Jungle Larry gave us an urgent call. One of his black leopards had escaped from his cage at the African Safari, now the Collier County Zoo. Some of the fences were only eight feet high, an easy leap for such a cat. Escape could have deadly consequences since the property was bordered by residential neighborhoods.
We gathered up every available officer, and after raiding the armory, headed to Jungle Larry's, loaded for leopard. Some CCSO Deputies joined us. Once there, Larry gave us a profile of what we were after. This caused some of our hunters, who were used to whacking out animals who couldn't fight back, to have second thoughts about our impromptu safari.
Black leopards, Larry warned, were incredibly dangerous. They liked to leap from trees on their next meal and once on you, owned you. They could run about 35 mph. They were so stealthy, when stalking, they were virtually silent. They could hide in the foliage within inches of their prey and you'd never know it. And if we didn't capture the critter before dark came--it was late afternoon at the time--their black coat would make them invisible.
Larry showed us the leopard's cage, which had been baited with meat and other goodies to try to entice it back in. He again warned us to be very careful. And thus, scared to death, we broke up in three man teams and began a search of the preserve.
Jungle Larry's had been Caribbean Gardens, a botanical show place. A virtual jungle, there were acres of green stuff where the leopard could hide. We headed out on the defined paths, keeping our eyes open and our pucker strings tight. But after a few hours of plodding along, with great trepidation, the cop's perverse sense of humor took over. One of the group would grab a vine hanging from a tree and give it tug, causing the leaves to rustle, terrifying his partners. Another would throw a rock in the underbrush, sending cold chills up backs. Or a joker would make low, growling noises.
One Deputy took a break and, unknowingly leaned up against a lion's cage. The lion roared in protest and the Deputy had extra laundry that week.
It was getting close to dawn and, with no luck, we regrouped near the leopard's cage to decide what to do next. Standing there talking, someone yelled, "Watch out Ken!" Ken Ferrell spun around and faced a snarling black beast charging out of the bushes. Ken leveled his riot gun, and blasted off a round, knocking the leopard butt over bucket. But the cat regained its footing, and streaked for its cage, where Jungle Larry quickly slammed the door.
Ferrell's double 00 buck load had, thank God, stopped the cat in mid-leap. Yet, the cat had run away. You just don't run away from a direct hit from a shotgun loaded with double 00 buck. On close inspection, Larry found two pink skin marks on the leopard's head where pellets had bounced off him. Otherwise he wasn't even scratched. The leopard remained at the zoo for many years and bore the two white skid marks on his beautiful black hide until his death.
We took the shotgun shells to the range and found that at a distance of about 10', Ferrell's range to the cat, there was a hole in the shot pattern. A hole just right for a PO'd black leopard to slip through.
We changed brands of ammo real quick.
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