Betty’s Bay – the Leopard and the Baboons
On the way to Betty's Bay for our paragliding adventure (see previous post), Bruce Mortima was telling Brocas Walton and me a bit about that community and their resident wild leopard. Even though the leopard had killed a grown man about two months prior to our little excursion, the townspeople were very protective of this animal, passively obstructing outside attempts to kill it. Well, that gave me pause. All of a sudden, being up in the air sounded even better than before.
Sure enough, when it was Brocas's turn to paraglide, I was sitting at the top of the escarpment, resting from the effort of hauling the parachute back up the cliff – alone – as in by myself – as in bait for the leopard. There was no way either Bruce or Brocas could reach me in time. I was too far up, they were too far down. So much for being in the now. I was definitely transplanted into the future – being mauled by a man-eating leopard.
Then, much to my delight, I saw a troop of baboons – about 30 or 40 of them crossing the very top of the mountain, about a football field away from me. I kept very still so as not to frighten them, enjoying the way they organized the move. Part of my immediate ease was the knowledge that the leopard's food of choice is baboon. So even though I would be an easy dinner, baboon would be a delicious dinner (gospel from the Book of Leopards).
Later, as we were leaving, I was telling Bruce and Brocas about how much safer I felt once I saw the baboons. Bruce grew more white hair as he told me that, actually, baboons find great sport in physically abusing lone women – lone, human-being women.
My learning: Occasionally ignorance is its own protection. I think that is because I wasn't afraid. Fear has a way of attracting predator energy.
My gratitude: For some reason, my life seems charmed, fortunate, lucky, blessed – whatever word is appropriate here. As I look back on my life, even as a child, I seem to have escaped potentially dangerous situations unscathed. I'll bet that if You look, you'll find the same … little situations which could have been devastating, and weren't. (And yes, the opposite is also true – harmless-seeming situations which weren't. Those seem easier to remember, so I'm thinking it's high time to remember those other times – equal opportunity remembrances.)