Leading expeditions in Mongolia

It is early morning and I see clouds in the distance above the peaks of the jagged mountains around me. They sit heavier than yesterday and I think my view of the valley will be obstructed soon. With loaded cloud cover and fog, I am happy to be more active as my thick coat won't be such an impediment to movement during these hot days of late August.

As the fog rolls in and out, I am perplexed by strange colours across the rocky slopes. I have been here for 6 years and this is the first I see such reds, blues, and shades of green, grey, black, and brown. They are not the colours of the land that I am used to. I hope my cubs are safe in the den as I move about to defend my recent kill. I will keep a watchful eye on those puzzling figures across the way, though I am not sure what I will do if they come any closer.

I hear the sounds of diverse figures as they move about awkwardly on their side of the mountain. I can tell they are not built for this landscape. They appear flesh-like, but only in parts. The rest of their bodies appear smooth, as if they once had fur but now have a different type of layer over their bodies. I cannot make sense of what is on their bodies; some seem to have more protective layers than others. Some seem to have defenses and some seem to have odd shaped covers on their heads. I am not sure yet if they pose a threat to my home range, and I don't like that they are in my core area but I will wait and see what they do.

I see more clearly when the fog is lifted, and I can see right across to those figures. They appear to be looking back at me. My cubs are now well-hidden as I told them to stay put until I return. They are used to that by now even though they are only 2 months old. Soon I will teach them to hunt for ibex and Argali sheep in these areas. In 16 months, they will be on their own to find their way. I will know where they will settle as they will mark their preferred habitats through scrapes and sprays from their scent glands. There are not too many of us around anymore, many of our kind have not been able to find suitable areas to settle as we have lost a lot to a changing world that I have yet to make sense of.

I seem to remember my mother telling me of tales of strange figures searching for us. I wonder if these are those figures that she warned me about. I wish I listened more intently to the tales as I can't seem to remember what she advised me to do if I encounter them in closer proximity. I do recall that she said some of them seek out my fur and bones for some kind of ridiculous use. I also recall she warned me about making a kill of their animals they sometimes walk with.

If I seek out one of those smaller goats or sheep, I will likely be killed in return since those figures can be vengeful. I wonder if those figures across the valley now think I am responsible for loss of their domestic animals. I am sure now that they are only here to watch me intently as I lay in the shade of my marked rock.

It is now mid-morning, I can still hear those figures but I can no longer seem them. The fog has blanketed my valley and I can barely see down below. I hope the figures leave soon as I see rain in the distance and I will head for shelter with my pups. I will not be able to survey the landscape and keep a tally on their movements.

The next day is sunny and clear. I encourage my pups to follow me to my kill that I protect from the abundant black-eared kites and occasional vulture. I am sure they and any grey wolves nearby would enjoy their share but I cannot yet extend that courtesy until my pups have had their own.

It is late morning and I see those colorful inept figures again across the valley in the exact area as yesterday. They are keen on observing us, and I can assume they mean us no harm as they are obviously present. Any predator of sound mind would not be so inconspicuous. I wonder if they mean us well. Perhaps I should err on the side of caution, but I can't help myself from laughing at their slow bumbling movements across the steep terrain that I am so comfortable leaping and bounding across.

The colorful figures have broken up into two uneven groups. I notice the larger group has come closer to me and the smaller group remains put across the valley. The larger group is positioned just beneath me and their high pitched sounds echo up to me. It doesn't hurt my ears to hear them but they drown out the sounds of the winds whispering to the mountains carrying secrets of Mongolian proverbs.

I choose to test these figures that remain below me. They seem to watch me as I move about the shadows of the rocks. Their sounds reach new highs every time I move. I wonder what could be so interesting. As long as they remain distant from my kill and pups, I will remain tolerant. Perhaps they are learning something about me to take back to their fellow mates in other areas to help conserve the lands that my young will be dependent on. I cannot roar down to them to keep their distance as my anatomy has not evolved that way like my feline cousins. But I can certainly show my metre long body and nearly as long tail as I display my skills of agility.

I realize I am not sure they know who I am and perhaps that is what they are doing here. We share the commonality of fascination in observing each other. If I could talk to them I would tell them I am not the Yeti, nor the Sasquatch. I am the Snow Leopard of the Altai Mountains of Mongolia. I may be elusive, I may be secretive, but to search for me is not futile.

Snow leopard by Joan Poor, Aug. 28, 2014. Mongolia.