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.”