In Brazil, tracking the Big Five: jaguar There are as many as seven thousand jaguars here in the Pantanal, out of a total population of perhaps 100,000. They're the biggest jaguars (weighing 72-150 kg compared to just 30-50 kg in Central America) too. They have abundant food, which is one of the reasons why we see them on the riverbank. They can kill large adult caimans and drag them up the bank to eat them, and can easily kill the biggest capybara. On our first boat trip out we saw Patricia. A two-year old, she had become the most visible this year and liked to walk leisurely along low bluffs beside the river or on the beaches. There are lots of pretty sandy beaches along the Cuiabá and its tributaries. You could almost imagine a classic Brazilian beach scene, but you'd have to watch your back while sipping on your chilled coconut milk. The next day we saw Emily. She was stalking the capybara along one of the narrow inlets. We had a good view of her route: she was following, with murderous intent, a direct line through the bush that would take her to the capybaras. There were lots of little capybara pups around - perfect snacks for a jaguar that needs lots of protein and fat every day. Her back low, her legs bent, her mouth open ever so slightly - breathing as quietly as possible - and her eyes fully focused, she seemed unaware of the six or seven boatloads of tourists watching her. As with Africa's lion and India's tiger, Brazil's big cat brings in lots of visitors, and all want to see, and photograph, a jaguar. This crowd element takes away some of the magic of the encounter, but if the shared spectacle helps protect the habitat, and the cat, then it will have to be accepted as a lesser of many ills. Emily, though, failed to get a capybara. A whole family dived in to the river, the alpha male barking his panic call. They paddled across to the other side, where they climbed up on to the bank and stood as high above the waterline as possible, on guard and tense. Capybaras are docile, rather dumb-looking rodents, but a jaguar has the capacity to make their hair stand on end. That day, Lightning, a four-year old male, was also glimpsed, walking alongside a narrow channel almost blocked to our large motorboat by reefs of water hyacinths. We saw him again later on, but he was fast asleep, lying on his side and even on his back, his heart beating and his lungs pumping as he dreamed, so our guide José Antonio said, of ten-ton capybaras and caimans with infinitely long and meaty tails. After lunch the temperature in the Pantanal "winter" rises to the mid-to late-thirties. I'd have loved a swim but José Antonio put me off even while encouraging me: "It's absolutely fine, but never forget the big hand - that's what the locals call the jaguar. Nor the anacondas. Nor the caiman, the piranhas, the currents, and the branches that can trap your feet... so I retired to my air-conditioned cabin and read a novel. We saw other jaguars. Stella jumped in the river, climbed up a steep bank and walked along a slender beach for us during the photographer's "golden hour," when the sunlight is low and the colour temperature warmest. She was another big and beautiful female. Through a zoom lens she looked pretty - her face naïve and so closely related to all the domestic cats I have loved that I could have adopted her. But she was also aloof as only cats can be and soon left us for the safety of the jungle. Mauro (also known as Mick Jaguar) was a male that must have been six foot from nose to tail, and another sleeper. He snored loudly at one point and we left him to his slumber. Jaguars in the Pantanal often hunt at night and use the day to rest and digest. It's heartwarming to see them so abundant, and relaxed enough to be photographed, and photographed again, even while they snooze. My "Big Five" trip is over. Tomorrow we decamp to a small former ranch beside the Transpantaneira and the next day go to Cuiabá to fly to the UK via São Paulo. "Mission accomplished," said Marcos and José Antonio in unison during our sundowner on one of those beaches, surrounded by serene caimans, egrets, herons and the other familiar, unflashy wonders of this place. I know the "Big Five" concept will help sell the Pantanal to those who might not have come, whether they be nature lovers, photographers, or just box-tickers. If it can work in Africa, it can work in South America. But the trip also showed me 200 bird species (and that's an exact number, as we saw a heron an hour ago and that was the 200th) around two dozen mammals, a half dozen reptiles and uncountable flora and insect life. The abundance of species and the thriving, thronging, busy character of the Pantanal will, I expect, be what lingers after the "Big Five" recede from the foreground of our memories: an anhinga drying its wings on a dead tree; a heron gulping down a catfish; a potoo bird merging with its tree-perch; a caracara tearing apart some chick; kingfishers flickering across the eddies; woodpeckers squabbling with macaws over who owned a dead tree trunk - I could go on. It's not actually about five, or 200, or numbers at all, but about teeming wildlife, on all sides, at all hours, within reach of the naked eye, in this remarkable window in the seasons. Chris Moss is travelling with wildlife specialist Naturetrek (www.naturetrek.co.uk). The next South American Big Five departures will take place in August 2014; prices for the 17-day tour start from £5995 (incl. flights with TAM). Read the first blog Read his blog on spotting macaws Read his blog on the maned wolf Read his blog on anteater and tapir Read his blog on giant otters Read more Beginner's guide to Brazil Doing it the Brazilian way It's a long road for Rio