two, three or more lengths. Some stood bare; others were thick with vegetation. Beyond, the thicket thinned before giving way to the plain. In-between laid an area of rough ground, some ten or more lengths wide, covered in low thorn bushes. Now, before the rains, they were little more than leafless woody twigs covered with claw-long thorns. They offered the lion good cover as he wound amongst them. They also partially blocked his view of the open ground beyond. With each turn he regained sight of the hyenas, only to lose it again on the next stride.

Nengwalamwe approached the last rise. Beyond the ground opened out and dropped down gently. The hyenas, and that all-important kill, lay a little way off, hidden from view in a hollow. For precious seconds he couldn’t see anything other than the thorn-covered ridge ahead. When his nose had cleared the rise he paused and looked on in dismay as an unpleasantly familiar voice drifted to his ears on the heat haze.

 “...zi, you’re well out of order. Come on, shift your arse out of here.”

Nengwalamwe could only make out the ears of one of the hyenas, and no more than a length away, the blotched head and tail of a wild dog. The hyena stood firm. The lion edged forward.

 “You got cloth ears or what?”

By their raised backs and tense ears Nengwalamwe felt sure the hyenas were about to rush the dog, yet they made no move. Two hyenas were more than a match for a lone wild dog, back on Kolata such an encounter was sure to end in a decisive strike by the hyena. The dog would be lucky to escape with its life, all for a piece of wasted bravado. Hunting Dogs were capable of harassing hyena, but only through pressure of numbers. Lone dogs had to be careful to avoid trouble, this one was clearly asking for it.

‘It’s one of those dogs! What are they doing here?’ thought Nengwalamwe, raising his head to get a better look. Sure enough, as he had thought, two hyena stood firm over a kill: a young gazelle. There were also not one, but three wild dogs, the same ones as had tried to chase him the previous day. There was no point in wasting energy chasing off the hyenas and the dogs. As his father used to say, "The weak have only themselves to blame.” He decided to let the hyenas do all the work for him.

The lead dog, which Nengwalamwe now recognised as Eddie from the encounter on the kopje, broke the silence, “What yer waitin’ for Dung-scratcher? The end of the rains? I said move yerself!” The dog growled, exposing his teeth. Nengwalamwe looked on in astonishment as the hyenas dropped their ears and tails and backed away. The dogs advanced and fell upon the carcass eagerly. The hyenas turned and ran away without even baring a tooth.

Nengwalamwe was amazed, and, though he would not admit it, afraid. The scene he was just witnessing was incredible and disturbing and he wanted no part of it. ‘I need to get clean, that’s much more important than eating right now.’ He dropped back below the ridgeline. ‘Yeah, I’ll just go back into the thicket and sort out my fur.’ He retreated slowly, shaking slightly. His heartbeat filled his chest. There was something about the scene he had just witnessed that terrified him, yet he could not put his paw on what.

He slipped back shakily into the thicket. In its depths he lay down, cloaking himself in the stifling heat and stillness of midday. He consoled himself by grooming: licking - drawing his moist, rasping tongue through his belly fur over and over with a flick of his head at the end of each stroke. With each stroke a breath drawn in and held to the flick. Again and again, washing, swashing, swishing, and wishing it clean until the world around melted away in the heat of the afternoon.

6.Llasani

 

Nengwalamwe looked up as the momentary sounds of his brother’s approach reached the soft fur-fringed tips of his ears. He didn’t have to look; the sounds alone told him that the young lion was coming. He knew he would soon feel his brother’s breath on his cheek and the rasp of his tongue through his fur. Nengwalamwe turned round to see his younger brother, Talashi, approaching slowly.

Talashi stopped by his brother’s side and lowered his hindquarters, bending his knees as he gently slid his hind legs across the bare earth beneath him. When the warmed earth touched his belly he dropped his chest and forequarters, placing his head by Nengwalamwe’s, his tongue stretched out between his black-edged lips. As Nengwalamwe had predicted, Talashi reached out and licked him from cheek to ear, tasting the salt mingled with the dust in the short fur. He left a damp swath of slicked back hair that showed to all that, as long as he presented no threat, he loved his brother. Nengwalamwe tried to appear indifferent to his younger brother’s affection. He remained quite still for a few seconds then began to purr very gently just for his own satisfaction. He felt sure that Talashi could feel the vibrations through his flank. Talashi made as if to lick again. For a moment holding his head over his brother’s, unsure if another lick would be welcome. His eyes brightened and he suddenly nipped Nengwalamwe’s inviting ear.

“Hi, Nengwe!”

Nengwalamwe pushed himself up roughly, opening his jaws and rolling a gently voiced warning that carried far from the hollow. Talashi jumped up and bounced away, pushing up and to one side with both forepaws, carrying his head from any danger.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Talashi cowered at the sight of his brother’s long flesh tearing teeth that shone yellow-brown in the harsh, piercing light of midmorning.

“Watch it, Talashi! Hey, what do you think you’re doing bothering me anyway?”

Talashi ventured forward holding his head low, exposing his neck to his brother’s teeth.

“I only came to ask you if you wanted to come out with me and the others.”

“What? More cub games? Come on, I’m much too old for all that. Leave me alone, and quit biting me.” He swayed uneasily from side to side, rocking on his fore legs, shifting his weight from one side to the other.

“Llasani is coming.” Talashi spoke quietly; he wasn’t sure how his brother might react to the promise of their lithe and sensual cousin. Nengwalamwe paused from his head waving and closed his mouth, his cheeks relaxing and his ears turning back a little.

“She is? Are you sure?” His eyes opened wider and he dropped his gaze to the ground for a moment. “Well, perhaps...” He stepped forwards and sat back, tucking his tail around his hind legs. “Perhaps, I’ll...” He thought better than to show just how much he would have liked to come along. “Be along in...” Then he felt something else happening which told him that he had better not get up just yet. He was sure it would show his impressionable younger brother just how much he really liked his cousin Llasani. “Yes, well, I’ll just be along in a moment. There, you - err, come on Tashi, help me out here! You ‘run along’ or whatever it is that you cubs do. I’ll be along in a moment.” He slumped down to the ground, somewhat embarrassed.

“Are you all right Nengwe? Are you coming or what?”

“Tashi, I’m, er… fine. I said I’ll be along in a moment, you go on.” Nengwalamwe shifted his weight uncomfortably, pulling a hind leg from under his stomach. “And Tashi?”

“Yeah, Nengwe?” said the adolescent as he turned to leave, quite unaware of his brother’s awkwardness.

“Quit calling me Nengwe - I’m a lion now, so call me by my name: Nengwalamwe, son of Nengwala.”

“OK, Nengwa… lamwe, see ya later!” Talashi turned to go then swung his head back, “Do ya think I’ll get my mane soon too? I hate being a cub all the time.”

“Tashi, there’s more to being a lion than just having a mane.” Nengwalamwe answered warmly, though he was now adult, he still felt a strong bond to his only brother.

“Yeah, I guess so, but it helps. Right?”

“Yes Tashi, it helps a lot. You’ll get your mane soon, don’t worry.”

“Yeah? I hope so. Then we can go away together like we said.”

“Sure Tashi, just like we always said.”

Talashi smiled and bounced off: all gangly legs and flailing tail. Nengwalamwe couldn’t help noticing just how lanky, ungraceful, weak and common his brother looked, though he was gaining weight. Nengwalamwe by contrast was now practically at full adult weight, though it had not entirely settled into the right places. He had filled out greatly in the previous few months. His mane was a deep, rich earthy brown laced with filaments of gold and black and now fully covered his neck. He knew Llasani and a few of the other lionesses too were attracted to him, just as they should. What was it his father told him? “"Did she like it? LIKE IT?! She should have cried all the way back to her mother." He often dreamt of what he would do to her if they were ever alone for a time together. He also knew that that’s all it could ever be - just dreams - while he lived in his father’s pride.

The pride took its name from the seasonal stream, the Kolata, which flowed in the weeks after the rains. It ran from the foothills of the mountains and on out to the south of the pride’s lands. His father, Nengwala, was a powerful pride leader and well known for protecting his lionesses, the young barely

Previous Page

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73

Next page