As Cobus advanced, he heard a heavy exhalation from the brush nearby. He paused and glanced out the corner of his eye to see a leopard on a head-high rock five meters away. It crouched as it watched Cobus. The cat issued a low, guttural snarl, eyes pinned to its human prey.

Cobus slowly shouldered his rifle, cautious not to make any sudden moves that might trigger the leopard’s predatory instinct. Just last month, a leopard this size had mauled a ranger in a nearby section of the park. Cobus continued forward, rolling from heel to toe with each step to minimize his sound signature as he tried to put distance between himself and the predator. Cobus had never shot anything with more than two legs, but he was willing to drop the hammer on one of the animals in his care if his life hung in the balance. He was far too young, with a lifetime of conservation work in front of him, to go out as a big cat’s afternoon meal.

Behind Cobus, Basani also had her rifle trained on the regal creature, ready to end its life if it decided to attack Cobus.

Lawrence pulled rear security as they moved past, keeping his rifle sights glued to the leopard. But just when it seemed ready to let them pass without incident, it rose and began to follow. Lawrence tried to back away, but the leopard kept pace with him.

Cobus watched over his shoulder. His friend had sacrificed much for the animals at Kruger: his home, his family, his safety. And he worried that Lawrence might not put his own safety first if it came down to a kill-or-be-killed situation.

Lawrence stopped, then raised both arms in the air, making himself as big as possible. It was what the rangers told the tourists to do to discourage wild cats if they should encounter one, but by taking his weapon off the target, Lawrence was also betting his own life on a tactic that had a mixed track record. The survival protocol also called for people to shout and make as much noise as possible, but whoever had left the cigarette butts in the dirt was somewhere nearby. Giving up their position by shouting could get his whole team killed by poachers.

Lawrence stood, silently waving his arms like an excited airport groundcrew member as the leopard watched him. Snarling, it recoiled onto its hind legs, then turned its back and slunk off into the bush.

Cobus nodded to Lawrence, impressed by his deft handling of the situation.

The temperature rose as the rangers made their way toward the Mozambique border. It was the peak of the dry season in Mozambique, which meant it was also peak poaching season. When it rained in Mozambique, much of the population took to farming, but when the rains dried up, the Mozambicans were compelled to find other sources of income. Meanwhile, the lack of water in Kruger forced the larger animals to gather around the few remaining water holes in much greater density, making them easier to locate and kill. All the rangers were aware of this grim fact and carried extra magazines for their rifles.