Sorry this one took so long! Had to update another story first. Also I've been busy. Hope you like the update!

Big Game

A Study In Pride part 5

"There's something different this time," Sherlock said excitedly as they trotted toward the Yard. "They sent for us before dawn; it must have been discovered shortly after it happened. We're sure to have a breakthrough this time, John."

John tried to be happy for Sherlock, but he still wasn't used to the new sleeping schedule and being summoned before dawn didn't help. On top of his sleep deprivation, he had to lope a few strides now and then to keep up with Sherlock's trot, and this depressing arrangement reminded him of his limp, and it began to drag him down even more. "Well, I hope so, Sherlock. I'm beginning to get sick of the whole thing."

"Oh, stiff upper lip."

"What does that mean?" John asked irritably. "What good does it do, keeping one's upper lip stiff?"

Sherlock didn't bother answering.

Lestrade seemed deeply upset by the most recent death. It was one of the pride's best hunters, a female in her prime. She lay in a little thicket of bushes. There was a leather strap around her neck with a clip hanging from it.

Sherlock examined the ground and then walked all around the lioness's body, observing her from all angles. He leaned in close and gave a few sniffs, then examined some details before calling John in.

"Bite's on the right foreleg," John observed. "Up almost as high as her elbow." He nudged her and took a sniff, grimacing at the strong smell coming off her. "She's been dead only a few hours, but she smells of carrion."

"Jen liked to roll in it," Lestrade commented. "Don't know why, but it was a regular thing with her."

"But not a regular thing for lions?"

"They're not so likely to do it as other large cats," Sherlock supplied. "Since lions live together in large numbers they have little need to mask their scent."

"Um, her coat's a little threadbare about the back of her neck... old battle scars, I'd guess, but well healed now. Though that area and her hindquarters are where the worst of the stench are coming from..." With sudden inspiration, John speculated, "Perhaps she'd got a lingering notion of malady in her neck and rolling in something soft gave her some relief." Like my limp still bothers me.

"Very good observation, John. Conclusions are all wrong, of course."

John sighed. He was beginning to get used to this treatment, but it still wasn't pleasant.

"The bite is in an unusual place—less easy to reach than the bitten places on the other victims. Jen was a valued member of the pride, but she sought amorous liaisons outside the Yard."

"What?" Lestrade seemed to erupt involuntarily.

"Also, where's her radio?"

"Her radio?"

"The one she was wearing last night."

"She wasn't assigned one. She's not a cadet."

Sherlock indicated Jen's neck. "But she is wearing the strap issued by the Yard for carrying a radio. She had one last night. So, where is it? Have the cadets scout around for it."

Lestrade gave the order and then came closer to speak in a quiet tone.

"What makes you think she was unfaithful to the Yard?"

"Her serial adultery has nothing to do with her death, I'm sure. But as we all know—" Sherlock halted suddenly, looking around at present company. "Well, as we probably all know, during the mating process a male cat will often take hold of the female's neck, whether playfully or for stability."

John wondered how Sherlock knew that—but he would never ask.

"The marks at the back of Jen's neck are from repetition of sexual relations over and over, despite the fact she's not at the right point to conceive cubs. A faithful lioness has these marks only for a few days after mating, but Jen's are well-worn over time. As for the carrion smell concentrated in that area and around her hindquarters while the rest of her is kept well-groomed, I think it's quite clear what she didn't want her pride-mates picking up on: that she'd been with a male (or several males) outside the Yard."

Lestrade looked as if he wanted to tell Sherlock he was wrong, but could find no evidence against his conclusions.

"There's one more thing. A faint smell like... like marsh rushes. Not sure what that means yet. But find the radio. It may be important. And besides, it is of course a valuable piece of equipment."

"Once we determine which one is missing, we can send a signal to it and possibly find it by sound."

"Yes. No—no, wait," Sherlock said suddenly. "Oh... oh, she was clever. Clever enough to hide her affairs from the pride. And maybe clever enough to plant the radio on her killer without their knowing."

"Without their...?" John gave Sherlock a puzzled look. "How could he not know? Do you think the killer's a kangaroo and Jen just popped the radio in its pouch or something? Animals don't have pockets, you know."

"Lions. Always lions. And always a snake. And an invisible messenger beckoning them to their doom in a secluded location. And the scent of rushes that wasn't at the other sites. Or maybe... maybe it was just so faint that we didn't detect it. Maybe it's because this kill is so fresh. And the radio... Lestrade," Sherlock finally came out of his trail of deduction. "Do you have a way of detecting the radios without contacting their carriers?"

"They do put out a very low-level signal that we can detect with a receiver," said Lestrade, "but it works only at close range and the receiver's very bulky to carry round."

"Well, when you determine which radio is missing, try to detect it. Tell your sentinels to keep an especially sharp eye out—the killings are getting closer together. There could even be another tonight."

"No. There will be no more killings. I don't care if he is invisible; no one's getting past the guard tonight."

The hyenas were winning the game, much to Jim's annoyance. Still, the leopards weren't far behind them, almost tied with the wild dogs for second place, and behind them Irene was holding her own despite being the only jaguar in the game. A rogue lion was playing as well, an old king ousted from the Yard to the north, but on his own he wasn't much of a contender. He came and went from Jim's territory, often choosing to hunt in the wetland and hills where there was more game in the dry season. He probably bothered recording his baboon kills only to show his cooperation with the system, and not because he had any hope of winning.

With Sebastian around, Jim could order anything he liked for dinner and the tiger was nearly always successful in getting it, but if he was out hunting then he wasn't there to protect Jim and make him look impressive. So he kept Sebastian close as much as he could, feeding him from the kills of his minions, letting him hunt only when it was obvious that the boredom and pent-up energy was becoming too much.

"Last day and night of the game," Jason reported to Jim. "The hyenas are still winning by a good margin. Kudu's clan accounts for nearly half their score."

"If we hold this game again, I think we ought to take ratios into account," Jim mused.

"Ratios, sir?"

"Yes; divide the number of kills by the number of animals in each species and count that as their score. If we scored that way now, Miss Adler would be winning easily."

"Hm. Undoubtedly," the secretary bird agreed, though he didn't understand mathematics very well. "The cheetah coalition's doing all right, teaming up with that one female in your territory. That's all worth noting, really. But speaking of your territory, the dry season's setting in."

"And?"

"And a lot of the game, baboons included, are moving north."

"Yes, I suppose they are."

"And therefore, many of the predators are planning to follow them."

"Hm."

"If you're going to stay here, sir, food may be a bit scarce."

Jim knew all these facts already, but he'd been putting off thinking about them. The Serengeti could be quite harsh in the dry season, even now that the continents were back together. "I suppose I could shift north for a bit. Near the marsh, perhaps. But it would have to be someplace with some good caves and tall trees."

"I'll start my birds looking for such a spot right away. In other news, the Yard has been investigating a couple of your sponsored operations, and they've got that cheetah working with them."

"That Holmes cat?"

"Yes, the predator tracker. A jackal told me that a fox told him that an ocelot told him that Holmes is on call to the Yard at all hours, looking over kills and piecing together what's happening. He may already be on to the baboon game."

Jim shrugged. "Let him figure it out. What are they going to do about it? One pride of lions can't take out all the other predators of the Serengeti, and they know it."

"Yes, professor, but there's talk of the marsh area lions helping them out. There have been communications—bird messages and telegrams. If the lion prides begin combining their efforts, it could be a formidable force to deal with. There's even a rumor that the Bureau lions to the west have been in touch about it."

"Interesting. The Bureau and the Yard normally don't work well together; we'll see how that turns out. In the meantime, I want some very subtle surveillance on Homes. I want to know his haunts, his hunting habits, his tracking methods. But he's not to be disturbed. He may prove an amusing adversary."

"Very good. That concludes my report this morning. Do you require anything?"

"Have those useless jackals bring me an appetizer—something besides baboon."

"Right away."

Jim relaxed on the zebra skin and turned to his bodyguard. "Well, I suppose that's that. Game to the hyenas, don't you think?"

"Most probably. You're not fond of them, are you?"

"Hyenas killed my mother. I had to finish raising myself. I was barely a year old. I was fortunate it was the rainy season or I'd surely have starved. I have a healthy respect for hyenas, but I'll never like them."

"It must have been quite a bit of bad luck to make a leopard vulnerable to them."

"Yes; I think she was getting on in years. They caught her as she was trying to take a kill up a tree; still tired from the hunt, not as quick as usual. It's a rare thing, but they managed it. They were a big, bold clan that had been scavenging on her territory as long as I could remember. Still, they do make useful allies, I have to admit."

Sebastian sat at the side of the ledge and looked down at the various animals milling about. "Not so much with Clem?" he guessed.

Jim laughed. "I think Clem's got the least intelligence of any hyena on the plains. But his sense of smell is excellent and he's got good jaw strength. That's why I found use for him. His clan was glad to give him up."

"Is it strange to have so much contact with other animals? Everywhere else I've gone, male leopards have been the most solitary of all."

"Strange? I suppose. Unpleasant at times. But well worth it. My food comes to me. My mates come to me. Others find water for me when it's scarce. My territory stretches for miles beyond anyone else's. I can't complain. Well, I can, but it's a waste of time."

Sebastian smiled at that. "This cheetah you're interested in—once you're done observing him, what do you have planned?"

"Oh, I may kill him. But it may be more interesting to keep him alive. There aren't many I can match wits with. I'd like a worthy rival."

"If you do decide to kill him..."

"You'll be involved, my dear fellow. That I promise."

Satisfied, Sebastian got up and stretched. "Is it all right if I go off for a bit? I've heard of a chimpanzee dealing weapons and I'd like to see if I can get my paws on some firearms."

"I doubt he's got anything in your size, but you're welcome to try. He may have some Lionpaw gauge; that might be large enough."

"I can go, then?"

Jim nodded. "Have fun. But be back before dark."

Sebastian rubbed his face along the side of Jim's, not out of affection but so they could mark each other with their scent. Having this calling card of Professor Moriarty's would ensure Sebastian's safety if his size wasn't formidable enough. In turn, the scent of a tiger would make anyone else think twice about harming Jim in his absence.

When he was gone, Jim smirked to himself. "Good luck with that chimp," he muttered. Then he frowned. "Hang on... did Jason say ocelot? What the hell is an ocelot doing this far east?" It must be one of those freedom fighters leftover from the dust battle in the Middle East. Does he know Holmes personally? What an odd pairing.

"Have Lionpaw handgun. No rifle," the chimp said in his broken common speech. In reality he could speak quite well, but he knew that if he seemed ignorant enough, he could get away with more and charge high prices for his services.

"Can you get a rifle?"

"Can send for one. Can send for Tigerpaw, too. Cost extra."

"Cost?" Sebastian arched his orange brow. "I'm the personal bodyguard of the Professor. You can't be thinking of charging me."

"Professor pay for weapons too, same as anyone. Pay well."

"What exactly do you want?"

"I has taste for meat. Young warthog."

Sebastian grunted. What a pain. I don't mind catering to Jim, but this is ridiculous.

"That for handgun. Rifle cost extra."

"What? You want more? God, you're a demanding monkey."

"No tail," the chimp couldn't help pointing out. He wanted to be seen as ignorant, but everyone should know that chimps weren't monkeys. Monkeys have tails.

"What do you want for the rifle?"

"Rifle take two days relay message by wire. Then two weeks for delivery. Cost of materials very much, cost of delivery very much."

"What do you want?" Sebastian repeated, losing patience fast.

"Want fish and arrow poison."

Sebastian blinked at the chimp. "You're joking. Where would I get arrow poison? For that matter, where would I get fish?"

"Professor deal in poison. Some springs have fish. Your problem."

It didn't seem right to ask Jim for favors, but the leopard had promised him anything he wanted. It also seemed as if this chimp had gotten some poison from him before, so perhaps it wouldn't be a big deal. As for the fish... Sebastian narrowed his eyes. He could swim, and he'd caught fish before, but he didn't enjoy it. "Fine," he said grudgingly. "Place the order and I'll bring the payment. I'll have the warthog by tomorrow."

"Young warthog," the chimp reminded him. "Must be tender."

"You're just lucky I don't see you as tender," Sebastian snapped. "Make sure you have my merchandise ready."

Within a couple of hours, Sebastian had located a warthog den under an old termite mound. He crept forward through the long grass and waited. There was a large female hog, but he paid her little attention. After a long wait in the punishing heat, Sebastian finally saw a piglet emerge from the den.

It was large—nearly weaned—but it would just have to be "tender" enough. Soon another piglet ventured out, but he kept his concentration on the first. He waited for them to wander far enough from the den and then sprang forward.

The young warthog was more agile than he expected, but he still managed to catch it in a few strides. After that it was just a matter of getting away from the irate mother without dropping his prize.

Damned chimp, he thought to himself. But he plodded stoically back to the acacia trees where he'd left the weapons dealer.

"Here you are. One young warthog," he said coldly.

The chimp grinned and tucked the piglet into a gunny sack. "Good. Very good. Here you are. Lionpaw semi-automatic handgun."

"Do you have a holster for it?"

"Holster cost extra."

Sebastian had had about all he could take. He bared his teeth menacingly.

"But for you, free gift," the chimp amended. He knew when to pick his battles.

Sebastian waited while the chimp fastened the gun holster to the leather strap around his neck where it hung beside his hunting knife. "I'll be back for the rifle in two weeks."

"Two weeks, two days minimum."

"Fine—two weeks and two days," Sebastian growled, wondering how a beast so stupid knew a word like "minimum." The sun was low in the sky. He just had time to stop at the watering hole before going back to Jim's perch on the rocky hillside. It had been a long day, but he was satisfied for now.

I should say thank you to all the informative nature programming that can be found on youtube. :p I've learned a lot about lions, leopards, cheetahs and hyenas there, and wikipedia is great too. Not that this story is accurate to nature—my animals are very personified and a little futuristic, like the opposite of steam punk or something.

Thanks for reading! Please leave me your comments. ^^