Just wild about the black cats

THEY spit at her, teeth bared, even occasionally drawing blood with

razor-sharp claws, but there is undoubtedly a love affair between Di

Francis and her Kellas cats. She also has a close bond with her

Vietnamese pot-bellied pigs, Clydesdale horses, dogs, cats, and

Hebridean sheep. However, the Kellas cats have a special place in her

heart.

When scientists were sceptical, and in some cases dismissive, about

her view that there existed a previously unknown wild creature in

Britain, Di Francis's enthusiasm and stubbornness kept her going, and it

now seems certain her efforts have led to the identification of the

first melanistic (black) wildcat ever recorded in Scotland.

The living proof stalks around a specially-built cage in the garden of

her quiet cottage near Keith. It is seven years since the curiosity

about the cats was aroused, and her desire to solve the mystery prompted

her to move home from Devon to Grampian; now she shares her life with,

among others, Fred and Freda, the only two Kellas cats in captivity.

From her isolated, whitewashed cottage, Di Francis has now produced

her third book, My Highland Kellas Cats (Jonathan Cape, #14.99),

chronicling her research and providing an insight into her own

remarkable life. Brought up in London, she attended the Italia Conti

Drama School then the Penzance School of Art. However, it was while

working as a freelance journalist in Cornwall, writing on her passion of

wildlife, that she stumbled on the subject that has become almost an

obsession.

She covered a story about the sighting of a puma-like animal in Devon,

and quickly discovered there had been similar sightings the length of

the country. Fifteen years later she has not solved the ''big cat

mystery'', but firmly believes that an as-yet unidentified cat with a

puma-type head and cheetah-like body exists on Britain's mainland.

She hopes to solve that mystery in the foreseeable future, and

believes only lack of funding is stopping her. Since the publication of

her first book about big cats in 1983, Francis has constantly received

letters reporting ''cat'' sightings.

She learned that Tomas Christie, a worker on the Kellas Estate near

Elgin, had not only shot a mystery black cat, but had had it stuffed and

mounted. It was one of at least four he had killed in the previous two

years, but her first sighting proved an anti-climax; it was much smaller

than she expected.

Undaunted, and with the stuffed Christie cat under her arm, Francis

went to the British Museum of Natural History. However, they assured her

the cat was simply a marvellous specimen of a hybrid between a Scottish

wildcat and a domestic, although they could tell much more from a fresh

specimen. Francis eventually delivered the carcass of a Kellas cat

killed near Aviemore.

The BMNH produced a report on their investigations which, she claims,

it sold to the BBC programme, Tomorrow's World, but gave to her on

condition that she did not release any findings to the media or publish

in any form. Francis has pledged never to have dealings with the museum

again.

Far greater interest was shown by Dr Andrew Kitchener, curator of

mammals and birds at the Royal Museum of Scotland. Her book concludes

with his report, published only weeks ago, based on eight Kellas cats he

has examined.

''One animal is clearly a melanistic wildcat,'' he says. ''The others

are hybrids, some of which are very close to the wildcat. One animal is

much closer to the domestic cat.''

Dr Kitchener has a final test to carry out, but does not think it will

alter his conclusions. His results justify the struggle Di Francis has

faced to prove her point. And struggle she did. When first captured,

Fred and Freda were kept at the Highland Wildlife Park at Kincraig.

However, it was decided that because they would never allow human eyes

to fall on them, their residency should end.

It was agreed that Di Francis could become their custodian if she

provided suitable accommodation. She begged and borrowed until she had

the materials to build the special cage necessary to contain the pair.

With a little help from her friends, including engineers of RAF

Kinloss, she succeeded in completing the new home and collecting the

cats with minutes to spare before they were destroyed.

My Highland Kellas Cats is more than a record of the scientific search

for the identity of the cats; it blends details of an important research

project with tales of human interest.

It tugs the emotions as it relates the birth, and death, of the Kellas

kittens born to Freda, and the struggle for survival of Kelly, a

three-legged Kellas that Francis adopted. The kittens' deaths may lead

to more scientific research, as it is possible they carried a virus that

could affect seriously the Scottish wildcat population.

Meanwhile, Fred and Freda are thriving in their Highland cage -- but a

cage not strong enough to hold the ''big cat'' on which Di Francis is

now focusing her attention.