Searching for Black Ears
In the animal popularity charts the big cats are always amongst the most favourite. In a recent comment about his forthcoming new big cat picture, David remarked that he adores them and can’t understand why anybody wouldn’t. Certainly many are beautiful, as well as being cunning and ferocious which gets them considerable respect. In terms of subjects drawn over his career, David has, in my opinion, produced some of his best work when drawing lions, tigers and the other big cat species. Yet, the feline family tree has over forty fantastic cat species, varying in size from the tiny Rusty spotted cat, through the more medium sized cats like the Serval, up to those verging on being “Big” like the arboreal Clouded Leopard, which isn’t even a true leopard.
On my travels in Africa it has often been the cat family that I have most enjoyed seeing. All cats tend to be secretive to a degree so seeing any cat species is always a thrill. Their behaviour, often so reminiscent of domestic cats, always establishes a relationship with the observer. Lion, although reducing in numbers, are still the easiest to find, partly because they are social and if you spot one you’ll invariably find others close by. Cheetah are harder, often being loaners that cover a large home range. Leopard are even harder to spot, being secretive and often most active at dawn or dusk. The smaller African cats are harder still. The African wild cat tends again to be active at night and, being small, easily hides amongst vegetation. The Serval and Caracal are the other two one might readily see in Africa as they’re larger but sighting them is opportunistic and in over twenty safaris I hadn’t seen either.
Consequently, it was with more than a little excitement, that I read that my favourite Wildlife Tourist firm was running a trip to the Eastern Cape in South Africa to target caracal. These cats are truly beautiful. They are up to a metre in length, stocky with dark backed ears with terminal tufts. Their name comes from the Turkish for black ears. They vary in colour in the sub species from tawny brown, through rich red to an almost sandy yellow, depending upon their habitat. They can be found in a variety of habitats, are often nocturnal, and tend to hunt rodents or birds. They are extremely athletic and are quite capable of leaping over three metres into the air in order to bring down birds in flight.
That’s how I ended up in the Eastern Cape at Kariega Reserve in October 2024 hoping to see and photograph caracal. Kariega is a success story of rewilding and has been known as a hot spot for this cat for several years. Plenty of prey in a protected area has meant that caracal have thrived and become more visible. A very different situation to other areas of S.A. where it is still hunted by farmers, who view it as a pest, and where it is therefore extremely wary and elusive. Expectations were high with a female’s home range being known but also the prospect of seeing one almost anywhere.
For two days we quartered the home range of that particular female from 5 a.m. as the sun came up and again, later in the afternoon, before the sun set. The result, nothing. Then, in the second afternoon, whilst driving up a steep slope on another part of the reserve a tawny brown blur hurtled across the front of our vehicle. The guide and myself looked at each other, said “Caracal” and went in pursuit. The top of the slope was thick brush. We tried to penetrate it but couldn’t. The caracal had gone. My spirits sank. Was this what it was going to be like? In fairness, nobody had said spotting and photographing a caracal, even in a hot spot, was going to be easy.
The next day we were out again by 5 a.m. this time searching a flood plain area consisting of a mixture of almost heather type plants and bushes including acacia. It was supposed to be an area sometimes frequented by a caracal who hunted vlei rats. Our two vehicles split up and again we quartered the ground. We progressed slowly, in radio contact and checking each larger bush from all sides. A caracal could easily be hidden underneath. After about fifty minutes we had unsuccessfully explored the area. Was it worth giving it another go? Why not! We started again and within ten minutes had discovered a young female emerging from under a bush. Cameras went into multi burst. Would she stay or go? She started to move in hunting mode, only affording us one look of distaste. Slowly we followed her. Occasionally we lost her in longer vegetation but somehow we kept finding her again. We witnessed all aspects of behaviour from stalking, listening, catching, devouring a rat and cleaning herself. After forty odd minutes and hundreds of shots we left her in peace. Mission absolutely achieved with even our very experienced guide saying he’d never had a better encounter with a caracal. We were ecstatic.
We repeated our efforts early the next day and found her within a few minutes, walking up a track in the same area. Again, apart from an initial hiss, she tolerated our presence as she went about finding breakfast. We felt very blessed to have had two such amazing encounters. But our meetings with her had one more twist. Two days later in the afternoon, a mile from the original encounters, we had a radio call from a guide saying that a caracal had just crossed their path whilst they were heading for a rhino sighting. We hurried to the area where I somehow spotted her yet again. We knew it was the same caracal as she had a prominent tick on the side of her face. With a high wind that obviously unsettled her she found refuge in the shelter of a low thorny bush and just sat there looking at us. Having got yet more shots of her we left her for a final time. We agreed that our sightings had been superb, once in a lifetime, and that we would be extremely fortunate to ever see one like her again. Now all I’ve got to do is edit the hundreds of shots of her, find a co-operative serval to photograph somewhere else and perhaps muse on what species David’s next cat drawing might be.
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