The Huntress at Sunset

10. Time Together

Fed and refreshed, Nengwalamwe looked half-heartedly for the hyena for much of the night. He caught its scent, clear and foul, and followed it for a short while. It led back in the general direction of his rock. Everything seemed to be lead there, away from the lionesses. Once again, he had failed to make any positive impression on them. He decided that he had better leave them alone for a while. Falana had made a fool of him, and for that she would have to pay, but she'd do it when he was good and ready, just like his father would have done. Getting ready was going to be a problem, but first he had to rid himself of whatever the baboon had put on his mane. Who better to sort that out than he who had done the deed? Falana was going to pay for her disrespect and so too would the baboon, only sooner.

The leisurely hyena chase eventually turned into a rather more urgent and purposeful baboon hunt. This baboon was not to be prey; gemsbok tastes much better, and doesn't talk. His mother always said, "Nengwe, never eat anything that talks, their last words will stick in your throat." He had eaten baboon only three times, and two of those he had not killed. The first had appeared one evening floating amongst the white water hyacinth at the side of the widest pool on the Kolata. An aunt had called him over to share it. The young Nengwalamwe had been afraid to try it at first, but the lioness enjoying the bloated meat soon changed his mind. The thought that the baboon, an adult female, couldn't swim, for the water had somehow claimed her life, surprised him.

The second, the baboon he met on his flight out of Kolata, was the only one he had both talked to and killed. Its death had been a necessity born of survival. It had sustained him in the mountains, through both its flesh and its words, and anyway, its eyes had been too close together.

His final baboon had become a much more recent meal. Shortly after Nengwalamwe had come down from the mountains, he had come across a male lying dead on a hillock. He looked untouched and fresh, though cold. His twisted eyes, though dull and lifeless, still bore witness to a terrifying death. There were few marks on his body - other than the deep tooth cuts on either side of his neck from which his life had flown. The marks were closer together than Nengwalamwe's teeth. He suspected they might have been a leopard's, though why it had not taken the body away to eat was a mystery. It seemed to almost to be some kind of warning, though of what and to whom Nengwalamwe could not tell. He stood close by for some time, watching for any scavengers or even for the leopard, whom he felt must still be close by, watching and waiting. When he felt sure there were no signs of any other claimants, he set upon the body hungrily; nothing disturbed him.

Throughout the night, as the lion searched for the baboon, the clouds gathered and slid through the sky in great gathered and folded clumps, casting rushing shadows. Nengwalamwe eventually found his quarry high on the crags above the lion's adopted rocky home. When Nengwalamwe called, the baboon came to him voluntarily. Indeed, he was almost friendly. The lion showed his displeasure, all teeth and bad breath; the baboon soon found himself picking at Nengwalamwe's mane, pulling out every piece of hard-dried mud. The lion had never seen, up close, any living animal with opposable thumbs; he marvelled at the dexterity and precision with which the baboon used them. They were not so much paws as hands, and were evidently capable of picking out individual fleas from the deepest of Nengwalamwe's fur. However good the baboon's hands were, however, Nengwalamwe knew it would take hours of careful licking and paw dragging to restore lustre to his mane. No amount of washing was ever going to fully restore his pride.

Nengwalamwe lay still watching the dawn, then yawned wide enough to span Mtundu's head from ear to ear with space enough between his white-faced tongue and his upper teeth to fit the baboon's legs in as well. Mtundu frowned, blinked and shook his head.

"Wooh! Am I glad I ain't no zebra..."

The lion shook his head as he brought his jaws back together. The baboon withdrew his hands from Nengwalamwe's mane as it began to buck and twist under them.

"Yo! Kinda touchy today ain't ya?"

The lion settled his head back on his forepaws, licking his dark lips. Then pushed his head forward and down, dragging his tongue over a small patch of slightly disarranged fur on the upper part of a foreleg. At the end of the stroke, he closed his eyes and drew his tongue back to his lips so that just the tip showed. He lifted his head and repeated the process.

"Cummon Nengwe, keep still! How can I pick your mane if ya do that? Huh?"

Nengwalamwe paused mid-stroke and looked up straight-faced at the baboon sitting at his side.

"Get on with it - and my name's Nengwalamwe if you remember… Your name's 'food' if you don't." He paused and looked back to the glowing horizon, marvelling at its chilled beauty. "I just… I don't understand lionesses - you know."

"Wha'dya lookin' at me foor? I don't get them either, I ain't a lion y'know."

Nengwalamwe managed a smile. "Yeah, I guess I got to work it out for myself, eh?" He shook his mane, releasing a cascade of tiny mud crumbs.

Mtundu jumped away screeching, raising his upper lip and exposing his teeth threateningly. He swiped angrily at the lion's head, narrowly missing his ear. "What do ya think ya doin'? I ain't gonna mess with you no more! Cain't you keep still? Well cain'tya?"

The lion ignored Mtundu. He had no idea that a baboon was meant to sit still when he was being groomed.

"You know, I ought to take Falana just to show her who's got the mane around here."

"Take her? Yeah, right. That's real smart - like that's really gonna make her want to bring up your stinkin' cubs."

"I'm not talking about cubs" He shook his head again, a little less mud fell to the rock. "I'm talking about her."

"Is that what you really wanna do? Really?" Mtundu paused and stood back, "Why?"

"She made me look a fool. Now I want to make her feel a fool. I'll have her and she knows it."

"Oh yeah. She'd feel a fool all right - the one on her back. Think - you can take her once when she don' wan' it - revenge might feel sweet at the time. But think how much sweeter it'd be if you could have her whenever she was willing eh? Am I right?" He stepped forward again and nudged the lion's head with his elbow. "Or am I right?"

"What do you know? You ain't had a lioness..." Nengwalamwe looked round suddenly and peered at the hazy, dark fuzziness that looked to be the baboon. "Have you?"

"Well, kinda. It's not like we were promised or nuffin'." The baboon shrugged with his arms bent at the elbows into a wide 'w'. "It's kinda fun - hanging out together - you know."

"Mtundu! Who is it?" Nengwalamwe asked; his curiosity peaked by the baboon's evasion.

"Yeah. Like I'm gonna tell you, so you or the lionesses can eat her."

"No, I'd never do that." The lion smiled, "Well, only if she's fat and juicy."

Mtundu peered down his muzzle at Nengwalamwe, tilting his head and blinking, "Huh?"

~oOOo~

Mtundu fended off Nengwalamwe's further probing with remarkable reticence. The need for sleep eventually drained the lion, despite his determination, leaving Mtundu to groom him until he was far away from the rock. Mtundu did not tire, flag nor shy away from his obligation. He picked through every hair of the lion's mane as if his life depended on it, which, of course, it did.

The sun climbed higher in the sky and with it Mtundu grew increasingly anxious. He kept looking at the length of the dwindling shadows thrown by the rock high above him, as if they had a power over him far greater than that of a lion.

The lion did eventually wake, but not before Mtundu had scratched with a fearful, wavering hand at the loose fur and skin between his shoulders. Without opening his eyes the lion murmured, a gentle stirring from deep within. Then he shook and lifted his head and with half closed eyes said with a self-satisfied laugh, "Next time the earth moves Falana, it won't be an earthquake."

"You treat her with respect you hear!" Mtundu blurted tensely. The lion looked round, his eyes brightening rapidly until he saw the baboon standing over him. His expression changed instantly.

"You're not still here are you?"

"Yeah, I guess I am." Nengwalamwe groaned and shrank back to the rock. The baboon continued, "I hear she's old enough to be your mother."

"Falana's not old: she's mature."

"So ya do fancy her. All the more reason to be cool with her."

"I don't 'fancy' her! I might well never see her again."

"Yeah, right, so what have you got me spending half the day prissing you up for? Come on, I know what yer go'in do later."

"Mtundu, you talk too much, and mostly from the wrong end!" Nengwalamwe smiled, raising his eye ridges, "Anyway, I might not be going to see her."

"Right, and warthogs fly. You're not going to take her because you fancy her don't ya?"

"NO MONKEY! You don't know me at all. Look, you'll see. She's going to know what kind of lion I really am."

"From what you said I reckon she already does." Mtundu looked at the shadows, and then at the sky and suddenly became inexplicably agitated. "Jeez, I gotta run. See ya!".

Before Nengwalamwe could answer, the baboon ran off scuttling over the rock in great swinging strides involving all his limbs. "What was that all about? Baboons - never eat anything that talks. Yeah, right, I should eat them all before they get a chance to talk." He growled under his breath. 'Now then, he had better have sorted my mane out.' He reached down with his tongue and wetted the back of a forepaw with four short forward licks. He turned his head over on its side, closing his eyes and dragging his turned-over paw through the fur between his ears, again and again. Finished, he lifted his head up and looked down to his paw - it was perfectly clean with not even tiniest speck of mud clinging to the damp fur.

~oOOo~

With his shadow lying nonchalantly directly beneath him, Nengwalamwe stood on the threshold of his promontory home and looked out over his kingdom. He thought he was doing well. He didn't feel hungry. He felt safe - at least now the dogs were leaving him alone. He felt proud to be the ruler of all this, even if there were no one that know he ruled them. This rock was his throne and his home, as anything with half a nose would have sensed from fifty lengths or more. 'All a king needs,' he thought, 'is here, or out there… or even a queen, but I'm never going to have cubs, no chance - no way, no way!' He smiled, quivering slightly with his own pleasure.

"Would you please stay put, Mr. Zebra?"

Nengwalamwe smiled wryly that the familiar voice, thinking, 'Well, no cubs of my own...' He looked round; sure enough there was Yali, stretched out, her belly hugging the searingly hot rock, her tail curling up into the air.

"Don't you zebra know you're meant not to see me?"

"Oh, aren't they?" Then he added kindly, "Sorry, I mean, aren't I."

"Yes you. Did you hear me?"

Nengwalamwe answered honestly. "No, not until you told me to stay still. Err, I don't know if I really want to know this, but am I your next meal?"

"Why? Don't you want to be?"

"Well, I'd rather not be eaten just yet. Am I allowed to run away?"

"I guess so, but where'd you go?"

Yali's words echoed with the innocent truth of youth. Where indeed would Nengwalamwe run? If Yali had been a leopard rather than a lion cub then Nengwalamwe would have had to stand and fight. While Yali still had the camouflage spotting of all lion cubs, she was, thankfully, no leopard. The rock perhaps wasn't as safe as he had first supposed. What he needed was someone else to lie and watch from the other end of the promontory. This was a place for a pride and not just one lion. He looked around, just in case anything had followed Yali up the rocks.

"I guess so too. So is this where you pounce on me?"

"Yeah, if you'll just eat that grass there."

He looked down and saw the bare rock, 'Hmm, wonder what it tastes like.' He moved forward slightly, straightening his forelegs as much as he could and positioning them in rough triangle in a manner surprisingly not totally unlike the animal he was attempting to imitate. His neck, far shorter than a zebra's, was less co-operative. He flicked his tail around his hindquarters as best he could to send the flies on his side, more real than imaginary, unlike the zebra, to endlessly circling flight. 'Yuerrrchggh, does anything actually eat this stuff?' He waited for the little lioness to pounce. Tashi had been right, he did make a great target.

~oOOo~

Yali loved pouncing: butterflies, birds, snakes, tails, they are all one to young cubs. She had had few chances to practise her pounce for a long while, and if Nengwalamwe was prepared to play then Yali was going to take him for all she was worth. She dropped back a few paces, stopped and pulled back on her shoulders with everything she had. Her haunches straining and rippling in tension; her soft pads griped tightly, adhering to the rock.

Chin to the stone, underfur almost curling from the heat below, tail - where was that tail? Down tail. Deep breath in. Up eyes, check prey - Go! Pads feel like they are tearing off the rock, claws hit hard as paws twist, joints ache and muscles quiver, Oh that tail! There it goes again! The air rushing under lifts the belly. Head forced up, rest of the body follows, streaming forward. First pace – off forepads hit hard, but soften the shock, felt high in the shoulder, right to the bone. Near forepaw falls moments before near hind. Spine bends high. Must hold tail up - it hurts if it slaps the ground. Offhind down, forced back now, let spine uncoil and tail drop. Head stays level, eyes fixed on the prey. No ground contact now, off forepaw held under, turning it down as it nears the ground. Second pace - hurts less, speed building, knees aching, tail loosing it again. Breathe - feel it burn inside. Not far, one pace more. Head down, forget tail now. Push up more than forward on the forelegs, push back with the hind: leap! If the prey doesn't know I'm coming, it soon will. Claws out, jaws gaping, go for it! NO! Claws in! Claws IN! IN! Roar OUT….

Too far, too fast, too late! Miss his tail, hit the rock - hard. Tumble over, land on back - slipping, ripping, not gripping. Hit something, something soft yet hard and warm and furry. Stop….. nice smell, strong smell, familiar smell… safe smell.

"Hey! Where are going?"

Lie still, you're home - safe at home.

"Are you all right Yali?"

Think - feels OK, tender but all in one piece. Don't worry about tail, "Yeah, I guess so…"

"You're not much good at this are you?"

The lion looks down at me, he's sorta upside down. Is that 'looks up' then?

"I used to be better."

"Yeah, right - so did I."

He smiles, he bends up… no down, I feel his breath on my cheek… then his tongue rasping up, down, whatever.

"You're nice - I like you."

"Oh do you now? And why's that?

Giggle a bit.

"Heehhe Nengwe, 'cos you let your mane down now an' again."

"And what's that supposed to mean little lioness?"

"Oh, nothing." Giggle again, 'Yeah - nothing's right.'

"Hmmm, so you must be Falana's daughter. I can see a bit of her in your eyes."

'No I can't laugh, I mustn't.' "Oh no, no, " giggles again, 'I am allowed to giggle a bit aren't I?' "Quite the opposite."

"Eh? Who else's can you be?"

The lion slicks back his mane, 'Who's he doing that for? As if I didn't know.' When he's finished he looks back, twitches an ear and does it all over again.

"You like to look really cool don't you? Is it for a lioness?"

"NO! No. I just like to look good. Not that you'd know anything about that."

"Yeah, you got a lioness all right," giggles again.

"No way cubbie. I'm never going to be tied down to a lioness."

"What about three?" 'He's gonna be mad at me now.' The lion stares down sternly. "Yeah, I'm gonna get the 'cubs shouldn't talk like that' speech aren't I?' His stare turns to a gentle smile."Or any. I'm free to do what I like, when I like… with whom I… err..."

"Yeah Nengwe?" 'Oh no, that's gone and done it, he hates being called Nengwe, doesn't he?'

"It's NENGWALAMWE!" Nengwalamwe looks up in surprise, more sort of along really. That's the thing about being a cub: you're always smaller than everyone else.

"Yeah, whatever." 'He kinda looks worried now, why?' "What's up Nengwalamwe?"

"Err, does my mane look all right?"

"Yeah, it's great. Like a… mane. Why? Who you meeting?"

"No one." He draws away self-consciously and licks again. "It just got into a mess earlier."

"You been wallowing in the waterhole again?"

"What do you mean 'again'? Eh?" He comes close, almost whispers, "Well, I'll tell you this: Don't ever trust baboons."

"Ooo right." Yali pounces on something in the grass, just a little cubby pounce this time, "Err, why Nengwe?"

"Ooooooooooo." He shakes his head. He settles down and goes on, "I let one pick it for me. I think he must have put mud in it, or something."

"Oh, so that's what it was!"

"You saw that? Who hasn't around here? It must have looked really stupid."

"Sure I saw it. I thought it looked kinda cute."

"Cute! I don't do cute. I do..." He growls gently, "...Lion! I might be king around here one day." He looks back quickly, "Are you sure my mane's all right?"

"Yes, sure I'm sure. Now just stop going on about it, you're almost as bad as my sister."

"Sister? What sister?"

'This pouncing's fun!'

"Ahh skip it Cubbie. Yali, look, I gotta go."

"Why? Don't you like playing with me?"

"Of course I do, but I gotta go and do… kingy things - you know."

"OK, I know. I'll see you again. won't I? You do still like me don't you?"

"Yes, sure I do. Look, you can see me whenever you like. But right now I really gotta run." He turns away, bounces a few paces, and then looks back. He sees nothing.

"Mother?" Growled Falana, "Mother? Are you listening to me? You've got that far away look again."

"What?"

"Mother?"

"Are you ready Falana?"

Falana look puzzled, as if Shaha was part of an entirely different conversation, "Ready Mother? You know I won't be for half a moon yet."

"No, not that. Nengwalamwe'll be here soon."

"No he won't. He'll not show up. I know his kind: all mouth and no claws." she flicked the mid-afternoon's flies from her open flank with her tail.

"I think you'll find there's a little more to him than that. I'm sure he will turn up."

"Is that so mother? What makes you so sure eh?"

"Trust me. I'm your mother - he'll be here, and you had better be ready for him."

Falana turned away, "At least that's one thing I can't do anything about..."

~oOOo~

Towards sunset the wind stirred, wavered and then gathered its strength. It took the promise of rain from the mountains and gave it to the plains below. It was full, forming a warm, heavy blanket that fluttered and flapped over the grasslands. Two lions walked steadily, one behind the other, their coats glowing in the low late afternoon sun. The sharp light picked out every hair of the male's magnificent mane. Where they were going few around them cared, as long as it wasn't toward them. A few took interest, however, watching from distant thickets, hollows and kopjes. The lions did not see their watchers.

One of the lions stopped and lifted her head, looking about anxiously, "How much farther is it Nothing?" The other took no notice and carried on walking, paw after paw after paw. "Hey, you - Nengwe!" The leader stopped and looked back.

"Yeah? Can't you keep up?"

"Nengwe, we ought not be here, this is dog country." She looked around once more, "Is it much farther?"

"Why? Is the heat getting to you lioness? You haven't got any stamina have you?"

"Look here lion, I can match you all the way. Anything you can do I can do long after you've given up."

"Is that a promise?"

"Nengwe! Just how much farther is it to this rock of yours? If my mother hadn't insisted, I wouldn't even be bothering with you at all, and there's no way I'd let myself be dragged out here to see some dunghill of a rock."

"Nengwe, Nengwe this, Nengwe that! I'm Nengwalamwe!"

"Whatever. Are we there yet?"

"We'll soon be able to see it. Once we're over the next ridge we'll be almost there."

"Shut up and lie down," replied the lioness urgently. She dropped to the ground; her eyes fixed on the horizon way beyond him.

The lion was confused and not a little surprised and was not at all sure if he should be pleased, or afraid. Falana, it seemed, was a lioness of unpredictably changing moods.

"Why?" Then he decided he should be pleased after all and stepped towards her. "Why Falana," he said smiling, "this is so sudden!"

She lashed a foreleg out at him, "Shut it and stow it - quick!" he lurched back in surprise. Her paw made glancing contact. Surprised, that is, that she had had her claws fully retracted and had unleashed the swipe with little force. He stumbled backwards, flailing his tail in an effort to retain balance.

"Hey, what was that for?" He growled and grumbled as he regained his composure, "What have I done this time? What is it with you? Do you hate everyone - or just me?"

She bore into him with her eyes, the sort of look an angry mother gives her wayward cubs. He sank down to the ground somewhat frightened, and a somewhat in awe of her power and determination. Even now, as she tensed ready for the pounce, Falana was graceful and controlled. She held her tail out motionless on the ground behind her. Her head was firm and precisely level and fixed. Only her sides moved with each steady, slow and silent breath. Nengwalamwe realised was afraid of her meteoric temper. He was very much a lion of habit and the unknown frightened him, as it had in the mountains and forests during his flight from Kolata. Here was a lioness, every day as old as his mother, behaving with no more steadiness than Llasani and her cousin. That was what reached into him and stirred his fear: not her teeth, her claws nor her bone-cracking jaws.

"Food," she said curtly.

"Food?"

"Yes, Nenwag…whatever it is, food! Now keep quiet and leave this one to me. It's not spotted us yet. Though it must be blind, a mole rat would have seen your mane from the other side of the plain."

'Food? Is that what she's on about - she's wasting time over a snack.' He looked into her staring eyes and saw his mother staring back. "What is 'it'?" he asked uncertainly, "Is it enough for two?"

"Baboon."

"Falana, you really do hate me don't you?"

"Not you, you monkey! - it!"

"Oh… so you do, I mean, don't think I'm a monkey?"

"You're not that stupid, though you have If the nose sit on the face…"

He half closed his eyes and looked on, feeling her moist breath land on his cheek.

She went on, "This one really is stupid - he's actually coming towards us! Keep down and let me take it."

"Don't you think I can have a look too?"

Behind Nengwalamwe, the grass gave way to rough scrub; a jumble of low bushes interspersed with patches of bare almost infertile earth. Falana was too experienced not to consider the available cover. If she said she could take it then she could, of that even Nengwalamwe was sure. Yet, for some reason she held back; tensed ready for the spring.

"It's seen us! Come on Stupid, come to mamma, you're still just too far away."

Nengwalamwe's curiosity burned him; he felt he simply had to look. He curled his head round over his off shoulder. The horizon slid round in an arc until Falana's precious prey came into view. It was scurrying towards them, and it looked as if it had indeed seen the lions, and yet was quite unafraid. Nengwalamwe suddenly stood up, smiling broadly.

"What in the rains do you think you're doing? Get down! You're ruining everything!"

"No I'm not," he said laughing, "anyway you can't eat him."

The prey ran a little faster towards them. Falana began to shake and her breath became light and erratic.

"Nengwe, how could you tell from so far away?" she asked incredulously, "Quick let's get out of here now! Whatever it's got I don't want to catch it - it's mad, it's got to be. It's seen you, it's running towards us! I'm getting out of here - now!" She tried to back away, still crouching, though now more in fear. Her awkward and uncomfortable wriggling was quite unlike her accustomed grace. Nengwalamwe reached down to her squirming neck and closed upon it gently but firmly, just as his mother had so often done to him when he had tried to escape punishment. She stopped moving the instant the skin of her neck tightened between the lion's teeth. As was her body, so was her fear restrained by the great warmth and tension bearing down on her. Apart from a quick scrabble of her hind legs, she didn't move while the infected prey closed on them.

"Nengwe; Jeez, have I been looking all over for you!"

"Nnngngnff" He replied through a mouth full of scruff.

"You lions had better learn to talk proper," the baboon said, his amused expression breaking into a smile. He saw the lioness' head protruding from under Nengwalamwe's mane. "Hey lad, did I interrupt sometin'?"

"No you didn't!" growled the lioness angrily.

"Sore-ry lady! I didn't mean nuttin' by it." He paused as she grumbled incoherently. He looked up his friend.

"Come on Nengwe, ain't ya gonna introduce me?"

She growled again, "Introduce you? You!" She struggled again but Nengwalamwe's grip held firm but without piercing her skin. "Nengwalamwe! Let me go!"

"Only if you're not going to run off on me."

"Nengwalamwe! LET GO! NOW!"

He thought for a moment, his eyes looking over to the baboon giving the silent message, 'My life isn't going to be worth living if I don't let go soon.' The baboon shrugged. He had not known lions for long enough to be able to interpret such gestures, interpreting those of his own kind was difficult enough at times, particularly those of females.

The lion rose gently, keeping a tight hold on the lioness' neck. She grimaced as she followed upwards, her expression was clear: she didn't like this at all. Nengwalamwe paused, the lioness, still scruffed, heaving powerfully in his jaws. He looked to the baboon again.

Mtundu shrugged again, trying to add smile.

'I guess,' thought Nengwalamwe, 'that means: yes, go ahead.' He took a deep, noisy breath in through his nostrils. He suddenly let go and instantly drew back, expecting the lioness to jump up at him. She did with glaring teeth and tightly drawn back lips.

"Go on cubbie, introduce me to the loony babboonie!" She scowled angrily.

"OK," he said, trying to manage a half-smile, "as long as you promise not to hunt him."

She roared angrily. "Don't push it cubbie!" Mtundu started but held his ground bravely. "Wait a moment…" She turned to Mtundu with bared teeth and hot breath. "You - Monkey - did you say something?"

"Who me? Lady, are you talkin' to me?" He presented his array of bared teeth. "Yeah, I spoke; you wanna make something of it?"

"But you can't, you're stupid. Everyone knows baboons can't talk."

"Everyone but me lady, and my family, and friends, and heck lady, the whole damn lot of us. Hell, even my youngest brother talks, and he sure is dumb."

She shook her head. "But you can't - you just can't, it's not possible."

"Sure it's possible. Ain't I provin' it?"

She stood motionless. All her anger spent, she lay down speechless and confused.

"Nengwe. I told you she was sumtin' else, didn't I?"

"Yes Mtundu," he said pointedly. "Falana certainly is something all right. Whatever it is, she sure is it." He looked to Falana, "Falana, I'd like you to meet Mtundu. He's my friend and… he's a baboon."

A little of her fierce demeanour returned. "I can see that! What are you doing with a baboon?" She shook her head and before Nengwalamwe could answer added, "No! Don't answer that. Just don't say anything."

"But Falana…"

"Don't you 'but' me cubbie, I've had it up to here with you. I'd be more than happy if I never saw you - or him - again. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, I hear you."

"Right, you'd better have. We've got a job to do, if you don't remember, and it's more than my life's worth not to get it done." She rose and stood four square. "Now get him out of here and we can get on with what we're in this forsaken hole for. The less time I have to spend with you the better." She looked up to the sky in despair, "Mother, why did it have to be me?"

Nengwalamwe gave Mtundu a look that had universal significance.

"I guess some other time eh?" He scurried off leaving Nengwalamwe to his fate in Falana's paws. Before he had gone ten strides he threw a parting comment into the by now blustering wind, "See you around Nengwe..alamwe! And you too, Falana. It was good seein' ya!"

The rest of what little remained of the day passed tensely but uneventfully. Falana saw Nengwalamwe's rock. Despite her dismissive and generally derisive comments, he could see she was more than a little taken by the great rock; she even paused at one point to push with her nose and forepaws at the rocks that covered the cave entrance.

On the way back, in the last golden rays of the setting sun, not far from where they'd run into Mtundu, Falana once more grew tense and fearful.

"Quiet Nengwe."

"What again? What for this time? And it's Nengwalamwe!"

"Hushhh! She's coming. Sit down, shut up and smile." He stood still, resolutely refusing to sit down.

"Quick! Nengwe, she's coming!" Falana sat back and dropped her head to look at the ground. Nengwalamwe stood and looked on. A wild dog walked towards them, her tail held high and her wide rounded ears, one tattered and torn, erect on her up-held head in a confident, almost arrogant posture. She slowed, passing no more than three lengths from the lions, her strong scent flowing all around. She looked to the lion; not to Falana, but to Nengwalamwe; looking him up and down silently for a moment. She flicked her tail and moved on wagging it vigorously. Nengwalamwe watched her in speechless disbelief. When she was gone, he turned to Falana as she lifted her head.

"What was that all about Falana? It was only some dirty dog."

"She's no dirty dog Nengwe, she's a dirty bitch and no mistake." Then she said flatly, "She's Elizabeth, daughter of the Queen of the Pridelands."

"Daughter of the Queen? So when did they make lionesses rule?" He stared at Falana. "Daughter of the Queen? You mean the queen is a DOG. You gotta be kidding me right?"

"Shuuussssh, she'll hear you. Keep it down!"

"Come on, I'm the lion around here." Falana looked scared. "Huh? What kinda stunt are you trying to pull anyway?"

"I don't know who's the king or queen where you come from Nengwe, but here the dogs rule and you had better not forget it. Come on, let's get out of here, the wind doesn't smell so sweet since she went past." Falana got up and walked off.

"Falana, you're serious aren't you?" he called after her. Setting off, he was by her side in couple of strides.

"Deadly serious. Believe me; those dogs can kill you with a single look if they don't like you. And I'm not at all sure Elizabeth there liked you much."

"How can they do that? Come on, they don't know how to kill a lion, not with a look surely, it simply isn't possible. Anyway, how can they rule? They don't know anything about what happens around here. Sure, they can bite but they're nothing but stupid, slobbering, mangy… dogs."

"They know Nengwalamwe, believe me. They get to know everything that we do or even think. They know who you are, that's why she looked you over. She'll know what you last ate and how many fleas are in your mane. Don't ask me how they know, but they do." She paused and looked about, fearful of unseen ears that might overhear, "We should not be talking like this. They'll find out. Now come on, we've really got to get out of here."

They left, walking together for a while before splitting up and going their separate ways as the final dying-blood red glow of the sun spilled through the grasses.