Lessons of the Hunt National Geographic

A mother leopard can teach her cub many things about surviving in Botswana's Okavango Delta. But some skills a cub must pick up on her own-often through life-threatening experiences.

A Mother’s Touch: When Legadema was only a few days old, her mother spent as much time with her as possible. Those first few days may be critical for any young animal to imprint on the smell and look of its mother, even though leopards become independent surprisingly quickly. These are solitary cats, which you can sense from the very beginning.

At ten days old, Legadema found the complex tunnels inside a giant sausage tree (Kigelia africana) in Botswana's Moremi Game Reserve a wonderland to explore-and a safe place to experiment with the early stages of independence from her mother.

As they patrolled their territory in Mombo and hunted together, Legadema seemed a mirror image of her mother. The two formed a strong bond during the first year, sometimes playing like siblings.

Scrambling to save her from a 60-foot (20 meters) fall during horseplay, Legadema's mother wrestled the cub back onto a branch- a tricky maneuver for an animal equipped only with teeth, claws, and determination.

Legadema's boisterous energy often got her into trouble with her mother. A quick reprimand of violently flashed teeth was enough to calm her down, and the two resumed their tightly bonded relationship.

When Legadema was five months old, her mother brought her a live baby impala.

Legadema wasn't sure what to do with the live baby impala her mother brought her, at first playing inquisitively, then attacking ineffectually. Her mother guided her tolerantly through every step of the kill, until at last Legadema learned that living animals can become a meal.

Having honed her predator skills, Legadema turned her attention to squirrels, becoming almost obsessed with dizzying and deadly games of hide-and-seek. Over time, she grew adept, killing hundreds of squirrels as well as such larger prey as baby warthogs.

It was the perfect hunt-stalk, conceal, and leap through the air over the tall summer grass-even if it was only for her mother's tail.

Despite her deep fear of baboons, Legadema one day killed an adult female. When she discovered a newborn clinging to the baboon mother's fur, the situation took a bizarre turn. The tiny baboon innocently reached out to Legadema, accepting her as its new mother. Legadema initially seemed confused, but for the next four hours, she watched over the baby baboon.

After playing with an orphaned baby baboon, Legadema then groomed it and gently carried it to safer branches higher in the tree whenever the baby cried.

Legadema and the baby baboon cuddled together and went to sleep. Was Legadema feeling early maternal instincts? Before the night was over, the cold claimed the life of the helpless infant, and Legadema left the baby to resume her role as predator, feeding on the mother baboon's body.

Growing more independent, Legadema was preparing for the day when she would stake her own claim in the forest. But the six-month-old, right, still seemed reassured by the touch of her mother's tail.

At 13 months old-still an adolescent-Legadema got into a spat with her mother that escalated into a permanent rift. The cause: Legadema's refusal to share a kill. Although tension between the two had been building for some time, the young leopard was now demonstrating her independence, and her mother drove her away. Legadema shared a part of her mother's territory for a while but later she established her own territory, moving like a ghost through the forest.

Late last year, at age three and a half, Legadema mated. If she and her young stay within Moremi, they will be safe from harm by humans. But elsewhere in Africa leopards are not as fortunate. Some 2,500 a year are permitted to be shot by hunters, and at least as many are killed by poachers. As conflicts with people and livestock continue, fewer and fewer leopards are likely to enjoy a life as free as young Legadema's.