day had gone, he could not seem to understand where he should be, or why the ground roundabout was so soft and yielding. He asked where all the animals were, and then almost panicked when he couldn’t find someone, or something; Mtundu couldn’t decide which. It was all the baboon could do to persuade the lion to go back, slowly and with much turning and returning back, to the great rock. When close, the lion grew even more confused and in the deep moonlight shouted out about not waiting for dawn. No amount of persuasion could make climb the rock, so Mtundu took him under the shelter of the promontory. There the lion slept again and Mtundu finally felt able to slip away to seek help.

Mid-morning and the lion had still not woken. Shaha and Mtundu had stayed with him for most of the night. Now Falana took her mother’s place. She gently licked his muzzle, and then turned her ministrations to his forelegs and paws, working her tongue in between his toes, over his claws, then his forelegs and in time over all of him to his tail tuft. Then she too fell asleep. When Shaha returned, the pair lay still side by side.

“Come away Mtundu. It was a good thing you came to me when you did. They’ll be all right, they’re just sleeping now. Here, let me show you something I think you’ll be interested in.”

She led off to the boulder path to the promontory. Mtundu lingered by the lions for a moment, then silently turned and walked off after Shaha.

“I was born here. There in that cave.”

Mtundu looked. He remembered Nengwalamwe’s fascination bordering on obsession with the rocks that blocked the entrance. “What happened?”

“Once you could walk all round the rock to the top. My father took us up there, my brother, sister and I. We watched the dawn. Looked all around. You could see everything.”

The baboon thought about the path that headed over the saddle of the great rock. Beyond was a narrow ledge that curled around and up. There he had thrown stones down at the newcomer lion. He felt ashamed.

“Before I was born there were two long years with almost no rains. The cracks in the rock, they’re everywhere, they dried out. Then, when the rains finally came, about when I was born, the rock began to move, the cracks grew. Slowly they grew. In time, the ledge above the cave cracked away. It was nothing at first, for a few years anyway. A few small stones here and there. Then someone got hurt. Not dead, but hurt. We took notice then.”

Mtundu looked at the face of the rock, now in slant-shade that picked out the fresh reddened stone above the cave. The rock that had covered the face lay in smashed fragments front of the cave. He saw the ledge, now hanging bare, continuing round the pinnacle.

“It was just another thing that happened. So much happened then, so much.” Shaha seemed lost for a moment. She looked around. “So many gone.” She sat, tucking her tail about her. Mtundu caught a movement in her flank and deftly picked something from the curve of her back. Looking back to the rock, he ate it between finger and thumb. “None here though. There are no bodies buried under that rubble. It came down foul wet night, my father was gone, and his too. We were trying to hunt: pointless. The cave sometimes floods in the rains. We came back but there was nothing here for us anymore. There were more of us then.” She sat. Mtundu looked. They were silent.

Later they picked their way back down the boulder path. Shaha explained that that too was once clear and even and that which had blocked the cave had spilled out there too. As she reached open ground Shaha stopped, her breath short. Mtundu ran forward. She called after him.

“No Mtundu, leave them be. You’re not going to see this again for a long time.”

“What? Why? It’s just them two asleep together… still.”

“We’re not like you. We need to spend two thirds of our life asleep: dozing, half-awake, whatever; most of it through the day. Nengwe can’t go on day after day awake and frightened: listening to every sound, alive to any danger all the time. Walking here there and everywhere all the time. Expecting every moment to be his last. We’re not made like that. You and he can’t live the same life. He can’t live with you, but never for one moment think he can live without you.”

“Yeah, but what about her?”

Shaha nodded, the skin over her shoulders tightened.

“Mtundu, we lions and lionesses live in different worlds. Lionesses live for the pride: for their sisters, mothers, aunts, and their cubs. We stay in one place. That’s our life: the pride. Lions live in a territory. They are worried about borders and incursions, about other lions. They can move about, take prides, and father cubs. The pride is not the territory; a pride is about relationships: about others. A territory is about space, fighting and mating: it’s about self. They are separate worlds that only sometimes come together, just as they are for Falana and Nengwe now. It won’t last long.”

“How long?”

“A few days perhaps. She can take his mind off the dogs.”

“And then?”

“Like you, they can’t live with each other and they can’t live without.”

“So, what’d we do?”

“Make them time. Give them space. Let them alone.”

“Yeah, but what about the dogs?”

“Ah the dogs… I don’t know Mtundu. I simply don’t know.”

“That’s just it see. I was doing something that’d get the dogs off his back. Give him time. For a while at least, but then, he just… he…”

“Yes, I know. He’ll be all right.”

“You weren’t there! He just went all… I just don’t know. I’m scared of it happening again. I was damn scared when it happened. I didn’t know what to do.”

“But you did do something, something good, and here we are. I think he needs to rest. He can’t keep on and on like he has been, he’s just not strong enough.”

“But he’s a lion! He’s not strong enough? Who the heck is?”

“I don’t know, a hippo maybe?”

“Hippopota-my-ass! An elephant, now that’s strength!”

“Do you actually know any?”

“Yeah. That’s where I was tryin’ to get Nengwe at. Maybes still can.”

“Try. You have the time.”

“Will he be OK?”

“Yes, but maybe he’ll not be up for a while yet. Be gentle with him when he does. He’ll not be in a good mood. Now come away.”

Mtundu looked at his friend. He knew he was in good hands, even if they were draped over his forelegs. He remembered the warmth and strength that Falana must have been feeling through her near-white fine underfur. He turned, keeping his eyes on the lion until the last moment, and then stepped back to Shaha. She led him away toward Silent Rocks.

***

A leopardess approached the burrows. Twenty lengths out, she paused and looked around. She was alone, as usual. A dog, hearing her pawfall through the ground, poked her head out of the nearest burrow.

“You there: Fentayli!”

“Oh great Miss Elizabeth. It’s such a pleasure to speak with you as always.”

“Stop the arse-licking; you’re not a dog.”

“Err, yes… Ma’am.”

“Seeing as ‘ow well’ard you are and always up for it, you know that old grudge of yours?”

“What grudge would that be Miss Elizabeth?”

“The really old grudge.”

“Ah, that grudge.”

“Yeah that. I want you to settle it: finally. You understand?”

“Most certainly, it will be a pleasure.”

“Get it done right. No mess, no witnesses, but not yet mind. Bide your time. It’s got to be done at night, before the presentation.”

“Very well. I shall use the time to… enjoy it.”

“Whatever. Oh and after you’re done there’s another job.”

“Something else? What might that be?”

“I don’ care ‘ow. I really don’t give a flying fig what you do. Just kill that baboon. Is that clear enough for you?”

“Oh yes, very clear: something for me, then something for you. Very clear indeed… but not simple. It’ll take time.”

“You’ve got until the full moon. Then do it, do them both. No cock ups. I want him gone: snuffed, demised, rubbed out, dead.”

The leopardess nodded obsequiously. She clearly enjoyed her work. She even, in a strange way, enjoyed Elizabeth; she was as near a creature of kin as she had ever known.

***

Falana woke often. Nengwe remained still and calm. She made sure he was comfortable before settling back. She could not imagine what he had been through: where he had been or what he had seen; that would have led him to this. To her, Elizabeth and the dogs had mostly been an irritation; an annoying tick in her underfur. She had grown up under their shadow. For the most part they had left her alone. Except that when they hadn’t they had intruded deeply into her most personal lives. They had killed the most important parts of her land she was now determined not to let them kill this one.

Towards late afternoon she woke again and after stretching, stepped way to walk off the stiffness in her legs and back. When she came back, Nengwe, still in deep shade, looked blearily back at