She had watched him the previous day, as he had approached the new cubs. His playful cuffs and bites had nearly cost one its life. There was a new vigour to his actions that made her feel unsettled. Although she had birthed offspring herself, they never survived more than a few days. But she felt a protective bond nevertheless towards the cubs of the other females. They mated with lone males they encountered or those that came in to try and take over the pride. None lasted long. She found it difficult to tolerate their presence, as if they were alien to her; and she was never able to submit to their rule. Her size and strength gave her an advantage over them as it was, and more than anything, it was her maternal instinct that made her drive off the males. In the past their adolescent curiosity and rough housing had resulted in death, for both them and the cubs.
Young males were usually evicted from the pride at the first signs of their transgression into adulthood. She had tolerated this male for a little longer. He hunted well and had succumbed to her leadership, at least until now. She paused as she crossed a trail, looking back over her shoulder. She couldn’t see him but knew he was close. She hunkered down onto her haunches and waited for his approach.
~
Thomas helped himself to the pile of sticky brown sausages in the serving dish Mansa brought to the table. He added them to his already brimming plate of scrambled eggs, slices of deep fried sweet potato and crispy bacon.
“I guess that’s one way to get your strength back,” Jericho commented as he joined him. “I’ve spoken to Nairobi on the radio. Apparently, that leopard has been on some ranger’s to do list for the past year. You’re in their good graces.”
“I should bloody well hope so,” Thomas growled, shovelling another mouthful. He felt a little sour that both the leopard and the villagers had, in effect, been let down by the authorities.
“When you’ve finished your meal sire, we have some company,” Jericho nodded towards the trail at the camp entrance.
A crowd of villagers were gathered there, some carrying baskets of vegetables and fruit, while others had game birds hung from broad poles balanced on their shoulders. One was pulling a goat along on a short rope. Thomas stood up as he finished his mouthful and began to walk over. He knew that it would be considered a great insult to refuse the gifts, and Mansa would be more than happy with the additions to the stores. This morning there had been a feast in the village to celebrate the passing of the headman’s daughter, something akin to a wedding breakfast. These gifts to the killer of the leopard were part of the festivities. The villagers saw it as the lifting of a curse and the exorcising of a demon.
Thomas looked over the crowd but failed to spot Musa, the boy who had come to them for help. The funeral for the headman’s daughter had taken place almost as soon as they had returned to the village, her remains burnt on a hastily constructed pyre. Thomas was sure the boy had not been there either. As he shook hands and embraced the men and boys who collectively greeted him, he was distracted by Musa’s continued absence.
~
The young adolescent male padded up to her from behind. He paused a few feet from her, rolling back his lips and exposing his fangs in a half-snarl as he took in her scent. She growled a warning, but did not move or change position. Her muscles were hard and coiled in readiness though. He straddled her, quickly taking her neck in his jaws to limit her movement. She allowed him to do so, still rumbling her warnings with low, penetrating growls. A jolt of pain rippled down her back as he began to mate with her. She tried to shake off the clamp of his jaws, but stopped when he increased the pressure on her neck. She tried to turn and bat the male away with her paw, but could not reach. As the pain became unbearable, she bellowed an incredible roar and threw the male off with a shake of her shoulders. She spun at him, striking a dizzying blow with her paw that left the male stunned and bloody. He didn’t wait around to attempt a second mating, and instead dashed off into the brush. She knew where he was headed and quickly followed.
~
Thomas caught the sound of the roar even above the chanting and chatter of the crowd. He turned quickly towards Jericho. From his blank expression, Thomas could tell he hadn’t heard it. He tried to tune out the background noise, but it was no good. The roar had dissipated and reduced to nothing. He also knew that the sound could travel at least a few miles, perhaps even up to five. And it had only been at the edge of his hearing. It still put the lions close by.
He turned back to the crowd, homing in on a bare-chested man Jelani was talking to. From the brace of francolin he carried, and the homemade slingshot casually stuffed into his shorts, Thomas presumed he was a hunter. He made his way over to them.
“This is Badru,” announced Jelani as he introduced the man. “He tells me that the village has been cursed by Kanu Sultan’s demons and you are the only one to vanquish them so far. Even the wildlife service feared to come, but not you.”
“Have you seen Kanu Sultan?” Thomas asked.
“Yes, many times,” Badru answered in passable English. “He brings offerings to the families of the dead. He says they have died in battle, that if we help him he will give us more farmland. Land stolen by the government.”
“Do you mean the National Parks?” Thomas queried.
“Some,” acknowledged Badru.
“The chui was only one demon,” Thomas stated, changing tactic. “I am after the many.”
“You hunt the daughters of the darkness?” Badru asked hesitantly.
“I do,” Thomas nodded.
“They cannot be killed,” Badru shrugged “they are controlled by Kanu himself.”
Thomas knew that this wasn’t the time to argue. Badru would not be convinced until Thomas killed at least one of the animals. He also knew from Jelani’s email and his now wide-eyed expression that he too believed there was something supernatural about the pride.
“Having killed one demon, why would I not be able to kill more?” Thomas challenged.
“The chui was a test Bwana, Kanu wanted to see if you would stand up to him,” Badru sighed, as if bored with Thomas’s inability to understand the situation.
“Will you perhaps help me to find them at least?” Thomas asked.
Badru paused, his eyes flicking from Jelani and then back to Thomas. His gaze eventually settled on his feet.
“I will help you, because you tried to help Sanura,” he remarked. “I will show you where they were last night.”
“Thank you Badru,” Thomas nodded appreciatively. Sanura was the name of the little girl the leopard had killed. As he looked at the sorrowful expression on the hunter’s face, Thomas wondered if the hunter was in some way related. It was quite likely in a small village. “We won’t tell anyone that you helped us Badru,” Thomas reassured him. “I am curious though, the boy who came to us for help last night, Musa, where is he?”
Badru looked at Thomas curiously then let out a loud dismissive laugh.
“Musa is not of the village, he belongs to Kanu,” he explained with a smirk. “If he was the one to warn you of the chui, do you not now see that Kanu controls what he calls the critters of the bush?”
Thomas was a little shocked. He hadn’t contemplated that Musa had not come from the village. The fact that the boy had said so meant he had deliberately lied, and Kanu had indeed sent a spy into his camp. Jelani’s worried expression showed he was thinking the same.
“I think we’d best thank our guests and get on the trail Jelani,” Thomas suggested.
Jelani nodded and began to usher the gift-brandishing villagers towards the kitchen and stores.
~
The adolescent male tore into the clearing, his rage fuelled by the deep, painful slashes to his snout. The heat and humidity made them sting and ooze. He let out a menacing snarl as he barrelled towards the three closest lionesses, but he changed direction as they stood up together in readiness to intercept him. Ahead, he spotted a lone lioness carefully herding her three cubs into the long grass. Instinct took over as he thun
dered towards them, his mind set on death and mating again. The lioness roared back savagely at his approach, but hesitated, lacking the strength to fight him off without help. She braced for the spring and positioned herself between the charging male and the cubs.
The blow came without warning. The male was knocked tumbling and scrabbling into the dust. Before he could regain his feet, she attacked again. She pinned the male down with the natural weight of her front paws, extending the scythe-like claws into his flesh and drowning out his roars with her own. She slashed away at his flank with rakes of her hind feet and the extended, hooked talons on each toe. As she subdued the male with her weight, the thin ridge of greyish black hair along her spine rippled with pent up energy. She opened her mouth wide as she buried her fangs into his throat, picking him up off the floor and dragging him away. She spun, using the momentum to throw the male several feet and onto his back. Before he had time to recover, she sprang onto his back and sank her teeth through the top of his skull.
She paced back and forth, watching the male for any sign of life, growling and snarling with each pass. Eventually satisfied, she looked around at the lionesses surrounding her. Most were on their feet, looking back at her. As one of the cubs bounded up and stood between her legs, she lowered her head to lick it and purred a greeting. She issued a few grunts as she walked off, the others falling in behind her in silent procession.
~
Thomas walked along the trail with Jelani and Badru up ahead of him. He knew Jelani would be trying to glean as much information from the hunter as possible, something he might not be as able to do as a foreigner. They hadn’t walked far out of camp before Badru had directed them onto a game trail that led south-east. They soon found the pugmarks of several lions lacing the red dust. The pride was moving slowly, their close-together and splayed tracks belying the casual pace as they walked along.
A little further on, Badru came to a stop and waited for Thomas to reach them.
“They rested in the thicket there,” he pointed up the trail.
“Thank you for your help Badru,” Thomas replied.
Badru turned and nodded silently before loping back off in the opposite direction. Thomas could tell from his expression that he thought their investigation was a pointless one. As he noticed Jelani’s nervous glance, Thomas stepped forward and took the lead. As a precaution, he slipped his rifle from his shoulder and clipped a five-cartridge magazine into the receiver underneath. He chambered a round with a quick snap of the bolt, noticing Jelani had brought up his shotgun too. They cautiously made their way into the thicket.
Thomas was relieved to hear the chatter of weaver birds and the buzz of insects as they made their way through. The pugmarks were harder to follow here, and it was soon clear the lions had split up and taken several different routes through the maze of thorns and thickly entwined branches.
“Stay close,” Thomas indicated, as he and Jelani skirted round the broad trunk of an acacia in opposite directions.
“Don’t worry,” Jelani replied nervously, but with a smile.
Thomas read the ground like a map, stooping as low as he dared as he followed the change in pace and direction of the lions. He was confident he was on the trail of a group of three females, indicated by their relative small size and rounded toes.
“They have cubs,” Jelani called out from somewhere to his right.
Thomas wondered how old they were. If they had already become accustomed to human flesh, then they were as much a danger as their parents.
“How old?” Thomas yelled back.
“Not yet weaned,” Jelani replied.
Thomas sighed with relief, pleased that there might still be hope to turn the behaviour of the pride back towards natural prey. He knew that would still mean culling the ones teaching man-eating to the others. And for that to happen, he would have to assess and identify them at close quarters. The handing down of the man-eating trait to other generations, as well as the sheer numbers of the pride, meant relocation was pointless. But he was still determined only the killers would be killed. The rest of the pride could be rehabilitated and protected, of that he was certain. He was just as determined to show that there was nothing supernatural about their behaviour.
He caught sight of Jelani again as he rounded the acacia and stepped into a small clearing. He noticed the tracks clumped together as he glanced back down at the ground. The tracks Jelani was following brought him round towards Thomas again, where they rendezvoused. It was clear the animals had regrouped and come to a halt in the small clearing. They looked around, wondering what might have caught their attention. All of the pugmarks seemed to face east, and as Thomas looked into the distance in that direction, he noticed the clearing was overlooked by a small hill with a single baobab tree, silhouetted against the sun at its crescent shaped top. Thomas wondered if something up there had caught their attention, as there seemed little else to look at in the bleak surroundings.
Silently they continued along the trail until Thomas picked up the spoor of a male. Judging by the size of the pugmarks, he suspected it was a young, adolescent animal. As Jelani went to take another step, Thomas slapped a hand on his chest to hold him back, making him look up. The cloudless blue sky was strung with the black outlines of gathering vultures, as they circled closer in a slow and cautious descent. Thomas and Jelani stepped forward together, their guns trained on the narrow path ahead.
When they stepped out into another clearing, the warranting of the vultures became immediately apparent. The torn and broken body of a young male lion was strewn across a bloody stretch of gore soaked earth. Thomas felt a great swell of pity as he noticed the short and barely formed mane of the animal and the pale colour of its pelt, almost white rather than the typical golden tawny hue. It had been suggested that the lack of a mane and the unusual colouration were genetic adaptations that helped the Tsavo lions cope with the more arid conditions they lived in, but no one was sure. Thomas examined the wounds on the lion’s skull, impressed at the suggested size and skill of the killer.
He paused over the imprinted pugmarks left in the dust in front of the male’s body. He recognised them as belonging to the same animal that had stolen the francolin he had shot a few days earlier. He noticed the same narrow, elongated toe pads and overtly large size that had surprised him before. He looked up at Jelani, as if for an explanation.
“In Tsavo there is no king, only a queen,” Jelani offered.
Thomas nodded silently.
“All that’s missing is the stone table,” Thomas replied with a half-felt smile, as he looked over the male’s broken body again. “Fancy a walk to the top of that hill to see what got their attention back there?”
“The trail is cold here,” Jelani replied. “They have moved into the rocks anyway.”
Leaving the body of the dead lion for the vultures, they headed back along the trail to the clearing where they could see the hill. They scrambled up through the scrub until they reached its top, building up a sweat as they did so. There, under the shade of the baobab, they found nothing out of the ordinary except a glorious view of the surrounding hillside. Then Thomas knelt and peered closer at the sticky dust covering the ground. He spread both of his hands out over the two enormous sets of tracks. Two large lions, definitely males this time, had stood side by side and looked down - perhaps at the gathered pride below.
“This is the eastern border of the pride’s territory,” explained Jelani. “I’ve never known them to venture beyond here. Perhaps this explains why, and that dead male down there.”
“No,” Thomas said. “I’m pretty sure your queen got him. But maybe she was making room for someone else.”
He stood up, gazing out across the vista.
“Either way,” he added, wiping the sweat from his brow and taking off his hat, “there are some new kids on the block, and we don’t know if they’re friend or foe.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
The following morning, Catherine found Thom
as sitting alone at the dining table on the kopje, staring at a map of the area. As she walked up behind him, sliding her arms over his shoulders and down onto his chest, she caught the smell of the rich, hot coffee in the enamel cup beside him. He reached up with his right hand to stroke her forearm, but didn’t look up.
“I’m surprised to find you out here without Jericho and a beer in your hand,” she whispered, planting a kiss on his cheek as she twisted onto his lap. She glanced down at the map too.
Thomas smiled, sitting back a little to accommodate her, as his left hand scooped around her waist to support her.
“No Jericho today,” Thomas informed her. “He’s been called away to a village in the north, where there’s been a report of some elephant poachers. Apparently, they’re the same ones he missed in Tanzania, or at least he thinks so.”
“You guys are doing an awful lot of work on the wildlife service’s behalf don’t you think?” Catherine exclaimed.
“You heard them back in Nairobi, they’ve more than got their hands full at the moment,” Thomas replied.
“They’re using you, and hiding behind all this superstitious nonsense to do so. And I think you know it too,” she scolded, nudging him in the ribs.
“Look, I’ve got to ask, is that’s what’s got you so worked up?” Thomas probed, softly. “It’s just you seem to be distant one day, on fire the next, and clingy the day after that, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“I do mind you saying so,” she glowered at him. “But it might have something to do with not really feeling very involved with what you’re doing. I’m a wildlife biologist, but I feel like I’m just tagging along. Give me something to do. Maybe I won’t be so clingy,” she snapped.
The Daughters of the Darkness Page 12
