Three adolescent cheetahs rise from their resting place among a cluster of papery blades of grass. These particular cats are siblings, Girard, our guide, informs us. Very recently parted from their mother, they are young and inexperienced, and very, very vulnerable. We follow them closely as they walk up the road, the jeep's engine purring at barely more than an idle. They are so close that I am able to notice the texture of their fur without the aid of binoculars. Having observed a mother and two cubs the day before, I recognize the telltale fluff around their faces and on the back of their necks, yet their bodies are stringy and lean. Like our cats at home when agitated, their tails flash back and forth as they walk. I worry that the wheels crunching gravel and our whispering behind them are the cause of their departure, but Girard insists that they are "used to the vehicles." They are up to something, he tells us. The siblings are on the prowl.
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