The Huntress at Sunset

23. Lettest Thou Thy Servant

Mtundu leant forward against the wind, low against Nengwe's ear. "So, wher'a we goin'?"

"Anywhere, south maybe."

"Ahh, maybes north Nengwe."

The lion began to stretch his stride, eating up the eastern plain.

"Why?"

"Ya don't wanna run into the dogs do ya?"

"No, do you know where they are?

"Yeah, down south," Mtundu clung hard to Nengwe's back. "They're huntin'"

"You've seen them?"

"No… I just know."

Nengwe slowed to a walk. For days he had barely thought of the dogs. He had had barely thought of anything other than Falana. Why did the dogs have to be part of his life? The alternative was, if anything, even more disturbing. What do lions do? Life would go on without lions and without hunting dogs too. Predators were arguably only a step above parasites, living off other species, but couldn't afford to predate too many for fear of choking off their own food supply. Nothing noble about that, yet other species seemingly wanted to look to lions for guidance and wisdom. Nengwe felt he had precious little of either. He was just a big cat with a neck-full of manky fur and actually he wasn't unhappy with that. If he could help then that was fine too. "North? OK, north it is."

Later, in higher spirits than for as long as either could remember, the pair wandered back to the rock side by side. As Mtundu climbed the path he noticed a smear of blood on one of the boulders. Stopping, he stretched out a finger to touch it. It was still fresh.

"Nengwe, come an' take a look at this."

The lion stepped to his side, seeing the strain of fear in the baboon's stance. "What is it?"

"I hope it's nuttin'. Is that Falana's?"

The lion sniffed at it. He couldn't tell for certain, but it didn't seem to be at all familiar. "I don't think so…" Mtundu turned to him slowly. "But I can't be sure. You don't think… surely…" Realising, the lion pushed past Mtundu and leapt on up the slope. Mtundu ran after him, catching him up on the promontory as the lion stood beside an intact carcass. The previously pervading scents of lion and lioness were now overlaid heavily with the acrid stench of dog: African hunting dog. It even masked that of the impala.

Nengwalamwe turned away in disgust. He felt unclean. He rushed into the cave to wash, to rid himself of the dogs' taint, for it was clearly more than one that had nauseatingly violated his home.

As Mtundu went in after him, the rock trembled to the lion's anguished roar. Within, Nengwalamwe stood over one of the foul beasts, his forepaws pinning it down. It spoke up to him with little fear.

"Yer not stupid lion."

"Nengwalamwe," he growled angrily, "my name is Nengwalamwe!"

"Yeah, whatever. Nengwa-firkin'-lamwe. I see yer'a sharper tool than some. Look they… we 're gonna take you and present you to all the animals, showing just how crap you are to 'em. Telling them how you're just going to nom'em. How'as yer don't give a monkey's about 'em."

The lion seethed. If he weren't standing over it, he would probably have swiped the smile from its face with unsheathed claws; the rest of its face with it.

"Just how are you expecting to capture a lion?"

"Don't flatter yourself li… err, Nengwalamwe. You'll go down easily enough. We can put nine or ten well'ard dogs on you anytime we want. That's what that impala is about: telling you that we can get to you whenever and wherever we like. You're not safe anywhere. You had better watch your back and stay watching it 'cause we're coming at ya."

"Why are you telling me all this? I can kill you anytime I want."

"So as you and what's 'er name… Falana, can get away."

Nengwalamwe, trying desperately to contain his anger, backed off from the dog. "Run away? Is that it?" He closed his eyes and breathed in great gulps of air. "This is some attempt to get me to… to run away again?"

The dog got up. It made no attempt to get away. Its coat shone silver in the half-reflected light of the nearly setting moon.

"Nah Nengwalamwe. I'm trying to warn yer. I have to do what I'm told. Like for all my life I've never got to choose nuffin', 'cept now. I'm choosin' to warn yer."

Mtundu slipped over to the lion, sitting in his shadow. "Warn him?"

The dog leant forward, panting on the baboon. "Yeah, warn him." Sitting back and looking up, she went on, "Well, what about it?"

"I…" He looked down to Mtundu. "We are not going anywhere."

"No lion. Come on, if you can't do it for yourself then do it for Falana… and your cubs."

Mtundu held his arm up in front of the lion. He had no hope of holding him back. "Why should we believe you?"

"Do you think I would come here, right into your den, risking my life to wind you up? Give me a break."

Nengwalamwe, his anger subsiding, considered the dog's words for a moment. "We're not going and you can't take me down, not with Falana and Shaha at my side."

"Yeah right. So where are Falana and Shaha? Where are they? For all you know they could be dead already."

"How?"

"Naah lion, that would be tellin'."

"Tell me."

"Or what? Anyway its one of your kind."

"Lion? Lioness?"

"Naah, wouldn't ya like to know!" Nengwe growled, baring his teeth. "Spotted. Big, spends all day in trees."

"Leopard? Hardly "my kind". When's all this supposed to happen? When are you going to kill Falana and capture me?"

"Dunno. Elizabeth don't tell us nothing 'til it 'appens. Soon I reckon. Few days maybe."

Nengwalamwe paced slowly round the dog. "So you want me to run away. Is that it?"

"I don't care about you. You're just a fluff necked crap burier. I do care about your cubs. It ain't right, killing them too."

"Killing them? I thought you said you were going to capture me."

"Yeah, capture you, put you on trial in front of all the animals and then kill yer, and Falana too if she hangs around. The flea-bag's as good as dead already. I don't want all this killing. Miss Elizabeth ain't gonna' back down. You say you won't either, so how's it all gonna end eh? You can change this. You, lion, can do something good. You can end this bloody mess. Miss Elizabeth says it's all your fault for coming here. We were 'ere first. It stands to reason you've gotta be the one to back down. You owe it to your cubs. So, what do you say?"

Later, the moon, high and full, silver-rippled the grasses of the western boulder field yet it could not touch Nengwalamwe's blackened heart. For once his companion was silent too. They strode resolutely together toward the river, veering off to the south as they saw its dancing sparkle. Much of its fury from the rains was spent; it flowed full but peaceful. Its greatest danger came once again from the crocodiles that frequented its shallows.

They approached the burrows. Nengwalamwe made for the split tree, when he arrived he looked to the bare earth. There was no movement and little sound. The dogs, unlike the lion, it appeared, really did sleep tonight. He dropped the load from his mouth. It fell to the ground before him.

He roared. He listened and waited. Confused yelping yawns. To make sure he had the sleeping burrow occupiers' full attention he roared again. Shouting after, "I got your message. Here's my reply!" He dipped his head down, took up his burden once again in his jaws, and lifted it, swinging it high over his shoulder. Then, twisting his head, neck and forequarters violently, he flung the silvered body of his visitor toward the nearest burrow. It landed heavily, sliding limply on, twisting and rolling along the bare ground.

He crouched, and taking the baboon to his back, struck out north along the river. They did not return to the rock, instead, once well away from the burrows the pair crossed the valley where Nengwe and Falana had hunted together. There were no gemsbok, and neither the lion nor the baboon was hungry.

Pressing onward they came to the lugga. They tracked up its bank past where Nengwe had fallen. Once they had crossed the still soft silt cautiously, they stopped to check for signs of the dogs. The night hung heavy and still as if everything around knew something was happening. Insects still flew and flittered, and with them came the bats from the great rock and elsewhere. There were few large animals moving about. The few the pair saw were still, almost as if hiding. None ran from them, all stayed well away and were only seen fleetingly in the distance.

There was still an hour or more before dawn. Surely the dogs would soon venture out. The first place they would go would be the rock. After that… where? Falana's knoll?

"Don't worry Nengwe, she'll be with her mother." Mtundu's words of comfort had little effect. They had to stay out of trouble until they met up with Shaha and Falana mid-morning. That's all they had to do, but with the moon already set the night grew darkest and the slight chill penetrated both fur and hair and the damp of the grass seeped up through toughened pads.

~oOOo~

A hyena walked head high into the burrows. She had expected the dogs to be asleep, and to have to wake Elizabeth: a delicate and somewhat hazardous task at the best of times. Instead the burrows were chaotically alive. Elizabeth stood outside; her ears flopped down, shouting agitatedly at George.

"I don't give a shit what time of flamin' night it is. He can't just walk in 'ere and insult me like this. I ain't gonna let 'im get away wi'it!"

The hyena paused. Perhaps this was not the best time for her news. Then again, perhaps it was. She walked straight up to Elizabeth.

"Excuse me, Miss Elizabeth?"

"What the hell do you think ya doin' 'ere at this time of night? Doesn't anyone around 'ere ever soddin' sleep? This 'ad better be bloody good."

The hyena waited. Standing straight she looked down on the dog's head. It would be so easy to…

"What the hell are you waitin' for? Get on with it!"

…well perhaps not. "Miss Elizabeth. The silent one says that "Fleabag" is dead and "Ice Maiden" is running off to the south. She's on the trail of "Longnose". It is done just as you commanded."

"What are you going on about? Why are you even 'ere?"

"Shaha is dead, Falana is running away and she's going after the baboon."

"Are you taking the piss? What is this?"

"It's as you said: kill Shaha."

"Yeah I said it but not now: in two nights flamin' time! Now you're telling me she's gone and done it?"

"Err… yes."

The dog sat back. For once she had little to say. Her friend lay dead, killed by the lion, joining Mary and Eddie. If he killed or injured any more she wouldn't have the strength to take him. She could muster eight; that was all. It was enough, just, and now the lion was finally on his own she could take him down. There was no time to waste. No more planning. No more chances for that stinking cat to cause more trouble. He had to die, that day. She was disappointed that she not get to drag it out as she wanted, but that was perhaps a price worth paying as long as he wasn't going to live to see another sunset. So where, his rock? No, he'd be expecting that. He'd hole up there. He knew every crack, every boulder, earth clod and pebble of it. No, it had to be where he wasn't expecting it, somewhere where he could be ambushed; somewhere he'd be sure to go.

They would stay out of his way till the moment was right; there was no point in risking another chance encounter. Then she would avenge Jane's death. Oh yes, the lion would pay, he would pay dearly. He would pay when it was light: when he was tired and they were fresh. She could do it, she had before. Maybe she could get her vengeance after all.

Not all the dogs shared her confidence. None wanted to share the fate of the one whose crumpled body gave compelling evidence to the fact that she had dared to do something about it.

~oOOo~

A little after dawn Nengwe and Mtundu passed not far from where the lion had first set pad upon the lands. Nengwe had come once or twice since to this place. He paused and looked north to the forest and mountains beyond, quiet and sleeping now, wondering about what he had left behind. He remembered his father, but now not with fear: with bitter disgust. His memories of his mother were fonder; richer and warmer now than ever before, especially now that he was most likely to become a father himself. Then there was Talashi…

"Nengwe?" Mtundu's voice was distant. "What are you doin' back there?"

"Oh nothing. I was just…"

"How long d'ya reckon?"

"Eh? Oh, a while or so."

"What do you think she wants?"

"I don't know. I don't know whether they are alive or dead. I just don't know." The lion shook his head, his mane rolling and snaking.

"Nengwe? Shaha, what d'ya think she wants?"

"I don't know. I hope I'm doing the right thing. We are doing this right aren't we?" He peered into the distance. There by a tree on a ridge, silhouetted against the early sun stood a young lioness. "Do you see her Mtundu?"

"Who?"

"I guess not… she's not really there is she?"

"What, Yali? Yeah I see her, over by that tree." She stood holding her head up high; looking to the great rock. "If ya wanna know if ya doin' it right, just take a look. That's what ya doin' it for."

"You do see her! See I told you. I wasn't making her up, she's not a dream. She's really there."

"Yeah Fuzzbutt, she's really there. But hey, she's goin'!"

Yali lowered her head and paced forward. She seemed hurt; her stride was unsteady and broken.

"We can't reach her Mtundu, let her go."

Moments later she disappeared behind the crown of the ridge, making off south. In time, the pair followed in her pawfall. From where she had stood, they could see along the length of the eastern ridge. The tracks along much of its length were partly obscured by fresh grass. They passed the pitted valley where Nengwe had blundered upon his first kill for Falana. A little later Falana's knoll, empty once more, came and went. When the bedrock erupted out of the ridge, rising ragged on their offside, they slowed, moving forward cautiously as they approached the crags of Silent Rocks.

The morning was much like any other. Clouds, patchy and unladen, floated by. Birds chattered, rising in flustered flaps as they passed. Zebra pricked up their ears and turned to the lion before dropping back to graze, unconcerned. In the distance to the south a small group of elephant noisily picked off the fresh flush of young leaves from acacias. From far to the east the call of a leopard, tight and seemingly strangled to the lion's ear, floated lazily on the air.

"Well," the lion said, trying to sound confident as he came to the outer scattered boulders of Silent Rocks, "here we are." He stood for a moment. There was nothing unusual about the day or the rocks. Together the lion and baboon turned toward the crag, slipping among the rocks. Shaha usually lay sunning herself deep in the formation where the narrow paths between the rocks opened out some tens of lengths. To reach her they had to wind their way through tightening alleys and gullies much as Yali had said about Falana: threading their way through the lioness's mind. It was still a strange concept to Nengwe, but one he was beginning to come to terms with and it calmed him to think on it.

"Nengwe, did I tell ya about this stick Shaha gave me?"

"What stick Mtundu? What about it?"

"Yeah its… well its sorta… I don't know, but its uber cool. I mean its sub zero."

"A stick?"

"Sure. She left it round the corner for me. You know, where she lays around."

"'Lays around'? Lionesses like Shaha don't 'lay around' Mtundu, they…." Nengwalamwe stopped dead. His breathing shortened instantly. His ears shot forward. His shoulders tensed and he raised the hair along his spine. He puffed out his mane. His tail began swishing from side to side.

Ahead, on the opposite side of the now much opened space, stood a group of dogs. Their heads down, ears forward, eyes fixed ahead. Mouths slightly open ready to take in lots of air. Three or more in front, more in a narrow arc behind, maybe eight or nine in all. Leading them as they came forward slowly was Elizabeth. To the rear Nengwe could just see a small dark dog, one he did not remember.

Sensing how vulnerable they were from the rear due to the narrow rockbound passage through which they had entered the space, Mtundu jabbed the lion's side with his elbow. The lion looked around. They were surrounded on most sides by high rocks. The only entrances were that through which they had come and another which the dogs covered. Over on the nearside an old wooden stick lay discarded, was that old thing what Mtundu had been going on about? No, enough of that. Back to the business at paw: they had walked right into an ambush, and there was no sign of Shaha or Falana. He turned his head, only to see yet another dog, a burly male, licking his lips as he came up the path behind them.

Mtundu nudged the lion's flank.

Elizabeth stopped and spoke. "About bloody time too. You just don't get it do you lion?"

He tried to look defiant, standing tall. "Get what dog?"

"Yer not wanted 'ere. Why didn't you just leg it when we gave you the chance?"

Mtundu nudged him again.

"Not wanted by who?"

"I don' want you 'ere."

"You don't want me here?" He noticed the baboon was no longer at his side. He spotted him sidling quietly toward the stick. He hurriedly went on, "Yes, I get that but Falana wants me here, so does Shaha."

"Falana and Shaha?" Elizabeth's eyes lit up. "Shaha's copped it, and Falana's gone. Oh yeah, sure you look all regal with that… hair an' everything but face it: no one wants a king that flamin' eats 'em. You're on your lonesome lion!"

The baboon nudged him again. He was back.

"Ah… what about Mtundu?"

"What about 'im? He ain't been any help to you for ages."

"What are you talking about? He's my friend. You're lying."

She edged forward, laying her head over slightly on to her offside, looking at the lion in a curious sideways manner. "Lying? About that waste of space? I'll tell you about Mtundu. He's a spy, an' I don't mean for you."

"A spy?" He felt he needed to add a growl for extra effect. "Working for you? Telling you what?"

"Oo, only everywhere you go. Everyone you see. Everything you hear. Everything you say. Heck, we even know where you…"

He snapped a growl at her, "I know about that."

"Yeah, so do we. I bet you don't know the half of it. We know about Yali."

"You keep her out of it! How is it you know?"

"How? The baboon of course. One of those little cheeky buggers no one takes no notice of. So where is she now lion? Where is your little imaginary friend?"

"She's not imaginary… she's…."

"Oh come on lion. A lion cub no one's ever heard of. No one but you ever sees 'er. Only you ever talk to her. You work it out."

"But she is real. She lives here."

"Oh yeah, a lioness called Yali lived 'ere all right. Right 'ere, I remember, but she's dead."

"Dead?"

"Yeah, snuffed it right an' proper. And what about your traitor friend? He's turned you in again."

"Hey bitch, I've not turned him in. Ya gotta believe me Nengwe."

Nengwalamwe snatched a quiet aside to the baboon, "don't worry Mtundu. She's bluffing." Raising his head along with his voice, "So Elizabeth, what is this all about?"

"Oh, were here to nick yer: to take you in. We're going to show the animals all the bad stuff you get up to: eating them and all that, and show 'em just how little you lions do for them."

"Take me in?"

"Yeah, I'm glad you like that cave: it's yer prison. After a day or two in there with us, you'll wish you'd never been born. After that, we'll take you out to the northern borders. Break your legs, pull open your belly and leave you out in the sun to die. A few dinners out with the vultures and you'll be just another pile o' bones. Either that or we'll kill you 'ere."

"You mean you want me to die?"

"Oh yes, you'll die: painfully slowly. Crying, pleading with me to finish it. But you know what? I think I'll stand there and resist that temptation. I'm gonna really enjoy watching you die."

Nengwe whispered, "Mtundu, I want you to know it's been good running with you."

"Eh? 'Been', Whatta ya talkin' about?"

"I can take three, maybe four, and if you were ever serious about wanting to take down a dog; now may be your only chance. This is it Mtundu: we're going to die."

"Not…" Mtundu started fidgeting awkwardly. "…if I can do anythin'…" He pulled the stick to him, lifing it in both hands. "…'bout it."

"Drop that blasted thing. You're likely to take someone's eye out with it."

Mtundu smiled back. "Wicked. I'm well likin' that! But Nengwe, stall 'em. We need more time."

"Time?" Elizabeth pressed forward. Nengwe raised his shoulders and poked Mtundu's head with his nose. "We haven't got any time."

"Just do it man. Make some. Buy us time damn it."

Time, how am I going to make more time… Elizabeth called her dogs to order, never taking her eyes off the lion, now less than ten lengths ahead. "Watch your starts everyone. George, thirds; second: just remember to lead first this time."

Time…

"third and four-five near-, six-seven off-side. 'Arry … You're covering again still, right?"

A string of dog's hoos clattered off the rock walls from behind the lion and baboon. Ahead the dogs formed up, yelping anxiously behind Elizabeth. Nengwe looked frantically to each side as if he had spotted something. "Wait!"

Five of the dogs slipped out of line behind Elizabeth and turned away to the rear.

"Miss… Elizabeth. Ma'am."

"What the heck is it now…" She spoke coldly. "…Furball?"

"Can't we work this out? Isn't there some way we can settle this maturely… like grown animals?"

"You, a grown animal? Yeah right! Anyway if this other way of yours doesn't involve you dying then no, we can't."

"What? Surely we can end this without yet more bloodshed."

"The only blood that will be shed is yours lion! Just give it up, you can't run away this time."

"I'm not going to run, and you'll not take me alive."

"Dead will do. Takes some of the fun out of it maybe, but dead'll do."

Suddenly a voice came from behind the lead dogs. A wavering, tired voice. "Elizabeth, now let me talk with him. It's what we came here for." The dogs behind quieted and parted.

"Lion, let me introduce you to my mother, Victoria." Elizabeth pulled to one side, letting her elderly mother come forward. She had once been black, but now was largely silver with age. Her ears and lower legs were clean and bright white. She had clearly never been tall; age had done little to change that.

The lion gazed upon her incredulously. "Queen Victoria? I thought she was the imaginary one!"

"No Nengwalamwe," the dark bitch imparted. "Let me assure you we are quite real."

"Ma'am, surely you can see there is no need for all this."

"Ah young Nengwalamwe, it's good to actually meet you after all this time. We've heard so much about you."

"All of it good I hope."

She stopped close to her daughter, who lay at her paws. "Unfortunately no. We've heard all about your comings and goings. We are much amused by your runnings away."

"I'm not running away this time. I'm staying right here. You'll have to take me by force."

"That is indeed most unfortunate. However if it has to be then so be it."

"No Ma'am, it doesn't have to be this way. There is a better way. You, of all… people, must see that this is madness. You, the queen, can stop it. All you have to do is say the word and it stops."

She seemed to consider his words for a moment. Could it be that after all that had happened the madness was about to stop?

"And what then Nengwalamwe? Would you be king? Where would we be then, and my family? What then?" Nengwe made no reply. "No, no it cannot happen. There are traditions to uphold, protocols to follow, agreements and alliances to honour. We can't just let you stay here and raise a family. Unfortunately there's nothing more we can do for you at this time."

Time…

"But your daughter! She's doing all this in your name! She terrorises all the animals. She kills, tortures and she enjoys it!"

The queen once more stood to take in the full force of Nengwalamwe's words.

"Our daughter… ah yes, she does some errr, unsavoury things. That's true." Her eyes darkened and she dropped her head down as if on the hunt. "…But let us tell you this Nengwalamwe: If we were her age we'd do everything she's done and, as your uncultured baboon friend there would say 'and then some'." Seeing nothing from the lion, she eased her head up, turning her ears back. "Now then, if you'll excuse us. It's been a pleasure to talk to you at last. We can't be everywhere. Indeed these last few months we've found it hard to be anywhere for much of the time."

Victoria withdrew stiffly to the rear and evidently in considerable pain. Before she was gone, Elizabeth got up and after a quick scan to see where all her dogs were, she got back to her deadly business. "Right everyone, look to. Lead's going." She started moving forwards slowly, advancing toward the lion once more. "She's… gone!"

Elizabeth's plan had been to take Nengwalamwe alive. She, and her other dogs, knew they could take down a fully grown male lion. They had done it before, but they had had more dogs and had used very different tactics. The dogs were used to tiring out prey that ran from them and then, when they faltered, smothering them while dragging their legs from under them. Taking large prey relied upon getting a critical mass of dog on to the prey in the shortest time possible.

Prey always ran when they saw the lead dogs coming. So often in their panic they forgot about the dogs to each side. They usually stumbled, exhausted, on to the cover who was often the first to strike. Prey didn't stand its ground, and it never reared up and fell upon the lead dogs as Nengwe was about to do.

Elizabeth moved forward, the second lead at her side, both expecting George to stay behind them in support and to add weight after the strike. Instead he had already slipped off to one side and up on to one of the boulders, knowing that getting on top of the lion was the only way to bring him down. They were not going to tire him out. He was not going to run. Unlike Elizabeth, George had a grudging respect for the lion, he was no ordinary prey, and he wasn't going to play by the rules. They were going to have to take him where he stood. It all depended on where the other dogs were. If they were close, the lion was dead.

"Watch my back Mutt."

Mtundu turned away from the dogs and pressed himself hard to the lion's hindquarters. He felt the lion breathe; taking in what might be his last breaths. He used them to snarl and growl, nothing loud, no great roar, no shows of power, only a sudden and explosive use of it: he reared up and sprang down onto the two lead dogs, his claws fully exposed. The dogs saw him rise and shrank back, one jumping out of the way, the other rolling over on to the ground so that the lion crashed down between them. The dog on her back leapt up at his foreleg, managing to get her teeth high into his shoulder. She bit deep, scrabbling her hindquarters out of the way of the lion's teeth. The other dog moved back, fatally failing to support her.

Above, George sprang from the top of the boulder on to the lion's back. He bravely managed to get his claws and teeth into the thin flesh over the lion's spine, but couldn't gain any hold as the lion writhed under him. Had the other dogs joined the fight at that point they might have succeeded in their plan. Instead the lion caught on to the bitch's flank with his teeth and pulled violently up, tearing her through his muscles. It was beyond pain, it was all life and death in one terrible moment. Swinging the bitch, and shreds of his own flesh, over his head, the bitch's hind legs knocked George hard, sending him flying off the lion.

Mtundu saw the cover leaping at him. He tugged at the end of the stick; it flew up from the ground behind him, hit something with a shuddering crack and sung on over his head, landing inelegantly on the ground before him. The cover stopped, keeping his distance. In the confines of the rock he had no way to close on the baboon and yet keep out of the way of that wooden thing, which had just smashed George's neck.

Still one dog held back. She cowered as the lion threw her companion, still barely alive, at her paws. She could see 'Arry at bay behind and George, or what remained of him on the ground to the side. Where were the side pairs? Why hadn't they attacked? The lion bleed profusely from his shoulder and less so from a number of places on his back. The baboon, terrified to be sure, stood undefeated. Where were the others?

Then she saw them, two on a rock to the far side. Their mouths were bloodied; one had a wound to her throat.

Neither lion nor baboon saw them coming. It was a dangerous move, taking advantage of the lion's uninjured flank. The dogs came almost from behind. One thought himself lucky for a moment to knock the baboon over on to his side. The cover boldly took the opportunity presented and came in to the lion's now exposed hindquarter. The three dogs pressed home their strike, forcing the lion to roll on to his side. They ripped at his flank and underfur, but all they had done was to free his rib-crashing hind legs. He cried out in pain, but even now the cowering bitch held firm.

Mtundu, all the breath knocked from him, struggled to his feet, and grabbing the stick, lifted it and smashed into the melee of dog and lion. With claw, tooth and stick the lion somehow managed to rip himself up, and turning round, roared at the three dogs before sweeping into them with his forepaws. He set about them, ripping with his teeth at anything that looked even faintly canid, covering them with his and their own blood mingled in pain and death. When it was done he stood on a dog as it breathed for the last time. He looked over to where the bitch had watched. She was gone. Nengwe collapsed to the ground, knowing that two dogs were still to come. He closed his eyes.

A big voice boomed, "What do you want us to do with this one?"

Nengwe's ear twitched.

Mtundu tried to get up, but sat still, defeated by pain in his ribs. "What are ya doing here Kudlavu?"

"We were just passing."

"Just passing eh? Pull the other one." Mtundu doubled up, gasping for breath.

"We told you we'd cover your back. We can't come in there to you, so what's it to be?"

Nengwalamwe turned his ear round, and then pulled the rest of his head after it. "Hmm," he gasped, "if I were your size I'd do whatever I want, and then some. She's yours; do with her as you will. I have to look after my friend."

The bundle in Kudlavu's trunk shouted, "You'll 'effin' pay for this lion!" The elephant tightened his trunk around the squirming dog. "Mufthrrt…" The dog fell silent.

The two elephants walked backwards until they could turn. Once out of view Nengwe and Mtundu heard a dog's yelp, a bone-snapping crunch and then a dull thud. No one ever saw Elizabeth again.