Death in the Morning: Cheetah versus Thomson’s Gazelle

In the wilderness, the cheetah and the Thomson's gazelle share an electrifying predator­–prey relationship. As the fastest land animal, the cheetah can sprint at astonishing speeds of up to 70 miles per hour in short, explosive bursts. The gazelle, on the other hand, is adapted for escape, boasting a slender and agile body structure that helps it navigate through challenging terrains and effortlessly leap over obstacles.

As a wildlife photographer, I frequently visit wildlife national parks, and one of my dreams has been to capture the thrilling spectacle of a cheetah hunting a Thomson’s gazelle. During one such trip to Masai Mara National Reserve in Kenya, our guide, Simon, got information that there was a chance to witness this thrilling event in a nearby location—a cheetah, accompanied by four cubs, was prowling the area. This was exciting news, as female cheetahs with young cubs often made daily kills to provide for their offspring.

The next morning, under the backdrop of a clear morning sky, our group set out for the destination. Our minds were filled with the anticipation of capturing Africa's most enchanting moments.

As we drove through the savanna, the landscape unfolded before us like live paintings. Herds of antelopes were grazing, and zebras were trotting here and there. The air was filled with the rich scents of the wilderness, and the gentle morning sunlight cast a golden hue over everything.

Amidst these spectacular scenes, a Thomson’s gazelle fawn, not far from its mother, was grazing. It was a serene picture of innocence. The duo was unaware of the imminent danger lurking behind the tall grass.

Simon, who has an uncanny ability to anticipate animal behaviours in the savanna, pointed our attention to a distant figure camouflaged by golden grass—a cheetah. Her eyes were fixed on the oblivious gazelle fawn. Simon’s calm voice broke the silence: “Guys, the cheetah is going to make its move. Get your cameras ready.”

We watched with bated breath as the cheetah began her stealthy move. Her sleek body advanced effortlessly through the savanna, quickly closing the gap between herself and the fawn, which was still engrossed in grazing, blissfully unaware of the impending peril.

Then suddenly, with explosive speed, she charged towards the baby gazelle. The chase was intense but brief. The cheetah swiftly outran her prey and seized it by the throat—a fatal bite. And the fawn yielded to the lethal grip of the cheetah.

With the fawn now lifeless, the cheetah lifted her prize and headed back to the eagerly awaiting cubs. We followed her at a respectful distance, our lenses trained on her as she walked back to the cubs. Upon joining the cubs, the cheetah gently placed the fawn before them. The feast began, and they devoured their meal with relish.

Within mere minutes, all that remained of the graceful gazelle fawn were bones and ragged hide scattered on the ground. Sated, the mother began to meticulously clean her cubs. She licked the blood off their faces with tenderness, ensuring her offspring’s well-being.

As the sun continued its ascent in the African sky, the cheetah family, content and well nourished, found a peaceful refuge beneath the shade of an acacia tree. We left the place, pleased, having witnessed the cycle of life and death in the wild unfold before our very eyes.