Pride of the Plains

by Colin Dann

  Moja was eagerly awaiting his meal. He was very hungry indeed and had been looking out for Challenger since the first rays of daylight. He saw the young adult pacing towards him with the lizard clamped in his jaws and ran out to meet him.

  ‘Did you see them? Did you see them?’ Moja cried as the lizard was deposited on the ground.

  ‘Eat first,’ Challenger said.

  Moja smelt the reptile’s shiny skin. ‘This isn’t meat,’ he declared.

  ‘Of course it’s meat! What do you think it is?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Taste it then. I’ve carried it all this way back for you.’

  Moja took the prey gingerly between his teeth and bit. It was meat and it was still warm, but it tasted strange.

  ‘You’ll get used to eating all kinds of things when you have to hunt for yourself,’ Challenger told him.

  Moja was reminded that at present he didn’t because his mother hunted for him. ‘Did you see them?’ he repeated as he chewed without much enjoyment.

  Challenger considered while he licked a paw and drew it through his thickening mane. ‘Yes,’ he said slowly. ‘I saw them. But it wouldn’t be safe to take you yet. Your father would attack me.’

  ‘When do we go, then?’ Moja asked with his mouth full.

  ‘At dusk. Or – or – a bit later,’ Challenger replied airily. ‘And when you’ve eaten that you’d better go back into hiding.’

  ‘But I don’t want to,’ Moja protested. ‘It’s dark and smelly and damp. And I want a drink.’

  ‘All right, you can drink. But after that …’

  ‘Where can I drink?’ Moja asked.

  ‘Use your eyes,’ Challenger grunted. ‘Plenty of puddles around.’ He relented when he saw Moja’s crestfallen face. The cub was pretty young to be searching on his own. ‘Follow me,’ the older animal said more gently. ‘I’ll find you some water.’

  Moja didn’t want to follow: he wanted to be alongside. He matched Challenger’s pace by trotting two steps to the adult’s one. Challenger glanced at him from time to time from the corner of his eye. He noticed that the cub winced every so often. ‘Are you in pain?’ he queried.

  ‘A few bruises, I think,’ Moja panted. ‘The elephant hurled me.’

  ‘Yes, you told me. But you’re a fine-looking cub,’ the young male said in genuine admiration. ‘You’re well filled out and sturdyish. Your coat’s a picture. You’ve got strong shoulders and feet. You’ll be a mighty hunter and fighter one day. And you’ve your mother to thank for your healthy looks.’

  Moja was puzzled afresh. He didn’t know what to make of this lion who seemed a bully one minute and a friendly older brother the next. Challenger sensibly took Moja to the nearest sheltered pool where, undisturbed, the cub was able to cool his thirst. Challenger drank next to him, keeping a watch for unwanted intruders all the while. Afterwards the lion made haste to lead the cub back to his den.

  ‘My turn to be hungry,’ Challenger announced bluntly. ‘I need to catch something for myself.’ He expected Moja to take the hint and hide himself obediently in the rocks.

  But the cub said, ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘Out of the question!’ Challenger snapped. ‘I can’t have you getting in the way when I’m stalking.’

  ‘I don’t get in the way,’ Moja asserted indignantly. ‘I’m used to following the adults when they hunt. All the cubs do. We’re not babies any more.’

  Challenger was adamant. ‘You’ll stay here,’ he insisted. ‘I want no distractions. Now, go on. Do as I say.’

  Moja knew it was pointless to argue. He took himself back into the rocks but had already decided he would follow Challenger without the adult’s knowledge.

  ‘As soon as he’s far enough away not to notice,’ Moja vowed to himself, ‘I’ll go after him. I want some real meat. I bet he won’t be catching those green things for his own meal.’

  —3—

  Uneasy Companions

  Once Challenger’s back was turned Moja edged out of the hole and watched to see which direction the older male would take. Challenger strode ahead purposefully. He had no reason to suspect that Moja would disobey him. He didn’t turn his head but broke into a swinging trot as he picked out his prey.

  A mother gnu and her calf had distanced themselves from the main herd. The mother was completely absorbed in some choice new shoots of pasture in the wide green expanse of the plains and hadn’t noticed that the rest of the group had moved further off. The calf stuck by her side and Challenger’s steady, determined gaze focused itself on the little creature as he approached the pair. A pack of hunting dogs with their patchwork black, white and yellow coats, long legs and big erect ears were loitering nearby. Their hungry mouths gaped and drooled as they sized up their chances of intercepting the young lion and taking the calf from under his nose. Challenger knew they were there and that they were competitors. As he neared the unsuspecting mother and calf he slowed and dropped down to a stalking posture. Although he didn’t for a moment lose sight of his target he was also keeping an eye on the dogs, who were milling about as though waiting for their leader to make a dart. Moja, slinking forward in Challenger’s wake, watched these competitors excitedly. He looked from them to the young lion and back again, thrilled to be a witness of this drama of rivalry. The dogs were aware of Moja too. An unprotected lion cub was a secondary target if the first one should prove unattainable.

  Suddenly Challenger made his move. He had no choice. The dogs had sprung forward on impulse and the lion bounded across the uneven ground to head them off. At last the mother gnu realised her predicament. She began to run, her calf keeping level, but the pair had left flight too late. Challenger raced up and, with one hefty blow, knocked the calf sprawling on its back. The lion made sure of his prey, grabbing it by the throat and turning to face the rush of the dogs. The pack slid to a halt, yapping in frustration and trying to assess, even now, whether there was a chance they could rob the lion of his kill. Challenger dropped the dead calf and bared his teeth in a ferocious snarl, whipping out his claws and raking the air in an unmistakable warning. The dogs veered away, deciding the risk was greater than they were prepared to take. And now they sought compensation, loping swiftly round to where Moja was vainly trying to hide behind a decaying tree-stump.

  Challenger began his meal but still kept one eye on the hunting dogs, whose behaviour he knew from experience was unpredictable. He saw the lion cub for the first time as Moja jumped up and began to run from his pursuers. His squeals for help were urgent, yet Challenger hesitated, loath to abandon a meal which could easily be stolen in his absence. However, he was unable to continue eating in comfort while he watched the dogs homing in for their own kill. In the long run Moja’s value to him was paramount. Challenger left the carcass and gave chase himself, roaring with all the bluster of which a healthy male lion is capable. As he did so, he realised he wanted to rescue Moja for another reason, too. The cub was one of his own kind, after all, and he didn’t want to see him being savaged by a pack of dogs.

  The hunters were intimidated by Challenger’s charge, but only for a moment. They knew they could outrun him. And they were clever. Relinquishing the substitute prey they wheeled round, quickly aware that the dead gnu calf was now theirs for the taking. As Challenger panted to a stop by the frightened lion cub the leading dog snatched up the carcass by its head and started to drag it away. The other members of the pack snapped at the body until it was dropped and all the dogs lunged at it together, grabbing what mouthfuls they could.

  ‘You stupid little creature!’ Challenger roared at Moja. ‘Where did you think you were going?’

  ‘I … I …’ stammered Moja.

  ‘To your death, that’s where you were going,’ Challenger bellowed furiously. ‘What if I hadn’t been here?’ He spun round. ‘Look what you’ve done!’ he spluttered. ‘You’ve lost me my kill! Those dogs’ll—’ He broke off, growling, and made a half-hearted run towards the pack. But he
knew it was useless. They were easily able to evade him, gulping at their shares of the meat while they ran.

  Moja was dejected and very contrite. He turned and trudged back to Challenger’s boulder, his head sunk low between his forelegs. Challenger caught him up. ‘Don’t ever do that again,’ he admonished him. ‘You see what happens when you try to go it alone? You’re too young and too tender to go unprotected. You nearly made those dogs a nice little meal. I hope you’ve learnt a lesson.’

  ‘Yes,’ Moja whispered. ‘And I’m sorry you’ve had to go hungry. I’m really grateful to you for – for saving me.’

  Challenger relented. ‘All right,’ he said with more sympathy. ‘You’ve had a bad scare. So it evens out in a way, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Shall I go into hiding again?’ Moja asked humbly.

  ‘Yes. I have to satisfy my hunger somehow. There might be some scraps remaining from my stolen meal.’ Now Challenger sounded angry again.

  ‘There’s some of the meat you brought me. I haven’t eaten all of it. If – if you’d like it,’ Moja offered uncertainly.

  ‘Lizard? I don’t think so. Keep it!’ Challenger growled.

  Moja could think of nothing else to make amends. ‘I know I did a stupid thing and I’ve made you really angry,’ he murmured, ‘but – but – you will still help me to find my pride?’

  Challenger considered for a moment. He had no intention of abandoning his plan and he thought how he could best turn Moja’s misdemeanour to his advantage. ‘You will have to do exactly as I say from now on,’ he told the cub briskly. ‘No matter what happens. Is that understood?’

  ‘Yes, Challenger.’

  ‘Then it’s settled. That’s our pact.’

  During the next couple of days Moja’s pride moved further off. The lions were following the herds of prey as the latter continually sought fresh pasture. Challenger managed to keep them in view but he found himself travelling increasingly longer distances from his den area. If it hadn’t been for Moja and the need to keep him fed and under observation, the young male would have deserted his usual base.

  Huru and Kimya, the sister lionesses, were the hunters for the pride. Their skill and intuition meant that their hunting resulted in a high proportion of kills. All the pride members ate well. The big males Battlescars and Blackmane sometimes collaborated in a hunt, although whether they did or didn’t made no difference to the rule that they always fed first and took the best of the meat. The lionesses came second and the cubs were tolerated as they tried to seize what bits they could so long as they didn’t overstep the mark. The system worked well in the wet season whilst prey was abundant on the plains.

  Challenger was cautious in his approach. Huru and Kimya had no idea they were being tracked. It was the males’ job to watch for intruders and Battlescars and his brother were perfectly aware of Challenger’s presence. They remembered him but made no move while he kept his distance. Yet the young adult’s vigil was irksome.

  ‘We should leave here,’ Battlescars said as they lay panting in the heat of the day. ‘We need to look after our other interests.’

  ‘You’re right,’ his brother agreed. ‘And as soon as we do, our constant young shadow’s waiting game will be over.’

  ‘He’ll be around the sisters the moment we’re out of sight.’

  ‘We could set a trap for him,’ Blackmane growled.

  ‘I’ve been thinking the same thing,’ Battlescars said.

  Moja began to doubt Challenger’s motives. Every time he asked the young adult about returning to his pride he got the same answer.

  ‘Not just yet. It’s not safe enough.’

  The first time he was told this Moja reminded Challenger that he had said it would have to be at dusk.

  ‘It will be,’ Challenger had responded. ‘Darkness is the only possible time for you to travel in safety. But we must choose an occasion when there will be the least interference.’

  After that Moja’s question was repeated regularly and always met with the same response. The lion cub was tired of remaining in the same confined area, either hidden away in the rock hole he had come to hate or crouching nearby to eat what was brought him or to lap from a pool. Because of the distance he had to cover, Challenger’s absences became more protracted. Moja was half inclined to run away, but the pact he had made with Challenger kept him rooted to the spot. His only hope was that eventually his unwanted guardian would decide it was safe enough for him to be taken to rejoin his pride, although as time passed his faith in this outcome was gradually being eroded.

  The day came when Challenger couldn’t find Moja’s pride at all. Moving with care as usual he scanned what he understood to be Huru and Kimya’s territory without so much as a glimpse of them. Panting with exasperation, he slunk to a much-used waterhole which he knew the entire pride visited on occasion. An area of bush fringed one end of the pool. Challenger lay down to wait. He didn’t venture into the thicker vegetation straight away but positioned himself under cover at its edge where his tawny hide was well screened. Without stirring he watched successive groups of animals come to drink, from zebra to antelope to a mother rhino and her calf. But no lion showed up. Finally he went to drink himself, keeping constant watch as he did so. He was on the point of leaving when all at once the sister lionesses with their remaining cubs arrived at the waterside. Their appearance was by then so unexpected and sudden that Challenger was startled. Anticipating that Battlescars and Blackmane would now soon appear on the scene, he hastened to return to cover. The sisters’ faces were red with gore and so were those of the cubs. They had recently feasted and were thirsty. Challenger recalled his own empty stomach but he dared not move again yet.

  Kimya had spotted his retreat from the pool and stood for a long while looking towards his hiding-place. She thought she saw him still lurking amongst some foliage. The dipping sun was reflected in the water, making everything shimmer in a golden haze. She couldn’t be sure, but she was eager to know his identity. She remembered how she had persuaded Blackmane to spare a young male who had been badly beaten in a fight.

  ‘Yes, he was a daring youngster. Foolish, too,’ she murmured to herself. ‘I wondered if we’d see him again.’

  Huru noticed her abstraction. ‘What is it, sister?’

  ‘Look. Over there. D’you recall the courageous young male?’

  ‘The stout one with all the bravado? Of course. Is that him?’

  ‘I’m fairly certain of it,’ said Kimya. ‘And if it is him, he’s here because of us.’

  Huru looked solemn. Her first thought was for her young. ‘We should move away,’ she advised. ‘And get the cubs into cover. Battlescars is absent. We can’t take chances, whoever that young lion is.’

  Kimya didn’t respond at once, but bent her head to lap some more. The cubs were splashing in and out of the pool, reckless of any danger as they played.

  ‘Come on, sister,’ Huru urged her. ‘It’s not safe here. We both know what a determined male is capable of.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you like to be sure who it is who’s so interested in us?’ Kimya asked artlessly.

  ‘We’ll find out soon enough,’ Huru growled, and began to move off. She nudged Mbili and Tatu, calling them away from their games. The other cubs followed instinctively and finally Kimya turned and, with a final long glance at the half-hidden male, brought up the rear.

  Challenger remained where he was for a while, still expecting Battlescars and Blackmane to show up. But as time went on he at last began to suspect that, quite by chance, he had discovered the lionesses alone. He pulled himself from his screen and padded, cautiously as always, after them. He paced alongside the pool, his eyes raking the more open country beyond for sight of the two proud sisters he so much admired.

  And there they were with their cubs running between them, just breasting the last of a patch of scrub. Challenger checked his immediate surroundings, then broke into a trot. Almost as he did so he heard the first roars of the males who had tric
ked him. Crashing through the undergrowth skirting the pool, Battlescars and Blackmane leapt on the astonished Challenger from behind, their claws and teeth digging deep into his hide. A din of roaring from all three lions made Huru and Kimya pause and look back. They saw Challenger on his back, fighting furiously for survival, kicking out viciously with his feet at the exposed undersides of his assailants. Blackmane was torn and lost his grip on the younger lion, but Battlescars continued to deal savage bites on his opponent. He aimed a lunge at the throat area which would have been fatal had it connected. But Challenger twisted free and battled hard, knowing his life was at stake. The lionesses hurried away, driving the cubs before them, and were soon out of sight.

  Gasping in agony, Blackmane limped off to tend his wounds. He was badly ripped; blood flowed from several gashes along his chest and belly. With him out of the picture Challenger and Battlescars fought a straightforward contest for supremacy, and eventually Battlescars’s greater strength and experience began to tell. The younger lion’s resistance wavered until finally, severely mauled, he managed to wriggle clear and stagger away. Completely exhausted, Battlescars was incapable of following up his advantage by pursuing Challenger and killing him. He stood on quivering legs, heaving great lungfuls of air, his eyes so dulled by his exertions that he could scarcely make out the direction of Challenger’s retreat.

  When he had recovered his breath, he moved unsteadily towards his brother and slumped alongside him. ‘The youngster’s beaten,’ he murmured.

  ‘But at what cost?’ Blackmane croaked. ‘Look at me. Now you must travel on alone.’

  ‘Never!’ Battlescars declared. ‘I’ll wait for you to recover, brother. How could I leave you?’

  ‘You must,’ Blackmane insisted hoarsely. ‘I shall never move from here. I’ve no strength left.’

  With a heavy heart, Battlescars acknowledged the truth of his brother’s words. Blackmane’s wounds were terrible; Challenger had dealt him his death blow. ‘I shall stay with you none the less,’ he said compassionately. ‘Until … ’