Scarred Lions

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Scarred Lions Page 6

by Fanie Viljoen


  I sat watching them with a gaping mouth. Every now and again I could hear André and Simoshile chuckling.

  Then, all satisfied, they disappeared to their chalets and tents. The tortoise was finally left to make its way back to the bush in peace.

  Mama Unahti sensed our frustration when we aimlessly hung around the main building after returning from the pool.

  ‘Oh my children, my children,’ she said, her body jiggling as she slapped her hands together. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘We’re bored,’ said André.

  Her face lit up. ‘Nonsense! There’s plenty to do.’

  ‘But we want to go to the bush.’

  ‘No, you heard what Lwazi said. Do you want to become that scarred lion’s prey?’

  ‘But –’

  ‘No buts. There’s a lot to do. Just look around you.’

  ‘Like what?’ asked André.

  ‘Go climb a tree,’ she answered.

  ‘Girls don’t climb trees,’ said Simoshile screwing up her face.

  Mama Unahti clicked her tongue. ‘Ah! Says who? Go, go, go! Before Mister Dreyer sees you.’

  I don’t think Mum would believe me if I told her, but I climbed a tree that day. Simoshile stayed behind on the ground. ‘I’ll keep a lookout for snakes,’ was her excuse.

  ‘Yeah, right,’ scoffed André as he made his way up. ‘As if you would be able to see a boomslang from down there.’

  Could there really be snakes up there, I wondered. A shiver ran down my spine. I decided to keep my eyes peeled and didn’t really bother with the amazing view from the tree.

  The day dragged on. We went back to my home, deciding to play with Umfana. He enjoyed all the attention. And being able to run around freely for a while.

  It broke my heart to tie him up again when André and Simoshile left.

  I sat alone in the chalet, my thoughts were my only company. Waiting for the phone to ring. Wondering if I should call Mum. Better not, I thought. Not before I have permission from Themba.

  The next three days were all much the same, dragging along endlessly. Until at last André called. ‘I’ve had enough of this! Let’s go to the watering hole. Who wants to foefieslide?’

  CHAPTER 15

  ‘Foefie, what?’

  ‘Foefieslide!’ cried André. ‘Don’t you know what that is?’

  ‘No,’ I answered hesitantly. Was I supposed to know?

  André’s eyes again had that mischievous gleam. Apparently Simoshile knew, but the look on André’s face begged her: don’t tell him yet.

  ‘And what about the lion?’ asked Simoshile.

  ‘What about the lion?’ shrugged André. ‘He probably ran off to one of the other game reserves after that shot that was fired. Don’t you think they would have found him by now if he was still around?’

  ‘Probably. But I’m still scared to go.’

  ‘Oh come on, Simoshile! You and I have been to the watering hole a hundred times. Why are you scared now?’

  ‘Because my dad warned us.’

  ‘And so he should have. That’s his job, remember. He’s your dad! But we’re not children anymore. We can look after ourselves.’

  ‘Not in the bush,’ said Simoshile. ‘Things can happen and you know it. Bad things …’ There was dread behind Simoshile’s words.

  I listened to the two of them reasoning it out. And I agreed with both of them. On the one hand I was bored out of my skull sitting around doing nothing. But on the other hand there was the fear of the lion and goodness knows what other animals.

  ‘Look,’ said André finally, ‘even Buyi is keen on going.’

  Where did he get that from, I wondered. I hadn’t said a word.

  ‘Okay,’ said Simoshile, ‘I’ll only go if Buyi goes.’

  Their eyes turned to me. Now I have to make the decision? My mind raced on furiously. Why me? Did Simoshile trust me that much? Or was there more to it?

  ‘Come on, Englishman!’ André egged me on.

  I couldn’t stand it any longer. Before I knew, I nodded sheepishly.

  André’s smile almost ran right round his face. ‘Good! Let’s go!’

  We were in the Namhlanje camp. Water bottles in hand, sunscreen on our faces, and towels over our shoulders. We tried to look brave, but I could see even André looked a bit tense. He surveyed our surroundings with his keen eyes. I tried to as well, but my eyes weren’t as sharp as his.

  We came across some zebras and stopped to watch them for a while.

  ‘Is a zebra white with black stripes, or black with white stripes?’ asked Simoshile softly.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  She only giggled, and never gave me the answer. I didn’t mind though. I simply treasured the moment of seeing my first real-life zebra ever.

  ‘You would usually find zebra grazing with blue wildebeest,’ whispered André. ‘The wildebeest depend on the zebra’s superior vision and hearing in case of a predator attack.’

  ‘And the zebras tolerate the wildebeest because if they do get attacked, the predators would most probably go for the slower wildebeest,’ added Simoshile.

  As with most animals they didn’t like to be stared at, not knowing what our intentions were. They moved on, disappearing into the bush.

  I told Simoshile about the trees André had shown me the other day. She seemed to hang on every word I said. Listening so intently that for a moment I almost thought … No, it couldn’t be. It was all my imagination.

  ‘Did he show you the marula tree?’ she asked after a while.

  ‘No, not yet.’

  ‘You have to, André,’ she said. ‘It is my favourite. It has this delicious tasting fruit. About the size of plums. Animals love it too. Monkeys, kudu, duiker, impala. Even the elephants. You can make jelly, jam and even beer from the fruit.’

  ‘But,’ interrupted André, ‘there’s something else she’s dying to tell you about this tree.’

  Simoshile gave André a shove. ‘Go play with the lions!’

  André laughed. ‘Go ahead and tell him, Simoshile!’

  ‘No, I’m not going to. Not now.’ She suddenly appeared shy.

  ‘Then I shall.’

  ‘Do it then.’

  ‘What is it?’ I asked.

  André playfully placed his hands under his chin, fluttered his eyes and said in a girlish voice, ‘The Zulu people call the marula tree the marriage tree. Isn’t that sweet?’

  ‘You’re just being silly now,’ said Simoshile turning her head away.

  ‘The marriage tree? Why?’ I asked.

  ‘The tree symbolizes fertility –’

  ‘André! Stop!’ cried Simoshile.

  ‘– tenderness and early maturity …’

  I almost choked. So that’s why Simoshile didn’t want to continue with her story.

  André seemed to enjoy angering Simoshile. ‘They use a brew of the bark in a cleansing ritual before marriage.’

  ‘I’m not talking to you anymore,’ snapped Simoshile.

  ‘Yes, you are!’

  ‘No, I’m not. I should never have come along with you. You’re such a … such a …’

  ‘… handsome bloke!’ cried André. ‘Oh, no, sorry. I forgot we’re talking about me now, and not Buyi!’

  I almost bit my tongue. What was this? Did Simoshile think I’m handsome?

  She walked on ahead, arms crossed over her chest.

  ‘Now you did it,’ I whispered to André. Then: ‘Did she really say I’m handsome?’

  He nodded. ‘You’d better hope we don’t come across any marula trees on the way, Buyi, or you might just find yourself a married man before the sun sets today!’

  If I weren’t black, I would have blushed.

  After an hour’s walk we finally reached the watering hole. It was about half the size of a soccer field. And seemingly a deep dam of water. There was a high embankment on one side with lots of trees. The other side was cleared of all trees and plants. The sun reflected sharply on the yel
low sand.

  ‘This is just one of the watering holes in the resort. Animals usually gather here in the afternoon. See, there’s a look-out point.’ André indicated a wooden structure very much like a tower. It had an enclosed platform on top where you could sit and watch the animals. There were, however, no animals in sight now, only some wild ducks and other water birds.

  ‘Are you still wondering about that foefieslide?’ he asked. ‘Let me show you.’ Simoshile trailed behind us now. I think she had lost all interest in this adventurous expedition of ours.

  I followed André to a tall tree, planted firmly on the raised embankment.

  ‘There …’ he said, pointing up at the branches. I saw a cable tied to a thick branch and running all the way across the watering hole to the other side. A pulley attached to a handle bar was fixed to the cable.

  ‘A zip line!’ I said. ‘That’s what we call it.’

  ‘Great isn’t it? Ever been on one?’

  ‘No never. I’ve only seen it on TV. Is it safe?’

  ‘Of course. You want to try it?’

  We steadily made our way up the tree. I was getting good at this. Before long we were up there amongst the branches, looking down at the ground. It hadn’t even crossed my mind that there might be snakes in the tree.

  ‘Do you want to go first?’ André asked.

  ‘Um … I think you’d better go,’ I said hesitantly. ‘I’ll watch.’

  ‘Okay then.’ André gripped the handle bar firmly. He inhaled deeply.

  ‘Wait!’ I cried. ‘Aren’t you going to put on a helmet or something? Or a safety strap?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘It’s a long drop, isn’t it? What if you fall?’

  ‘Then you kind of crash into the water and hope the crocodiles have eaten already.’

  ‘What? Are there crocodiles in the water?’

  ‘No, Buyi, I’m just messing with you. Relax.’

  Easy for you to say, I thought.

  ‘Ready? Here I go-o-o!’

  I watched André soar across the water, hanging on by only his hands. His body flying out behind him.

  ‘Yo-hee-ee!’ he cried.

  Reaching the other side, he swung his legs forward, his feet touching the water momentarily, and then the sand. He ran the last few paces, stopping just short of the anchor pole.

  My heart started racing as I watched André unclipping the pulley. He made his way around the watering hole, running past Simoshile, who was sitting on the embankment and twining together lengths of grass.

  She ignored him totally.

  André climbed back up the tree. I felt the tension rising in me.

  ‘There you go!’ said André, handing me the pulley bar. He showed me how to fix it to the cable, and patted me on the back. ‘All yours, Englishman!’

  This was the moment. I breathed deeply. I tried not to look down. My hands were already sweaty. I wiped them on the back of my trousers.

  Small bubbles appeared on the surface of the water. I barely noticed. My eyes were fixed on the cable. Measuring the distance. Don’t be a such a coward, I told myself.

  Then!

  I leaped from the tree. Instantly my weight bore down on my hands, my fingers. The wind rushed past my face, my body flying back.

  It was great! Just like soaring through the sky … I could breathe again.

  Then it happened! A sudden cry: ‘Watch out! Hippos!’

  My moment of euphoria was gone in an instant. The small bubbles I had seen earlier grew bigger. Waves appeared. Then a head almost the size of a kitchen table. Dark brown.

  They kill more people in Africa than any other animal, André’s words returned to me.

  I was caught up in an instant panic. My hands sweating. How far still? Far enough.

  Damn that André! Why hadn’t he told me there were hippos? And that joke he made about the crocodiles … For all I knew he was lying about that too!

  I felt my hands slipping.

  Another hippo appeared, gazing up at me. It opened its mouth. Never before had the colour pink seem so threatening. The bulky teeth. White and strong.

  I’m not going to make it. The embankment was still too far off. It seemed like the ride would never end. Why was André’s over so fast? Oh yeah, there weren’t any hippos waiting to swallow him down in one gulp.

  ‘Hang on,’ I said to myself, trying to muster up some courage. ‘You can do this. Just hang on.’

  I heard the splashing hippos. Gloump!

  One of them disappeared momentarily. It reappeared within a heartbeat.

  ‘Buyisiwe!’ Simoshile cried out again.

  André’s voice too came rolling across the water. ‘Just stay calm. It will be all right. They’re just nosy. They won’t hurt you.’

  The other side of the embankment was only a few feet away now. My feet nearing the surface of the water as the cable slanted downwards. I raised my knees up to my chest, trying to keep my feet dry. Out of reach of any hippos or crocs or other man-eating animals.

  Nearly there, nearly there …

  Soft sand below my feet. At last! I’ve never been so pleased to touch ground. I ran the last few steps on the sand but still holding on to the pulley car, like André had. In those last moments my hands slipped and I fell forward, sending up a spray of sand.

  Instantly I scrambled back to my feet. Hippos are land animals too. And they are fast as lightning. I didn’t look back. The lookout point was close by. I kept my eyes fixed on it. Praying that I would reach it before any hippo caught up with me.

  Grass rustled behind me.

  No!

  Don’t look back!

  Run!

  My legs felt weak, but somehow I found the strength to carry me further.

  I reached the lookout tower not a minute too soon. I knew for certain there was something behind me. I could see it from the corner of my eye.

  I grabbed the ladder. A splinter tore into my hand, but I didn’t care. I hurried up the rungs. Breathlessly.

  The thing was still behind me. Could hippos climb ladders?

  I felt it touch my ankle. Kicked back.

  Laughter.

  Silly laughter. It was André. ‘Jeez, Englishman. I didn’t think you had it in you. Sprinting like that. If I didn’t know any better I would have sworn there was a wild animal on your tail!’

  CHAPTER 16

  ‘Stop laughing, would you!’ I said as we made our way back home. André and Simoshile burst out in fits of laughter every now and again, the feud between the two of them forgotten.

  ‘Sorry, Buyi, I can’t help it,’ said Simoshile, clutching her stomach.

  ‘You should have seen yourself,’ said André.

  ‘Arms and legs flailing,’ cried Simoshile.

  ‘You looked like one of those people in horror movies. Wha-a-a-a!’ André gave his impression of my hippo getaway. ‘Wha-a-a-a!’

  ‘I didn’t scream,’ I said, trying to defend myself.

  ‘Yes you did!’ they cried with laughter.

  ‘Well, I don’t think so. Anyway, I was scared, okay? You would have been too.’

  ‘Those hippos were probably just amazed when they saw a flying Englishman above their watering hole. That’s why they didn’t make a move.’

  ‘One of them actually opened its mouth just as I was passing overhead,’ I said. Why couldn’t they see the danger I was in?

  ‘The hippo was probably laughing too,’ said André. ‘I can just imagine what the view from the bottom must have been like if the view from the side was so funny!’

  ‘If you knew about the hippos, why did you let me foef … whatever over them?’

  Simoshile answered, ‘It isn’t their usual spot. They prefer another watering hole a distance away. I was actually surprised to see them there.’

  ‘And that’s why you screamed?’

  ‘I had to warn you.’

  ‘There you are then! You knew I was in danger. And you too, André. Or else you wouldn’t have come spri
nting round the watering hole. You knew I might be in trouble!’

  ‘I came running to make sure you …’

  ‘I what?’ I challenged.

  ‘You know … that you didn’t fall on your butt trying to get off the foefieslide.’

  ‘That lie far exceeds the size of a hippo’s opened jaws,’ I smiled. André had a silly grin on his face. He shook his head. They both knew I’d been in quite a bit of danger, but making light of it somehow eased the tension.

  And now forever more I would be the butt of all hippo jokes.

  ‘Wha-a-a-a!’ cried André again, running up the road like a madman. I caught Simoshile’s eye. She smiled at me. Something inside me felt strange, so I quickly looked away.

  André had meanwhile stopped his charade. He stood there in the middle of the dusty road. His head tilted to the side. ‘Shush!’ he whispered.

  We all listened. Suddenly they both looked around wildly. André’s face turned pale.

  Oemfff … Oemfff …

  ‘Lion!’ whispered Simoshile.

  ‘Is it him?’ I whispered back. ‘The one who …’

  ‘Don’t know,’ said André, his eyes wide. ‘But I don’t think I want to find out … Run!’

  It was like a gunshot had gone off indicating the start of a race. A race to live. The dust billowed in fear-filled yellow clouds beneath our feet. The road stretched out ahead of us.

  Oemfff … Oemfff …

  ‘Where is it?’ I panted.

  ‘Don’t know. Just keep going,’ whispered André.

  I couldn’t even determine the direction of the sound. The lion could have been anywhere. That scared me.

  Were André and Simoshile playing a trick on me again? I had never heard a lion roar before that day. In fact, the closest I’d ever come to a lion was the statues in Trafalgar Square.

  I could hear my own breath coming hard, burning in my chest. André and Simoshile were heaving too. This was no joke. For the second time in one day I was running away from a wild animal. Scared out of my wits.

  I don’t know how far we ran, or for how long, before André eventually said, ‘Come on you guys, not much … further now.’ His voice almost disappeared under his breath. He turned his head again. Listening. I did too. I couldn’t hear the lion anymore. That didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

 

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