Late spring in Kenya’s Masai Mara is a good time for spotting cheetahs, but had my hat not flown out the window we would never have seen them. At the very location we stopped to rescue my cap a mother cheetah and her five cubs were hiding in the line of thick grass a few metres back from the road.

The final minutes of daylight were upon us and at first we only saw the mother, lit yellow by the fading sun. It wasn’t until the cheetah was right alongside our van that we realised she was not alone. Tall grass is even taller for a pint sized cheetah cub, just three months old.

Cubs this young have an extra fluffy mane running down the neck which reminds me of children dressed as grown-ups.

One by one they emerged from the veil of camouflage and headed silently towards us. Not only did they look identical to each other but they moved in harmony as well – the curve of their tails as they slink down low, the haunch of their shoulders and that cat-like bouncing stride were all exactly synchronised.

They gathered next to our van and halted, obeying their mothers command, and stayed put on the spot without wandering so much as a foot in any direction.

Cheetahs in the Masai Mara are very tolerant of cars and cameras. The mother of a litter is usually more annoyed by the incessant playfulness of her cubs than the eaves-dropping of a telephoto lens; safari vehicles are not considered an intrusion, provided they do not crowd or block the cheetah cubs.

The first rule when close in with wildlife is to talk very softly and very little. I feel more comfortable watching a cheetah than to have a cheetah watching me.
Using our vans to hide from her prey the cheetah mom positioned herself ready to strike. A herd of topi were grazing less than 150metres away, unaware of the unfolding drama. Suddenly there was movement.

In the space of just four seconds the adult cheetah launched herself into the chase, ignoring several zebra and impala in her path, and making her attack upon a juvenile topi. An adult with antlers would have been a difficult catch for the cheetah, demanding several minutes of intense exertion to suffocate plus the dangers of being critically gored. But in this case the juvenile was efficiently killed with a lethal bite.

Not all hunting trips are so successful for the cheetah. A longer pursuit can drain the cheetah of her strength and she may lose vital minutes recovering from exhaustion before she can eat. Cheetahs are easily separated from their prey by hyenas or lions and even a persistent pack of vultures can send a cheetah running. In the Masai Mara cheetahs eat less than half of what they catch.

The triumphant cheetah mother wasted little time in calling her cubs over to enjoy their share of the spoils. She released a high pitched cry and guided them to her location; each cub returned the call with vigour and together they ran into the grass and vanished.

Travellers to Kenya’s Masai Mara wanting to experience first hand the sight of a cheetah in the wild usually need a touch of luck. They are low on the feline pecking-order and will go to great lengths to avoid lions and leopards.

By November each year the migrating wildebeest have headed south, taking many predators with them, and the Masai Mara becomes a safer place for young cheetah families. Any organised safari within the park will be aware of where the cheetahs were last spotted and will make every effort to locate them.