No. V · January · mmxxviYala
The leopard'swindow.
6 min read
Yala · block one
An hour of rain in Yala, a tracker who would not move the jeep, and the long pause that ended in a single quiet animal at the water's edge.
Sunil parked the jeep at four-forty and switched the engine off. We asked, quietly, what we were waiting for. He said only, an hour. The rain began at five. It was the heavy sort of rain that lifts the dust into a smell of iron and wet stone and makes the birds start a second time.
By five-forty the rain stopped and the light in the dry brush turned gold. Sunil had not moved. He pointed once, with his chin, to a low rock at the edge of the water-hole. There was nothing on it. We waited.
At six-twelve a leopard walked out of the long grass, drank for two minutes, looked once at us, and was gone. We had seen, perhaps, ninety seconds of the animal. Sunil had given us an hour of waiting and a small chance of nothing, and the trade was the most generous one of the week.
The cost of patience is the only cost worth paying in this park. We do not pretend otherwise to our guests.
Filed from Yala · block one, on .