looking around for somewhere for Mtundu to shelter. He looked back at the baboon sitting bold as day on the ground. OK, somewhere to hide, that’s what he needed. He walked around, sniffing at bushes and the ground for any scent that might signal danger for a baboon. There was plenty, even, he noted with some relief, Falana’s. None was strong, all was old.

Some way ahead stood the remains of a tree, its canopy all but gone. The wood was dry and brittle but the few remaining branches were low and might well support a baboon’s weight. From there Mtundu might easily watch Nengwe hunting if he so chose. Better yet, he would be able to see anything coming, and be able to call Nengwe. He called back, “Mtundu, how about up there?”

“Are you serious? Ya wan’ me ta shack up in that tree while you go hunt?”

“Yes, that’s about it. Well, what do you say? I’ll let you groom my mane later.”

Mtundu started walking toward the lion, who turned sideways on and lay down.

“How long ya gonna be?”

“As long as it takes: stalk a few, chase a few, get lucky maybe, till mid-morning or so. You’ll be all right up there.”

Mtundu stopped and sat down. “Like ya was all right up on the bank of the river huh?”

“What? Well….”

“Nengwe, you don’t get the prey thing do ya? I go sit up there and sure, while it’s dark I’m sittin’ pretty. Come sun up and I’m a monkey on a stick. Ya might as well hunt me ye’self, it’ll save ya time.”

Nengwalamwe dropped his head, his mouth hanging open, his eyes tilted up to the baboon. “Yeah, we’ve got better things to do, haven’t we? Let’s get home.”

“It ain’t so far. Who knows, Falana might have caught something.”

“She won’t want to share it, unless its worms.”

Nengwe got up, stretched, yawned with a twist of his head. Mtundu lead off warily, looking all round with sharp turns of his head.

It was well after dawn when they reached the rock. Nengwe climbed slowly, for the first time admiring the beauty of his home: the early light on the rock face, the haze of damp ground greening after the rains, the grazers floating on the horizon, the acacia trees bursting with fresh foliage. Everything fresh, everything green and gold, everything growing and alive, everything, as he stepped on to the promontory, other than that grey, barren, stinking pile of rocks.

As with so many journeys, once over, and returned to home, sleep is often the first need to be fulfilled. The great rock offered many places to lie, sleep and wait the day out amongst its caves, overhangs, and the tree canopied platforms of the southern ridge. The best of all these was the one place where Nengwe could not go, the blocked promontory cave.

What looks good to a lion is not necessary so for a baboon, each looks for something different. Nengwe worried about being able to see all round should he wake, or worse, be woken and need to escape. Mtundu wanted somewhere high and inaccessible where he could feel secure and hidden. Each though could be the eyes of the other, Nengwe’s tuned to distant movement between earth and sky; Mtundu’s on subtle patterns of light, shade and colour above and below.

After little debate, and a few resigned huffs from Nengwe, they choose the larger cave that opened to both sides of the great rock. There, in a large, deeply shaded alcove they could see to the western boulder strewn plain that lead down to the river, and off to the south, the dog’s distant den. If they were to come, it might well be from there. The other entrance narrowed and sloped down from the east. With luck, if anything came from there, and they woke in time as it approached they might be able to take it down as it descended the narrow path into the cave.

The lion found it hard to sleep. He was worried that the dogs were coming for him. On the odd moments when darkness spread her wings about him and he dropped into soothing sleep they crowded into his fragmented, fevered dreaming.

A little after noon Nengwe got up and stretched. Mtundu, feeling the stifling air on his back, woke too, trying to work out when it was.

“Why’s it not dark already?”

“It’s after noon, a little I think. I really ought to go warn the lionesses,” the lion looked to the sky beyond the narrow entrance.

“Nengwe, ya just got back and all you can think about is lionesses? Ye gotta rest.”

“No, we can’t. We’re burning daylight.”

“Nengwe, ya leave me alone in that daylight and I’m dead meat. Right now, the only way thing keeping me alive is you.”

“Look, come sundown and I’ve got to go. I might be too late, they’ll be out hunting most like and I’ll not find them till morning.”

“Yeah. I guess I can do what I have to in the dark.”

“What do you have to do?”

“Told ya. I gotta see some people.”

“What people?” yawned Nengwe almost closing his eyes.

“Big, important ones. Cain’t say more ‘less it doan’ come off.” The lion flopped to the ground, folding his forelegs under him. Mtundu stepped over to him and gently slipped an arm over his mane. As the lion slipped off, his head loose on his shoulders, the baboon softly stroked his mane and shoulders. “There ya go. You ain’t no good to any of us if ya doan’ rest.”

Soon Mtundu was also asleep, his head resting on the lion’s foreleg.

***

 Soon after sunset, bats streaming out to feed from high above on the great rock, Nengwalamwe struck out onto the eastern plain and headed off for Silent rocks. There he hoped to find Shaha at least. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to find Falana, and was quite convinced she didn’t care to find him. Her desire appeared plain: to have nothing whatsoever to do with him. While it pained him to think of it, and of what might have been, he respected her wishes, so clearly shown, and was determined to let her be. He knew not why it was so with her, but now it seemed to be a waste and no little intrusion into her life to find out.

When he arrived at the crags he first saw and heard nothing. Then he felt a movement high up to his offside. He looked up in to the soft moonlight: nothing. He dropped his head, and was about to turn away to leave when he heard a familiar small voice.

“Welcome back Nengwalamwe.” It was Shaha. “We thought you would return.”

“We?” he asked without lifting his head.

“Falana and I. You know it can’t be easy being Falana. Every lion, every male that she’s been involved with has paid dearly for knowing her. All her cubs are dead.”

“Mtundu told me.”

“I think she feels that as everyone she knows suffers she must never get to know anyone.”

Nengwe looked round to face Shaha lying high on one of the boulder tops. “Doesn’t she know we suffer too from not being a part of her life?”

Shaha sighed softly. “I don’t know; maybe she thinks there’d be more pain with her than without her. Perhaps she’s just trying to spare you… us, that pain.”

“You’re her mother, surely you know her better than maybe and perhaps?” Nengwe padded forwards to the base of the rock. It rose shear from the earth. There appeared to be no way up.

“No one ever knows Falana. Maybe they think they did, but then perhaps she let them think it, but they never really know her. Not even me… maybe especially me. She has a lot to bear. She’s the last of the Pridelands pride, the very last. I can’t have cubs; I don’t come into season anymore. She knows that if the Pridelands is to have any future, it rests with her. That means she must have cubs. That means she must have cubs soon.” She paused, looking intently at Nengwe. “That means she must have your cubs, Nengwalamwe.”

Nengwe pricked his ears and shook his head. “No, I don’t want cubs with Falana.” He dropped his head sadly, “No, that’s not what I mean. I want Falana, all of her. Every time I see her I long to be with her, but she doesn’t want to know, she doesn’t see. I see her; I see the way she flows by. She like the river, when she’s calm she runs deep and full, in the shallows she swirls and plays, yet she runs headlong down the gorge, carrying everything in her path, unstoppable, fierce and powerful. Then over the falls she goes, enveloping all who venture close. I see the curve of her back as it seduces me; taking my eyes wherever she is. Just a glance is enough… and yet all I can do is admire from afar; as soon as I get close she turns away. She doesn’t want anything to do with me, and all I can do is let her get on with her life.” He breathed deeply in resignation. “I don’t want her just so as I can have cubs. I want her for her. I want her to want me; to be with me because she wants to, not because of her duty, or your expectation, or because she owes me anything or because she thinks I saved her from anything. All I can offer is me, just as I am. All I have for her may be pain and suffering but at least it would be side by side; together. I’m going to stand up to those dogs come what may. I don’t know if I’ll survive, but I have to do it. Not for Falana, or for you either, but for everyone. It’s what I came here for, I know that now. Can you understand that?”

“Yes