The Huntress at Sunset

12. Gathering Clouds

Nengwalamwe was calm, walking steadily; his shoulders rising rhythmically. His job was done. What job was that? Re-uniting mother and daughter? Was that all he was here to do? Was that really all these weeks had been about? Was that why Yali had come to him again and again? What about Mtundu? What about Falana. He saw her walking in the distance, her every muscle inviting him, her every movement seducing him. Yet she walked alone, always keeping out of reach yet close enough to fill Nengwalamwe with her intoxicating smell. What about the rock? What about the cave? What about the dogs? What? Who? Why? Questions, questions; all unanswerable. His pawfall became uneasy. His felt his pads more than usual, and through them felt every ridge in the ground. The grasses felt harder and dryer. Above the scurrying clouds threw their shadow over everything. Even the rock fell under the deepening shadows' dance.

As sunset neared he wandered, nowhere felt right, nowhere seemed welcoming, nowhere, even the rock felt like home. In the lion's mind invisible barriers sprang up all around. No matter what he thought, no matter which way he turned, there was something blocking his path. He needed to move, to be free to roam. He decided to patrol, to look for signs of encroachment through his borders. He turned north, heading once again toward the distant highlands. To the lands of his first pawfall.

Everything around him sounded close but subdued. Calls passed him by; hooves rattled and rushed. Above the air filled and heaved with insects. The evening closed in.

Now the sun dipped below the horizon. The clouds changing from dank grey to golden orange, touched with whites and red. Through the hum of the insects a new sound reached him. He couldn't make it out at first from amidst the hubbub of evening. It appeared to come from over some low rises to on his offside. He decided it could be an intruder. He turned toward it, climbing the nearest rise.

At the top he paused and waited for it to come again on the heavy air. He turned his ears, scanning the distant uplands. There… there it was again. Difficult to hear: indistinct and distant. No, no, it wasn't distant, it was closer. Muffled, almost hushed. It came from a thicket just a minute or two's walk away through low scrub.

As he closed he slipped into a bouncing lope. For the moment the questions stopped nagging. The voices became clearer. Suddenly a trio of gazelle burst out of the scrub to his left and crossed his path, on seeing the lion they pronked away in panic. Something must have spooked them; it certainly could not have been Falana, nor less the still weak Shaha. Could there be another lion? On Nengwalamwe's land?

The scrub thinned, ahead stood a few spindly acacia, then, assumed Nengwalamwe, everything would clear. The scrub and the mystery, though maybe not the clouded sky still tinted with the very last light of sunset.

He slowed and stopped by one of the trees. Ahead, over a shallow re-entrant was a scene that swallowed him whole. Sheltering under the trees lining the far side were, two, no three adult elephant. They looked down into the valley to where, on the slope, stood seven or eight dogs in a loose, ragged pack. Some Nengwalamwe recognised. At the centre one stood out clearly: a bitch with rich chocolate and white ears and very light patches on her hind legs. On the far flank was something the lion found especially odd: a leopard.

Maybe it was his scent. Maybe it was something dry-cracking as he leant forwards better to catch their talk on the still air. Maybe one of the elephants saw him. It was the leopard, ah, a leopardess; her head held high, her tail slipping down behind her, holding its tip off the ground; that turned and saw him. Now he heard them clearly: a yelping as the dogs turned; a twisted growl and belly-shuddering rumbles. A great elephant twisted his head in violent agitation.

Nengwalamwe sized them up. He thought he could take three, maybe four of the dogs. After that he would be on even terms with the leopardess. He might be just be able to escape if he took them on, though they might just as easily take him down; but with the elephants backing them up he stood no chance, and if he did get away any remaining dogs would hunt him down. No matter where he ran, no matter what he did or where he hid they would get him. Maybe not this day, nor the next, but eventually, one sleepy noon day they would catch him. Nengwalamwe knew the only way out was now, and he was determined not to stay around long enough to make sure. He spun round and ran back into the scrub pursued, once again, by dogs.

~oOOo~

Moonlight bright nights betray the huntress, to the hunted. Clouded nights confuse both, by which the outcome is uncertain. So, to hunt by the stars, is to be the huntress….

"Can we get out of here?"

"Very well Falana, but I said you wanted to go along the ridge."

"No, not here Mother." The lioness stopped, waving her tail. She lifted her head and swung it round in flat arc. "Here! All this. Why don't we try south again?"

"Come on Falana, you know the drought forced all the herds here. There's nothing for us there now. There's everything we need here."

"How about over the river?"

"No, I'm too weak for that journey yet and by the time I am, the river will be swollen by the rains. We'll have to wait until the floods are over. We couldn't cross it for at least another moon, if then." She looked worriedly at her daughter who was padding incessantly from paw to paw. "Anyway, what's brought on all this itchy pad stuff all of a sudden?"

"I just want to get away from here."

"Don't you mean away from him?"

"That lion's got nothing to do with this!" She paused; breathing deeply while her anger subsided. "How'd he get here anyway? If he got in, then we can get out."

"You saw how weak he was when he got here. What chance would I have? He was a young, healthy, strong and..."

"Stupid lion. Look mother, I can't stand it here any longer; I've got to get away. Any way, it doesn't matter where."

"Come on, you know we can't leave yet. You'll just have to learn to live with Nengwalamwe."

Falana's ears dropped. "Mother, come on! Have you seen the way he looks at me? You haven't hunted with him like I have. He frightens me."

"Why? Because he can hunt almost as well as you can? Does it frighten you that a lion can do a lioness's job? There's things he can't do you know, and there are things that he can do that only a lion can."

"That frightens me. You know he's after me. Anyhow he can't hunt to save his life, which we had to do for him if you recall."

"Is that such a bad thing? If I were your age I'd be flattered by the attention of a young, bold and rather… well, I'm not your age am I?"

"It's a bad thing. I'm old enough to be his mother twice over."

"Well you're not his mother." Shaha's voice grew urgent. "You can still bear cubs Falana - I can't. When we die, the Pridelands dies with us." The clouds rolled by as the two lionesses stood silently. "You do realise that, don't you?"

"Mother, not that stuff again. I'm too old to bring up cubs; I'm too old for anything."

"And what does that make me?" Shaha looked sternly into her daughter's eyes, risking her wrath a second time. "You, Falana, are the last of the line. In you lies the future of this land. You can't leave here. Nengwalamwe's the one, the real one. You of all lionesses must see that. You and he can restore this land as my father once did, you and he may not succeed… but you have to try."

"Mother, why do you always lay this stuff on me? Why can't I just be…?"

"You have to do it for the sake of the future, and for the past." Falana stood silently as a slim glow of starlight slid over her back. "Can't you see? The herds drew us here for a reason. Nengwalamwe came here for a reason. You are that reason and you have to stay here otherwise everything that has happened, and everything that we are, will have been for nothing. Your father and my father and their father's before them will have all died for nothing and it will all be forgotten. One by one, the stars over our heads will go out until these lands are in complete darkness under the dogs. We are all that's left. We have come back, now, to do a job, and I'll not leave until it's done."

Falana thought for a moment, contemplating precisely what she'd have to do to complete this 'job'.

"I thought we came here for the herds? So, what do you want ME to DO? Throw myself at him? 'Take me! Take ME Nengwe! MY mother says she won't leave the Pridelands until you've had your evil way with me so take me NOW!'"

"If that's what it takes Falana, then that's what it takes."

"Mother, you have really lost it this time. There's no way I'm going to give myself to Nengwe just because you go on and on about my father. My father was a waste of a mane. He never did a decent thing in his whole life."

"He fathered you."

"How? You never liked him, no one did. After he killed your father I don't understand how you could have stood to crouch for him."

Shaha stood resolutely, looking back over her life; considering what it had all meant. "Life's never that simple Falana. I did what I had to do." She paused, adding, "For the good of the pride. You've only ever had one lion, and he was a fly-by-night rogue who only didn't even hang around long enough to get you in cub."

"Now, mother, he had important things to do with that other pride."

"What other pride?"

"Zimmale's. He was going to lose it to Zimmale if he hadn't gone away to protect it."

"You don't actually believe that do you? Falana, he was a rogue through and through; not an honest hair on his back. Oh, he was smooth-tongued all right. He even tried it on me once, but I told him his nose was mistaken. Nengwalamwe's no bully. He's rough around the edges, but he's not like that other one you had. Nothing like."

Falana sat back, blinking and twitching her ears sadly.

"He didn't… I couldn't…."

Shaha shouldered her gently, trying to coax her daughter into confiding in her.

"There never were going to be any cubs Mother…."

Shaha stood silently. There was no need for words. As Falana slid sorrowfully to the ground Shaha moved forward and reached down and gently licked the fur between her daughter's ears. She moved to Falana's side and lay beside her.

~oOOo~

"Are you hungry Falana?"

Falana rolled her eyes towards her mother and flicked her ears up to catch her mother's words. Then she slowly and deliberately lifted and turned her head to face her. She waited for her mother's smile to drop. It didn't, and in a few moments, Falana allowed herself to smile too.

"Now Mother that's the best thing you've said today. What's the special tonight?"

"Whatever you fancy, anything at all. I'm so hungry I could eat a whole zebra."

"Aaahh - we're fresh out of zebra."

"Any antelope?"

"Nope."

"Oh no, please don't say we got to go down the river for a hippo."

"No..." Falana laughed lightly and turned away. The clouds had thinned a little, and now the moonlight shone down intermittently. "Tonight Falana, its buffalo."

"Aaaah…"

Shaha followed her daughter through the shifting, shimmering silver heads of the grasses out on to the open plain below the ridge. High above them the moon slid out from behind the thickest clouds to bathe the lionesses in silver light brighter than the final afterglow of day.

The two lionesses covered the quarter of a mile to the fringes of the herd of buffalo in silence. The high hisses and rustles of the tall, dry grasses covering all sounds of their pawfall. The wind cut across their path, carrying their scent far from the herd.

They slipped to within a hundred lengths; stopped and sat back, looking out ahead over the dappled rippling sea of grass. The shadows dropped by the clouds slid over them from the herd. The peaceful grunts of the buffalo and lazy swishes of their tails showed that they had not yet noticed Shaha and Falana. The lionesses dropped down below the grass tops and waited quietly, speaking in gentle, hushed tones.

"Well, there they are. What do you think Mother? Shall we move closer now? They seem less bunched over there to the right."

"Does it matter what I say any more Falana? You always do what you want anyway. I'm not up to being choosy yet, though it does look more promising over there."

Falana turned and crept away. Shaha followed a few seconds later along the corridor of grass cleared by her daughter. They both knew it was the movement of the grass that was most likely to give them away. They both knew Shaha couldn't run far, if at all. She wanted to keep the movement to a minimum even if they were well out of sight, sound and smell of the buffalo.

The unchanged snorts and grunts from the buffalo reassured the lionesses. They slipped nearer without risking a second look over the grass tops. They crept closer, slowing; moving paw-by-paw, ears twitching and turning to catch the faintest sounds. At length Falana stopped, moving no further forwards. The grass was thinning; the soil beneath had grown drier. They were a little more than thirty lengths from a small group of five or six buffalo. It had taken them more than twenty minutes to cover the distance from where they had last caught sight of their potential prey.

Falana stood perfectly still, her eyes fixed on the flank of the nearest buffalo that just showed through the waving stalks of the grass. Shaha edged alongside her.

"Ok Falana. Which one do you reckon?"

"I can only see one, and not too much of that either."

"Well, take a proper look. Go on!"

"OK, OK, I'm on it, don't get your whiskers in a twist Mother." Falana turned her ears forwards and slowly, and without even the slightest shake, lifted her head, keeping her eyes fixed on the buffalo. As she breached the grass line, she saw that the herd had moved while they had been getting into position. The small group, still split off from the main herd, was now some ten or more lengths to their right. Falana paused and looked about, scanning her eyes from her unmoving head over the sea of grass.

"Well?"

Falana dropped back down like a crocodile slipping below the water.

"There's too many here, we'd not stand a chance. Come on; let's move a little further on."

"You forgot they move, didn't you? I keep on telling you about that but do you listen? No, you can't even trust your own mother, can you?"

This time it was Shaha that moved away, just as silently as her daughter, if a little slower. She kept her head higher, stealing glimpses of the buffalo over the shifting sands of grass. The danger was the buffalo might see the dark tips to her ears floating above the waves. In the clouded starlight it was a chance she thought worth taking. The wind blew across so they could not hear the sounds of the buffalo's hooves on the earth. The herd shifted forwards every quarter of a minute or so in search of the best of the remaining grazing. By sound alone the lionesses could not maintain an adequate map of the herd as it shuffled across the savannah. They needed to see their prey to be sure of tracking it. Within ten minutes Shaha had brought them both back to within twenty lengths of the group, now shrunk to four, which they had seen earlier. She paused and sniffed the wind then dropped down out of sight.

"Here Falana, you have a look and decide which one is the easiest."

Falana looked at her mother through half closed eyes.

"Well, thank you mother."

She turned her head back towards the group; lifting it to look clear over the cover. She dropped down again suddenly as she caught sight of the closest buffalo staring hard in their direction.

"What's the matter Falana?"

"It's looking at me. I'm sure it saw me, I'm sure it did! Come on, let's get out of here and try somewhere else."

Falana tried to turn and leave the way they had come, but Shaha raised a forepaw and patted her daughter's hindquarters.

"Quiet Falana, I can't hear anything."

"What? What do you expect to hear?"

"Alarm snorts, hooves thumped on the ground, anything… but there's nothing. Come back here, they've not seen us, they'd not see that rock of Nengwalamwe's in this light."

Falana stared back at her mother. Her hunger bit deep, she knew her mother was probably right; and in her state, they'd only get the one chance. It would take the rest of the night to set up another strike as good as this.

Falana's impatience was just another of her failings. There was more to it than that, however. She would much rather spend hours setting up new strike of her own than spend ten minutes completing the one she and her mother had already started. While her pride had held her from answering Nengwalamwe's pleading, she knew there was little to be gained by letting her feelings spoil a perfectly good hunt just because her mother had stuck her nose in. Falana knew her mother knew her many moods too well. The time when she could hide them from her had long since passed. Hiding her feelings from Nengwalamwe was much more enjoyable. She wondered if perhaps he really did feel things for her - just perhaps. At least she now knew where to find him.

"Falana? Is something wrong? Come on, we've got work to do, I can't stay on my paws all night."

Falana blinked and shook her head gently so as not to disturb the long grass.

"I'm fine mother. I'll lead."

Shaha watched her daughter intently as she brushed past and headed off parallel to the buffalo. Before Shaha could move off Falana stopped dead. After a few seconds, she pulled herself forwards, turning effortlessly to face the prey. Her body curved round as she turned, sliding elegantly as if round some imagined obstacle that she dare not touch. Her tail swished in front of Shaha's nose. Shaha didn't pull back; she let the tip brush over her muzzle. Falana pulled it away as she moved forwards another length, swishing it back.

Ahead the grass thinned still more and the shorter, thicker grasses favoured by the grazers took over to cover the ground barely hoof high. The buffalo moved on slowly some ten lengths from the long cover, just within strike distance for lion. Yet, was it close enough for a elder lioness still not fully recovered from injury? Their best chance lay with getting as close as possible before the buffalo could raise the alarm. Then they could summon up a modest burst of acceleration, and, before reaching any real speed, catch and take down the closest buffalo as it tried to lumber away. Waiting for the buffalo to make the first move would avoid having to face their horns as they would be running away. A pre-emptive strike from cover ran the risk of the prey making a stand. If that happened the attack would have to be frontal or worse still, broken off before it had even begun. This then was a time for patience and stealth, for manoeuvring to best advantage, for not making any sound, nor creating any sight that would betray them. Time to be the huntress.

As Falana moved forwards again, she grew aware of a something new. They had been moving steadily with the herd for some time; they were now running out of cover. The patch of long grass, at one time seemingly endless, was indeed now ending, and there was not much cover left. They were deliberately moving to its long edge. Just thirty lengths to their left lay the short edge, beyond that the short grass curved round. The lionesses were running out of space to work. Time was not much of a concern; it was the confinement that really worried Falana. They would soon have to break cover or break off the attack. They were almost close enough for an effective strike, but were they close enough for a safe strike?

"Falana, what's that? There, look!"

"What?" Falana's concentration broke. "Mother, shut up will you. We'll be out of this one way or another soon, 'till then can you just keep it down - please."

Falana drew forwards again, assessing the distance carefully. She stood up higher, half expecting to be seen. She was right. The lionesses heard the distinctive alarm grunt of a buffalo, the rest of the group lifted and turned their heads from grazing as one: away from Falana. The buffalo's bellows grew louder and more urgent. The nearest buffalo reared up and swung round. As its fore hooves landed and shook the ground. It then powered forward, heading parallel to the line of the grass edge.

"Come on Mother, we're on!" Falana shot forwards from the cover of the long grass, her eyes fixed on the accelerating buffalo running to her left. She curved, putting much of her weight and power into turning to keep the buffalo in her eye-line. Shaha waited just a moment to see what Falana was on. She saw her daughter turn and surged away after her, ignoring her aching shoulder. She took a straighter, more direct line that was more efficient though less dramatic than that of her supple daughter. She soon drew close to Falana's side and slid past her onto her prey side.

"N- Not seen us yet," Shaha gasped as the buffalo sliced across them, heading round the curve of the short grass. The group of buffalo closed up as they ran, whatever had alarmed them it certainly wasn't Falana. Now a pair of eyes brightened in panic as they caught the pair of lioness running parallel a few sort lengths away. It bellowed to warn its companions who tried to turn away in confusion. The group split once more as fear grew into blind panic.

Falana turned her head to her side as she ran, tilting her shoulders away to balance and her tail forcing Shaha to surge forward a little to her daughter's side. The dust of the plain rose up from their paws and instantly flew away into the long grass, caught by the gusting wind. Despite not looking ahead Falana ran on with supple grace and pad-perfect precision.

"What's HE doing here?"

"Who?" shouted Shaha, not daring to take her eyes off the racing buffalo.

"Nengwa-soddin-lamwe!" Falana roared, "Get out of it! This is my hunt!"

As one of the buffalo shed from the group, Shaha surged away from Falana who had slowed, staring at the lion on the other side of her prey. It must have been Nengwalamwe who had spooked the group, he had ruined hours of hard work. Falana hardly noticed her mother's bulk cross her vision as she watched the lowest part of his bouncing mane between the buffalo's hooves. Nengwalamwe so filled her mind that Falana forgot all about the strike and slowed almost to a walk. "Come on mother, let's get out of here. That lion's ruined everything…. Mother?"

Falana looked to the buffalo. Shaha was closing rapidly on one of the group. It was not well separated from the herd. Three or four lengths behind, closing rapidly, ran a large male. Already it was lowering its head to bring its horns to bear on the already injured Shaha.

"Mother! What do you think you're doing?"

Shaha ran on, curving into the prey with powerful leaping strides. "No mother! Don't throw your life away like this!" Falana roared in panic as she threw back the ground beneath her and raggedly broke into a full run once more. 'Come on, you can't be serious. Please Mother, stop now. Please Mother - pull up!' Her thoughts flowed into her throat, "You got to pull up!"

Shaha remarkably surged again, her age and wounds falling from her much as her coat did. She managed to get a forepaw on to the side of the buffalo's rump, digging in with her claws. Behind, the chasing male closed hard. Falana saw Shaha try to pull the buffalo back down by dragging her free legs. The buffalo was not going to give up without a struggle and ran on strongly; for too strongly for Shaha. It dragged her on over the grass; she couldn't hold on, the effort was pulling her claws loose from the hide. She retracted her claws; her blood soaked paw slipping back down to the ground.

Yet, still Shaha did not give up. Falana watched, powerless to help, as she raced forward. Shaha took a couple of strides to regain her balance. She accelerated to jump forwards and strike again at the buffalo's back, this time with both forepaws, once more trying to pull it over. She was no more successful. The buffalo behind was now no more two lengths from her flailing tail. The pain in her foreleg came again. She had to drop back, dragging her claws deep through the hide of the buffalo's rump. She slowed slightly, as if intending to pull away or stop. She had not seen the buffalo moving in to take her.

She had inflicted considerable injuries on the beast's hindquarters. It stumbled, lurching forward, suddenly released of the lioness' weight. Then it lost its footing, its forelegs folding at the knuckles. It lurched over onto its right side, its head rolling under in terror stricken panic. Shaha, despite having falling back to the ground painfully, leapt forwards onto the fallen buffalo's back to sink her claws deep into its spine. Before she could bring her teeth to bear on the stricken beast's lower neck the two were thrown round violently.

When the beast finally stopped, she was thrown clear, landing on her injured side, rolling over blindly. The wind whipped up the choking dust into a stinging, throat-rasping cloud. The ground shook as the male buffalo behind rumbled past within a tail's width. Shaha felt a blast of burning air push at her fur as the beast beneath her groaned for the last time.

For a moment, Shaha saw nothing but the dust. It cleared, revealing Nengwalamwe's muzzle clamped around the buffalo's upper neck. The slightest of moon, which had been at her back now shone down through the gaps in the clouds onto her left side. Nengwalamwe's strike had been so powerful as to turn them all, buffalo and lion, through nearly a full half-circle. It had thrown Shaha clear out of the path of the chasing buffalo.

The last of the herd turned and stopped to look back on her fallen companion. She did not stand and look for long. Falana ran in roaring loudly, putting the straggler to lumbering flight.

"Falana, where did you get to?" asked Shaha, not trying to get up.

Falana stopped roaring and looked incredulously at her mother and Nengwalamwe. The kill lay still, deathly still. Nengwalamwe released his grip slowly and looked to Shaha, his sides heaving.

"Nengwe, thank you. I guess I'm not up to taking down buffalo these nights, not like I used."

"Mother? By the stars, what did you think you were doing? That male buffalo was going to gore you for sure."

Shaha laughed gently as she rolled back on to her paws. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before shaking the dust from her fur. "What male?"

Falana dropped her head, high from roaring, and turned back to her mother. As she drew close, she sniffed at her and brushed her head against her neck.

"The buffalo that was going to kill you."

"I didn't see any other buffalo." Shaha lifted her head to look at Falana and then turned to Nengwalamwe. "Did you Nengwe?"

The lion seemed a little embarrassed and tried to look away.

"Well, I… it was very confusing… the dust… the chase… I'm really not sure." He rolled his eyes and tried to smile exaggeratedly.

"Mother, you shouldn't have rushed in like that, it was a stupid thing to do."

"Now see here Falana. I didn't 'rush in'. I saw an opportunity too good to go to waste. And where were you? One moment you and I were stride for stride, next thing I know, I'm all alone?"

Falana looked crossly at Nengwalamwe, almost growling.

Shaha let out a loud warning that filled her daughter's ears. "No, no! You're not getting away with that! You keep your mind on the hunt, you understand?"

Falana let her expression soften a little and Shaha drew back.

"Nengwalamwe got me out of the mess you got me into. You must support others when you're hunting. How many times have I told you? Nothing else matters once the strike is on - nothing. Is that clear?" Shaha pulled her head back from over her daughter's neck, moving moved close to Falana's cheek, out of Nengwalamwe's sight. Falana breathed heavily, half expecting some pointed remark or even a bite. Instead she felt her mother's tongue rasp upward over her fur, ending at her right ear. "You see. He's got some good points after all."

Falana pulled her head up suddenly and looked, blinking, over to the waiting lion. He had not yet started on the kill. She stared at him for a moment before turning back to her mother.

"Come on Falana, I believe he thinks it's my kill. Who am I to disagree with a lion?" Shaha walked forwards. She turned around the beast's turned-back hind legs and joined Nengwalamwe, dropping down by his side, pressing her ribs close to his. She spoke to him quietly. "Thank you - I was down for sure. Once more I owe you my life, how can I ever repay you?"

He returned her words in similar intimate tones. Falana strained to hear but couldn't quite make them out over the wind.

"It doesn't matter. I was trying to do something; just one thing right… Just one little thing."