The Huntress at Sunset

17. The Lion, the Bitch and the Clawed Lobe

Crossing the stream, the pair moved onward. Around them unfamiliar animals watched and wondered from what they hoped was a safe distance. The lion and baboon saw few of them, yet they were there; in the trees, under the bushes, behind the rocks. Some barely knew that the larger of the two was a lion, the others simply marvelled at the magnificent mass of fur the shone in the sun and the muscle that rippled effortlessly beneath. The strange beast's paws seemed to hang on each step, it placed them flat and even on massive unseen pads. All knew that, like as not, equally impressive claws dwelt between the smooth fur of its toes. Strength and power flowed on its scent and scattered all in its path. In its wake shuttled another beast, one totally unlike the great beast. Grey green matted fur; no, matted hair fell from its body. Legs swung about in all directions. Beady eyes peered blankly ahead along the long ridge of its nose. It looked not a little like a larger form of many of the monkeys that lived, ate and hid in the tree canopy, yet it sat and walked on the ground. While it certainly was like the forest dwellers, there was no mistaking that this creature was no more of the forest than was the great beast. Why they were there, and where they were going, no one knew. No one that saw them realised that they were unlikely ever to see their like again.

Fear is a strange thing. For many, the fear of being afraid is as great as or greater than any fear of actual danger. To be afraid is to be seen to be weak, so Nengwalamwe's father said. Fear, though, is a warning. Fear is necessary, fear is normal. To live without fear is not to live at all. Many who experience little fear in their lives often go and seek it out, or else live perpetually in the shadow of fear of imagined danger. Most animals have no need of such artificially created fear; it is around them each and every day. It's in the crack of a twig, the swish of the grass, or the shadow from the air. The animals that looked upon the great beast and his skittish companion looked upon them fearfully, seeing danger in those deep eyes and dark lips.

"Do ya actually know where we're goin' Nengwe?"

The lion's eye flicked from side to side anxiously. "No, do you?"

Snuffling, the baboon stopped, sitting back on to his bald rump and looking around high into the canopy.

"I guess so."

The lion turned his head right back, and halted. "'I guess so'! What's that meant to mean?"

"OK, OK. Jeez Nengwe, keep your mane on. I was only asking," asking with flitting gaze and rapid breaths. "Does this place frighten a big lion like you?"

"No! No…" Nengwalamwe tensed as he turned his ears to one side at a sudden bird call. "No," he repeated through snatched breaths. "I'm not afraid. What's there to be afraid of?"

"I dunno, but this place scares the living crap outta me. Can I groom you?"

"What? This is no time to be tick picking Mtundu," the lion said without taking his eyes off the shadowy undergrowth.

"I'll let ya lick my back."

"You will…?" The lion turned his great head slowly to his companion, a hint of a smile managing to creep over his lips.

Further on the ground rose and the cliffs grew ragged. The bush browned. Steadily, the ground rose up to the plateau so that just after dawn the two walked up through scrub emerging onto a broad plain. The ground rolled away before them. In the shimmering distance, now as familiar to Nengwe as his own scent, stood the great rock. They had returned.

As the new day turned to old it grew warm and almost cloudless; a brightness heralding the end of the rains; the steamy humidity telling a different tale. The top of the rock, hazed into near unrecognisability, still lay over a day ahead. The way back now seemed clear enough yet neither could see what lay beyond the ridge ahead. As they crested it the reason became plain. The slope broke abruptly across their path; the sun casting the pair's shadows long over the light, barren sandy soil. To the left and some four or five lengths below, golden laden by the late sun, the ground was richer, moister but uneven and broken by low rock and sparse stunted trees. They would have to either head right toward the river or along the ridge which they could see raggedly curving away into unknown and further away from the great rock, or else go back the way they had come.

Nengwalamwe walked forward tentatively. He suddenly stopped and looked down. At his forepaws the ground dropped away abruptly and darkened in deep shadow. To one side below the ground was rough; scrub littering the rises. He looked to the left, and wished he hadn't. He was on the edge of a bluff some five or more lengths high stretching and curving away to the southeast. Yet more rock blocking his way. He edged back carefully, taking shallow shuffling steps: bumping into Mtundu.

"Hey! Watch where ya puttin'it!"

The lion stopped and sat down firmly. The ground seemed safe enough, or was it? Might it not crumble under them, sending them tumbling to their deaths, burying them in an instant so that no one would ever have known they were ba….

"Nengwe, are you OK? Ya kinda look unsteady there."

"Yeah. Yeah I'm… yeah, I'm good." Nengwe tried to smile. "Just don't look over the edge."

The pair looked out from the head of the bluff toward the great rock, now bathed in the intense red-gold of sunset. Nengwe noticed, picked out by the low-slanted light, a large group, almost a herd, of buffalo drifting in a wide arc toward the foot of the bluff.

"You hungry?"

"A little, why?"

"Don' those buffalo look mighty tempting?"

"Not to me Mtundu, and way out of reach. Buffalo don't take too kindly to being hunted. Even Shaha and Falana would pass them by." Mtundu sat, concentrating on Nengwe. "If they stand their ground they can easily kill you. They're strictly big pride prey." Nengwe looked back to the herd.

"Where do'ya reckon they'll be?"

"Shaha and Falana?"

"Yeah."

The lion looked up from below the bluff to the great rock in the distance.

"Way over there, by Silent Rocks probably."

"Why d'ya call them Silent Rocks?"

Nengwe shrugged. ""I don't know. It's what they call them."

"What d'ya call this place."

"Here? I dunno."

"No? I reckon this must be Saffi's Bluff."

Nengwe had heard Shaha use the name. He had nodded politely. At the time he had not realised where she meant. Though he did not know it he had once seen the bluff, an upraised fault line of sandstone, but had dismissed it as being small and uninteresting. Now, up close, it took on new meaning. He had clearly underestimated it. "Who was Saffi?"

"Saffi? I think she was one o'yours: a lioness."

For a few moments the pair sat silent.

"So, how long do you think we have?"

"For what?"

"Until the dogs get to hear about us?"

"Half a day. A day at most."

"Then they come for me. We won't even be home by then."

"For us Nengwe. They'll come looking for us. But maybes not yet."

"Eh?"

"Miss Elizabeth's got a taste for dragging things out till she's good an' ready. She ain't one to call a pawprint a paw print"

"You think?"

"Yuh. We got a little time to make some friends. You're not alone in all this Nengwe. There's many 'ad wanna see the back o'those dogs."

"I hope so. We're gonna need all the help we can get."

Nengwalamwe noticed that ahead strode a small file of the largest horned animals he had ever seen. Taller, their straight twisted horns rising yet further, and heavier, yet more elegant, smoother coated and gentler coloured than the buffalo; they wound their way easily toward the river.

Mtundusurveyed them with curiosity. "What are they?"

"I don't know." Nengwe shook his head; something new caught his eye. "What's that?"

"What?"

"That. There, look way over there… it's… no, it can't be. That's Shaha!"

"Where? Out here? No way. I cain't see nuttin'."

"It's her all right. So, where's Falana?"

Nengwe watched intently. Yes, that was Shaha surely. Her mottled coat stood out clearly in the evening light, and there, yes, there were her ear marks. She inched forward, flat to the ground. Then, almost shielded from view by the… whatever they were, was another lioness. Not Falana. Heavier set, clumsier, almost angular at the hindquarters; no, definitely not Falana. The buffalo had moved round and now stood between the bluff and the lionesses that seemed intent on the bigger antelope. "Never take your eye off a buffalo Nengwe" his mother reminded him. Shaha would know that. She'd never forget that surely? Yet there she was, letting the buffalo blindside her.

Almost silently at this distance, the scene burst into life. From the distance a slight lioness rose from light cover, then another, faster still. Dust rose from the ground as the buffalo panicked. Another couple rose in the far distance. The first pair turned as the great antelope leapt away, turning toward the buffalo. "Nengwe!" A few faint bellows and grunts floated up. The buffalo had now seen them and one turned back to face the lionesses. "Nengwe!" Everything moved at once, dust everywhere, noise and confusion. "NENGWE! This ain't good!"

"Don't interrupt! What the heck is it Mtundu?" Nengwalamwe turned his head angrily. There, some way down slope, heading along the bluff top toward them were three dogs. The lead was very dark, almost black, with lighter grey to the top of his head and ears. His, no her legs, were almost white. She stood tall and proud. To her side but some way behind walked Elizabeth, her ears round and upright. Her coat smooth, its colours bright in the evening light. To the rear another dog, rather like Eddie, trailed looking agitated, scanning left and right.

"Mtundu, what happened to that half a day?"

"I dunno. What are we going to do? Run away?"

"No chance. We could stand and take them down, there are only two and Lizzie."

"Stand and fight? D'ya reckon?"

"No, not here. We've got to take all of them. These need to tell the other's we're here."

"Tell the others? Are you nuts?"

The dogs approached steadily. They showed little sign of having even seen the lion and baboon. The lead dog called, "Here, you there! Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"Come on; let's give them something to tell the others."

"What d'ya have in mind?"

Nengwalamwe dropped his forequarters to the ground.

"Get on."

"What? You are nuts Nengwe?"

"Get on, and hold on tight."

"Whatta y'mean, 'get on'"

"Stop yabbering and climb up on my back."

Mtundu looked uncertain. He reached over and grabbed a handful of Nengwe's mane. The lion closed his eyes and hunched down as far as he could. Mtundu hesitated for a moment, and then looking at the still closing dogs swung his back leg up and over the lion's back as best he could and pulled himself on.

"Hold on real tight now."

"I am."

Nengwe rose sharply. Mtundu slipped to the right, clinging on with his arms and squeezing with his legs.

"Tighter Mutt, tighter!" Nengwe struck up with his forelegs and turned on his hind, wheeling round tightly. The baboon clung. The lion took a pace, then a half pace to change his lead and surged, gathering pace with every lengthening stride; gathering his strength.

"We gonna turn and charge these dogs?"

"No, Mtundu," Nengwe gasped, already taking in deep breaths, "We're going to the waterhole."

Mtundu just managed to croak out, "Waterhole?" as the ground rushed beneath them. He barely dared to look up; the edge of the bluff was rushing up to meet them. Then with a surge which crashed over Mtundu like lightening the lion punched up with his forelegs, moments later kicking the ground away with his hind. Mtundu hunched tight over the lion's shoulders. "Ohhh Shi…"

Few animals ever experience the adrenaline fuelled power of a male lion at close quarters. For most it's thankfully something that happens far away and to others. Many of those that do directly felt it don't live to tell the tale. Even they do not feel what it's like to be the lion. Here though was one who did. Perhaps indeed the only one who ever had and might ever do. Mtundu was one with the lion, feeling his strength and power through his hands and the thumping beat of his heart through his feet. He was enveloped in his scent, wrapped by the warmth of his blood and flesh, tousled by the rushing air. He felt the strength, beauty, grace and life force of the lion were all his to share.

If all that wasn't enough the ground was now rushing up to meet them fast. Nengwalamwe stretched out his forelegs to greet it. The unaccustomed weight was carrying him over more than he had expected: it was going to be a rough landing. His legs buckled as they hit, he was barely able to stay upright. His hindpaws crunched and slid. Somehow, by not fighting his forward motion, he managed to keep his balance. Had he fallen and rolled over, or worse had his head been taken under he would have crushed Mtundu, instead he flowed forward, breaking into a run, carrying them both in a gently curving headlong run away from the bluff.

They crashed through the buffalo that spread in panic all around them at the sight of the monkey head lion beast. One fell; others jumped and tumbled over the fallen. Then the herd all took to headlong flight. Beyond, neither saw nor heard any sign of the hunting lionesses, they had all but vanished into the dust. A little later the lion slowed to walk, breathing heavily. He stopped, hanging his head to breathe more easily. The baboon slipped off his back.

"Nengwe, if you're gonna do sometin' like that again, ask me first!"

"Why," the lion rasped, "So you… can say no?"

"No, so as I can keep my eyes open and enjoy the ride."

Mtundu was going to be able to dine out on the experience for a long, long time.

~oOOo~

"So where are they?"

"We dunno Elizabeth. We ain't seen hide or hair of 'em for days. They've just up an' gorn."

George stared at Elizabeth. He dropped his head and curled his tail down tightly. He had given up any hopes of her favours. Now he knew he was just another of the dogs. Behind him, down slope, lay a near grey bitch, her ears still up, a slight smile on her muzzle. Her tail lay easy on the sandy ground above Saffi's Bluff.

"And where the heck's Edward? Has he just gone and vanished too?"

"But Elizabeth, you know 'e can look after 'imself. He always turns up, one way or another. The river, it's that fast flowing we can't get across it. We're watching the only crossing point day and night. There's no other way they can get back. We'd have seen 'em."

The waxing moon flickered through heavy broken cloud. It shone down picking out Elizabeth's tattered ear hanging down over her face.

"Don't bring me your flamin' problems. Give me soddin' solutions!"

"Yes Miss."

"That flamin' monkey could do it, so so can you. It's only bleedin' water."

George looked incredulously at Elizabeth. "You want me to swim the river?"

"No, I want the whole bloody lot of you to. Just get on with it! What the heck are we doing way out here eh? Traipsing around all flamin' day, and for what? There's bugger all round here. Have you seen any tracks? Smelt a lion's scent? Seen any stray monkeys? No, 'cause I haven't either." She paused, and then went on slowly and deliberately, "That's because THEY AIN'T HERE! Geddit?" George nodded passively. "They're still out there over the river. Eddie too for all I soddin' know. I want them found. Now!" Elizabeth bored her eyes into George who shrank back. "Come on Jane, let's get out of 'ere: I'm getting bleedin' cold." She turned and stormed off. The light bitch got up and slipped behind her. George let them go, and then turned and walked toward the river in the most obvious, direct way he could, ignoring all cover and following the pools of moonlight.

~oOOo~

From below, Shaha watched the dogs on top of the bluff. She couldn't catch any of what they said, they seemed unusually quiet, or perhaps what little breeze there was carried their sounds away. She afforded herself a wry smile when they split up and started off back the way they had come. Once she was sure they had gone, she afforded herself a few moments to remember her grandmother who gave her life here, and gave her name to the bluffs that overlooked where she fell to save others. Shaha doubted anywhere would ever be named after her. Lifting her head and taking a deep breath to compose herself, she slipped away into the night, smiling again and broader still when, a little later she came across the unmistakable track of a heavy lion, almost certainly a male, running fast, and heading toward Pride Rock.

By dawn she had returned to Silent Rocks and wondered if she ought to take the time to visit the great rock. It was not far, but it was most of a lifetime away. She gave in to her memories and stayed at Silent Rocks until Falana roused her in the late afternoon. By then, she knew that her previous night's efforts had not been for nothing and she was able to turn her whole attention to hunting with her daughter.

~oOOo~

As dawn approached Nengwe began to feel more at ease. He and Mtundu had made good time, the great rock now loomed ahead, dark, monolithic, massive, but still home.

"Well Mtundu, here we are. Home at last. I guess you'll be wanting to get away."

"Err, not just yet Nengwe. I, err, well, ya know." Mtundu sat back and began inspecting the back of his fingers. "I can kinda stay here for a while."

"Mtundu, that's not very convenient."

"Ohh, ya wanna go see Falana?"

"Well, there is that too." Nengwe tipped his head and almost smiled. "But I was thinking more of getting something to eat."

"Yeah, fine by me."

"I can't hunt with a monkey on my back."

"No, 'course not." Mtundu leaned forward, conspiratorially close to Nengwe's ear. "What ya gonna catch?"

The lion looked left and right, then whispered, "baboon if he doesn't let me get on with it."

"Ahh, righty. I get ya. You just go ahead and do your thing. I'll just stay right here and look after myself. Yep, that's what'll do."

Nengwe softly licked the side of Mtundu's face. "What's up?"

"Yeah, well, I'm kinda alone here without you. Its lookin' mighty lonesome from where I am. Can I stay with you?"

"This is something a lion's got to do for himself. Then I can knock up the lionesses on a full stomach."

Mtundu's eyes opened wide. "Err Nengwe. I really don't think that's the sort of thing you oughta be saying around Falana." But Nengwalamwe wasn't listening. He was looking around for somewhere for Mtundu to shelter. He looked back at the baboon sitting bold as day on the ground. OK, somewhere to hide, that's what he needed. He walked around, sniffing at bushes and the ground for any scent that might signal danger for a baboon. There was plenty, even, he noted with some relief, Falana's. None was strong, all was old.

Some way ahead stood the remains of a tree, its canopy all but gone. The wood was dry and brittle but the few remaining branches were low and might well support a baboon's weight. From there Mtundu might easily watch Nengwe hunting if he so chose. Better yet, he would be able to see anything coming, and be able to call Nengwe. He called back, "Mtundu, how about up there?"

"Are you serious? Ya wan' me ta shack up in that tree while you go hunt?"

"Yes, that's about it. Well, what do you say? I'll let you groom my mane later."

Mtundu started walking toward the lion, who turned sideways on and lay down.

"How long ya gonna be?"

"As long as it takes: stalk a few, chase a few, get lucky maybe, till mid-morning or so. You'll be all right up there."

Mtundu stopped and sat down. "Like ya was all right up on the bank of the river huh?"

"What? Well…."

"Nengwe, you don't get the prey thing do ya? I go sit up there and sure, while it's dark I'm sittin' pretty. Come sun up and I'm a monkey on a stick. Ya might as well hunt me ye'self, it'll save ya time."

Nengwalamwe dropped his head, his mouth hanging open, his eyes tilted up to the baboon. "Yeah, we've got better things to do, haven't we? Let's get home."

"It ain't so far. Who knows, Falana might have caught something."

"She won't want to share it, unless its worms."

Nengwe got up, stretched, yawned with a twist of his head. Mtundu lead off warily, looking all round with sharp turns of his head.

It was well after dawn when they reached the rock. Nengwe climbed slowly, for the first time admiring the beauty of his home: the early light on the rock face, the haze of damp ground greening after the rains, the grazers floating on the horizon, the acacia trees bursting with fresh foliage. Everything fresh, everything green and gold, everything growing and alive, everything, as he stepped on to the promontory, other than that grey, barren, stinking pile of rocks.