ya doin’? I ain’t gonna mess with you no more! Cain’t you keep still? Well cain’tya?”

The lion ignored Mtundu. He had no idea that a baboon was meant to sit still when he was being groomed.

“You know, I ought to take Falana just to show her who’s got the mane around here.”

“Take her? Yeah, right. That’s real smart - like that’s really gonna make her want to bring up your stinkin’ cubs.”

“I’m not talking about cubs” He shook his head again, a little less mud fell to the rock. “I’m talking about her.”

“Is that what you really wanna do? Really?” Mtundu paused and stood back, “Why?”

“She made me look a fool. Now I want to make her feel a fool. I’ll have her and she knows it.”

“Oh yeah. She’d feel a fool all right - the one on her back. Think - you can take her once when she don’ wan’ it - revenge might feel sweet at the time. But think how much sweeter it’d be if you could have her whenever she was willing eh? Am I right?” He stepped forward again and nudged the lion’s head with his elbow. “Or am I right?”

“What do you know? You ain’t had a lioness...” Nengwalamwe looked round suddenly and peered at the hazy, dark fuzziness that looked to be the baboon. “Have you?”

“Well, kinda. It’s not like we were promised or nuffin’.” The baboon shrugged with his arms bent at the elbows into a wide ‘w’. “It’s kinda fun - hanging out together - you know.”

“Mtundu! Who is it?” Nengwalamwe asked; his curiosity peaked by the baboon’s evasion.

“Yeah. Like I’m gonna tell you, so you or the lionesses can eat her.”

“No, I’d never do that.” The lion smiled, “Well, only if she’s fat and juicy.”

Mtundu peered down his muzzle at Nengwalamwe, tilting his head and blinking, “Huh?”

 

***

 

Mtundu fended off Nengwalamwe’s further probing with remarkable reticence. The need for sleep eventually drained the lion, despite his determination, leaving Mtundu to groom him until he was far away from the rock. Mtundu did not tire, flag nor shy away from his obligation. He picked through every hair of the lion’s mane as if his life depended on it, which, of course, it did.

The sun climbed higher in the sky and with it Mtundu grew increasingly anxious. He kept looking at the length of the dwindling shadows thrown by the rock high above him, as if they had a power over him far greater than that of a lion.

The lion did eventually wake, but not before Mtundu had scratched with a fearful, wavering hand at the loose fur and skin between his shoulders. Without opening his eyes the lion murmured, a gentle stirring from deep within. Then he shook and lifted his head and with half closed eyes said with a self-satisfied laugh, “Next time the earth moves Falana, it won’t be an earthquake.”

“You treat her with respect you hear!” Mtundu blurted tensely. The lion looked round, his eyes brightening rapidly until he saw the baboon standing over him. His expression changed instantly.

“You’re not still here are you?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.” Nengwalamwe groaned and shrank back to the rock. The baboon continued, “I hear she’s old enough to be your mother.”

“Falana’s not old: she’s mature.”

“So ya do fancy her. All the more reason to be cool with her.”

“I don’t ‘fancy’ her! I might well never see her again.”

“Yeah, right, so what have you got me spending half the day prissing you up for? Come on, I know what yer go’in do later.”

“Mtundu, you talk too much, and mostly from the wrong end!” Nengwalamwe smiled, raising his eye ridges, “Anyway, I might not be going to see her.”

“Right, and warthogs fly. You’re not going to take her because you fancy her don’t ya?”

“NO MONKEY! You don’t know me at all. Look, you’ll see. She’s going to know what kind of lion I really am.”

“From what you said I reckon she already does.” Mtundu looked at the shadows, and then at the sky and suddenly became inexplicably agitated. “Jeez, I gotta run. See ya!”.

Before Nengwalamwe could answer, the baboon ran off scuttling over the rock in great swinging strides involving all his limbs. “What was that all about? Baboons - never eat anything that talks. Yeah, right, I should eat them all before they get a chance to talk.” He growled under his breath. ‘Now then, he had better have sorted my mane out.’ He reached down with his tongue and wetted the back of a forepaw with four short forward licks. He turned his head over on its side, closing his eyes and dragging his turned-over paw through the fur between his ears, again and again. Finished, he lifted his head up and looked down to his paw - it was perfectly clean with not even tiniest speck of mud clinging to the damp fur.

 

***

 

With his shadow lying nonchalantly directly beneath him, Nengwalamwe stood on the threshold of his promontory home and looked out over his kingdom. He thought he was doing well. He didn’t feel hungry. He felt safe - at least now the dogs were leaving him alone. He felt proud to be the ruler of all this, even if there were no one that know he ruled them. This rock was his throne and his home, as anything with half a nose would have sensed from fifty lengths or more. ‘All a king needs,’ he thought, ‘is here, or out there… or even a queen, but I’m never going to have cubs, no chance - no way, no way!’ He smiled, quivering slightly with his own pleasure.

“Would you please stay put, Mr. Zebra?”

Nengwalamwe smiled wryly that the familiar voice, thinking, ‘Well, no cubs of my own...’ He looked round; sure enough there was Yali, stretched out, her belly hugging the searingly hot rock, her tail curling up into the air.

“Don’t you zebra know you’re meant not to see me?”

“Oh, aren’t they?” Then he added kindly, “Sorry, I mean, aren’t I.”

“Yes you. Did you hear me?”

Nengwalamwe answered honestly. “No, not until you told me to stay still. Err, I don’t know if I really want to know this, but am I your next meal?”

“Why? Don’t you want to be?”

“Well, I’d rather not be eaten just yet. Am I allowed to run away?”

“I guess so, but where’d you go?”

Yali’s words echoed with the innocent truth of youth. Where indeed would Nengwalamwe run? If Yali had been a leopard rather than a lion cub then Nengwalamwe would have had to stand and fight. While Yali still had the camouflage spotting of all lion cubs, she was, thankfully, no leopard. The rock perhaps wasn’t as safe as he had first supposed. What he needed was someone else to lie and watch from the other end of the promontory. This was a place for a pride and not just one lion. He looked around, just in case anything had followed Yali up the rocks.

“I guess so too. So is this where you pounce on me?”

“Yeah, if you’ll just eat that grass there.”

He looked down and saw the bare rock, ‘Hmm, wonder what it tastes like.’ He moved forward slightly, straightening his forelegs as much as he could and positioning them in rough triangle in a manner surprisingly not totally unlike the animal he was attempting to imitate. His neck, far shorter than a zebra’s, was less co-operative. He flicked his tail around his hindquarters as best he could to send the flies on his side, more real than imaginary, unlike the zebra, to endlessly circling flight. ‘Yuerrrchggh, does anything actually eat this stuff?’ He waited for the little lioness to pounce. Tashi had been right, he did make a great target.

 

***

 

Yali loved pouncing: butterflies, birds, snakes, tails, they are all one to young cubs. She had had few chances to practise her pounce for a long while, and if Nengwalamwe was prepared to play then Yali was going to take him for all she was worth. She dropped back a few paces, stopped and pulled back on her shoulders with everything she had. Her haunches straining and rippling in tension; her soft pads griped tightly, adhering to the rock.

Chin to the stone, underfur almost curling from the heat below, tail - where was that tail? Down tail. Deep breath in. Up eyes, check prey - Go! Pads feel like they are tearing off the rock, claws hit hard as paws twist, joints ache and muscles quiver, Oh that tail! There it goes again! The air rushing under lifts the belly. Head forced up, rest of the body follows, streaming forward. First pace – off forepads hit hard, but soften the shock, felt high in the shoulder, right to the bone. Near forepaw falls moments before near hind. Spine bends high. Must hold tail up - it hurts if it slaps the ground. Offhind down, forced back now, let spine uncoil and tail drop. Head stays level, eyes fixed on the prey. No ground contact now, off forepaw held under, turning it down as it nears the ground. Second pace - hurts less, speed building, knees aching, tail loosing it again. Breathe - feel it burn inside. Not far, one pace more. Head down, forget tail now. Push up more than forward on the forelegs, push back with the hind:

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