by Colin Dann
When it began to grow light she left the cave and stood motionless by the stream, listening as always for human sounds. She had learnt caution. However, nothing could be heard that gave her concern. Numerous birds were at the stream edge, dipping their beaks into the water and throwing back their heads to savour the tiny droplets they took into their throats. Lorna was so still the birds were unaware of her presence, but when she stepped towards them, meaning no harm – she too needed to drink – they took to the air at once in a mass, chirping and screeching their alarm calls. Others who wanted to reach the water perched nearby and scolded the huge interloper. Lorna ignored them and drank her fill. Then she sat on the bank, washing her face with her paws with elaborate thoroughness. Her fur was thickly stained with the fox’s blood.
Some of the bolder birds began to mob Lorna, flapping and buzzing around the mysterious animal, having no way of recognising her vast strength. They screeched at her, trying to dislodge her from the spot. For a while Lorna tolerated the mild irritation, but eventually some strayed too close. With a nonchalant flick of her mighty paw, Lorna brushed them away as if they were no more than flies. The birds crumpled instantly and dropped to the ground where they lay still. Lorna glanced at them without interest, but there was something about their appearance which struck a chord in her memory. The little bloodstained bodies were very like some of the remains she had first found in the cave and eaten eagerly.
‘These might be useful later,’ she told herself. ‘But I could do with more of them.’ She moved closer to them then and examined them. ‘I’ll need bigger ones in future.’ Lorna was gaining in confidence. She had almost forgotten about the human threat.
The rest of the jittery birds had fluttered back to their perches in the high branches. Lorna glanced up at them, lazily watching their hurried movements. She yawned and stretched. Sunlight began to fill the forest clearing and Lorna sought the warmest corner, resting her back against the trunk of a pine and narrowing her eyes against the glare. There was no need to do anything for a while. Lorna had the typical cat’s genius for saving energy until it was required.
The meat lures placed at forest entrances dried rapidly in the hot sunshine. Swarms of flies settled on them and laid their eggs. The meat had hardly been tasted by any beast and not at all by Lorna. The police officer’s prediction had been correct. Yet the team assembled by the newspaper knew that Lorna was no hunter, and they wondered why hunger hadn’t driven her out of hiding.
‘Perhaps she’s not in the woods any more,’ one of the old keepers suggested. ‘She could travel a long way overnight.’
‘Too big not to be noticed by someone,’ replied a colleague. ‘No tracks anywhere, are there? No tracks at all.’
‘The ground’s too dry for pug marks to show up,’ the first man returned. ‘I still think it’s possible.’
The team leader said, ‘We’ll have to search the forest. There’s no other way. They want results. The police are fretting and the Daily’s scribes are running out of stories.’
‘When do we go?’
‘Tomorrow. Unless something brings her out before then, but I wouldn’t count on it. We’ll start early morning – that’s the best time.’
‘Will you be armed?’
‘With the stun gun, yes.’
‘And then what?’ the sceptical man asked. ‘If you manage to hit her, how are we supposed to carry a fully grown, unconscious lion out of the woods?’
‘It depends where we find her.’
‘If we do.’
‘Yes, all right, Brian,’ the leader responded wearily. ‘We have to find her some time and we must simply hope she’s not buried herself too deep in there. Because there’s no way we can get a trailer anywhere except on the edge of the forest.’
‘Unless we clear a path?’
‘It’d take too long. You can’t start felling trees and expect a lion to wait around while you’re doing it.’
‘It sounds to me,’ the sceptical Brian declared, ‘as if the cards are pretty well stacked in Lorna’s favour.’
The lioness had reached the point where she didn’t need human help any more. She stayed near the cave during the day, sleeping and grooming herself. Birds kept their distance now, except when she was asleep. Lorna crunched up the tiny dead creatures who had strayed too close, swallowing bones, feathers and all. She wanted bigger prey. Occasionally during the day she saw a flash of movement under the trees; a squirrel or a rabbit, usually at a distance. Lorna remembered how the songbirds had been brought down, and planned to use the same method on other quarry.
At dusk, as the air cooled, she was ready for more activity. Silently and with all her senses sharp and keen, she set off to hunt. The native animals of the woodland, predator or prey, were mostly ignorant of Lorna’s presence in their midst. When one or other did see the huge beast moving beneath the trees it would first scamper to a safe place and then look back with curiosity. Twice Lorna came close to catching an animal unawares. A weasel emerged from a hole in front of her nose but ducked back with astonishing speed before Lorna could strike. She sat and waited for its reappearance but the weasel knew better and Lorna eventually grew bored and went on her way. Her second chance came near a badger’s sett where some young badgers were romping in the moonlight. Lorna loomed close, casting a great shadow over their antics. As she raised her massive paw the badgers sensed her presence and scampered for their tunnels. Lorna growled in annoyance and moved on.
A little later the lioness was intent on following a large animal that was browsing here and there as it explored a shrubbery. It was a solitary roe deer stepping daintily while it craned upwards to pick off some choice leaves. The deer was naturally one of the most timid and nervous of the woodland’s inhabitants, and Lorna’s approach had to be the essence of caution. One step at a time, keeping her head and body low, the lioness edged closer. Again and again the deer paused and held itself perfectly still as it listened, before returning to its browsing. Lorna, like all cats a mistress of stealth, had the patience to match. Little by little she neared her goal. The deer moved to a fresh growth of leaves on another plant. Lorna began to see that it was unlikely that she could get quite close enough to fell this animal with a blow. She prepared to spring.
A dry leaf rasped. The deer was startled. Lorna leapt and just caught the deer’s hocks as it skittered away. The lioness’s weight momentarily slowed the animal, which shrieked in fear and pain, but Lorna hadn’t been able to get a firm enough grip and the deer bounded off. Lorna was left to roar her annoyance and frustration as she lay full length on the carpet of dead leaves. The thunder of her complaint rolled through the woodland, reverberating in the clear night air.
Ratel, the honey badger, heard the roar and recognised it at once. He was far closer than last time, and hastened forward, growling excitedly to himself. Night-time was his hunting time too. Voles, mice, frogs and birds had all fallen to his cunning and skill. He was an excellent climber and had taken eggs from lofty nests. But now, above all, he wanted to find his friends. He began to call. ‘Lions! Lions!’ he squealed noisily.
Lorna stood up and shook her head, grumbling at herself. She saw movement and swung round. A white and black animal was scampering towards her joyfully. At first she didn’t recognise her old neighbour. She crouched, ready for a leap; she had learnt the lesson of her previous failure.
‘I found you! I found you!’ the honey badger cried in triumph.
Lorna relaxed. The animal voice she knew so well had registered just in time. ‘Ratel,’ she boomed in surprise. ‘Do you live here? I – we – I thought you were dead.’
‘I came close to it,’ the badger answered. ‘The humans wanted to kill me but I outwitted them. I escaped and I’ve avoided them ever since.’
Lorna was pleased. ‘I’m glad you’re free too. If only . . .’
‘Your sister? Are you alone? Where is she?’
‘I don’t know,’ Lorna answered sadly. ‘The men shot her and she c
ollapsed. I managed to trick them too. They’ve been trying to catch me but I found a – a – dark place. I hide there. I miss Ellen terribly. I don’t know how to find her.’
The badger understood. ‘You can’t find her,’ he said. ‘You must learn to live alone, lion. Like me.’
Lorna sighed deeply. ‘I have been learning,’ she said. ‘It’s difficult. Will you . . . stay around here?’
‘Yes, now I’ve found you.’
Lorna was comforted. ‘I’m glad. Have you made a home?’
‘Several. And there are ready-made dens all over the forest. I just move from place to place. It’s simple – the creatures who made them just run away from me. I make myself fierce.’ He bared his huge teeth in a sort of grin. ‘They can’t compete. They’re a soft lot. But you must have found that out?’
Lorna considered. ‘Sort of,’ she admitted. ‘I’m not quite used to the place yet. Oh, you’ve been gone a long time.’
‘Yes, I can hardly remember the old place. I never realised there was all this’ – he meant the world beyond the zoo – ‘it’s marvellous. So much space. So much to eat.’
Lorna picked up on that. ‘Is there? For you? Where do you find it?’
The badger explained how he hunted. ‘You can do the same,’ he added, ‘though you need bigger game.’
‘Yes. I’ve seen some of it. I missed last time. I must look for more.’ A thought struck Lorna. ‘How did you find me?’
‘I heard you calling for your sister – I’ve been searching ever since. And then I heard you roaring tonight.’
‘Ratel, you’re my friend. And I’m yours.’
‘Of course. As always. Are you hungry, lion?’
‘I certainly am.’
‘Come with me,’ said the honey badger. ‘I’ll dig some meat up for you.’ He trotted away, the huge lioness padding behind him. They came to a burrow with several entrances. ‘This is where they vanish when they think they’re in danger,’ the badger explained. He ripped at the soft dry soil with his powerful claws. In no time he had torn his way into the tunnel system. The speed with which he dug into the earth and flung it behind him astonished even Lorna. Two rabbits dashed out of the warren in panic. Lorna crushed one with a blow. Her companion seized the other in his teeth. Lorna roared her approval.
‘Don’t stand a chance, do they?’ Ratel chirruped with his jaws full. ‘It’s so easy.’
Lorna appreciated the unexpected meal. ‘I’m grateful,’ she said. ‘Soon I hope to surprise you.’ She was proud and wanted to rely on herself. ‘Stealth is the key. Stealth and strength.’
Supremacy
Lorna was not alone in employing stealth. The men who comprised the search party early next morning were every bit as furtive. They trod carefully and hardly spoke as they entered the forest from the sheep field, carrying nets, rope and a sling. At each step they searched for a clue that Lorna had passed that way; that they were on her trail. However, they were not experienced trackers, so only the more conspicuous signs left by the lioness were likely to be noticed. They penetrated deep into the woodland, feeling less like watchers than the watched. The men were tense and anxious, aware that at any moment the elusive Lorna might suddenly crash through the undergrowth alongside them. They kept close together.
The team leader, Martin, tried to instil some confidence into the party. ‘There’s nothing to worry about. If she hears or sees us she’s going to run from us. That’s when we have to be on our toes if we’re to catch her.’
‘But we can only pursue her if you’ve managed to dart her,’ Brian remarked. ‘What if you miss?’
‘We carry on trailing her and try again. She’s more frightened of us than we are of her.’
One of the others murmured, ‘Want a bet?’
They kept on steadily. At last they found some evidence that they recognised in the shape of fairly fresh dung. ‘Unmistakable,’ said Martin. ‘Good. She’s still around.’
‘It’s a big forest,’ another man remarked cynically. He had just spoken when the search party stopped abruptly, each man glued to his spot. A low growl in the near distance had been heard by all of them.
‘That’s her.’ Martin spoke with assurance. ‘Now’s our chance. Proceed with caution.’
‘What were we using before?’ the cynic whispered with a smothered laugh.
They saw a slight disturbance in the midst of a growth of fern about twenty metres ahead. They crept forward slowly, without any sound. Martin held his air rifle ready. Lorna’s tawny coat was clearly visible amongst some greenery. As the men approached she emerged from the ferns, rear end first, dragging something backwards. She had no suspicion of the men’s proximity, absorbed as she was with hauling a young deer she had killed free of the vegetation. She dropped her kill to get a better grip. One of the men gasped, partly in surprise, partly in admiration. He couldn’t restrain himself, and Lorna heard him. She spun round, saw the men, and, pausing only to snatch her prey in her great jaws, lumbered away, lugging the carcass between her forelegs.
Martin took a sight and pressed the trigger but Lorna’s lurching movement caused the dart to go over her head. Now the men ran forward, Martin leading.
‘Get the nets ready!’ he cried. ‘If we can entangle her, I’ll shoot again.’
Lorna was encumbered by the deer and the men were pressing her. She hated to lose her kill, but her fear overcame her appetite. She discarded the carcass and jumped into some dense brushwood, burrowing away out of sight until she could pull herself clear on the other side. Then she raced for her den, instinctively heading for the darkness of the cave. The men were thwarted for the moment.
For a while longer the team persisted, following the direction of Lorna’s flight and expecting every minute to find her skulking in the undergrowth. But there was no trace of her. They searched other tracts of the woodland but drew a blank in each one of them. Reluctantly Martin decided to abandon the hunt for that day.
‘She’s bound to leave the forest now,’ said Brian. ‘She knows it’s not safe.’
Martin pursed his lips. ‘We’ll see,’ he said phlegmatically. But he was worried.
During the night Lorna retrieved her kill. She ate her fill while the honey badger watched her enviously. He was permitted to polish off her leavings and this set the pattern for the future.
Far from feeling insecure, as some of the men thought, Lorna believed herself to be completely safe. She had the perfect lair in her cave. The men hadn’t followed her there which seemed to prove to Lorna that, as long as she had her secret bolt-hole, she could come and go as she liked. The deer meat had thoroughly satisfied her and she wouldn’t need to kill again for a while. Also, the appearance of the honey badger had ended her isolation. For the time being she was content. Memories of Ellen still hovered in her mind but they were slowly fading. The increased activity of life in the woodland occupied Lorna in a way she had never known before.
The honey badger took to following her around. He had spent most of his life alone – first in the zoo and then in the woods – and he relished having a companion. Lorna tolerated his presence up to a point. She enjoyed the familiarity of her old friend but there were times when she wanted to be on her own. She soon made this apparent.
‘Now, Ratel, where is your den?’ she asked pointedly as the badger showed signs of wanting to join her in the cave. She stood by the entrance, blocking the hole with her body and watching him lazily.
‘Oh, anywhere convenient,’ he replied airily. ‘I’m not fussy so long as it’s dark and hidden away.’
‘Don’t you have a special place?’
‘No-o, not really. I just—’
‘Well,’ Lorna interrupted him, ‘this is my special place and mine alone. And I want to keep it that way. You understand me, don’t you?’
The badger backed slightly. Lorna was so huge and imposing. ‘Er – yes. Yes, I understand.’
‘Even humans keep away from here,’ Lorna continued, ‘so, you see, it’
s a sort of secret place.’ She yawned and stretched her mighty limbs. ‘Of course, I’m happy to have you nearby, you know.’
‘Nearby. Yes,’ the badger echoed. The position was clear enough and he accepted it. He lifted a back leg and scratched his belly. He wasn’t afraid of Lorna but he was aware of her strength and respected it. ‘I’ll leave you, then, lion,’ he said and trotted away. He turned once to look at her majestic figure and paused in admiration. ‘There’s nothing to rival her here,’ he murmured.
Lorna already felt her position of supremacy in the forest. Her stature gave her a new assurance. At times she heard human voices, but as her knowledge of the woodland grew she found it easy to evade any attempt to recapture her. The men were frustrated at every turn and realised they needed new tactics. It was decided to use dogs for the first time to try to flush Lorna from cover. In that way the men hoped to have just time enough to dart and sedate her.
Lorna had no experience of dogs and the men knew that. ‘She won’t know how to deal with them,’ Martin said. ‘They’ll confuse her. It’ll be our best chance yet. She’s become too wary. Even the police helicopter couldn’t pinpoint her. But the dogs’ll make a difference.’
A working bloodhound with its handler was hired. The dog was introduced to Lorna’s scent at the zoo and set on her trail. The men followed with a pair of bull mastiffs which were to be used to keep the lioness at bay. These dogs were utterly fearless but, just as Lorna had no knowledge of dogs, so the dogs had never seen a lion.
By now Lorna’s range in the forest was extensive. She knew the best places to stalk deer and where the rabbit runs were. Twice more she had encountered and killed foxes. She had learnt always to listen for unusual sounds in the daytime. She knew that humans preferred the daylight hours. On the morning when Martin led his team of men and dogs into the forest by the usual route, Lorna was in her lair. But she wasn’t sleeping. An overpowering thirst kept her wakeful and she returned continually to the stream to drink. The bloodhound picked up her scent very quickly and bayed deeply. Lorna raised her head. It was a sound she didn’t recognise. But she knew it was an animal sound and, to Lorna, an animal sound in these woods meant possible prey.
