The Huntress at Sunset

9. A First Time for Everything

Falana strode a little behind her mother. She was impatient for the fall of evening.

"Mother, are we getting going or what?"

Shaha stopped suddenly and stared ahead. Falana slid out from her mother's wake and up to her side; sniffing her flank as she passed. Shaha stood still, ignoring her daughter totally.

Falana joined her mother in staring, open mouthed, into the distance. A large furred form passed into the thin shadow thrown from a lone acacia grazed table flat by generations of giraffe. "Just what is that?"

"Falana - That is a lion. You know - one of those big hairy things that like to lie around all day wishing you were in season."

"Yes, but what IS that?"

Shaha paused, trying to make sense of the apparition surmounting the lion's head and shoulders. "I really have no idea."

It came closer and closer. When it was within five or six lengths it smiled. It neared the lionesses and paused, sat down and stared back. The lionesses' eyes held on it, oblivious to the flies that flew about and landed on their faces. The lion seemed pleased with himself. Before the flies became unbearable, he got up and walked purposefully toward the lionesses. He smiled again as he drew close, still their eyes following him without blinking. He moved close enough to feel the older lioness' breath on his neck as he drew himself past her muzzle. Falana closed her eyes as he slid past her, she could feel deep vibrations coming from him: he was actually purring. He turned behind her. Her fur crawled and she shivered at the thought of him brushing along her other flank. She wasn't going to give him the chance. She turned to him, growling loudly:

"What are you doing? What do you want this time?"

The lion seemed quite unperturbed by Falana's hostility.

"Nothing, I just thought..."

Falana snapped at him with bared teeth, "Go away, we're busy."

The lion stopped and jumped back out of claw range.

"B… but… but there are wild dogs about, Falana." She was clearly unimpressed. The lion went on, "They can be very dangerous you know. I couldn't possibly let you go hunting alone."

Shaha appeared much more relaxed than her daughter about the lion's presence and, as she raised and licked a forepaw, asked with only slight curiosity, "Hunting Dogs? Here? Are you sure?"

The lion turned to Shaha, keeping Falana just in view.

"Err, yes. Actually I met some just a while back, but you know how it is."

"Yes?" probed Shaha dubiously, "How is it exactly?"

"I sent them packing with their tails between their legs."

Falana drew back and shook her head to gain his full attention.

"You did? Oh really?" She growled at him scornfully. "Looking like that I'm not surprised they ran away."

"Err…" For a moment he seemed to be wondering just what was wrong with the way he looked. "Yes well, sure I did. They won't mess with me again."

Falana was not at all convinced by the lion's bravado. "Is that right Nen… Nangw… Nemwag..." She shook her head; the flies rose as one, milling around incessantly. "What IS your name exactly?"

The lion noticeably altered his stance, raising his head proudly. "I'm Nengwalamwe, son of…"

"Nengwalamwe?" asked Falana in disbelief. "What kind of a name is that for a lion?"

Nengwalamwe breathed in deeply. "It's traditional. My father is called Nengwala. Names like mine have been in my family for generations."

"So have worms..." said Falana sarcastically, turning away from Nengwalamwe, "Look - I'll just call you… Nengwe. That sounds better doesn't it?"

"Hey, no way! It's Nengwalamwe or nothing. That's my name!" The lion seemed genuinely hurt by the jibe.

Falana looked her mother in the eye and smiled, then turned back to the lion and with a straight face. "Ok Nothing," turning quickly away before he could reply.

Shaha stepped forward suddenly and hooked her head under Falana's chin, forcing her daughter's head up sharply, "Falana!"

Falana pulled her head up abruptly to stand firm with her head held high above her mother's outstretched neck.

"Hey, mother, what do you think you're doing?"

Shaha rumbled tensely. Falana went on, "Nothing, can you hunt?"

The lion fought to be heard as Shaha's rumbles grew louder.

"It's NENGWALAMWE!"

For a few moments the heat of the late afternoon swallowed them all in a dense, tense, cloud of pungent warmth. It was Falana who eventually backed down, retreating in a pair of slow and symbolic paces. She was careful to keep her eyes firmly on the lion as she lowered her head submissively. While she knew what her mother was capable of, she was not at all sure of the newcomer. As the tension fell away, Shaha's rumbles slowly tailed off into inaudibility.

"Whatever," said Falana dismissively. She expected a further rebuke from her mother. It came as a piercing glare that held the promise of the use of well-worn claws. "Well - lion. Can you hunt?"

Nengwalamwe looked surprised. "Me? Hunt? Erm, yeah, I hunt pretty good."

Falana, feeling she had the measure of her mother, continued her sarcastic attack, "Aaah, then it must be the worms that keep you so slim." She drew forward a pace and thrust her head close to the lion's ear. "Do you know the Saffi Nearside Flip Manoeuvre?"

"Sure, I know loadsa others too." He seemed almost pleased with himself. "Why, I probably know more than you do."

"Sure you do… What do you think, mother?"

Shaha just stared at her daughter. "You can't mean… Falana? You don't - do you?"

"Why not mother? Three are better than two. He can work for his keep."

Shaha studied Nengwalamwe for a moment, then she looked to her daughter and finally back to the lion. A gentle smile crept over her. "We'll be the judges of how good you are. Just don't get in the way and let us do the work. You're young enough to be able to learn a few things. Now Falana, we have work to do."

Falana's expression hardened as Shaha turned and passed in front of her.

"Hey! I can hunt!" called Nengwalamwe as Falana and Shaha drew away from him.

"A lion? Hunt? Oh sure," laughed Falana cruelly. "Apart from fluffing up that mane of yours there's only one thing lions are good at - and I reckon you'd mess that up too."

He stood firm as he watched the lionesses walking effortlessly away. He paid particular attention to Falana, who moved with an especially sinuous and attractive ease. They had no intention of waiting for him. If he wanted to eat he was going to have to keep up with them. He took a pace forward and stopped, calling after them: "I offer to protect you and this is all the thanks I get? Come on, lighten up. I'm only trying to do what's right and keep you out of trouble."

Shaha took no notice but Falana hesitated, halting and turning her head back to the lion. "Nengwe, the only thing I've seen you do is try to get to our kill." She began to turn back but instead stopped and called into the moist, rapidly cooling air. "No, I tell a lie - there is something else I've seen you try to do, but I'm telling you now I ain't that sort of lioness."

"I am trying to protect you…!" but Nengwalamwe wasted his breath. The lionesses walked on, drawing away steadily, ignoring his protests.

Shaha leaned over to Falana as they walked side-by-side. She spoke quietly as the lion's rumbles ended. "The Saffi Nearside Flip? What is that? I've seen every one she made but I have never saw that one."

Falana giggled gently. "Nor has Nothing back there..."

~oOOo~

Nothing much happened for some time. Nengwalamwe had decided early on that the best thing for him to do was to watch the lionesses work from a distance. "To get to know your style," he explained. Shaha kept her thoughts to herself.

He did not escape Falana's continued cynicism as he followed the lionesses away from the acacia. She knew that the lion was bluffing his way to a meal but she quietly welcomed him volunteering to keep out of the way. He tried to put her hurtful comments to one side, but they kept on uncomfortably returning to his mind.

He lay and watched the hunt from the summit of a ridge overlooking the rich grazing to the south of the rock, which dominated the distant view. At the bottom of the ridge the slope eased, continuing gently down toward the foot of the rock. Between lay many shallow depressions, some no wider than the length of a tail, others big enough to hide a whole pride of lion. The lionesses were using these to lie up unseen between strikes. The prey, a widely straggling mixed group of gemsbok and other antelope, seemed exceptionally cautious and wary. No matter what moves Falana and Shaha made, the herds managed to sense and possibly even predict them all. Just possibly it had something to do with the large lion lolloping on the distant skyline.

Nengwalamwe watched for over an hour. He lay in a strip of bare ground that extended straight behind him into the distance, paralleled precisely by a second similar strip no more than a length away. Just ahead of the lion the strips faded and then vanished entirely; he had no idea who or what had made them.

In time, long after the final glow of evening had faded leaving the stars shining in the blue-black velvet of the night sky, Nengwalamwe glimpsed Falana's back emerge from the nearest hollow. Shaha followed slowly. They were both tired, though Falana still moved beautifully. 'Hopefully,' the lion thought, 'the edge'll be off her tongue now. I guess she'll not laugh at me anymore.' He smiled in anticipation of taking her down a peg or two. Shaha dragged her tail but her daughter seemed quite unaffected by their fruitless efforts.

"Come on you two, what was that meant to be? You were far too far away for a strike that last time."

Shaha stopped and looked Nengwalamwe straight in the eyes. "Right young Nengwalamwe. It's time you stopped bragging and put that mouth of yours to work."

Falana joined her mother, "Yeah! let's see if you really CAN hunt, 'young' Nengwe."

Nengwalamwe looked about in confusion; he had expected the lionesses to call off the hunt, if only for a while, to rest. He had certainly not expected them to call his bluff.

Falana went on, "You go down there and show us what you can do. Go on; let's see how close you can get." She stifled a laugh.

"What's up with you? What's so funny?"

Falana laughed openly. "Oh, nothing..."

"If you're not going to tell me - I'm not going to show you my hunting skills."

"What hunting skil..." A well-aimed flick of her mother's tail on her hind legs silenced Falana.

Shaha glared at Falana and, seemingly satisfied that she was under control, turned to Nengwalamwe. "Yes, now Nengwalamwe, you can't just lie there and expect us to do all the work for you, can you?"

The lion hurriedly rose to his paws saying, "Well, err… no, I guess not." He looked around distractedly.

"They're that way." Falana pointed her muzzle down the slope in the direction of the distant rock.

"Yeah, I know! I know." Nengwalamwe moved forwards. His forepaws felt oddly empty. They flopped down from his legs and he stumbled as he put his weight on them. His hindpaws felt little better. He lurched away, the lionesses watching him in quiet amusement. Suddenly he fell on his nearside as his paw struck an unfelt and unseen stone embedded in the slope. His downy belly fur flashed white in the starlight as he rolled over. He let out an agonised growl, which he cut short with teeth gritting determination. He heard Falana laugh again. Nengwalamwe gathered himself up from the stony ground, and forcing a smile, turned to the lionesses. He felt a burning coldness in his paws that turned within seconds to a thousand cub claws scratching away at his bones. He was determined that he was not going to give Falana the satisfaction.

He walked away as best he could, soon dropping below the lip of the nearest hollow. He lay down as soon as he was out of sight; rolled over and waved his paws desperately in the air.

~oOOo~

For the next half an hour Nengwalamwe wandered about the silver shadowed savannah trying to look as though he really did know what he was doing. He thought he did know how to hunt. He had caught enough small prey in the half-light of early morning and evening to survive alone for a while, but this was for real and under less than favourable conditions. Small isolated clusters of clouds eclipsed the stars of earlier. As each cloud cast its shadow he had to hold still in case of blundering into anything that might give his position away.

Faint silver shrouded him again. Nengwalamwe grimaced as yet another cramp sent lightening sharp spasms shooting up his haunch. Once he had found his paws he got up from the hollow. For a while he felt good, but bruises were developing where he had fallen on to the protruding stones. His flank and haunch troubled him each time he crept forward; he faltered then gritted his teeth. He filed the pain away in the darkest back corner of his mind, breathing deeply in preparation for his stealthy approach through the starlight-painted grasses.

Lifting his head slightly to catch the air in his nostrils, he tasted the wind again and attempted to smile. The gemsbok were almost within striking distance. Dinner would soon be served and by his father's mane, he was going to do the serving. He hurriedly tried to remember the long lessons his mother had taught him. In those early cubhood days every hunt seemed to lead to a quick and clean kill and the sun always seemed to shine down. This was very different.

Now he was alone and close to the gemsbok, Falana's face swam into his mind again. He gritted his teeth against a fresh surge of pain as another cloud cluster passed, cloaking him completely. When it had passed, in near total darkness, he dared to peek over the waving tops of the grass. He smiled as he made out the huddled forms of the gemsbok only a few lengths away. His shoulder muscles rippled in melodious concert as he crept forward, intending to close for a strike.

What he did not intend to do was stumble over the lip of one of the deeper hollows, invisible among the starlight-silvered long grasses. He stumbled forwards, taken totally by surprise. He struggled, scrabbling noisily with his forepaws to gain purchase. He managed to stop himself, upright, close to the bottom of the depression. His sharp breathing sounded loud, magnified by the bowl. As if on his breath came a powerful smell, one that terrified Nengwalamwe. It spelt danger; it told of tearing claws and ripping teeth. It was the overwhelming and very fresh scent of another male lion. No, it was two male lion; both scents were distinct but similar, brothers perhaps. He had found what could only have been strong, fresh signs of Yali's father, and whoever he was he certainly was not alone.

Roaring in confusion, he turned violently to escape the scent and the danger it brought. As he turned, his injured haunch collapsed under him and he tumbled back to the bottom of the hollow. The pain pounded him. He lashed out blindly, scoring the ground his claws. Somehow in his panic he managed to scramble to his paws and lurch wildly, his sides heaving, out of the hollow, accompanied suddenly by the wild yelping of unseen hyena. The gemsbok herd panicked, storming away in a cacophony of dust and noise; mothers calling continuously as they sought to keep track of their young and indeed each other in the panic.

Once away from the depression Nengwalamwe's senses cleared and he remembered the lionesses watching from the ridge. He had to redeem the situation, and his lost honour. He somehow managed to hurl himself after the herd: his paws scrabbling madly in the dusty earth. His eyes watered from the dust and the stabbing pain that flowed from his haunch with each stride as he rapidly closed the gap. His breath burned in his lungs as he sought and then launched himself at a slow old male at the rear of the herd, intending to land upon its shoulders and knock and drag him down.

He misjudged the strike and leapt too late, bringing him crashing down on the prey's rump instead of its shoulders. Whether it was the scent of the lions or his fear of looking a fool in front of Falana that had unsettled him he could not tell, and did not care. The gemsbok bucked and thrashed, throwing its head up and screeching in fear as Nengwalamwe's claws desperately sought holds in his sides, but finding none. The young lion lurched wildly, growling in fear and frustration as he felt his claws lose their hold. The gemsbok's rump bounced up and slammed into his chin. He cried out helplessly. Sky, stars, clouds and earth blurred together for a second. Then they asserted themselves roughly as he slammed down to the hard earth, his breath tearing from his lungs in a ragged gasp. He lay still where he fell.

He watched blearily as the now injured gemsbok galloped away to rejoin the herd, disappearing fast into the depths of the night. Then the rolling dust around him parted and the shadowy form of a lioness coalesced from the darkness.

"Nothing?" Falana padded forward uncertainly, sniffing for the lion. "Nengwalamwe? Answer me, damn you!"

Nengwalamwe drew in a ragged breath that burned like fire and coughed. "Over here," he said weakly.

Falana's eyes lit up in fury. "What in that stupid name of that father of yours did you think you were doing?"

Behind her, Shaha glided silently, her expression grave and unforgiving.

Nengwalamwe looked to her with pleading eyes. "I was trying to close in like you said..."

"I never said for you to try to kill yourself! What do you think we're doing out here, playing cub games?" With a growl of frustration, Falana turned from the lion and trotted away towards the hollow, mumbling to herself under her breath.

Nengwalamwe looked miserably at Shaha; her silent form doubling, then trebling in his vision as he fought back a sudden wave of confusion. "I'm sorry. I didn't expect…"

"I know." She drew forward and gently caressed his forehead with her tongue, licking away the blood that trickled down his face from a cut on his ear. "I don't like mistakes; but I don't expect perfection either." She smiled humourlessly. "If I've learned anything, it's that nobody's perfect."

Nengwalamwe looked at her, feeling like a cub again as if peering into his mother's face at bath time. The soft touch of her tongue brought a weight of memories down on him. Thoughts of a time where all he knew was the warmth of his mother's belly, the soft sound of her voice, and the gentle thrum of her heartbeat in his ear. "I'm sorry, Melakwe… I shouldn't have left, it's hard for me to get used to being alone."

She broke contact and drew back. "Well, you'd better get used to it. I'm not your mother!" Her face was set. "We don't have much time. Tomorrow I want you to work with Falana a little and get some sort of understanding going. I can't allow another botched strike like that. It was either very brave, or very foolish. You've got heart young Nengwalamwe, I'll give you that, but I think you lied about that brain."

"Yes ma'am."

"Hey!" Falana called from the hollow. "Come on you two, look what Nothing's found!"

Shaha's set expression loosened. Nengwalamwe lay still. "Are you hurt Nengwalamwe?"

"No, I'm all right." He tried to lift his forequarters from the ground. His pads slid across the earth. "Really, I am."

"You had better be. Now then..."

"Hey? Are you two coming or what?"

Shaha turned away from the lion and started towards the call. "All right Falana, I'm on my way. What is it?"

Nengwalamwe took four deep breaths and forced himself to his paws and walked unsteadily after Shaha, his tail dragging in the dust as he followed her away.

~oOOo~

What Falana had found turned out to be the carcass of an adolescent gemsbok. It was fresh and barely touched. It looked likely to be hyena kill, judging by the all-pervading scent that hung in the hollow. Nengwalamwe refused to follow Shaha and stayed at the lip.. Eventually Shaha dragged the carcass up the slope to where the lion lay licking his wounds. Although Falana had found it, it was obvious to the lionesses that Nengwalamwe had chased off the hyenas guarding the carcass and that it thus was his kill. Falana neither knew nor cared why the lion had then gone after the bulk of the herd. Shaha, however, paused to consider the question and to remember her own long forgotten experiences in these hollows.

Shaha took quite a time to investigate the carcass, peering at it while Nengwalamwe, having overcome his fears of the hollow, noisily ripped the hindquarters apart. If she saw through Nengwalamwe to the truth, she certainly didn't show it; and eventually joined him and her own daughter in devouring the evidence.

The three made little sound as they ate. The savannah around them was alive with noisy life; none of which dared disturb the eating lions. Back in Kolata, Nengwalamwe had become so used to the almost constant harassment by hyena and even jackals that he now felt somewhat disturbed by their absence. The rare treat of being able to eat in peace apparently passed as normality on these lands. Nengwalamwe felt that he would probably get used to it in time.

Falana kept on giving him foul looks and flicking him with her tail as he bolted down each and every mouthful. Falana, and even more so Shaha, ate comparatively delicately and slowly, even having time to clean their lips every now and again. After a while Nengwalamwe too thought that looked like a very good idea. As soon as his tongue touched his fur he felt the eyes of ten or more ravenous phantom hyena burning into him and he returned to the kill for another massive comforting mouthful.

He rose before the lionesses and moved away to pace back and forth along the rim of the hollow. While the lionesses ate on he looked and listened to the night and its fleeting shadows.

"What are you doing?" enquired Falana as Nengwalamwe paced past her tail yet again.

"I'm looking for hyena."

"Why?"

"I've got to look after you two."

"Go and look after us somewhere else. You're putting me off my food."

Nengwalamwe paused close to Falana and looked down at her; she had already turned back to the carcass. She twitched an ear as if to rid herself of an irritating fly. Nengwalamwe felt a sharp sting on his belly and heard the lioness's tail flick back on to the ground beneath him. Shaha said and did nothing. She concentrated on eating throughout the short exchange.

When they had all feasted they began to talk about hunts and hunting. Shaha, at least, appeared quite pleased that new possibilities were opening up for the lionesses, having a lion to help might turn out to be a good thing. For a while Nengwalamwe felt as though he might have begun to win Shaha's trust.

"Right, until you get used to working with my daughter and I, I don't want you doing anything until I tell you to do it. Is that clear?" She looked at Nengwalamwe, more in the manner of a kindly school ma'am than a mother or partner. "You won't do us any good if you're trampled by the herd out there."

"Thank you for caring about me," he said gently sneering as his hormones returned fuelled by fresh gemsbok.

"I care about all of us. I don't want us getting trampled because you move at the wrong moment. Do you understand?"

Nengwalamwe swallowed heavily and nodded, he realised that his optimism had been misplaced. 'Weakness comes from caring' he remembered. He sat up and raised a forepaw in readiness for washing it. "Yeah, I got it."

Falana rose to stand beside her mother.

"Very well," Shaha said, "let's go then, shall we?" She stepped forward but then stopped. "Just what IS that thing on your head?"

"What 'thing'? What are you talking about?" Without another word, the elderly lioness smiled and turned, flicking her tail against Nengwalamwe's cheek and then over his head, forcing him to flatten one ear tight into his mane.

When moments later a hyena bayed a little way off, the lionesses ignored it. Nengwalamwe set off in the direction of the call, more in the hope of appearing to be doing something useful than because of any actual threat.

~oOOo~

With Nengwalamwe gone, Shaha and Falana left the few remains and made their way back to Silent Rocks. Shaha slipped through the thin grasses with robust grace and hardly a whisper from the dry grass. Falana stepped forward and followed behind her mother, with a smug expression on her face at seeing the young male put in his place so properly. She smiled to herself saying under her breath:

"Now that's the way to treat a cub..."