John Burkitt - The Leonid Saga

“Who says he told the eagle to take away his son! But if he had prayed to Aiheu and asked his help, he might not have had to wait six years.”

Misha bowed her head quickly. “Aiheu abamami! Aiheu provides!” She looked up sheepishly and said, “I don’t want to take any chances.”

Yolanda was trying to rest. She was at an age gracefully referred to as “looking westward,” and she needed more sleep than she once did when her carriage was straight, her stomach was firm and her step was lively.

“Oh good!” young Misha said, gamboling over and rubbing against her face. “You’re not busy.”

With a sigh, Yolanda rolled over. She managed a smile despite her aches and pains and reached out with a comforting paw to draw her granddaughter to her side and begin grooming her. “Something on your mind?”

“It’s not really important, but I was just wondering....”

“About what?” Yolanda began to groom behind Misha’s ears and the cub half closed her eyes in luxury.

“All these spots. I have more spots than Wajanja. I wish they would go away. My mom’s spots never all went away like Nala’s did. Does that mean I’m going to be spotty all my life?”

“I hope so,” Yolanda said.

The answer got Misha’s full attention. “Why?”

“Those cub spots were left where Aiheu touched you when you were born. He blesses all new cubs.”

“Boy, he sure must have blessed me one good!”

Yolanda smiled, amused. “When the spots stay on after you’re grown, it’s a good sign. It’s a blessing, and I think it looks beautiful.” She drew close and said, “Your mother’s spots used to drive your father wild. Lions think lionesses with spots are extra special.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It probably makes no difference, but why tell THEM that? Hey, if you got ‘em, flaunt ‘em!” Yolanda whispered in her ear, “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but have you ever noticed how many spots Isha has?”

“Whoa!” Misha giggled.

“Didn’t I tell you!” Yolanda fondled her with a paw. “You’re very beautiful, and the older you get the more beautiful you’ll become.”

“That Wajanja thinks she’s so smart and so cute! But you know what? She’s the only one without a steady boyfriend!”

“Aiheu abamami!” Yolanda said with a good laugh. “There are words for cubs like her, and someday when you’re older you’ll hear some of them. Remember now, what I tell you lioness to lioness doesn’t get spread around, OK?”

“Sure!” Misha kissed her and rubbed against her face. “I love you, Grandma.”

“I love you too.”

Misha trundled away happily, and Yolanda watched with a smile as her granddaughter disappeared into the distance. Then she laid her head down, took in a deep breath and slowly let it out.

The African sun warmed her body, loosening her joints and making her drowsy. She rolled over on her back and let the warmth soak in her stomach, then turned on her sleeping side. With a contented grunt, she closed her eyes and waited for sleep to bear her away on quiet velvet paws. All was at peace.

“Oh good, you’re still here!”

One of Yolanda’s eyes opened slowly. She saw Togo barreling down on her just in time to pull her stomach tight before impact. Eyes shining, Togo climbed over her body to put his arms around her large neck and rub her with grunts of love and joy.

“How did you know I needed a good hug, Honey Tree?”

“Just a lucky guess?” Togo said, kissing her with his warm tongue and nuzzling her until she had to smile and then snuggling under her chin.

“Where’s your brother?”

“Over here!” Kombi said, walking over her back, across her ribs and down the other side to end up snuggled by her side.

Kombi watched the tuft on the end of Yolanda’s tail intently. It was all he could do not to pounce on it. “Togo and I were just talking about storms.”

“Arguing about it,” Togo said.

“Whatever. The point is, Togo says lightning is falling stars and I say that’s just nonsense. Everybody knows lightning is when the rain catches on fire! That’s what Wajanja says.”

“Good old Wajanja,” Yolanda said with a sigh. “Thunder and lightning happens because One Who Brings Rain roars a warning to the Makei. He's tells them that the ground is about to be blessed. Makei cannot stand the rain because it is holy and hurts them. But One-who- brings-rain is merciful and would not even hurt the Makei.”

“Wow!” Kombi said. “Mom was right. When you have a question, ask Yolanda.”

“I see,” Yolanda said. “I have a question for your mother next time I see her.”

Kombi ran on his merry way. Togo watched him go and became restless. “Well, I guess I better go.”

“Come on, Togo!”

Togo looked into Yolanda’s eyes and drew close. His pink tongue shot out and touched the tip of her nose. “I gotta go.”

“I understand,” Yolanda said, kissing him. “Come back--later.”

Yolanda smiled and laid her head down on the soft grass. “That Togo is such a dear,” she muttered softly. “If I was a few years younger, I’d want a son just like him.”

Dealing with the cubs was her special pleasure, and it had become her job since her loss of speed and strength on the hunt had made her more valuable as a cub setter. Once in a while she would follow along on the hunt in search of her lost youth. Just a week ago, she brought down a gazelle, and it did wonders for her self esteem. But for the moment the wonders she needed would be found in a good nap.

“Merciful Aiheu,” she whispered, “I love them all, but let me get some sleep? Remember old Yolanda who loves you.”

Lisani came treading quietly toward her. Yolanda glanced up and sighed. “Maybe you’re getting a little hard of hearing with age? Please, Lord?” She glanced back at Yolanda with a forced smile. “You came by to ask old Yolanda for a story? Maybe a quick question?”

Lisani yawned. “Not now. I’m too tired.”

Lisani rubbed her cheek against Yolanda’s face, then she snuggled quietly next to her chest. Yolanda draped her paw over Miss Priss and smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Aiheu. Maybe your ears are still sharp.” And with Lisani’s tiny, soft body cuddled to her, she grunted with contentment and finally fell asleep.

Beesa was funny and sweet and when you looked at her beautiful face, her eyes shone like a warm nuzzle. She was a good and patient mother, and everyone who knew her loved her. And when the moon stood at its zenith enchanting the acacia trees with a silver luster, an angry elephant crushed her body and left her there to die.

Small Lisani huddled by her Aunt Isha and trembled. The enormity of her mother’s death was an inescapable burden wounding her cubhood innocence to the core.

When Lisani was alone with Isha, she worked up nerve enough to ask a question--THE question.

“How did it happen?”

“We had been hunting all night, but by midmoon we had nothing to show it. By the moonlight we could see the small group of elephants in the distance, but Uzuri told us to ignore them. But you know your mother--Beesa saw that a calf had strayed too far from the group and she must have thought she could cut it off and out of the herd.

“Uzuri was calling out our sweep pattern. We were going with the fork pattern, and she was going to lead the left wing. She wanted Beesa in the trail spot, but didn’t see her anywhere. She asked about your Mom, but no one had seen her.

Then Malaika saw her. There was this big elephant cow sneaking up behind Beesa. Uzuri shouted for her to watch out, but by the time your mom turned around it was too late. That elephant charged her and tossed her like a twig, then it stomped on her.”