Pride of the Plains

PRIDE
OF THE
PLAINS

BOOKS IN THE LIONS OF LINGMERE SERIES

Journey to Freedom

Lion Country

Pride of the Plains

Colin Dann

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Version 1.0

Epub ISBN 9781446403761

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A Red Fox Book

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Copyright © Colin Dann 2002

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First published in Great Britain by Red Fox 2002

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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

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.

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.