There is nothing more exhilarating than being able to follow a leopard and feel a part of their journey through the bush.

Whether they’re simply on the move, or even better - on the hunt - they are the epitome of the silent assassin. Stealth is the name of the game.

With silent foot fall she moves effortlessly through the thickets. She takes a moment to listen but soon moves swiftly along.

Her tail twitches from side to side, she is thinking. I switch off the engine of my safari vehicle to observe her thought process. She disappears, momentarily. A short sharp squeal cuts through the stillness of the bush. She reappears, eyes wide, successful. Hanging in the jaws of this stealthy creature swings a baby duiker, desperately fighting for release.

She stands her ground. Only seconds pass before everything is still.

I’m in awe of her strength and power and I marvel at how incredible these animals are. Her approach seemed, effortless, nonchalant.

She was now on the move. I knew exactly where she intended to go with the new kill. Straight to her cub.

I’m determined to keep up with her, as I know there may be a possibility to have a glimpse of her cub, who has not been regularly seen over the last 6 months.

She is still ever cautious and aware. She drops to her belly in the drainage. I immediately stop the vehicle and trust her instincts.

Hyena, head held high and searching the air for anything that may peak his interest. She doesn’t move, I hold my breath as the tension rises. He moves on without noticing her. I even lose sight of her. Her dappled coat allows her to melt into the surround vegetation, seemingly invisible.

She has a quick look around to ensure the coast is clear, and she is on the move. Her pace increases with determination as she closes in on the dense thicket in the safety of Little Bush Camp.

This skilled killer has successfully made it to her destination.

She releases her grip on the small duiker and chuffs for her little one. She has kept her in the confines of Little Bush Camp, safe and undetected.

Her little one comes bounding out the bushes, thrilled by the return of her mother. I lose sight of them as they head into the drainage line together. I can now only hear them rolling around, playing in the leaves.

An hour or so passes before I decide to head to the back of the lodge. Just before I start the vehicle, I hear her calling for her little one. I continued to the back of the lodge where I find her emerging from the back entrance of the kitchen.

Her calls are pressing and urgent. She must be calling the cub to take her to the kill. Play time is over.

I hear rustling in the Boma area. I drive forward a little bit. I grab my binoculars and on closer inspection I find the cub playing in the leaves. She rolls back and forth, pouncing and attacking the stray leaves that fly away.

Her skills are not as sharp and precise as her mother's, just yet. But her leaf hunting antics are a start.

Mom calls again, her tussling stops. She curiously peaks her head around the corner of the Boma entrance sensing my presence.

Her attention soon finds her mother and she hurriedly makes her way toward her. They walk side by side toward the kitchen, making their way to the main lodge.

I smile knowing this is the last view of them for the day, we have often joked that Little Bush Camp is the Bermuda Triangle and once she ventures into the riverbed, she simply disappears.

What an exhilarating afternoon. A special moment indeed.