The Huntress at Sunset

22. High Moon

Shaha lay dozing quietly on the ridge above Silent Rocks in the humid heat of the midmorning. She had had a busy few days with Mtundu. Now at last alone, she was trying to sleep. She couldn't settle: rolling over and back repeatedly. She tried every position of her legs and paws but none helped to ease her discomfort in the searing shade of the breezeless morning.

She looked up. She noticed Falana moving amid the shadows of a clump of trees. She was heading for the river. Some way behind her, the grass moved again. She was being followed. Shaha felt warm at the thought that it was most likely Nengwalamwe. She savoured this time, borrowed as it was, for now Falana would surely spend more and more time with him.

At length Shaha found a passably comfortable position for her forelegs. She closed her eyes to sleep, ignoring the flies that swirled around her head.

"Shaha?"

She woke instantly and looked up.

"What do you want Mtundu? I've been trying to sleep for hours." She struggled to focus beyond the baboon.

"It's late Shaha. You have been asleep for hours. No tryin' about it."

She passed a forepaw over her forehead.

"I must be getting old. A baboon wakes me and I don't even want to kill him."

"Yeah? An' now I know where Falana gets her grump."

Shaha forced open her eyelids, blinked and raised her head from her foreleg. "You know…"

"Yeah, if baboons tasted better and you were ten years younger you might do sumtin' about me."

"…Something like that, yes. While you've been gone sorting your family, I've found something for you, and by the way how is your father?"

"For me? You got sumtin' for me?"

Shaha turned her head slowly. Mtundu followed her gaze. A first he had no idea what it was he was supposed to be looking at.

"What?"

"That."

"Eh? Cummon Shaha, stop funnin' me."

"There at the foot of that rock."

Mtundu scurried over. He looked about and then turned back to Shaha, shrugging; raising both his hands above his shoulders.

"Beside you."

He began to raise his upper lip, but before he had exposed anymore than the tips of his teeth he saw a gnarled branch, bark-stripped and smoothed with age lying on the ground.

"What? That old branch?"

"Yes Mtundu. That "old branch". Pick it up."

"How? More like, why?"

"You'll see."

"OK, OK, seein' it's you." He looked at it. It was half as long again as he was tall. Far from straight, it kinked near its thicker end. Mtundu sat over it and put his open hand over it where it bowed away from the ground. He felt something flow through him, a rushing force. He jumped back, pulling his hand away, startled. He looked to Shaha as he composed himself.

"What the heck was that?"

"It won't bite, but I might if you don't try again."

He breathed quickly.

"What is it?"

"It's just a stick Mtundu. That's all. All you felt were memories."

"Yeah, memories they might have been, but they sure as heck weren't mine."

"No, that they were not Mtundu. It's yet to see yours."

"Are any yours?"

"Oh yes, it knows all my secrets. Go on now, pick it up again. This time remember it's yours, so hold it as if you mean it. You control it, it's yours to use as you need."

Mtundu side-shuffled to the stick: it still lay as before. He looked at Shaha, raising his eyebrows. She nodded, tipping her nose toward him, urging him forward.

"'As I need,' what's that supposed to mean?"

Shaha flicked her off forepaw at him… twice.

Mtundu thought. His hand hovered over the bow of the stick. Birds flew up from a tree in the distance, his mind flashed to the dogs. Where were they? What were they doing? He leant away from the sound. His hand touched the smooth wood.

"George, we gotta learn this 'ere lion a lesson 'e won't never forget. I reckon it's time we went huntin'."

"Wot, just us? I ain't that hungry."

"No, the whole bleedin' lot of us. Get 'em up." Elizabeth walked off back toward the burrows, tossing, "We're away as soon as we're all at the twin tree," over her shoulder.

George stayed low to the ground until Elizabeth was well ahead, then he got up, and lifting his head high, set off. He knew well enough what Elizabeth had meant by all of them and would have little enough trouble finding a hunting party. All though heeded him and only one, the lightly built dull-grey bitch Jane, asked him what was going on.

"We're 'untin', what's it look like?"

"What's our prey?"

"Lion for all I know. 'Eck, I dunno. Go ask Miss Elizabeth."

The pack that assembled that afternoon under the split-trunked acacia was not that which Elizabeth would have chosen. She would lead, as always, with Jane as second hunt. Behind them as the dogs set off was George, possibly the most experienced and steady of the pack. He led the five main working dogs; they worked as two pairs and a roving lone third. At the rear came 'Arry, the last of the eight but as important as any: his job was as cover. The dogs had used this method of hunting since way before Elizabeth's grand sire's time. It was well practised and required few calls to make it work. At its simplest, the method would bring down most prey within a few minutes, but they had the stamina to keep it up for an hour before they closed in. There was no need for stealth, indeed the technique relied on the dogs being seen.

They moved off to the north, along the riverside. Cresting a rise, Elizabeth called them to a halt. Ahead a herd of some nine or ten elephant; females and calves; headed in leisurely single file toward the river ford. One of the calves ran off, turning back toward the lion's rock. His mother stomped out after him, soon catching the youngster. She made him grasp her tail with his trunk and led him back to their place in the file. The other females gathered round, some looking out in concerned vigilance.

The dogs waited. The elephants looked to be moving on. Then they stopped and turned back. George crept up to Elizabeth and twittered into her ear, "I don't fancy messin' with them trunk swingers again. Are you sure this is such a good idea?"

Elizabeth made no reply. Her jaw hung open, she panted lightly, staring at the herd slowly assembling back into file. She pulled her tongue in noisily, shook her head and turned, walking silently back through the hunting party.

She led them southeast, away from the river; past Saffi's Bluffs; where they waited while a long trail of zebra crossed ahead of them; and on to the low hills beyond. There the soil deepened and supported thicker clumps of trees and denser scrub. Here they regrouped, looking to the grasslands beyond. George slipped up to Elizabeth, twittering hopefully in greeting. She ignored him at first, looking intently out from the rise.

"Impala. We'll take a female. That one'll do: there."

"Yeah, Elizabeth, no trubs. I can taste it already."

"Forget it. You ain't eating it."

"What? You pullin' my leg?"

"No." She raised her voice so that all could hear. "No, it ain't nosh. We're goin' to give it to that…" She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. "…that bloody lion."

The huddled, crowded dogs muttered. 'Arry spoke up. "Give it to the 'effing cat?"

"Yeah. You got a problem with that? Get going: wide to the right."

'Arry set off, keeping to cover wherever he could. It would take a little time for him to get in position behind the mark.

"George and Jane'll take it to 'is rock. We'll all mark it first."

"Mark it? Wha'd'you mean 'mark it' Elizabeth?"

"Mark it. Piss on it George. You're first." She looked sternly at the others each in turn. "We want 'im to know exactly who put it there. Is that clear?"

George held his ears back, screeched up his eyes, and spoke for the rest: "Crystal Elizabeth."

"Now then look to. Lead's goin'" She rose to fours and leant forward, "Lead's gone." Jane got up and walked after her, then the remaining five. They walked steadily down slope, rounding the taller scrub, winding through the trees and out in to the open. Any prey seeing the column knew what they were doing. They knew they were safe as long as the file remained; it was when they split that the danger grew.

The impala grew wary, feeding a little more quickly out of the way, sheepherding their young ahead of them. They could not tell on who the dogs would fall, it may not even have been for them. Still they looked on the dogs, approaching steadily, quietly, deliberately. A small group ran, leaping in a confused mass. The dogs ignored them and walked on in plain sight.

With a few simple monotone calls the pack suddenly split. The lead pair carried on while behind them first a male, then two more turned away to one side. Within a few strides two more peeled off to the other side. A group of gemsbok ran up from dense scrub to the east; the dogs lost some of their customary cohesion. The hooing calls came more quickly. The pack worked quickly to get back into formation.

Three impala, all young females, red-backed and un-horned, saw the lead dogs striding toward them, closing steadily. Closing too slowly they thought. Any impala could outrun a dog, they all knew that. They turned and ran nonchalantly, leaping occasionally more for the fun of it than to throw the dogs off. Yet still the dogs came, faster now, calling all the time.

One of the impala females turned away to the side. She reared up as she saw George and two others. She collected herself and then leapt over them, they didn't follow. Instead they closed in on her companions, tightening the noose.

A mid-afternoon's bit of fun at the dogs' expense turned to raw fear. The impala ran for their lives, turning to each side to escape, only to run into more dogs, and still the plain hunters kept on coming, steadily kept on running them down. Within minutes the impala were totally separated from the herd. They were on their own and the dogs were closing. Coming together, squeezing the prey, driving them away from any hope.

The impala began to tire. They were now running for their lives, and they had long since run out of places to run to. Yet still the dogs came, pressing on, hemming in, running down.

The end came simply enough. The five closed the noose, two from one side, and three from the other. One appeared out of the grass right under the impala, one of whom leapt over him to safety. The other died there in the heat of the afternoon. Her calls for help ignored; her end unseen. Her fate had been decided long before and far away in deep cover. Yet the dogs didn't eat her. One by one, females and males starting with George marked her deep red back, light counter-shaded belly and slight, long-nosed head. Just as Elizabeth had said.

~oOOo~

Mtundu sat stunned. The stick still lay to his side.

"Mtundu, what was that?"

He looked at Shaha blankly, "What was what?"

"That - there, on the kopje across the valley."

Mtundu looked round. The rocks were bare. A shimmering haze rose from them, nothing more.

"There's nuttin' there Shaha. It's just the heat."

She wasn't listening, she was staring. "I'm sure there was something."

"Ya know this 'presentation' thing: where you presented?"

"Me?" Shaha's weary eyes brightened. "No Mtundu, I wasn't. My brother was, as a cub, my father too of course."

"Not you? Why?"

"I wasn't going to be king was I? I'm a female, they don't present lionesses."

"Maybe they should…. So ya had a brother? What happened? Was he king?"

"He grew up. He left; he wanted to find his own pride."

She looked north, to the distant mountains. "Out there. He never saw what happened here." They looked together.

"Nengwe came from there. Do ya think..?"

"Who knows Mtundu? Not I. There's not much of him in Nengwalamwe that much I do know. Look, I'm tired. I think Falana might want to go hunting later. I need to get some sleep. How about you get off to see how Nengwalamwe's doing?" She laid her head on her forepaws. Mtundu nodded. She smiled back, "Best leave the stick; it'll be here when you need it."

"What, this old stick?" He grasped it, and lifted it awkwardly. It felt light; the wood dry and age-smoothed. He dropped it, and tried again, this time catching hold near one end. Its weight twisted his wrist painfully. He let go. He finally grabbed with both hands, lifting it above his head.

"Yes that 'old stick'. It's yours now."

"Yeah sure it's mine, but I dunno wh'use it'll be."

"You'll think of something. Look I need to talk to Nengwalamwe, but not now. Tomorrow mid-morning will do, until then I'd better look after it for you."

"Yeah, OK. Mid-morning, sure." He put it down carefully beside the rock, where it had lain earlier.

Shaha watched Mtundu as he scampered off. The afternoon sun caught him casting a long shadow reminiscent to Shaha of days long ago, days when she still used to laugh.

She settled down to sleep again. Before she fell under she saw the summit of the distant rock move again. This time she saw that it had a delicately spotted coat. "Ah Fentayli," Shaha said recognising the leopardess. "What are you up to?" She watched as the leopardess slipped down off the rocks and into the grasses after Mtundu. "Fentayli, I hope for their sakes that your cubs are old enough to fend for themselves… not that Falana's were; and young enough not to know who you really are."

~oOOo~

When Shaha had passed, Fentayli leapt nimbly from the low bough of a baobab, landed among a tussock of grass and sniffed. The night was still, with only zephyrs of wind stirring the grass before her. Sniffing again, she stepped forward cautiously, eyes searching, and then pushed her way among the grasses, padding a few yards and then pausing to sniff and listen once more. Now and again the wind sighed among the grasses, the stalks waving and rippling in patches. Each time she paused, fearful, until it died down. She cast aside her fear and got to work.

She kept to cover, but was careful to never let the lioness get very far ahead. She was alone, she often stopped to rest, her gait was uneven, almost a limp, probably a result of the injuries to her near shoulder. Fentayli noted with ironic pleasure that they most likely were given to her by her own daughter, who as she was told, and she shuddered at the thought, was mating with that damned lion.

It was close enough to when Elizabeth had said it should be done. The moon has full, which favoured daytime hunting leopards. This was the time, but it wasn't the place. She needed more cover, somewhere where the lioness would be disadvantaged, somewhere she would have surprise. She needed trees.

There was no way she was going to be able to lead the lioness. Indeed she had to stay hidden. All she could do was to follow and take whatever opportunity presented.

It was several hours later when, tired and about to give up, Fentayli saw Shaha entering a loose grove of acacias. By day it would appear mainly open, but at night, it was cover enough, and familiar cover at that. She trotted on, entering the grove from the side. She was pleasantly surprised to see the lioness resting in the pools of moonlight at the centre of the grove. Fentayli sat for a moment and listened. Through the night's cocktail of insects, calls and cries she could not hear any pad fall. The lioness licked distractedly at her wounds for a while before getting up and walking off slowly.

The leopardess walked confidently out into the open. Stopped and turned to the receding lioness. The lioness froze mid-pace then turned. She carried fairly fresh and evidently painful wounds to her shoulder and flank. She twitched as she put her weight on her off forepaw, rolling to her nearside. The leopardess drew down her eyelids and stared hard at the lioness. She was old, injured and alone. A glimmer of a smile crept over the leopardess' face.

Shaha heard pawfall behind her. She halted mid-step, holding her hind paw in the air before rolling it gently down to the ground. She turned carefully to her offside, drawing herself square to the leopardess, no more than five lengths away. Shaha didn't wonder what the leopardess wanted. She already knew, and was expecting the encounter. Indeed she had planned for it to happen.

She had scented Fentayli soon after setting out at sunset. She took a leisurely wandering route around the southern lands, pausing more often than was necessary to check for scent marks she knew were not there. Keeping in the open, she moved off when sure she was still being followed.

Always unhurried, always with a little more unevenness in her stride than normal; she had drawn Fentayli along after picking her up below her baobab lay-up. Shaha had even thrown in a few clearly audible mumbles about not being able to find Falana now that she was with Nengwalamwe. There was nothing that called more to Fentayli than what she considered to be weakness. For Shaha it had been a surprisingly enjoyable few hours. Now, though, the night got serious.

"And where do you think you're going?"

The leopardess stepped back, fear rippling her shoulders and raising her whiskers in a snarl. "I'm heading home, if you don't mind."

"Oh, but what if I do mind?" Shaha pulled herself up to stand square and sound. "You're way out of your territory... and a bit far to be hunting, and at this time of night. Don't even try explaining."

A shiver of fear shook through the leopardess as she realised she might have underestimated Shaha. "I'm only doing my duty. The Queen has a right to know what is going on in her lands."

"You're right, but the Queen is not that mangy flea-ridden cur you're reporting to." Shaha advanced slowly, her eyes fired. "And you enjoy it."

The leopardess backed a pace and then stood her ground. "I do what I have to," she said with a certain dignity.

Shaha did not deign to reply, merely moving forward slowly, tail flick-flicking. "You're alone, as always." She crouched down, unmoving. "You don't do friendship do you Fentayli?"

"What?"

"You know: teamwork, cooperation, working together, family. You don't get it do you?"

"What's there to get? I am stronger than you. I win."

"And Elizabeth? Is she stronger than you?"

Shaha edged forward, sliding her belly over the ground. Even the leopardess knew she was stalking. She also saw the lioness was snatching looks to each side, probably in some vain hope that someone would rescue her. There was no chance, there was no one else. She was alone, and her failure to maintain eye contact was weakness. Weakness that Fentayli knew she could exploit. She stared hard. Her fear subsided. She had the lioness now, she was hers at last. Ever since the lioness had injured one of her cubs she had waited for this moment: this one shining moment in the moonlight.

Shaha inched forward along the ground. She actually seemed to foolishly believe she was in cover and that she could hide under it! Fentayli stood tall, looking down in all ways at the pathetic lioness.

The moon shone down on them in piercing shafts from the canopy. Fentayli was waiting for the lioness' head to move in to one, a couple of lengths ahead. She gathered herself for the spring: a jumping pounce to land hard on the lioness' back, claws out and digging in deep. If she was lucky she would break her in one, her belly was hard to the ground, her legs under her. The lioness, the crazed fool, wouldn't have time to pull her legs out. Fentayli stared, and smiled.

Shaha's yellow eyes caught the light, casting it to Fentayli. The lioness looked aside as she entered the pool of moonlight. With sudden explosive fury, the leopardess sprang forward; closing her jaws upon Shaha's near shoulder then ripping back violently, re-opening recently healed wounds. The lioness cried out and snapped out, but the leopardess, lighter and lithe, had already darted away. Her jaws glistened with dark blood in the moonlight. "Not so smug now are we? Careful or you'll lose more than just fur."

Shaha's eyes widened in fury, and she darted forward with frightening speed, a paw whipping out to smash the leopardess' cheek, sending her reeling.

"What was that for? Falana's cubs?"

"No, Mtundu's brother." Gasping, the lioness moved in again. The leopardess flicked over onto her back, paws flailing wildly. She rent the flesh on Shaha's chest, tattering the fur and tearing an agonised growl from the lioness. Twisting lithely up, using her smaller frame to advantage, Fentayli attempted to seize Shaha's throat, teeth closing barely fur length from her neck. The lioness staggered back desperately, blood running freely from her wounds.

"Who's in trouble now, hmm? I've not quite figured out yet why those other two keep you around, you old flea-bag." The leopardess stood up, eyes glinting as Shaha stumbled backwards, fighting her wounded shoulder. "You're too slow, too stiff, too weak and too old. You should have stuck to lying in the sun and let others do the fighting."

The muscles in the leopardess' hindquarters tensed as she prepared to spring. Fentayli was so totally focussed on Shaha, so locked eye upon eye, so engrossed in her own success, that she had failed to notice Falana who had stalked to a few short lengths of her near hindquarter.

The leopardess leant forward to pounce but instantly felt herself falling backwards. Little pain, just numbness. When she tried to hold herself up she just kept on falling, twisting, collapsing on to the ground.

As she stared up in confusion and disbelief, Shaha fell on the nape of her neck and bit, spine crushingly hard. "Please! I-I-I was just doing what I was told! I have cubs to feed," the leopardess gurgled, scrabbling at the ground with her forepaws, eyes dulling as they stared up at the uncaring moon.

Shaha hung on until the leopardess' body slumped down. Falana, breathing hard, withdrew her foreclaws from deep in the ridge of the leopardess' spotted back and slipped to the ground. Fentayli's end was swift: a mercy she had afforded few of her victims.

"That's the end of it then."

Shaha drew back, holding her near forepaw off the ground awkwardly. "No Falana, it's just the beginning. I said I'd meet Nengwalamwe at Silent Rocks mid-morning."

"So?"

"So something's going on I know it." Shaha's shoulder bled freely.

"Yes, Elizabeth doesn't even pee without a plan. Mother - are you hurt badly?"

Shaha tried to put some weight on her forepaw. Pain surged through her shoulder. She lifted her paw. "I need to rest. Not here, she's still looking at me."

The dead leopardess looked almost as though she would wake, get up, stretch and walk off in search of a kill, but this time she was the kill. With Falana's help Shaha limped away to the edge of the trees. Falana returned with a tuft of fur from a lion's mane. She dropped it alongside the sleek, delicately smooth-haired leopardess' twisted neck. "Goodbye Fentayli, may the stars shine on all your hunts."

A new sound cut through the din of the night - a hyena's cackle. "Yeah, so the old dear's got what's comin' to her. 'Bout time too."

Falana rounded on the hyena snarling, "Give me one reason not to kill you: just one."

"Save it missy. I ain't here to kill you, or your mother. Hi there Shaha!"

Shaha growled from the trees. "Yeah, I love you too!" The hyena strode up to Falana boldly, circling her and the kill. "Me, I'm just the messenger. Lizzie thinks we're all in this together, us being canids and all. Trouble is, we ain't, but you know how it is: who's gonna' tell her?"

"Going to tell her what?"

"Why, what happened here of course. I gotta tell her something."

"Tell her her assassin is dead."

"No, no, no. You don't get it do you? I gotta tell her what she wants to hear an' that's exactly what I think I'm gonna do. After that I'm getting way outa here. I ain't hanging around. I've had enough of this business. The pay's lousy an' the boss stinks."

The hyena turned away without another word and stepped off into the night. Falana, her eyes burning, stood silently over the body.

"Let her go," said Shaha limping out from the trees. "It'll be all right."

"How can you know?"

"That's the first time a hyena's ever called me Shaha."

~oOOo~

The great rock sat silently adrift amidst a blossoming sea. The rains heralded new growth and new life but the rock just was. It always had been. It had seen so much come and go, so many rains, and many that did not come, desiccating the ridges and plains around close to desert. The colours around were rich, vibrant and full of life. Against them, the grey of the rock was more forbidding than ever. Mtundu shivered as he climbed the path to its still heart.

"Mtundu, Mtundu! You're back! Wow, it feels like forever. How are you? Shaha not eaten you yet?"

"Err, nah. I'm still all here. Every bit." Mtundu looked around. Everything appeared changed, and the scents were overwhelming even to Mtundu's nose. Nengwe rushed over to him, dropping down, licking him. "Yeah, Nengwe, see? I'm jus' fine."

"Great! What have you been up to eh? Hunting? No, that's not you is it… I know, walking under the moonlight discussing stuff."

"Yeah Nengwe, something like that." He put his arms around the lion's neck. "And what about you? What'd you been up to eh?"

"Oh nothing."

"Nuttin'? Yeah right, and where's Falana?"

"Oh she went off a while back. She swears she saw something out there. Wouldn't say what. Just ran off. You know how she is."

"What did you do to her? How is she? Jus' what kind'a nuttin' you been doin'?" It wasn't just the rock, it was Nengwe that carried the scents: rancid meat… not sure what; musty water, damp earth… ah yes, that… and… Falana. He smelt of Falana. "Cummon Nengwe, what have you been up to for all this time? Been out much have ya?"

"Not much, just pottering around. Here, there, relaxing, you know."

"Yeah, I've got a pretty good idea. I reckon you've got just a hundred and ten more nights of freedom. Then you'd better get used to being called 'Dad' lots of times… very early in the morning."

"A hundred and ten, you've counted?"

"Nah, Shaha told me."

"She's counted? Wow, she really doesn't get out much these days does she?"

"Jeez no, Nengwe. She didn't count. She's got better things to do. An old friend told her once, that's all. That's my kinda nuttin' you've been doin'!"

"Ahhh."

"Yeah, and that ain't all. When did you do all this?" Mtundu spread out his arms surveying the lions' paw-work.

"Falana and I did it… together." Nengwe nodded, his eyes alight with a brighter glint than ever Mtundu had seen. "We still got a bit of work to do, but the cave is… come and look!" The lion jumped up, whipping himself from the baboon's arms. He rushed over to the cave mouth. "Come on Mtundu. Come and see for yourself what Falana did with me."

Mtundu wrinkled his brow. "I don't think I got the strength for that Nengwe."

"Come on. It's really… cool. Honest."

Mtundu got up and walked across the promontory. The lion bounced inside the cave. Mtundu walked slowly through the gap in the rubble. 'Aah,' he thought, 'Gemsbok…'

The lion stood proudly on the platform deep inside. Mtundu approached and stopped before him, looking around. It was certainly something. Actually it really was pretty cool, in all senses. Yup, Nengwalamwe had had a good time.

"Hey, now you're here we can go and find Falana."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Well, maybe she wants to be alone or something, but after a few days here I'm a little stiff."

"A little? Hind legs?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Just a hunch."

"Just a haunch eh? Mtundu, I need to run it off."

"Yeah right. Go on then, off you go."

"Oh no Mtundu, you're coming with me." The lion crouched on the platform. Mtundu smiled, laughed and walked forward shaking his head.

"Just don' jump off Nengwe. I wanna stay alive!"