It's the territory of phantoms. Scrub- and woodland flank narrow
rivers that wind for kilometres through the African savannah. The gallery forests
of the Serengeti. These shadowy thickets next to
the open, burning plain ... ... offer unlimited niches
for rich animal life. This is the domain of a leopardess. In her realm she might be almost
invisible for days ... ... appearing out of nowhere,
to claim her tribute. For some denizens of the forest
she means - sudden death. Moving like a shadow ... ... she is the secret queen
of the gallery forest. The coolest time of day.
Just before sunrise. The leopardess has left
the bushland, for a few minutes of peace. Something her cub, playful at five
months like all young cats, is determined to interrupt. We are on the edge of a gallery
forest in the northern Serengeti. During the night the leopardess
hunted down a young eland. After her dawn rest she carries
the remains to safety. It's not easy to drag
a heavy weight between spindly olive branches. But they're the only trees here,
and every kill has to be protected. That's why leopards always prefer
areas with at least a few trees. And it soon becomes clear why
precautions are necessary. Job done, she descends ... ... leaving him to eat. But as so often with leopard cubs,
inexperience tells. He's grounded his breakfast. His mother's used to it,
and calmly serves herself. But her attention is distracted. This could get tricky
for the cub, too ... The cats don't realize the danger
till the last moment. This time it's higher in the tree
with more branches to brace it. The boy was lucky too ... ... and after half an hour his
mother feels safe to come down. The way down is head-first as ever. Now, in June, the brooks still
have plenty of water. But the grasslands beyond the thick
bushes will soon dry out. So this forest offers more than
cover: it attracts animals. From the largest ... ... to small, secretive ones
like this steenbok, that loves the nourishing buds
and soft leaves it finds here in abundance. There's the cautious bushbuck, spending most of its time
motionless in the undergrowth. A dik-dik hides in the shade,
all senses alert. But it needn't fear this hunter: the serval specialises in birds,
rats and insects. Though baby gazelles are sometimes
on the menu. A fully grown reedbuck is well
beyond its reach. But it still keeps an eye
on the mini-predator. There's plenty of prey in the grass
for this slender hunter. The reedbucks are not in danger.
But a predator is a predator! Another family is on the hunt ... ... alerted by the leaping serval. It's a caracal mother
with her young. This small, shy wild cat
with lynx-like ear tufts also prefers birds. The broken terrain,
and high species diversity, offer leopards excellent
hunting opportunities in the gallery forests. But any turn in the river can
reveal their feline arch enemies - lions. And any chance they get,
they'll attack a leopard. Leopard young are most at risk. But as long as his mother's with
him, he's most likely safe. There's plenty of time
for play-fighting. He needs the training, and she
seems to enjoy it - up to a point. But when she goes hunting, he must stay behind. A cub would just get in the way. Leopard territories in the
Northern Serengeti, stretching alongside
the brooks and rivers, are mostly smaller than
20 square kilometres. But being so narrow, they reach
far along the river. The leopardess will cover great
distances in her search for prey. Leopards hunt by day and by night, just like lions. And when she has young to feed,
there's little time for resting. In the late morning she moves off, patrolling areas she has abandoned
for some days. Soon she has spotted dik-diks. These shy little browsers live in
pairs, in small territories. Their senses are just as sharp as
the leopardess's. Any strange scent or
unexpected bird-call instantly attracts their attention. The thicket has multiple eyes and
ears to announce any predator - like a single great alarm system. She can't afford to let
any opportunity go by. But this time the warning worked. With so many animals on watch
it might be wiser to hunt at night. But the prey is easier
to find in daytime. Above her, Nubian woodpeckers
have chiselled a nest-hole, and are busy feeding their chicks. The birds don't interest her, but their tree could be
an excellent lookout point. The climb was worth it. Down beside the brook
she spots a reedbuck. No rush: reedbucks stay in place till they
sense the danger is past - or until it gets too close. But once they're spotted, this response can play into
the hunter's hands. Hugging the edge, skimming the shadows, she takes a long detour. For several minutes she'll
lose sight of her prey. But she has every reason to believe
that when she gets within range, it'll still be there. Unfortunately, the last stretch
would take her through water. A further detour. The reedbuck has sensed something. The vast majority of hunts
end in failure. But there's no sign of frustration.
And no question of giving up. The border between bush
and grassland creates many ecological niches. With abundant drinking water, these
are especially desirable habitats for many of the leopard's
prey animals. Impala antelopes eat grass
as well as leaves. Typical edge dwellers, they're at home both in the bush
and in grassland. They don't try to hide in the
thicket like other herbivores: instead females gather in herds
of up to a hundred. Impalas and leopards have regular
encounters close to the streams. But in the daytime, the big herds are a tough
proposition for the leopardess: too many eyes and ears. So the leopardess scans
for alternatives. Thomson's gazelles are among the
swiftest animals on the savannah. They prefer open habitats and rely
on speed in case of trouble. Leopards can't match their sprints. But when conditions are right,
she'll rise to the challenge. First she needs a good starting
position on the edge of the bush. One that offers cover
as long as possible. Now, it's all about timing
and patience. She'll wait until all the Tommies
are distracted. A gentle dip and a couple of
isolated bushes are all the cover she needs now. Most grazers have virtually
all-round vision. They're very sensitive to movement. Keeping all the gazelles
under observation, she moves in, step by step,
only when they are distracted. A stalk like this can last
for 30 minutes or more. The slightest mistake will
ruin her efforts. Finally, she's close enough - and all heads are down. The lashing hooves could deliver
a nasty blow. But she knows how to
deal with them. Attacks like these come
out of the blue for the herbivores near the brook. For the next few days, mother
and son will be well fed. She won't come back here soon, to give the prey time to forget
the trauma and settle. A week later the leopardess is
once more out with her son. He will soon know her territory
as well as his mother does. Protecting their young is a continuing challenge
for leopard mothers. She has learned one solution
from her own mother. Put him in an abandoned
warthog-hole. She has several such hiding
places in her territory. So wherever she goes hunting,
there's a safe haven nearby. The francolin is
a harmless neighbour. But you never know what might
turn up in the thickets. On his own he's not too keen,
to stroll far. A shady place next to the shelter
is all he needs. By now, in August, many of the
side streams have dried up. But these forays are still
worthwhile for the huntress. She knows where the water is. The open savannah is hot,
dry and hard. The grass has been chewed short, offering little nourishment
for these giants. The gallery forest beckons,
with shadow, and juicy leaves, and the last sources
of running water. The heat seems to be getting
to the pachyderms. Even the secretary bird
has to dash out of the way. The vibrations and the noise
can be scary for a little leopard. It's good to have
the warthog-hole nearby. His mother isn't worried
about the elephants. She's fixed on something else. Two steenboks grazing close by. In the dry season these little
antelopes often come into the bush. They too are in search of
juicy leaves. But the presence of the elephants
makes the steenboks extra aware and gives the leopardess away. Further effort would be
a waste of time. She won't catch them off guard now. Best to start again somewhere else. Like a shadow she moves to another
part of her territory where she hasn't been seen
for some time. Always looking for prey
unaware of her presence. This freshening wind may help her,
waving branches conceal movement; rustling leaves drown out
other sounds. And scents travel further. She's got wind of a reedbuck. Hard to find between
the dancing leaves. She lurks for minutes -
all senses straining. Only when the buck gets up,
can she see it. She doesn't even try
to follow through. The chance is gone. But she won't give up. There's plenty of other prey
in the bushland. And there's a cub,
waiting by his warthog hole. All morning she goes about
her daily business: a movement, a swirl of air - the presence of prey. She's down low - ready to strike. But any wrong movement
can give her away, since she has no visual contact. She mustn't stay away too long. With an impatient son. Time is gnawing at him. Early that afternoon
she sets out again. Like a ghost, without a sound,
searching the bush metre by metre. In this thicket, hunter and hunted can miss each other by centimetres. At last! Hours of work have brought
just a tidbit that she'll share with her son. For a leopard big prey
is the exception - and this is the rule. The son seems more delighted
by his mother ... than by her gift! But now ... he can play-practise his own hunt! Young leopards rarely see
their mother hunt. That means they can't copy
her behaviour. So his reactions
are purely instinctive. And those instincts clearly direct
his bite to the right place. By the end of September there's
little water left anywhere. Everything slows down. The leathery leaves of the ebony
bushes still shine a deep green But the brooks and pools are dry. Just a little grass is left. Time to move, to another
part of her territory. The family take a short-cut across
open grassland to a distant brook This country is empty,
bald and brown. Without cover, it's not ideal
for hunting! But it might serve ... ... for hunting practice! If only the real thing
was so playfully easy. Out here they're vulnerable. That suits the leopardess
not at all. Above all, she doesn't want to
encounter a lion, with her son in tow. Perhaps he senses, she's unsure. She spots a wart-hog hole
and routinely checks it out for a vulnerable piglet, or
its usefulness as a bolt-hole. The family that used this one,
is away. After a tiring walk they come to
a small side valley. Where there's still a trickle
of water and some fresh grass. In places the trees meet
overhead in a canopy. That's where the gallery
earns its name. In the twilight a pied kingfisher
seeks out the fish that have gathered in
the last few pools. The leopardess hasn't visited
this spot for months. She must get her bearings, and she must make sure there are
no unpleasant surprises. The sounds of fishing waterbirds tell her, this is
a healthy habitat. But other leopards - or lions - could have taken over
in her absence. So she carefully scans for
tell-tale scent marks. Exhausted by the long trek,
her cub needs rest. His mother needs to find him
a hiding-place so she can carry on hunting. She's quite happy to take over
this burrow from its rightful owners. With the boy settled,
she can go on her way. What can this part of
her territory offer? Vultures are proof that
food is nearby. However, there can be
unwanted side effects. It depends who else is here ... This needs a closer look. A leopard won't reject
others' leftovers. But she's always on her guard
against hyenas and lions, So she won't expose
her son to danger. The vultures have done a good job
on the zebra, but there's enough left. Unfortunately, the big carcass is
too heavy to be hauled up a tree. She doesn't mind vultures
or jackals. But there might be bigger,
unwelcome guests. So she takes in some fast food, nervously peering
over her shoulder. In October the first warthog litters are born Especially sensitive
to heat and cold, these babies now seek
their mother's shade. Over their first days, they spend
only minutes outside the burrows. This mother has chosen
zebras for neighbours, because, being taller, they are
better at spotting predators. But piglets can be annoying - and can get injured. So they should all keep a
respectful distance. As their mother makes
abundantly clear! For the leopardess, the arrival
of the piglets is an important signal. These new families will be helpful
to her family. A leopardess can't challenge
a warthog mother. And on the open savannah she has no real chance of getting
close to the young. Females don't take their baby
piglets far from the burrows ... ... so they can escape in a second
if trouble is brewing. A fully-grown warthog is a
formidable adversary. Leopards will avoid the sharp tusks
that can even beat off a lion. As the sun beats down
the young soon get too hot. Unable to regulate
their body temperature, they must return to the shady
burrow as soon as possible. With their attentive mother
never far from their side, there's nothing here
for the leopardess. But then chance lends a hand. The first babies of the season stir a lot of excitement
among the warthogs. With so many hogs together, too much curiosity can result in
violent defensive action from the mothers. Suddenly warthogs are chasing
each other everywhere - piglets have been killed
in such turmoil. Despite its mother
fighting furiously, this piglet has to run
for its life! It just makes it into the cover
of the bushland. This is a chance for
the leopardess - if she gets to the piglet first,
before the mother finds it. But she should avoid
the bad-tempered hogs. Unfortunately, the good grass has lured many of
them to the edge of the forest. There's no fooling around
with this lady. It's hard to say,
who's more stressed. Just this second the piglet
shows itself briefly. Back to hunting mode! The young one has left the bush
looking for mama. She must hurry now. But the little one is already back
with its mother. Not so easy now. But this time the leopardess
won't give up. Perhaps this is an inexperienced
mother, and could make a mistake. It's still early afternoon. Sometimes females leave their young
unprotected in their burrows when they go for an evening graze. So, there's hope yet. This has been a busy
and tiring day. Mother and piglet withdraw
for a well-earned rest. Once more, her hard work
went unrewarded - As so often when big cats hunt. A few weeks later. It's the short rainy season
at the end of October, and the grass is back
- in lashings. Herbivores can build up
their stamina and replenish their reserves. The rivers have filled up. Hippos have walked for kilometres
to reach these steaming pools. But it's a season of conflict
for warthogs. Nights in the highlands
can be very cold and mothers fight over holes
for their young. One will frequently try
to dislodge another. Without a safe hideaway, piglets can die of cold in these
chilly, rainy weeks. The holes become important meeting
points for the hogs ... And that presents fresh
opportunities for the leopardess. But there's no hurry. This is going to be a lucky dip. For weeks, grey clouds hang
over the highlands. Most days bring cold showers. The Leopardess takes the bad
weather in her stride, watching the mother warthogs
struggle to find shelter for their young. Warthogs don't have
permanent burrows, and now the competition for holes
is at its most intense: because the young of the previous
litter need accommodation too. Damp days are good days
for the huntress. She just has to find the right
burrow at the right time. This family group is still
looking for a hole, but the piglets are too well
protected by the adults. The rain has stopped. In the strong wind, a number of grazing mothers have
left their young in the burrows. But there are so many holes! And not every warthog
has left the field! An encounter with a tough hog
like this could end painfully! When it gets warmer, she'll have less chance of finding
an unprotected piglet. It's becoming a race against time
to check out all the possibilities. Each check is brief. Nothing here. Move on ... And finally: a warthog mother has abandoned
her young for too long. Now the leopardess must make sure
that the mother doesn't catch her! A disaster for the warthog family, is a couple of days' food for
the leopardess and her cub. It's a long trek back to her son, as he waits patiently in the
undergrowth beside the brook ... ... on another wet and
cold afternoon. But the downpours make
the grass grow - and that's why the warthogs give
birth at this inclement time. The young leopard doesn't mind
the weather - he's fine with the all the prey
mom brings home ... Unlike herbivores, the great predators have no fixed
season to give birth. Many cubs die young, so mothers can't afford to wait
for the next rainy season. They'll mate again
as soon as they can. For herbivores, on the other hand, a steady food supply
is more important - even if their young suffer
from the cold. Once a leopard cub is past
the first few months of life, even a deluge doesn't lower his
body temperature enough to harm him. She's relaxed: her son is safe And new-born herbivores will make
for easy hunting in the coming weeks. Mother and son now disappear
for months ... ... in the dense, green
gallery forest. Invisible phantoms
of the woodlands. But the adventure continues. The leopard family
face hard times ... ... and perilous encounters. The family grows larger ... ... and the older son must make
a long and dangerous journey to adulthood.
