The Story of Ahau Akbal - The Life and Times of a Wild Bobcat
All data, text, and images Copyright 2003 Coryi Foundation, Inc.

We are pleased to introduce Ahau Akbal. This is a Mayan name that means "Master of the Night". He was named by our friends, Mauricio and Isabel of Mexico. In our field journal we had given him the designation of Male Bobcat #MSRP (lrf) M10. But such is so impersonal and we'd rather impart to these majestic creatures names that reflect something of their character and persona. While he was alive, Ahau Akbal was truly a Master of the Night. As you will see in the story below, such a name is well suited for this most impressive great cat and we are most grateful that Mauricio and Isabel had endowed this 'Master of the Night' with such a prestigious name.

Above Figures: The skull of 'Master of the Night', M10, Ahau Akbal. Died of unknown cause in 1997. Images of him while alive soon to be added.

Statistics:
(Tracking Period: September 14, 1996 to October 10, 1997)

Physical Data:
Weight at Capture and Radio-Collaring: 27 pounds
Body Length (cm): 106
Tail Length (cm): 18
Hind Foot Length (cm): 19
Ear Length (cm): 6.7
Nose to Eye (cm): 4.8
Neck Circumference (cm): 25
Chest Circumference (cm): 46
Abdominal Circumference (cm): 55
Upper Left Canine Length (cm): 2.2
Upper Right Canine Length (cm): 1.8 (tip broken in fight)
Lower Left Canine Length (cm): 1.5
Lower Right Canine Length (cm): 1.5
Left Fore Pad Width (cm): 3
Right Fore Pad Width (cm): 3
Left Hind Pad Width (cm): 2.3
Right Hind Pad Width (cm): 2.4  

Reproduction:
Sired Kitten: Bobby, #MSRP (lrf) M11
Dam to Bobby via Mating with M10: #MSRP (lrf) F12
Cause of Death: Unknown

Sample Movement Summary (per 24 hour tracking period):
Annual Home Range Size: 4275 acres (6.7 square miles, 17.3 square kilometers)
Average Movement Rate (meters/hour): 415
Average Nocturnal Movement Rate (meters/hour): 496
Average Diurnal Movement Rate (meters/hour): 366
Diurnal/Nocturnal Movement Rate Ratio: 0.74
Average Total Distance Traveled per Day (meters): 8750
Percentage of Time Resting per Day (%): 19
Average Time Resting in Each Spot (hours): 3.0
Maximum Speed of Travel (meters/hour): 1260

Dancing in the Corn Field
By Tim Mallow
Copyright 2001 by Tim Mallow

(Ahau Akbal's Story)

I had been up all night tracking Ahau Akbal across the wet flatwoods and hardwood swamps of the east side of the greater Mallory Swamp of north Florida. This vast region of pines and swamps is considered sheer wilderness because of its wide expanse across the big bend region. So vast and remote is this region, that during the Civil War deserters had sought refuge deep within a part of the swamp. There, the place is called "Deserters Hammock", as delineated on topographic maps. Such a feature and name sort of establishes a cautious tone and mood for this area, and for my experience there.

Twenty-four hours with no sleep, my eyes were straining to stay open. The beeps of Ahau Akbal's radio-collar emanating from the speaker of my tracking receiver contrasted harmoniously with the pre-dawn calls of the whipper whirls. A light ground fog caressed the windows of my Jeep Cherokee 4x4. The sparkling morning stars commanded my attention of the heavens in this amphitheater of life. The scene was most surreal and yet, medieval. I suppose the only reason I didn't fall asleep was because I wanted to meld with the forest, the wildlife, and most importantly, the austere and most majestic object of my focus - Ahau Akbal.

Ahau Akbal had proven himself a capable animal. His home range was huge compared to most other bobcats in my study. His daily travels were far-ranging. At times, I could hardly keep up with his wanderings as I tracked him day and night. Beyond that, he was in fact, a most supreme predator-fighter. The day he was captured rendered up that fact. I capture most of my animals in traps. But during two weeks of September 1996, I used cat hounds and their master from west Texas along with a wildlife veterinarian student from Gainesville, Florida. The master, the most notorious Rowdy McBride, is a man of extreme experience. His forays into the world of nature have included hunts in Siberia where he was tasked to capture Siberian tigers for a joint conservation project conducted by the Russians and Americans. There, he lost one of his hounds to a male tiger that had backtracked the hounds while being pursued. Rowdy and his hounds had also been to South America to capture puma for a similar study. He's also worked for the Florida Game and Fresh Water Fish Commission to capture Florida panthers so biologists could radio-collar them to find out what was needed to save those great cats from extinction. Thus, Rowdy and his hounds were more than capable at helping me with my captures. However, the day Ahau Akbal was captured proved to be a most trying day for one of his hounds.

We started the hunt around 5AM. As Rowdy's four hounds walked along the dirt road, noses to the ground, I sipped on my coffee as I eased my jeep slowly behind them. For whatever reason, the hounds had turned off onto another road. That road took us into a darkened forest, its canopy of tall pines hovering above us like emerald ghosts maintaining a vista that commanded that men pay due reverence to their domain. The trail was grassy, indicating that it was less traveled by man. A ground fog this early morn broiled the dawn light with luminescent volume. All in all, the place was most mysterious. 

All of a sudden, Suzy, the lead hound, bolted into the forest, yelping and barking incessantly. The other three hounds followed her cue. Vehicles came to a halt. I climbed to the roof of my jeep and listened to the echoes of the hounds as they purposed to route their quarry.  Bringing the eyepiece of my scope to my eyes, I strained to see the action in the distance. But all I could see was an occasional tail of a hound as it crossed the grassy trail ahead of us. 

Ahau Akbal was literally taking these hounds for a circuitous trip. We sat back and watched over the course of 45 minutes as he made figure-eight patterns about our vehicles.... back and forth across the trail he'd appear then disappear into the forest. Seconds later the hounds would follow. I felt like I was in the front row of an auditorium and watching a production of Wagner's "Ring of the Nebulung". It was most intense. I got so excited at one point, I jumped off the jeep, with camera in tow to follow the hounds. But Rowdy quickly staved my pursuit to prevent me from distracting his hounds. Reluctantly, I clamored back to the top of my jeep. 

All of sudden, Ahau Akbal made a dash aft of our position and made way for a side trail. We could see his back bounce up and down with his gait as he ran through the tall grasses that lined the side of the trail. The hounds caught wind of his new course and made pursuit and so did Rowdy. The vet student and myself patiently waited to see if this symphony would return to our stage. But the howls and barks of the hounds faded in the distance. 

When Rowdy's hounds are in pursuit of a cat via the mere scent on the ground, the vocalizations they make tend to resemble a series of sharp yelps. When the hounds can see the cat or bay it up a tree or in a thicket, the yelps turn into drawn out howls. After a few minutes of suspense the yelps turned into howls. At that instant, Rowdy had emerged from the side trail and frantically signaled to Mark (the vet student) and myself. We immediately knew what that meant. 

Tempered by experience, Mark and I extracted our capture equipment from the vehicles and ran as fast as we could to where the action had now progressed. Now, the reader does well to know that hauling such equipment a few hundred yards is no walk in the park. All in all, we had 4 medium-sized backpacks, 3 medical cases, a pole syringe, and cameras to tote between the two of us. I remember carrying my load of equipment as I ran through the tall wet grasses that covered the trail. In that sprint, if my sweat had not wetted my clothes, then the morning dew most certainly did. I recall that we ran so fast to where Rowdy and the dogs were that in the excitement, I tripped over my shoelaces which had become untied as they were snagged by the some of the more raspy grasses. 

Anyway, Mark and I knew what was going on - by the time we got to where the dogs were howling, it all became evident that they had bayed the bobcat at the edge of a small water hole adjacent the grassy trail. However, just as we got there, we saw Rowdy bolt immediately to the hole. Things happened so fast I can barely recall the details at that point. But my eyes quickly focused on the cause of Rowdy's concern - Suzy, in her zealousness, had jumped onto the bobcat. Together, feline and canine tumbled into the water hole, which was by my guess, about six feet deep. Both of them disappeared into the murky water - all we could see were the turbulent bubbles of their struggle. Then the bobcat rose to the surface, apparently standing on the hound (which was still underwater) to keep itself above the water. "Oh my gosh!", I shouted, "Suzy is going to drown!"

The cat once again disappeared below the surface. The three of us immediately dived in to separate the two, for fear the one be killed in the process. Floating, swimming, feet barely on the bottom of the water hole, I don't recall. But what I do remember is that our hands groped into the frothy mix not knowing whether we'd latch onto the hound or the most dangerous Ahau Akbal. Confusion was the rule. In a situation like this, one tends to think less of oneself and moreso of the animals under one's charge. For Rowdy, it was the life of his hound Suzy that was of paramount importance. For me, it was Ahau Akbal. 

Now, all things being equal, if a 27 pound adult male bobcat squares off with a 50 pound cat hound mutt, one could reason that it would likely be a close draw. However, given the power and cutting edge of a wild feline's claws and teeth, I'd have to say that the hound would fair the worse of such a confrontation. Let's face it, these cats spend all their days surviving under the most trying circumstances. Those that live to adulthood are generally considered to be the most fit, genetically speaking, to cope with the environmental factors in which they operate. After all, a 27 pound bobcat can bring down a 90 pound deer. Ahau Akbal was in our midst because he was a survivor, genetically superior to the less fit of his kind. Thus, this cat was by no means a walk in the park for any domestic hound. 

And thus, such was how the scene did pan out. Instinctively, Rowdy reached for Suzy. I tended, in my own way and as best as possible, to the bobcat. Pulling her by the scruff, Rowdy brought up from beneath the surface a wet matt of hair, blood, and stupefied expression - Suzy had faired the worse. Her face and head was covered in blood. I think it was at that point that we all realized that Ahau Akbal was more than a match for any hound and that we had bitten off more than we would otherwise care to chew.

Looking about into the water, I saw a trail of bubbles transect away from us toward the far edge of the hole. Soon thereafter, like a Los Angeles class submarine on an emergency ascent, the great cat broke the surface of the water and frantically swam hard to escape his captors. The contrail of his wake added to the turbulence created by the three of us in the mix of hound, man, and cat, generating confusing waves in the aquatic vegetation that lined the hole. Clamoring up the bank, Ahau turned to look back at us, not even bothering to shake himself of the water on his fur.

My attention averting from the fallen mutt, I watched eagerly as the three remaining hounds circumvented the hole to once again route the predator. But this time, weariness and a thick edge of dense shrubs at the far side of the hole worked to our advantage. The hounds bayed the cat relentlessly against the impenetrable wall of briar and fetterbush. Ahau spat and hissed his aggression. The dogs barked and howled back, occasionally one of them launching forward to take a nip. But such was futile as the great feline swiped its razor sharp claws in an explosive outward arc. The hound would back off in turn.

What to do! What to do! Seeing that Rowdy had taken the severely wounded Suzy to the near bank to pull her out of the action, I turned to Mark shouting pressingly and sufficiently to be heard above the mayhem , "Prime 3 cc on the pole syringe, ten percent telazol push. I can get him on a reach from the hole with the dogs on the flanks. He's cornered."  Quickly did Mark fill the syringe with the ketamine mix and mount it to the end of the pole. After wading to him and grabbing the pole, I darted back across the hole. After three steps, I was in water deeper than head high and found myself now swimming with one hand.

Rowdy followed, looking to me curiously when he came astride me near the far edge. "Give me the pole", he sharply commanded. He had to be kidding! "I can do it", I replied reactively and snidely, "I'm in position." The look on his face told me what he was thinking. And I was thinking the same thing. After all this effort and time, each one of us thought to be better than the other in apprehending a cat, and as such, we each considered it our own duty to handle each capture's most critical moment. "Well", I thought to myself, "This is my critical moment. I am in the hot seat and do not intend to give it over to another." Aside from that, this was 'my' cat, 'my' research, and therefore, 'my' show! Rowdy ate the proverbial bullet and watched reluctantly and patiently as I eased gently closer to the very angry and very active animal, a mere four feet from me.

His eyes were bright with a deep amber sheen. His ears flattened, one look at me and he instantaneously spat at me. His breath struck my face with a hot flash of passion and fear. For some strange reason I thought the fragrance to smell pleasantly familiar as that of a girlfriend from my high school days. But then again, it seems all the breaths of my bobcats smell like those of my ex-girlfriends'. 

The dogs kept up their incessant barking, in the mix and throe of action, frequently averting Ahau's attention from me. Standing in the waist deep water steadying my stance on its muddy and unstable bottom, I drew the pole to a ready position and locked my thumb to the dispensing plunger. My heart was racing. This was no spear, and I was not a Masai warrior about to take a lion. Yet, my adrenalin surged. Despite the technological dominance of this study with all our high tech tracking equipment and advanced medical gear, this moment was one of pure art. I had one shot and it had to be precise to the haunch; for any slight deviation from the muscular target could land the needle deeply impaled into the abdomen just in front of it and possibly into a vital organ. And, it had to be timed to occur in synchronicity with the rotation of Akau's head away from me and to the dogs; for then the penetration of the needle would be unseen by him and the drug could be successfully dispensed. With so many variables, I felt as if I'd be better off donning a blast shield and letting "The Force" guide my 'light-sword'.

I closed my eyes, drew in a breath, then reopened my eyes, drawing down with sheer concentration onto the fleshy thigh. No fancy cross hairs, laser guidance, nor fly by wire acquisition system here; just plain ole savvy 'English' was at hand. The world was closing around me, yet went silent. Oblivious to sight and sounds, I saw my cue. His head rotated, and so then instantly did my arm. The pole catapulted, striking Ahau in the haunch just aft of the crease. In one single motion, I drove the needle deep and depressed the plunger. With explosive reaction to the sting, he bolted toward one of the dogs in the process of trying to flee deeper into the brush. Like a pin ball striking a post, he changed direction in an instant, becoming entangled in a network of vines. 

"I got him", I yelled. Rowdy then moved in to exort more effective control on the dogs. Looking at the syringe, I could see the plunger had been driven all the way down and that the now bent needle was adorned with a drop of the ketamine mix at its tip. I began to breathe easy. Throwing the pole to Mark, I urged him, "Reload please". We had to be ready should the initial dose be insufficient.

Within five minutes, Ahau began to tip in response to the drug. Eventually, he settled to prone and turned on his side into a deep sleep. My critical moment had passed and so did I, with flying colors. We had Ahau, at last!

Suzy... well, she is another story. Truly, this was not a good day for her and she required emergency medical care and numerous stitches. Needless to say, she spent the next few days recovering from her severe head wounds. As for Akau, this was just the beginning of a number of exceptionally close encounters over the course of a year that would apex to one special early morning meeting in a cornfield on the east side of the Mallory Swamp after 24 hours of aggressive and grueling all day and overnight tracking.

MORE TO COME