by Colin Dann
‘Males complicate things,’ she muttered, feeling the familiar twinge of jealousy as soon as Battlescars came into her mind. ‘They’re better off without me for the moment,’ she mumbled, ‘though I can’t stay here for long.’ Head on paws, she fell into a doze.
Day dawned bright and clear. The clouds had passed over and the temperature rose quickly. A shaft of early sunlight penetrated the sparse canopy of the stunted fig tree and fell on Kimya’s face. She woke and looked up. The tree’s branches were bare of bird life. ‘I thought so,’ she said to herself. ‘The goshawk has flown.’
But she was wrong. A little later Ratel and Clicker emerged from their den. As if at a given signal the hawk zoomed in from wherever it had been roosting and found a perch in the fig from where it could watch their movements. The honey badgers pretended they hadn’t noticed and set about their foraging. Kimya peered up at the bird, directly above her. The lioness was well hidden from the unsuspecting hawk, which imagined itself completely safe as it watched confidently for the appearance of food.
‘That bird’s going to get a nasty shock,’ Ratel hissed to his mate with the greatest satisfaction. ‘Our lion friend’s on the top of the rock.’
Clicker said nothing. She wasn’t beyond thinking that, after the lioness had dealt with the goshawk, she might turn her attention to them. She just wished for the episode to be over so that she could burrow away out of sight between the rocks where nothing could reach her.
Ratel caught a mouse and sat looking at it. He knew the bird was looking at it too. There was a flap of wings as the goshawk abruptly launched itself from its branch, followed immediately by a shriek. Kimya had reared up simultaneously and aimed a blow with one powerful paw at the swooping bird. She caught only its tail as it dived past her, but it was enough to rip out its long tail feathers. The goshawk managed to steady itself, though it corrected its flight with great difficulty, shrieking its chant-like alarm cry. However, when it sought refuge back on the topmost branch of the fig, the lack of its tail feathers upset its balance and its grip was uncertain. Screeching in panic, it tumbled from its would-be perch and crashed down through the branches, where Kimya pounced again and finished the job. Then the lioness bounded from the rock.
‘You won’t be troubled again,’ she grunted.
Clicker showered nervous praises on her in a bid to ingratiate herself. Ratel was simply relieved. ‘I knew you could do it. We’re in your debt, lion.’
‘No,’ Kimya answered. ‘It was a debt repaid. I owed you.’
Ratel knew at once what she meant. ‘Well,’ he said with some emotion, ‘friends always now. Eh, lion?’
‘Always,’ said Kimya.
The goshawk’s last piercing cries had attracted attention elsewhere. Other lions were calling to each other about the commotion. Kimya remembered in haste that she was a trespasser in strangers’ territory.
‘I must get out of here,’ she told the badgers sharply. ‘Can’t stay a moment longer.’ She sniffed the air and looked around to make sure her exit was clear. ‘Goodbye, Ratel!’
Kimya sprang forward and ran. Ratel called after her, ‘I hope we see each other again.’ Kimya was out of earshot before he had finished but it didn’t matter. She understood, and she shared his sentiments.
Clicker felt differently. ‘I hope we don’t see each other again,’ she said bluntly. ‘I’m not happy with lions about, despite what that one’s done for us.’
‘There are lions. And there are friends,’ Ratel replied loftily and he began to pluck the goshawk with his powerful jaws.
Kimya crossed the alien territory in leaps and bounds. She knew the lions of the neighbourhood would be at their most alert in early morning. She was approaching familiar ground and congratulating herself on her safe passage when a male lion suddenly appeared ahead of her. She stopped short, weighing up her chances. The animal was solitary and no bigger than she was. Kimya relaxed. She had the lion’s measure. Its mane told her it had barely reached full maturity. They stared at one another. The male gave a growl of greeting. Kimya didn’t return it but she recognised the young lion’s voice and found herself tingling with excitement. It was Challenger.
‘I wondered when I’d come across you,’ he said. ‘I knew you’d left your pride.’
‘I haven’t left it,’ she answered brusquely. ‘Don’t make that mistake.’
‘Well, why are you here?’
‘It wouldn’t interest you to know,’ she replied. ‘But I can tell you that I’m returning to my family right now.’
‘Of course you are,’ Challenger said serenely. ‘How’s the male?’
‘How can you ask such a question?’ Kimya snapped. Then she groaned, remembering Blackmane with sadness.
‘Well, I didn’t kill both of them,’ Challenger leered. ‘What of the survivor?’
‘He’s fully recovered,’ Kimya retorted. ‘You needn’t sound so smug. He’ll be ready when you come calling again.’
‘How do you know I will?’ Challenger asked, amused.
Kimya realised she had almost given herself away and was annoyed. She tried to recover ground. ‘Are you so easily put off?’
‘Oh, no. How’s your sister? Still as close as ever, the pair of you?’
Kimya blinked. The young upstart seemed to know all about her situation. Or was he guessing? ‘Closer,’ she fibbed. Now she saw the scars on his body and astonished herself by feeling a rush of sympathy. ‘How are your wounds? Still smarting?’
‘Of course they’re still smarting,’ he admitted honestly, ‘I nearly died.’
Kimya softened. ‘I’m … glad you didn’t,’ she heard herself saying. ‘One death was enough.’ She began to move away, aware that she had probably given the young lion encouragement without meaning to.
‘Wait!’ Challenger called, trying to think of something that might detain her. He came closer. ‘Did your cub return?’
Kimya was puzzled ‘My cub?’ Then she thought of Moja. ‘You mean—’ she began, then interrupted herself. ‘How do you know about him?’ she demanded.
Challenger started to explain. Kimya was too impatient to listen. ‘You’ve seen him!’ she exclaimed. ‘Then he’s alive?’
‘As far as I know,’ Challenger replied, and went on to describe how they had spent time together, omitting his own part in preventing Moja’s return. ‘I lost touch with him. I’m surprised he hasn’t found you by now.’
Kimya suspected there was more to the story than she had been told. But all she could think of just then was to bring the glad news to Huru. ‘Thank you for this,’ she said. ‘I know someone who’ll be even more thrilled than I am to hear it.’ And she raced on her way without a second’s hesitation.
Battlescars was hungry. Huru had moved the cubs to a place of concealment while she watched a group of zebra. She needed to make a kill. The male lion shadowed her reluctantly, waiting only for Kimya’s reappearance as an excuse to absent himself. Huru had no reason to trust Battlescars as a hunter – he had no flair for it – so she too looked forward to Kimya’s return. She would have been even more impatient had she guessed at the news her sister would bring.
‘Sister!’ Kimya bounded up, panting and frolicking in her high spirits. ‘He’s alive! Our cub’s alive!’
Huru forgot all about hunting. ‘Do you mean … can you mean …’ She was trembling.
‘I mean Moja! Yes! He’s alive and somewhere not far away. I’ve been speaking to’ – her voice dropped to a whisper as Battlescars showed signs of interest – ‘the brave young lion.’
Huru didn’t question Kimya’s motives in conversing with Blackmane’s killer. She was desperate to hear more about Moja. ‘Tell me all about it later,’ she said in a low voice as Battlescars joined them.
‘Is it Moja you’re talking about? Where is he? How do you know he’s still alive?’ the old male demanded eagerly.
Kimya gave him the chief facts. ‘I don’t know where he is,’ she finished. ‘But he’s feeding himsel
f and surviving. He must come back soon. Oh, won’t the other cubs be delighted?’
‘Food first,’ Battlescars decreed. ‘They need to eat. We all need to eat. Than we’ll decide what to do about Moja.’
An hour later the pride slumbered, undisturbed by the noise of jackals and vultures competing for the scraps remaining from the lions’ repast. The cubs, as usual, were the first to rouse and their antics quickly awoke the lionesses. Huru and Kimya knew that now was the time to give them the news of Moja.
‘Listen, all of you!’ Huru’s eager voice made them pay attention at once. ‘Your brother Moja isn’t lost. He has been seen and he’s healthy and coming back to us.’
The cubs’ reaction was not what she and Kimya had expected. As time had gone on the youngsters had stopped asking about Moja and had all but forgotten him. Now they were quiet while they tried to deal with what were only faint memories of their missing playmate. Huru and Kimya helped by reminding them of some early incidents when they had all been together. Mbili and Tatu particularly became very excited then.
‘Our brother’s coming! Our brother’s coming!’ they cried, beginning to look out for him there and then. Nne, Tano and Sita, their cousins, were drawn into the excitement.
‘Wait,’ said Kimya. ‘He has to find us first. We don’t know how far away he is. But he will come.’
‘One day we’ll all be together again,’ Huru added.
Battlescars was aroused by the lively cubs. He began to think about Moja and how a sturdy cub who had managed to survive on his own for so long would be an asset to the defence of the pride. Battlescars had felt vulnerable since his brother’s death and badly needed allies. The cubs were too young to be of any use yet, but in Moja’s case there was the prospect of a male with real strength and courage that he could rely on in the future.
For Battlescars knew his days as the dominant lion were numbered. He was aware that his strength was ebbing and that soon there would be challenges to his authority that he couldn’t meet. Moreover, he didn’t feel like waiting on the off chance that one day Moja would find his pride. He – Battlescars – wanted to ensure it.
‘It’s time I went to look for Moja,’ he announced suddenly. ‘I shall search for him high and low until I find him.’
Huru and Kimya felt some surprise. It was unusual for an adult male to show such concern for a cub. The sisters exchanged glances, then looked at Battlescars through new eyes. He looked back at them steadily, proudly. He understood their thoughts.
‘We need him here,’ he said.
—9—
A Rescue
Moja was still longing for the day when he could cross back over the river. Whenever he could he went to look at it, willing its flow to diminish. And, with the onset of the dry season, the river’s level was beginning to drop. But not fast enough for the fretting lion cub. Sometimes he was in such a froth of impatience that he would wonder about taking the plunge and swimming across. Then the memory of the river’s power would deter him. Meanwhile he stayed close to his new friends, the black rhino calf and mother.
The rhinos preferred bush to open country on the whole. Where they went Moja followed. The two youngsters became firm companions and Moja gave the rhino calf a name: Pembe, meaning horn. The lion cub felt safe in the bush. The rhinos had no enemies now that Pembe was too big to arouse the interest of predators. So, as long as Moja didn’t stray far from them, he was well protected. Small mammals, reptiles and birds were easy for him to find, but he missed the taste of richer meat: antelope, buffalo or zebra. He fretted about his family. He knew nothing about its fortunes since they had become separated. He often wondered if the pride was still together or even alive.
The cub came to hate the river although he and the rhinos frequently drank from it. It was the one impassable barrier to fulfilling his constant dream. His vigils on its bank continued. Pembe tried to encourage him. ‘The water’s getting lower,’ he would often say. ‘Mother Kifaru says it will be fordable soon.’ But when Moja went to look at it, the river always appeared the same to him. Pembe enjoyed the company of another young animal. He regretted that Moja would soon have to leave but he understood his desperation to find his family.
Battlescars was busy trying to find a trace of his son. He had one advantage: he at least knew where Moja had last been seen. Challenger had described to Kimya his meeting with Moja by the waterhole where Blackmane had died. So the old male had begun his search there. And Battlescars was not alone. There was another who was looking for Moja.
For some time at Kamenza Joel had been wrestling with his uncertainty about the cub. He thought it likely it had been killed but he hadn’t verified it. Finally he felt that he ought to do so and consulted his boss Simon Obagwe.
‘I can’t seem to rest easy,’ Joel explained. ‘I’d just like to know for sure about the cub.’
‘So would I,’ Simon said. ‘And you know how Annie feels about him. Why don’t you go back to the place where you say he ran from you before? You could perhaps use more caution this time?’ Simon smiled and raised his eyebrows. It was a subtle hint. ‘You might pick up a clue. We know, don’t we, that he isn’t back with the pride?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Joel answered. ‘I’ve checked that out more than once. When shall I…’
‘You can go today,’ Simon finished for him. ‘There’s not a great deal to do around here at present. Maybe you should take a couple of the men with you. That way you could cover more ground.’
Arrangements were made and the time fixed. Joel took two men in the Land-Rover with him, Paul and Joseph. They left the vehicle as soon as practicable, making sure it was fairly well concealed before continuing on foot. Joel headed straight for the river; the other two took more circuitous routes. Paul and Joseph were armed in case of a surprise attack by lion or other large game, but they were expert trackers and didn’t expect a disturbance. Joel never carried a gun as a rule and this day was no exception. He told the other men he wouldn’t stray far from the Land-Rover, and would rely on his senses. After years of working with big powerful mammals in one way or another his eyesight and hearing were acutely developed.
Joel saw nothing alarming as he trod slowly and cautiously over the ground. It was quiet. The sun glared and its heat kept most game inactive and under cover. Joel tried to ignore the discomfort but every so often he had to mop his face and neck. He slowed further as he neared the river, thinking he could detect some movement on the far bank. As he approached he saw a tawny shape which set his heart beating faster. Soon he could make out that he was looking at a well-grown lion cub. He paused and watched the young creature lie down and put its head on its paws. Joel’s excitement increased. He was almost certain that this was the cub he longed to see. He needed to get just a little closer to make sure. Before doing so he glanced around to see if it was safe, and also to try to pinpoint Paul and Joseph. He couldn’t see Joseph but he saw Paul on his far right and attracted his attention by waving. Paul began to move across.
A small bird, a honey guide, saw the signal too and flew towards Joel, chattering insistently. It knew of a bees’ nest and wanted help to get into it to expose the fat grubs it relished. It knew help was usually forthcoming because humans liked honey. But it was to be disappointed on this occasion. Joel was irritated by the bird’s fluttering around him, and particularly by its incessant chattering when he needed quiet above all things. The honey guide wouldn’t be put off and Joel feared the disturbance would unsettle the young lion. Sure enough, the bird’s twittering had alarmed it. The cub got up nervously. As Joel moved forward again he could see the youngster clearly and he knew straight away he was looking at Moja. The cub had been making one of his patrols on the river bank to examine the water. Joel was thrilled. He didn’t waste a moment wondering how the cub had escaped the hyenas and all the other dangers he must have faced. It was enough that he had survived and appeared to be thriving. Joel felt a combination of relief and delight and he called jubilantly to Paul that t
heir search was over.
The man’s voice startled Moja. The lion cub saw two men approaching the river and a third running towards them in the distance. He fled for protection to the, rhinos’ side but the mother rhino was frightened by the human presence herself. Moja’s alarm increased her own. She crashed out of the bush and, without thinking, charged off. Her calf Pembe, who had been feeding in a different spot, was temporarily forgotten. The young rhino, left behind, panicked completely. He thrashed about in the undergrowth, entangling himself and becoming more terrified still. Despite his own fears, Moja tried to calm him. ‘Wait! You’ll lose yourself in there. Follow me!’ But Pembe was for the moment blind to reason. He blundered out of the vegetation and ran pell-mell for the river in a desperate attempt to locate his mother.
‘No!’ Moja cried, pursuing him. ‘Not that way!’
It was all over before either animal managed to pull back. Pembe stumbled as he descended the bank and fell on to his side. Moja, right behind, leapt to avoid him and once again was plunged into the river. The current was less dangerous now but Moja’s previous experience in the water sent him wild. Giddy with fear, his attempts to swim were awkward and purposeless. He was in difficulties in no time. On this occasion, though, help was at hand. Joel and Paul raced forward and quickly waded out to the middle where Moja was being whirled about in an eddy. The river had dropped to a level where the men could keep heads and shoulders above the surface, but they had no idea what they were going to do. Moja was no longer small and would fight them. They knew they might be badly clawed.
