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Pride of the Plains
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PRIDE OF THE PLAINS
BOOKS IN THE LIONS OF LINGMERE SERIES
Journey to Freedom
Lion Country
Pride of the Plains
PRIDE OF THE PLAINS
Colin Dann
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Version 1.0
Epub ISBN 9781446403761
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A Red Fox Book
Published by Random House Children’s Books
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Copyright © Colin Dann 2002
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First published in Great Britain by Red Fox 2002
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
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ISBN 0 09 941126 1
Contents
Preface
1 Moja
2 Hostage
3 Uneasy Companions
4 Battleground
5 Joel
6 Mother and Calf
7 The Sisters
8 Great News
9 A Rescue
10 ‘A Brave Little Lion’
11 Flies
12 Tyranny
13 ‘The Start of Something’
14 Purification
For Susie
Preface
The sister lionesses, Huru and Kimya, had adapted well to life in the African game park since their release from the animal refuge centre at Kamenza. It was the life they had been intended to lead and was far removed from their upbringing in an English zoo. Their journey from there to Africa was now only a faint memory for them. They had mated with resident lions in the game park and six cubs had been born, three to Huru and three to Kimya. So, together with the four adults, the pride numbered ten animals.
During the wet season the pride had moved on to the plains to take advantage of the abundant prey there. A while later the pride’s eldest cub, a male called Moja, had disappeared after being attacked and tossed by a grieving mother elephant. Huru and Kimya searched for him in vain. They didn’t know what had happened to him; not even if he was alive or dead.
—1—
Moja
In fact Moja was very much alive. His sturdy frame and thick furry coat had broken his fall. Though bruised and shocked by the elephant’s sudden attack, the lion cub scrambled hastily to his feet amongst the soft, tall grass-stems where he had landed with a thump. He hardly knew where he was, but he did know that he was very frightened and must get away from that place as fast as he possibly could. He imagined the thunderous tread of the elephant coming towards him again and he fled, bounding blindly through the thick growth that reached way above his head. He didn’t stop running until his panic subsided. Then, as he slowed, he tripped over a root and pitched into a whistling-thorn bush, badly scratching his scalp and one ear. Moja felt very sorry for himself. He didn’t stir for a while, not wanting to risk more prickles scraping his skin. But eventually, wide-eyed, he peered through the sharp thorns, hoping to catch a glimpse of some of his family.
There was not a sign of any of them. The landscape was blank and unfamiliar. Moja realised he was lost. At first he was not unduly worried. He was confident that his mother or one of the other adult lions would come looking for him, and it wouldn’t be long before he was found. But as time passed and he continued neither to see anyone from his pride, nor even to recognise a sound or a call, he became more and more fretful.
His mother, Huru, was worried. She turned to her sister as they lay with their other cubs around them. ‘Did we really look everywhere we could? Did we go far enough?’ she asked. ‘How is it we didn’t catch Moja’s scent anywhere or hear his cries?’
Kimya narrowed her eyes as she looked towards the sinking sun on the horizon. A light breeze blew across the plains, refreshing the evening air. ‘We should face the fact that Moja has probably been killed,’ she said as gently as she could. ‘I hope he survived, but the longer he’s missing the more likely it is that he hasn’t.’
‘I still believe he has,’ Huru answered quickly, almost before Kimya had finished. She was trying to reassure herself. ‘I shan’t give up on him yet. And if I can’t find him, perhaps Moja will find us.’
Kimya said nothing. She was not optimistic.
‘He’s a brave little male. He resembles his father,’ Huru went on quietly, as though talking to herself. ‘He’ll be trying even if he’s afraid, I know he will.’
Towards dusk, as the sky began to darken, Moja longed to call – to tell his family where he was, that he was lost, that he needed them – but he had the sense to remain silent. He knew that ears other than those of his own pride could be listening. He tried to comfort himself by licking his coat. He wet his paws and wiped them across his face and ear where it smarted. That soothed him a little. Then at last he stirred from the thorn bush, his slightly spotted cub’s coat invisible in the darkness. Moja knew he couldn’t be seen, and he also knew he mustn’t be heard.
‘I have to get back to the others somehow,’ he told himself. ‘If only I knew where they were.’ He stood and tried to think of the best way to go. ‘Perhaps if I just run back to the place where the elephant dropped me? But … but which way is that? How can I tell in the dark?’ He sank down on to his haunches and gave way to a frightened whimper. The prospect before him was extremely daunting. ‘Oh, why didn’t they come?’ he wailed.
Then he remembered who he was: Moja, the son of Battlescars, the dominant male lion of the entire area. The cub stood erect and shook himself. His round face with its prominent ears took on a proud expression. ‘I must be worthy of my father,’ he told himself. ‘He wouldn’t be skulking here, too jittery to move.’ He took a few steps forward, then stopped to listen. There was no sound. He went on further, becoming bolder as time passed.
It was a dark night. The light wind had blown patches of cloud across the sky, screening moon and stars. Then all at once the clouds were gone and a full moon was exposed, its gleam flooding the plains. Shapes and shadows that had been hidden before were suddenly revealed. Now Moja saw that he was not alone as he had thought. Dark figures moved across the landscape; some distant, some closer. The cub paused and looked about him. He could see no familiar lion shapes. He did see zebra grouped together, tossing their heads and flicking their tails as they fed. He saw a giraffe get abruptly to its feet and stretch upwards to reach its favourite foliage on an old acacia. Then a sharp cry behind him made him spin round to search for the cause. A small animal had been caught by a predator, Moja realised, but he could locate neither creature. He trotted forward again, more nervously now, wondering all the while if he was nearing
his pride or moving further away from it. A score of different scents were in his nostrils: warm animal smells, perfumes from flowering shrubs, musty odours of dead leaves, twigs and dust. All at once Moja realised he was hungry. He began to take notice of some of the smaller creatures whose own quests for food took them scurrying over the ground. Insects and spiders of all kinds were always plentiful but Moja relished meat.
At the foot of a boulder which formed part of one of the kopjes dotting the plains he found the remains of a meal. Whose meal, Moja didn’t know or question. A few scraps of meat amongst the rejected entrails and skin of the abandoned prey were quickly nosed out and eaten by the cub. He bent over the other, more putrid remains, trying to decide if he was hungry enough to sample them.
Suddenly a voice which seemed to spring from nowhere cried, ‘Beggars can’t be choosers, can they?’
Startled, Moja glanced up, ready to run from the owner of the voice whose food he guessed he had been stealing. A young male lion was looking down at him from the top of the boulder where he had been all along, unknown to Moja. The cub relaxed slightly when he saw the animal was one of his own kind. But he didn’t recognise the lion and wasn’t sure how to react. ‘I – I was hungry,’ he explained awkwardly.
‘Evidently,’ replied the young adult. ‘Where’s the rest of your pride? You can’t be hunting alone?’
‘I don’t know where they are,’ Moja answered frankly. ‘I’m lost and I’m trying to find them.’
The young lion slipped from his resting-place. ‘I’ve been watching you,’ he said. ‘I think I’ve seen you before.’
Moja showed some surprise. ‘How could you?’ he asked without thinking. ‘I’ve never seen you.’
‘Huh! Maybe not. I’m always cautious.’ The older animal was amused by Moja’s naivety. ‘I don’t advertise my presence, you know. But I think you’re one of the cubs in the big dark-maned males’ territory.’
Moja didn’t reply. He wondered where this was leading to and if he was, after all, in danger.
The young adult continued. ‘Is your father the one with all the scars or is he the one with the blacker mane?’
Moja replied at once now, full of pride. ‘I’m Battlescars’s son. He’s my father.’
‘The two go together, don’t they?’ the lion mocked him. ‘Is your mother the beautiful lioness or the even more beautiful lioness?’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Moja said innocently. ‘Who are you?’
‘Call me Challenger.’
‘All right. Anyway, why do you want to know so much – er – Challenger?’
‘No reason. Just interest. And with an eye to the future,’ the older animal answered enigmatically. He began to prowl around the cub, eyeing him closely. ‘You shouldn’t be out here alone,’ he said. ‘It’s dangerous. And you’re already injured.’
Moja didn’t enjoy the close scrutiny but he stood his ground. ‘How do you know I was injured?’ he asked, thinking of the elephant.
‘You’re bleeding.’
‘Oh, that. I thought you meant—’ Moja stopped, unsure how much he ought to give away about himself.
‘Meant what?’ the lion prompted.
Moja explained reluctantly. ‘That’s how I got lost,’ he finished.
‘Well – you’re a lucky cub,’ Challenger declared. ‘I wonder you weren’t killed. And your luck’s still with you, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t know. Is it?’
‘Of course it is. Because you met me. And I can help you, little lion.’
‘I – I don’t see how,’ Moja said uncertainly. He wished he had never seen this strange adult who puzzled him and made him feel uneasy.
‘I’m going to look after you,’ Challenger told him sweetly, ‘while we look for your pride. You’re too young and vulnerable to do it alone.’
Moja blinked as he tried to decide if he trusted the older animal. There was something about him that didn’t inspire Moja’s confidence. And why would he want to bother with another family’s cub? On the other hand, if the offer was genuine Moja had more chance of being reunited quickly with his pride than if he continued to search alone.
‘I’m sure I know your mother,’ Challenger was saying persuasively. ‘Did she at one time have a slight limp?’
‘I don’t know,’ Moja answered. ‘I can’t remember.’
‘Of course. You’re very young.’ Challenger squatted and looked at the cub directly. ‘That’s why you must take shelter now while I begin the search.’
‘But—’
‘No “buts”,’ Challenger insisted. ‘We can’t go together now. We might miss each other in the dark. There’s a good deep hole behind my rock where you can hide. You’ll be quite safe in there. Are you still hungry?’
‘Yes. A little,’ Moja admitted.
‘Good. I’ll bring you back something in a little while. Something a bit fresher than those leavings you were sniffing at just now. Do you see that hole? You go in there now’ – he advanced on the cub who backed obediently – ‘and keep still and quiet, like your mother taught you, until I return.’
There was no arguing with this much larger animal who almost propelled Moja into the opening, forestalling any possible dissension by blocking the hole with his body. ‘Are you comfortable?’ he asked.
‘Y-yes,’ Moja answered in a small voice.
‘All right, then. You sit tight there. You don’t want to go wandering off whilst I’m away because then I’d have to come and rescue you again, wouldn’t I?’
This time Moja didn’t answer. It all sounded reasonable enough but for some reason the cub felt threatened, rather than comforted, by these words.
Challenger waited a moment longer, his eyes unwavering as they met Moja’s. Then he turned and ambled away. Moja breathed more freely, even as he realised that he was little more than a prisoner.
—2—
Hostage
Moja’s brother Mbili and sister Tatu, and his three cousins Nne, Tano and Sita, continually pestered their mothers about their missing sibling. Moja, the eldest of the cubs by a fraction, was their leader.
‘Why doesn’t he come back?’ Mbili asked Huru.
‘Won’t you look for him again?’ asked Tatu. ‘We miss him.’
‘Of course you do. And no more than I do myself,’ their mother replied. ‘We’ve searched for him everywhere. I really don’t know where else I can go. So I’ve asked your father to keep his eyes peeled when he’s on his travels. Don’t worry. I still feel we’ll have Moja back with us soon.’
Kimya gave much the same answer to her cubs when they asked, although she was far less sure about Moja’s reappearance. She told her mate, Battlescars’s brother Blackmane, that she feared the worst. ‘A lone cub couldn’t last long on the plains, could he?’ she reasoned. ‘Even if the elephant didn’t break every bone in his body.’
Blackmane sighed. ‘The longer he’s absent the more likely it is that he’s dead,’ he agreed. ‘But my brother and I may find him on our journey to the larger pride. And we need to go soon.’ He didn’t add ‘before the females wander too far off’ although that was the purpose of their journey. The brothers still controlled two prides; for several seasons they had been supreme and had met with little resistance. Now as they grew older Battlescars and Blackmane found life more difficult. They were fully stretched. New challenges to their authority appeared with wearying regularity and they were only just able to hold on to their own.
Huru and Kimya were as loyal to their mates as they were to each other. Theirs was a tightly knit pride. The larger pride to the north had begun to unravel. It was older and comprised adult lions of varying ages as well as cubs. Some of the young males were ready to leave while the newly mature females were beginning to show interest in suitors who came from outside their territory. Such changes were in the nature of things: prides broke up, old leaders were toppled. Some prides re-formed, other new ones were created.
Challenger, the young male lion, was
aware of all this and he had waited his chance. He knew it would come one day and now he thought he saw a way of making that day arrive. The sister lionesses Huru and Kimya were of special interest to him. On two previous occasions, with the help of his brothers, Challenger had aspired to overthrow the older males Battlescars and Blackmane. The trio had failed because of their youth and inexperience. Challenger’s brothers, less bold than he, had come off worst in these encounters and had moved elsewhere. But Challenger hadn’t given up and was as ambitious as ever. He kept his sights on the pride from a distance, patiently waiting for a time when the males made one of their periodic treks. Then he intended to steal in and claim one of the sisters for his own. He had the highest opinion of himself and his abilities and reckoned the lioness would need little persuasion to join him.
And now he had an added inducement for the mother lion to stray. He knew where her missing cub was and he alone could take her to him. Moja was the perfect lure. With the cub safely stowed in a place of concealment the young male moved confidently through the darkness towards Huru and Kimya’s territory. But he wasn’t careless. He had learnt to use the utmost caution whilst he kept the pride in view. He reached a favourite look-out point and waited for daylight.
When dawn broke Challenger was alert at once, scanning the immediate prospect for the group of lions he had watched so regularly. They were very close and he quickly flattened himself against his rocky perch. Battlescars and Blackmane were both present, stretching lazily while some of the cubs played around them. Challenger yawned and backed away. His plan could wait. He had all the time in the world.
As he turned to head for his own base he remembered his promise to bring meat to Moja. A fat green lizard was just emerging into the sunlight from a fissure in the rock. Challenger trapped it with one paw and snapped it up. Then he set off quietly on his return journey.