by Stephen Flanagan Jackson 

Crouching camouflaged in a gnarled jungle, the jaguar’s muscular rear end coils like a tight spring, graceful tail quivering intensely. In a flash, the spotted tawny jaguar pounces and gains a pit bull-grip on the squealing, unsuspecting peccary. The big cat’s powerful vice of a jaw and stiletto teeth – in synchronized fashion – crush and pierce the feral pig’s skull. The denouement: quick merciful bloody death.The sleek jaguar now uses its enormous front body strength to drag the carcass off the beaten trail to a safe dining place. Even the Bambana River in east Nicaragua poses no problem to this feline. Un-cat like, the jaguar, not only does not purr, it has no fear of water. The jaguar leaps into the murky waters, the bristly razorback limp in mouth, legs powerfully propelling both beasts to a hidden haven on the river’s opposite verdant bank for a luscious pork meal - or two.
A similar scenario is repeated thousands of times throughout the jaguar’s range in Nicaragua and, indeed, from Mexico all the way down to central Argentina. Even ranchers in the US Southwest have recently reported, albeit rare, jaguar sightings.
But the jaguar faces increasing pressure from “progress” and civilization. The largest feline in the Western Hemisphere, the jaguar may soon be one more of those species that is only experienced in a zoo if humans do not take notice of the jaguar’s fragile and precarious existence.

Home of an icon
Nicaragua is home to the largest remaining rainforests in Central America. Two of these once pristine pockets – the center-north and the Atlantic coast – are habitats for the contemporary jaguar in Central America’s largest country. Jaguars also roam the dense jungles near the Costa Rican border along the San Juan River.
Revered and feared throughout history, the jaguar holds a special place in the lore and spirituality of the pantheistic Amerindians of the “New World.” The glow of the jaguar’s almond-shape green eyes in the jungle nights, the stealth and strength of this predator,  the myriad spots of rosette “eyes” on its brownish-yellow coat, the solitary, clandestine style all contribute to the mysticism of the big beast.
Legend has it that the bleeding, pulsating hearts of the ancients’ human sacrifices were presented to the jaguar as an offering. Even to this day, the jaguar is a symbol of power for the “modern” population of the Americas. Scads of schools and pro sports teams claim the powerful predator as its mascot. Jungian symbols embellished with the jaguar likeness adorn archetypal art works and contemporary fashion alike, not to mention the stylish automobile. Ranchers and farmers cock protective side arms at the sight or at the sound of the guttural “roar” of the livestock-preying jaguar - merely seeking sustenance after being driven from its natural habitat and deprived of its erstwhile food source.
One Nicaraguan retains vivid memories of the jaguar from his days in the military in 1980. Rodolfo Chavarría recalls that he and his teenage buddies slept in hammocks in the jungles. “We wrapped and covered ourselves in the military-issue raincoats at night to prevent the jaguars from attacking us,” says the 43-year old. “You never see the jaguars, but you sure hear them.” He remembers the signature caterwauling, starting about 5:30 or 6 each evening. “That’s when the jaguars start to hunt for food. You can hear that eerie sound all night long…beautiful…hard to describe.”
Recently, Chavarría visited his wife’s family farm east of Managua near Acoyapa where some of the ranchers “are losing baby calves to the jaguars.” Chavarría explains that the jaguars are being driven from their normal hunting grounds by lumber poachers who fell the exotic trees and smuggle the wood. “The jaguars have taken to living in the caves over there,” he says. “Or moving up to Honduras.”
 Chavarría recognizes the value of the jaguar. He hopes and prays his country will take action to preserve this “jewel of a the jungle” for his three young girls’ lifetime and beyond. Not an easy task given the onslaughts by the jaguars’ unnatural enemies: agriculture, urbanization, habitat destruction, illegal land settlement, overkill, over-development, as well as poachers looking for animal hides.

Coordinating for preservation
Humans are the prime peril to the jaguar’s survival in any wild form, acknowledges Alan Rabinowitz, executive director of the Wildlife Conservation Society Science and Exploration Program. Rabinowitz and his staff, based in New York City and working passionately in Nicaragua, is just one group of concerned gringos seeking new hope for the conservation of Latin America’s disappearing wildlife. According to Rabinowitz, the countries and people of Central America, by working together, can connect their wild lands and potentially save their shared natural heritage - in this case, the jaguar.
Rabinowitz of WCS and other non-profits such as Rainforest2Reef are putting their expertise and money where their mouths are.
Any strategy for the long-term maintenance of a jaguar population must consider the size and connectivity of habitat reserves as well as the minimum population size of jaguars in specific reserves, recommends David Levanthal, the founder of Rainforest2Reef and an eco-resort developer of Playaviva in Mexico. Levanthal is a dyed-in-the-wool businessman, a high-tech capitalist living in the concrete jungle of the Silicon Valley in California. Levanthal says any businessman investing in Latin America should realize that it is not enough merely to make a profit. “Today’s businessman also should do something positive for the environment and for the local community,” Levanthal, who preaches by precept, adds.
Rainforest2Reef is pioneering an emerging model for land and wildlife conservation. R2R’s well-heeled staff of cutting-edge scientists collaborates with local communities throughout Latin America to protect ecologically important lands through unique mechanisms: research to manage and monitor protected areas and development of economic activities that improve the livelihoods of local people.
That “corridor concept” – connectivity – is not exactly new. The idea germinated from the “Paseo Pantera” (Spanish for Panther Path) - the brainchild of the WCS in 1990. The Panther Path calls for a connected network of protected areas and corridors for jaguars throughout Central America. WCS officials say that the concept has been slow to implement, but they see a newly discovered interest and impetus. Presently referred to as the CBM – or Mesoamerica Biological Corridor – research is near completion for presentation of an updated Panther Path paradigm to the Central American Commission of Environment and Development. Government officials and private citizen groups in Nicaragua appear to have taken ownership of the WCS plan. A breakthrough announcement – and an optimistic plan of action – is expected in early 2008, according to the WCS.
The question is: will this diverse group of people pounce – jaguar-like – on the bandwagon?  The species – humans – most culpable for the demise of the “Panthera onca” (Latin for jaguar) ironically could be the big cats’ salvation if the Panther Path flies.