Relentless Enemies Page #6

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gathering of buffalo.

It builds to a battle

reminiscent of an ancient duel

between titanic forces of nature

where winner takes all.

A large buffalo bull, the biggest of the big,

or else injury or possible death

that might finally send

the Tsaro pride into decline.

The partially crippled male

is seen as weakened by a rival bull

and mated as a show of dominance.

And then, at the height of the battle,

one lioness turns back

in the direction of the cubs.

The others don't notice.

They are caught up in their struggle

to outsmart the buffalo.

They have no time to look back.

Quite suddenly, the lioness reappears.

It is the mother with her two cubs.

She couldn't take the chance

of leaving them alone in this confusion,

but now this hunt has turned into

an ideal lesson for the cubs.

These little hunters' eyes take it all in

and see their very first hunt.

They will learn about buffalo

and the smell of blood

when the air fills with that magic.

The moment when lions suddenly slip

into a coordinated attack,

and the hunt begins.

But it must be a terrifying time,

when monsters turn and confront you

and their giant shadows send

chills down your spine,

making you question

the invincibility of your mother.

It is a dream.

It is a nightmare.

It is all things for them,

as this experience overpowers them.

It is the ultimate lesson

of where death fits into life,

and how it is a part of life

and not just the end of it.

It is a vivid display of determination,

of clutching on to life, this life,

against overwhelming forces.

And the old bull turns

to confront his enemies.

The cubs stare into his eyes.

It is a look of foreboding warning.

And the buffalo front rank

rallies again and again,

wearing down the lions,

circling them and chasing them to ground.

And it is a riveting lesson of fortitude

and comradeship in the face of death,

and finally the dignity of being able to turn

and confront your tormentors head on.

And while they stay just out of harm's way,

they see an even more

confusing development.

From an unexpected quarter, the rival bull

steps out and attacks his own,

driving home his aggression and dominance,

upending his old adversary, and with that,

tipping the scales of victory

in favor of the lions.

It is an unanticipated advantage

that the lions quickly move in on.

And it is over.

The Tsaro pride are back.

Their first meat meal seems to hold

as much attraction as their mother's milk.

Their curiosity only tempered

by the fear of being mauled

within the confusion and aggression

that makes lions unique

in cooperating on the hunt

and yet fiercely competitive as they feed.

In the past few days, the cubs have met

the rest of the pride for the first time,

seen their first hunt, and are experiencing

their first violent introduction to lion life.

And in this magical world,

hidden by the delicate mists of time,

there are questions to be asked.

Will all this be here tomorrow

when we wake?

Or will they have disappeared like ghosts,

nothing but a dream remembered?

Huge lions specializing in one prey,

adapting and breeding in isolation

on an island in a river that goes nowhere.

Given time, could this lead

to the slow and continuous evolution

of a distinct race or even species of lion?

An island swamp cat, more precious

and rare than we can imagine.

And, of course, vulnerable to the whims

of our own carelessness.

The silent swish of grass

against their faces doesn't distract them.

The amber coats and thick cushions

on their feet are meaningless

as forms of concealment for these lions.

They no longer need that.

These are the cats of this marshy wilderness,

stalkers, followers, and confronters.

All relentless hunters of the buffalo,

masters of their craft.

As they gather on

this ancestral playing field,

they dance a dance that is unique

to this place and this time.

And yet, it is forever.

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