You’re not safe anywhere. You had better watch your back and stay watching it ‘cause we’re coming at ya.”

“Why are you telling me all this? I can kill you anytime I want.”

“So as you and what’s ‘er name… Falana, can get away.”

Nengwalamwe, trying desperately to contain his anger, backed off from the dog. “Run away? Is that it?” He closed his eyes and breathed in great gulps of air. “This is some attempt to get me to… to run away again?”

The dog got up. It made no attempt to get away. Its coat shone silver in the half-reflected light of the nearly setting moon.

“No Nengwalamwe. I’m trying to warn you. I have to do what I’m told. Like for all my life I’ve never got to choose nuffin’, ‘cept now. I’m choosin’ to warn ya.”

Mtundu slipped over to the lion, sitting in his shadow. “Warn him?”

She leant forward, panting on the baboon. “Yeah, warn him.” Sitting back and looking up, she went on, “Well, what about it?”

“I…” He looked down to Mtundu. “We are not going anywhere.”

“No lion. Come on, if you can’t do it for yourself then do it for Falana… and your cubs.”

Mtundu held his arm up in front of the lion. He had no hope of holding him back. “Why should we believe you?”

“Do you think I would come here, right into your den, risking my life to wind you up? Give me a break.”

Nengwalamwe, his anger subsiding, considered the dog’s words for a moment. “We’re not going and you can’t take me down, not with Falana and Shaha.”

“Yeah right. So where are Falana and Shaha? Where are they? For all you know they could be dead already.”

“How?”

“Naah lion, that would be tellin’.”

“Who? Tell me.”

“Or what? Anyway its one of your kind.”

“Lion? Lioness?”

“Naah, wouldn’t ya like to know!” Nengwe growled, baring his teeth. “Spotted. Big, spends all day in trees.”

“Leopard? Hardly “my kind”. When’s all this supposed to happen? When are you going to kill Falana and capture me?”

“Dunno. Elizabeth don’t tell us nothing ‘til it ‘appens. Soon I reckon. Few days maybe.”

Nengwalamwe paced slowly round the dog. “So you want me to run away. Is that it?”

“I don’t care about you. You’re just a fluff necked crap burier. I do care about your cubs. It ain’t right, killing them too.”

“Killing them? I thought you said you were going to capture me.”

“Yeah, capture you, put you on trial in front of all the animals and then kill you, and Falana too if she hangs around. The flea-bag’s as good as dead already. I don’t want all this killing. Miss Elizabeth ain’t gonna’ back down. You say you won’t either, so how’s it all gonna end eh? You can change this. You, lion, can do something good. You can end this bloody mess. Miss Elizabeth says it’s all your fault for coming here. We were ‘ere first. It stands to reason you’ve gotta be the one to back down. You owe it to your cubs. So, what do you say?”

Later, the moon, high and full, silver-rippled the grasses of the western boulder field yet it could not touch Nengwalamwe’s blackened heart. For once his companion was silent too. They strode resolutely together toward the river, veering off to the south as they saw its dancing sparkle. Much of its fury from the rains was spent; it flowed full but peaceful. Its greatest danger came once again from the crocodiles that frequented its shallows.

They approached the burrows. Nengwalamwe made for the split tree, when he arrived he looked to the bare earth. There was no movement and little sound. The dogs, unlike the lion, it appeared, really did sleep tonight. He dropped the load from his mouth. It fell to the ground before him. He roared. He listened and waited. Confused yelping yawns. To make sure he had the sleeping burrow occupiers’ full attention he roared again. Shouting after, “I got your message. Here’s my reply!” He dipped his head down, took up his burden once again in his jaws, lifted it up and back letting it swing high over his shoulder, then, twisting his head, neck and forequarters violently, he flung the silvered body of his visitor toward the nearest burrow. It landed heavily, sliding limply on, twisting and rolling along the bare ground.

He crouched, and taking the baboon to his back, struck out north along the river. They did not return to the rock, instead, once well away from the burrows the pair crossed the valley where Nengwe and Falana had hunted together. There were no gemsbok, and neither the lion nor the baboon was hungry.

Pressing onward they came to the lugga. They tracked up its bank past where Nengwe had fallen. Once they had crossed the still soft silt cautiously they stopped to check for signs of the dogs. The night hung heavy and still as if everything around knew something was happening. Insects still flew and flittered, and with them flew the bats from the great rock and elsewhere. There were few large animals moving about. The few the pair saw were still, almost as if hiding. None ran from them, all stayed well away and were only seen fleetingly in the distance.

There was still an hour or more before dawn. Surely the dogs would soon venture out. The first place they would go would be the rock. After that… where? Falana’s knoll?

“Don’t worry Nengwe, she’ll be with her mother.” Mtundu’s words of comfort had little effect. They had to stay out of trouble until they met up with Shaha and Falana mid-morning. That’s all they had to do, but with the moon already set the night grew darkest and the slight chill penetrated both fur and hair and the damp of the grass seeped up through toughened pads.

***

A hyena walked head high into the burrows. She had expected the dogs to be asleep, and to have to wake Elizabeth: a delicate and somewhat hazardous task at the best of times. Instead the burrows were chaotically alive. Elizabeth stood outside; her ears flopped down, shouting agitatedly at George.

“I don’t give a shit what time of flamin’ night it is. He can’t just walk in ‘ere and insult me like this. I ain’t gonna let ‘im get away wi’it!”

The hyena paused. Perhaps this was not the best time for her news. Then again, perhaps it was. She walked straight up to Elizabeth.

“Excuse me, Miss Elizabeth?”

“What the hell do you think ya doin’ ‘ere at this time of night? Doesn’t anyone around ‘ere ever soddin’ sleep? This ‘ad better be bloody good.”

The hyena waited. Standing straight she looked down on the dog’s head. It would be so easy to…

“What the hell are you waitin’ for? Get on with it!”

…well perhaps not. “Miss Elizabeth. The silent one says that “Fleabag” is dead and “Ice Maiden” is running off to the south. She’s on the trail of “Longnose”. It is done just as you commanded.”

“What are you going on about? Why are you even ‘ere?”

“Shaha is dead, Falana is running away and she’s going after the baboon.”

“Are you taking the piss? What is all this?”

“It’s as you said: kill Shaha.”

“Yeah I said it but not now: in two nights flamin’ time! Now you’re telling me she’s gone and done it?”

“Err… yes.”

The dog sat back. For once she had little to say. Her friend lay dead, killed by the lion, joining Mary and Eddie. If he killed or injured any more she wouldn’t have the strength to take him. She could muster eight; that was all. It was enough, just, and now the lion was finally on his own she could still take him down. There was no time to waste. No more planning. No more chances for that stinking cat to cause more trouble. He had to die, that day. She as disappointed that she not get to drag it out as she wanted, but that was perhaps a price worth paying as long as he wasn’t going to live to see another sunset. So where, his rock? No, he’d be expecting that. He’d hole up there. He knew every crack, every boulder, earth clod and pebble of it. No, it had to be where he wasn’t expecting it, somewhere where he could be ambushed; somewhere he’d be sure to go.

They would stay out of his way till the moment was right; there was no point in risking another chance encounter. Then she would avenge Jane’s death. Oh yes, the lion would pay, he would pay dearly. He would pay when it was light: when he was tired and they were fresh. She could do it, she had before. Maybe she could get her vengeance after all.

Not all the dogs shared her confidence. None wanted to share the fate of the one whose crumpled body gave compelling evidence to the fact that she had tried to do something about it.

***

A little after dawn Nengwe and Mtundu passed not far from where the lion had first set pad upon the lands. Nengwe had since come once or twice to this place. He paused and looked north to the forest and mountains beyond, quiet and sleeping now, wondering about what he had left behind. He remembered his father, but now not with fear, but with bitter disgust. His memories of his mother were fonder; richer and warmer now than ever before, especially now