THE LEOPARD.
The Leopard is smaller and more active than the Tiger and larger than the Panther. It is arboreal in its habits and finds in the spots or rosettes which decorate its tawny skin a provision highly favorable to concealment among the foliage, wherein it lurks, until some passing animal approaches sufficiently near to enable it to spring upon its unsuspecting prey.
The activity of the Leopard is almost beyond belief. Mr. Andersson, speaking of his Dogs, says: “They were, I conjectured, from their steady, unbroken, deep bay, close upon the haunches of their enemy, yet I could not see distinctly either the Dogs or the object of the pursuit, when all at once a magnificent Leopard sprang right before me, from the topmost branches of a tall acacia, clearing with a single bound all his fierce assailants. I was so astounded at the magnitude of the leap—without having witnessed it one can hardly form a notion of the distance oversprung—that, looking first at the tree, and then at the spot on which the beautiful beast had alighted, I could not withdraw my eyes from the scene of its exploit.”
From the propensity of the Leopard to ascend trees, especially when pursued, it has in India obtained the name of the lackree-bang or Tree-tiger. “Leopards,” says Mr. Williamson, “will not ascend trees which have not some underwood growing near them; their usual haunts are found in those close woods of which the intervals are grown up with thorns, etc., and especially where there are old trees with low boughs, favoring their access to the more shady parts of the foliage.
“The royal Tiger will not touch anything but of its own killing, but Leopards are not quite so fastidious, and may be allured by the scent of meat. I have heard this doubted; but the following fact, which occurred while the corps to which I was then attached was at Hazary-bhang, in the Ram-ghur country, puts the matter out of doubt. The sergeant-major of our battalion had killed an Ox for his winter provision, and had hooked up the joints within his hut, which was on the right flank of the line, close to the grenadier bell of arms. The sentry stationed there gave the alarm that some large animal had entered the hut, in which there were several apartments. A light was brought, and numbers crowded the place, but nothing could be seen for awhile. All were about to retire, when it was discovered that a Leopard was clinging to the thatch with his claws, just above where the meat was hanging. No sooner did the animal perceive that he was discovered than he quitted his hold, springing suddenly down, and darted through the doorway, clawing several as he passed, and giving the poor sentry in particular a scratch in the face which laid him up for several weeks.”
“Nightly,” says Sir W. C. Harris, “may his low half-smothered growl be heard as he prowls round the fold; and in spite of the baying troops of Watch Dogs that are maintained for the protection of the flock, he not unfrequently contrives to purloin mutton. Viewed in his wild state, few animals can surpass the lurking Leopard in point of beauty, his brilliant orange and white skin, which shines like silk, being richly studded with open rosettes, sometimes of the most intense sable, at others disposed as if a Cat had been walking over him with her paws tarred. Nor is he less distinguished for elegance and grace. His every motion easy and flexible in the highest degree, he bounds among the rocks and woods with an agility truly amazing; now stealing along the ground with the silence of a Snake—now crouching with his fore-paws extended, and his spotted head laid between them, while his chequered tail twitches impatiently, and his pale eyes glare mischievously upon his unsuspecting victim.”