ACHT

Wachsamkeit

Several hours passed before Hermann once again heard the sound of an engine in the distance. Despite having almost no command of the English language, it seemed that Markos had been successful in his negotiations, as the car held not only him, but also a pair of mattresses, two sleeping bags, a soccer ball, flashlights, and two large-caliber rifles. Hermann, in the meantime, had somehow managed to string up an enormous German flag over the cave entrance, with a Stuttgart Football Club pennant flapping in the breeze next to it. While Markos went inside to set up the sleeping arrangements, Hermann conversed with the pride regarding setting up a sentry system.

"I think it's best to take it in rotating shifts of several hours each," he explained. "There's no way word won't filter back that this attack was unsuccessful, so we have to be prepared for anything."

"What do we do if we see something?" asked a lioness.

"You let everyone else know, but in addition, you pull down the German flag over the entrance. If you can confirm that what you're seeing is a threat, both flags come down. That way, even if someone doesn't hear anything, they have a visual signal, like a ship with signal flags. Markos and I will take the rifles and set up on a high spot, and try our best to take out anything before it gets here, if it turns out to be a genuine threat and not a false alarm."

"Which one is the German flag again?"

"It's the flag with the yellow, red and black bars…the bigger one of the two. Don't touch those rifles," he added, "those are for the two of us and nobody else."

Having thus settled who would stand guard at what time, Hermann walked back inside where Markos had finished setting everything up. "Did you happen to get any food while you were out there?" Markos asked.

"No, I'm afraid we're limited to potato chips and water this evening, unless there's something freshly-dead lying around. We have the things to make a fire, but there's no use in making one unless we have something to cook." Markos had to agree that wasting firewood would be a stupid thing to do, especially since potato chips wouldn't taste any better on the barbeque. He made a mental note to ask about finding fresh meat the next day, and tore into some bland-tasting pretzels.

"Pretend it's a New York strip steak," Hermann said jokingly as he watched his friend choke the pretzels down. "Who knows, maybe there are some animals around here that taste just as good, and we've got the rifles and plenty of rounds. I always did wonder what a gazelle tastes like…probably from watching one too many nature specials as a kid."

"That reminds me, shouldn't we practice with these rifles at some point? If we ever have to actually use them, it might help to know how to use them." Hermann agreed that a bit of practice could never hurt, and so he went outside with Markos to find a suitable spot.

A few minutes later…

"First, load the shell in the chamber, then close the bolt, put the end of the stock into your shoulder, and rest your cheek on the comb," Hermann explained once he had everything situated. Many of the lions had gathered around to watch his shooting lesson, unaware of just how bad Markos was with a gun. "Look through the sights and line them up with your target…see that white rock about 50 yards away? That's what you're trying to hit."

"Yes, I think see it. Do I shoot now?"

"No, before that you have to inhale, then exhale only slightly and squeeze the trigger while you're holding your breath in. That helps you hold the barrel still. Got all that?"

"I think so."

"OK then, fire when you're ready."

A massive crack rang out, and Hermann saw a distant low-circling vulture plummet out of the sky. "Just a liiiiiittle high," he said, hoping that nobody else had noticed the result of Markos's errant shot. "Make sure you don't jerk the gun up as you pull the trigger."

Markos chambered another round, lined up his sights with the white rock, and tried again. A small shrub to the left of the target rock summarily exploded.

"Am I getting any closer?"

"Only if you're planning on shooting at something the size of an aircraft carrier. Maybe the sights are off…let me try it."

Hermann took the rifle from Markos, lay down on his stomach, and broke the rock in half with his shot. "Nope, the gun's fine. Do it again."

By this time, the lions that had come to watch Hermann and Markos's target practice had rather tired of watching Markos miss time and again, but Hermann wasn't about to let his friend leave without hitting something.

Bang.

"Again."

Bang.

Another unfortunate bush was vaporized in a cloud of dust.

"Again!"

Bang.

Finally, Markos hit what he was aiming at. Hermann was still far from confident in his friend's abilities in handling a rifle, but he figured that the practice had been time well-spent. Even so, despite his own skill with a firearm, he hoped that he would never have to even look at the rifles until the day he returned to Germany. When he went back inside with Markos, he was relieved to see that the gunfire had not woken up Kopa, who was still very much asleep in the back of the cave, next to his mother. The same could not be said, however, for all the other lions, who were lying strewn around the floor with their paws clapped over their ears. "Sorry about that," said Hermann. "He can't shoot worth a damn."

From all around them came a unanimous reply: "We've noticed!"