One morning during September, while walking to Operations at the flight line, on a pathway that led through a narrow dense thicket, to my surprise, a large ape stepped out of the thicket (about 25 feet away) onto the pathway and turned resolutely to face me.  Oddly, there seemed to be no need for hostile action or reason for fright. My thought was to stand still, to see if the confrontation could be peaceful.  I stopped and waited for what might happen next.  Soon, in a single file, eight or nine apes of differing sizes appeared as they crossed the pathway.  Once they crossed, the guardian ape that was watching me, turned and followed after the others.  After waiting about a minute my trek to Operations continued, while pleasantly meditating about the brief encounter.

     One night, lying on my charpoy, and dozing prior to falling asleep, the quiet was interrupted by a crash-bang sound in the room.  My Basha mates had gone on TDY, so the noise was fully unexpected.  Rising up on my left elbow to peer through the mosquito netting around the bed, I heard a coughing growl.  As I looked toward the sound, two almond shaped luminescent green eyes looked back at me.  Instantly remembering a report of a Black Panther in the area the previous day, I deduced the worst possible scenario.  Having taken care to securely tuck the mosquito netting, that draped over the bed, under the sleeping bag had made it impassible to make a quick dash away.  My .45 automatic was hanging in its holster across the room.  Presuming that the animal's weight and size could be about the same as mine, and, also, that it was better equipped for life and death struggles, it seemed reasonable to me that the possibility for successful action in my favor was practically non-existent.  At that very moment, the Panther brushed against my bed, and, almost simultaneously, a most putrid smell arose in my bed (perhaps the fear scent that one often read about in adventure stories?).  That was my last conscious thought until daybreak.  I awoke with a full awareness of what had happened, and also, with full amazement about my survival.  Thinking about it all, Divine Providence had to have intervened on my behalf by causing a stink so rotten smelling that even a panther would be reluctant to do lunch.

     You may be interested to know that in that afternoon someone spotted the Panther, on the hillside near the latrine, and ended its life.

     The zoological education I unexpectedly was acquiring included seeing Cobra's up close and too personal, a Python about 23 feet long, saucer-sized spiders, and night prowling hyena packs with their chilling laughter.