were ebbing under the afternoon sun at the end of first half of our full-day safari. No trace or trail of a leopard, but many moments of note.
After all this came the feast, done in the ‘castaway’ style by the beach. Also artfully arranged traditional Sri Lankan curries on bamboo mats under the shade of murmuring trees. All this by the side of the Indian Ocean. What better way to win the heart of travellers, I thought.
With few good moments of the safari behind us, a sense of unhurried lassitude took over the safari drive. This time Krishan paused every five minutes to hear and feel the rustle or any movements undergrowth.
‘Anything there?’, I asked, ‘why are you stopping? ' Krishan informs, looking balefully around, the high heat forces the animals to look out for shade on lower ground. Plus, the hustle of safari vehicles are less compared to morning hours.
Right, he is. There was silence all over. The sort that makes you sit up and watch out closely.
A Toyoto Hilux zoomed past us, the driver on it, a close acquaintance of Krishan it felt. Both exchanged a hand signal and the very next moment I clasped one arm on the camera and the other on the seat. The car whisked away.
Soon safari vehicles took over the empty trail flying clouds of dust behind them.
Call of monkeys followed us, soon joined the spotted deer.
Our car was flying off ground, almost blinding us by the falling-over branches. I thought if Krishan was brushing up his former motor racing skills on these trails, that turned into a racing track in no time. But in Yala, this can mean only one thing.
Each jeep gets a few seconds to look and take photos before moving on and letting the next one take its place, the entire process smoothly and efficiently managed by the locals.
When my turn came, I could not locate. My husband, gifted with extraordinary observation, spotted the denizen seated on the brow of a granite hill.
Turns out the predator was at a height of at least 200 feet and I still could not locate. I peeked into the view-founder using as a binocular and bumped up to 200 mm. I looked through the lens, my heart pounding harder this time.
The rock face was black, that too falling in the shadow of dense foliage, offsetting the light. The challenge was to get the shots in 60 seconds, behind a long entourage of jeeps, waiting for their turns.
It reminded of getting pushed off at Sistine Chapel on taking time seeing the creation of man. Alas! I got my shots. My first shots of a leopard, but not without luck and expertise of leopard trackers !!
