It was so nearly dark as not to matter, and I was frantically waiting on the green light to shoot the enormous tom leopard feeding on bait just 60 yards away. When Tanya Blake uttered, “Take him,” I wasted no time settling the crosshair just behind the cat’s shoulder and broke the trigger. Blinded by the muzzle flash, I heard the bullet strike flesh, and Tanya told me I’d knocked the cat out of the tree, but he’d recovered and trotted away behind the bait, albeit very slowly.
Elation mixed with doubt combined for one of the strangest feelings I’ve ever experienced. After the celebration of the fact that we had good blood under the tree, and all the team’s hard work had come together for the opportunity alone, we knew we had to go to work. With just a sliver of moon to illuminate our efforts, we had to rely on the flashlights we’d brought in preparation for just such an event.
I pushed a couple of buttons on the Smithson mounts and slid the Leupold off the receiver of the
