Excerpt: First Pride

First Pride

Chapter 1 -

Stay low. Don’t move. Don’t breathe. Stay low. Don’t move. Don’t breathe.
Well, breathe, but breathe lightly. And, be still, keep quiet. Stay low.

Kita recalls these lessons every time she hunts, lessons that have kept her stomach full. The only part of her body that moves is the end of her tail. The bushy nub twitches in anticipation.

A quarter mile away and upwind from her, a herd of antelope grazes peacefully next to what used to be a stream, now dry from the long drought. Yet, if any of them knew about Kita’s location and her current mood, their heads would be high and watchful. In fact, they would be wise to ‘pull up stakes’ and high tail it out of there.

Instead, most have their noses buried into what grass has survived the never-ending summer.

A few of the older members stand guard, watching for predators. They take turns at eating, but their hunger is great. Consequently, the lure of sweet grass becomes too much and more times than not, all heads are buried into the rare, verdant green.

The drought is in full force and has been for over a year. What was once the most fertile part of the vast African landscape is now mostly dead or dying.

A few of the older antelope head into the dry stream bed to paw at the dirt. Their ministrations create small, boiling clouds of dust as the animals search for water.

In the distance, a parade of deinotheriums makes their way towards the same creek in hopes of doing likewise. Their massive trunks swing in rhythm to their lumbering walk and the collected footfall from the twenty odd numbers of beasts sounds more like distant thunder.

The antelope work faster.

With the air shimmering under the relentless and merciless sun, it creates mirages of wetlands that stretch out along the far horizon. Yet, it tempts no animal, since mirages carry no scent of water.

Flying high above, flocks of birds follow the westerly sun. When they reach Kita’s position overhead, she flattens herself deeper into the dry yellowing stand, an ideal cover for the tawny hued feline, but not perfect. The birds are sharp-eyed and if they caught sight of her, they would sound an alarm.

But, they pass overhead, giving the lioness no notice, and continue without calling warning. The big cat relaxes to reassess the antelopes’ alertness again.

Belly to the ground, Kita lies stone still and as stationary as the mountains surrounding the large expansive plain. Her eyes are as hard on the herd. She focuses keenly on one limping calf. She tagged it two sunrises ago and would have fed upon it by now, had its mother and a few of the other adults not intervened. Their bold aggressive reaction had forced Kita to retreat, though only far enough to give the illusion that she has left the area. Since then, the lioness has been following the herd and the injured calf, as they graze across the mostly flat valley of the Serengeti.

Kita can tell by the youngling’s awkward gait that it will not be long before it cannot keep up with the herd. Right now, its clan had stopped to feed, giving the calf a chance to rest up. In the past several hours, though, it has weakened considerably. The calf stays close to its mother, though it is not a new-ling.

Kita’s stomach growls with her own hunger. Her tongue flicks hungrily and spittle sprays the ground. She has not eaten in almost a month.

Kita knows the mother will not abandon her baby, though, not yet, not until it proves to be more dangerous for her to do so. After all, the law of the wild is self-preservation.

Kita knows it well.

As she slowly looks around, the lioness is certain that other predators might be lurking about. She has had enough experience in making a kill only to have that kill taken from her by a much larger predator. There are not many larger than she is, other than the males of her species, but in mass, even smaller predators have worried her away from her prize.

Nevertheless, Kita knows that once she makes the kill, she will have to hide it and eat quickly, for the scent of blood will bring many scavengers.

So far, the only other movement is the rise and fall of the same blackbirds that flew over a moment ago. They have settled in an area just west of her, flitting from scrub, to acacia, to scrub again in search of juicy insects. They seem to be concentrating in a specific area, but Kita still has to be careful. If they begin migrating back to where she is and they see her, they will scatter in a noisy throng of warning.

Kita hugs the ground harder, keeping her head low. Her tail stops twitching.

One buck turns away from Kita’s position. His harem follows.

Kita flattens her ears, worried that even with her low profile she may have already given herself away.

She is heartened when three bucks and their respective harems remain behind, apparently uninterested in the other male’s decision. They continue feeding.

Suddenly, one male snaps his head up. The other two do likewise, and then a few of the females follow suit. The rest continue eating, but for those who have stopped, they stand alert, staring away from Kita’s left, towards the blackbirds, nostrils flared, and their tails swishing in nervous anticipation. . A breeze picks up from the herd, causing the grass to undulate like water. It brings with it the delicious scent of prey.

Then, the wind suddenly changes directions to cross in front of Kita’s face. She looks at the antelope. Her instinct tells her that something has changed. The herd of antelope senses it too. All have their heads up, now, their ears alert, and tails flagged.

That is when she smells it.

Another predator has entered her territory.

Kita growls unhappily. She stares at the blackbirds again, waiting for their alarm.

Instead, the birds continue their happy chatter and feeding.

The lioness waits, knowing something is there.

The breeze abruptly calms and after a long fretful moment, the male antelopes finally relax. One stomps the ground in vented frustration, though, before dipping his heads to the grass to eat. The rest of the herd follows his example.

Kita stares at the blackbirds. She waits. She knows from experience that they will soon sound the alarm. She can sense that something is coming. It is something big.

The something big has followed Kita while she has followed the herd. Her hunger was too great to give it much attention, though, but now Kita’s attention is no longer on her prey, but on defending her territory.

Just as she turns away from the herd, the antelope finally sense the same interloper.

Then, the blackbirds sound the alarm. They fly off as one, flying so close together that they blacken that part of the sky. They gain altitude, as they hurry straight overhead of Kita’s position. They carry on noisily, soaring higher into the sky towards the horizon, eventually overtaking the approaching deinotheriums.

The hunt for water and the need to graze no longer matters. The herd erupts into instant flight, following the blackbirds and in the direction of the advancing deinotheriums. They quickly bridge the gap between the slow-moving animals and scatter around them. The lumbering behemoths only raise their trunks and flap their ears at the billowing clouds of dust that the antelopes' hasty retreat created. They do not slow, not yet, they soon will, once they realize why the antelope have fled.

Kita hardly notices as she slinks through the grass towards the acacia trees where the blackbirds had feasted. Her tail twitches angrily and her hackles bristle. Soon, a dangerous growl rumbles in her throat.

This is her territory and, short of dying, she will defend it.