A leopard had stepped silently out of the bushes on the right and was crossing the road about three metres in front of our car.
Now we had an elephant proceeding steadily towards us in a direct line from the right and a leopard in front of us who was heading equally steadily towards the bushes on the left.
We were faced with a dilemma.
What to do?
Who to turn our backs on?
How to keep an eye on the elephant and at the same time marvel at the beauty and grace of the leopard?
Chacma thrust the camera into my hands. Shaking with excitement, I pressed the shutter button. It would not click. I pressed it again. There was still no click. I pressed again and again, but it just would not click. The button seemed jammed.
I shoved the camera back at Chacma, just managing to catch a quick glimpse of the advancing elephant before it was hidden from view again as Chacma stretched towards the passenger window. His attention was now firmly fixed on getting a photograph of the leopard. I dared not get in the way of the camera by craning to see the elephant. I gazed in awe at the leopard.
It was a magnificent creature. Its coat was bright gold, the spots on it the deepest black. Its tail was long, the tip a fluffy white curl that almost brushed the ground.
Afterwards I learnt that the camera needs time to focus between one press of the button and the next. In the excitement of the moment I had not been listening for the little beep by which the camera says “OK, I am focussed, you can go ahead and take the picture.”
Luckily Chacma knew what to do. He managed to capture these parting shots before the leopard slipped silently into the vegetation and vanished from view.

