The early morning light cast a dappled pattern on the sandy-coloured form behind the bush. As the leaves started to rustle, we watched impatiently for a better view. After a short while the form moved, revealing a tail flicking to and fro. As the lion appeared, he stretched and slowly stood up. We sat and watched him lumber down the track towards the stream, amazed by his huge, sinuous and muscular body. We had heard that the lions of Moremi, in the Okavango Delta, were the largest and best fed of all the lions in southern Africa. We sat, awestruck, only a few metres away from this 700lb male.

Unlike other big cats such as tigers and leopards, lions are not shy, reclusive animals, and they make fantastic subjects for us to draw and film. Huw and Roger (our cameramen) filmed the lion and we painted as Greg photographed the whole event.

The lion drank at the water's edge and then waded into the cool stream. We followed at a safe distance in our vehicle, being careful not to disturb the lion's morning ritual.

Roger suddenly whistled, distracting our attention. He had spotted a pack of wild dogs in the distance. They were walking in single file towards the stream, completely unaware of the lion. The lead dog stopped abruptly and barked his warning. In a cloud of dust and a frenzy of activity the lion spun around and gave chase. We followed, wheels skidding in the water as we sped through the stream trying to keep up with the animals. We were led into a huge clearing in the forest. Battle was about to commence.

We could now see the entire pack of wild dogs, numbering nineteen in total. We had painted wild dogs in East Africa over the past few years but had never seen them interact with other predators and had never even heard of them fighting with lions. We knew we were witnessing something spectacular, an event rarely seen and even less often filmed, perhaps never painted.

Wild dogs are apex predators. Packs of more than forty individuals have a vast hunting range and regularly cover more than seventy kilometres a day. As hunters, wild dogs have the highest kill and success rate of all predators, managing to take down over 80 per cent of their prey. Lions succeed with around 30 per cent of their attacks. The key to the wild dogs' attack success rate lies in their ability to run prey down over long distances. The pack divides into squads of between five and ten dogs. When one group gets tired the others fall into place so they can rest. Their prey ranges from small game to large antelope and even old or wounded buffalo can succumb to an attack from these incredible predators that act as one a single predator with forty mouths. Few of the animals survive the onslaught. Wild dogs, also known as Cape hunting dogs or painted wolves, have earned the name 'land piranhas'.

Wild dogs are intelligent, gregarious animals with an advanced and sophisticated community system. This is apparent in the way they care for each other and their young and the manner in which they feed. Each pack is led by an alpha male and female. The alpha male will lead the pack on a hunt and will breed with an alpha female to produce a progeny that will be cared for, provided for and even suckled by the other members of the group. They are an efficient family group and have few enemies in the wild.

Man poses the greatest threat to wild dogs, along with diseases such as canine distemper and parvo virus. Years of being shot as pests by farmers and recent interactions with cattle dogs has resulted in wild dogs becoming a highly endangered species in all parts of Southern and Eastern Africa. It is rare for a pack of wild dogs to interfere with another predator, and as a rule they keep their distance certainly from lions, the biggest of the African cat family.

That day in the delta was to be an exception. The lion dashed left and right and with every move the wild dogs countered his charges carefully, with speed. The lion was surrounded and was becoming more and more frustrated by the dogs' ability to out-manoeuvre him. The wild dogs would disperse in the dust only to regroup in squads of between eight and ten animals, falling into rank. Like an elite infantry unit they covered each charge and re-established their ground, out-manoeuvring the lion.

We rounded a corner and spotted a lone dog, stooped behind a tree. At first we thought it was one of the weaker dogs from the pack taking refuge and a slight rest, but then we noticed it moving with difficulty. In our dash to capture the action on film we had missed the initial affray. It must have been then that the dog was wounded by the lion, only to be rescued by the rest of the pack. It seemed as if the wild dogs were trying to distract the lion from the lone dog. After some time the entire pack retreated to the tree line and unexpectedly dispersed.

The lion had won. He strode around, triumphant, like a gladiator in his stadium. We had witnessed a remarkable sequence of events and we drew the victorious lion as he continued to strut about. But still something was not right. He appeared on edge. As he paced back and forth around the clearing, we heard a yelping distress call in the distance. At first light we had seen two female lions at a bend in the trail, close to where we had had our earlier sighting of the lion in the bush. Had they now returned to the scene and located the lone wild dog?

The lion suddenly broke into a sprint and we followed. As we broke trail along the wooded path, we saw the lone dog backed against a tree. He lurched forward in an attempt to attack the lion that was standing proud above him. It was a brave but futile defence. The lion swiped at him with his forepaw and then took the stunned animal in his huge jaws. The wild dog was limp and the lion lay down, still holding him firm in his mouth. The lion had killed the dog. It was an incredible experience to have witnessed the entire event. We continued to draw.

Why had this happened? Since a lone mature wild dog is an intelligent, effective predator, why would he have confronted a male lion? They are simply too fast and wily to be cornered. We realised that he must have been wounded during the initial charge or been held at bay by the two female lions, unable to escape until the male lion returned to kill him. We discussed the series of events at length and our conclusion was that we probably would never fully understand how and why it had happened.

The male lion stood up with the dog still in his mouth. We were surprised to see the dog still alive, his mouth and eyes open. Then we noticed his collar.We were aware that the dogs were under scientific observation but had not yet noticed his collar. Endangered predators are often darted and given electronic collars that can be tracked by research teams of scientists using a system called 'radio telemetry'. It is usually the alpha males that are tagged, as they lead and protect the pack. This dog was no exception. We found out later that day that he was indeed the alpha male and had led the pack for over nine years. This is an unprecedented period of time to survive in the harsh world of Botswana's Okavango Delta.

The lion walked out into the open once again, the dog still hanging from his clenched jaws. He paraded his quarry as if showing us he was boss. This act is characteristic of apex predators and has nothing to do with a hunt or a kill for food. It is a fight for territorial supremacy, dominance and power. After the final 'lap of honour' around his 'stadium', the male lion laid his trophy down. Death as well as life is a daily occurrence in the wild and to understand the latter we have to respect the former. We had witnessed the true nature of the African bush, the survival of the fittest.

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