John Burkitt: The Promise

A few moments of near absolute silence went by. If this mandrill was really a great sorcerer, he would perform some great spell, probably in exchange for his freedom. That was the plan, wasn’t it? “Aiheu,” she whispered, “give him the power. Give him the power.”

After a few moments, she heard a loud cry from the cave. It was not an apelike sound but the heart-rending howl of a fully-grown male lion whose strength and courage could not even keep a small cub from dying before his eyes.

Isha, her ears and tail drooping, went past bearing a small dead male. “Oh Isha,” Kako whispered, pawing her shoulder as she walked by. Isha looked around, her eyes red with hopeless tears. Soon after that, escorted by hyenas, Rafiki dragged past as well. Kako watched the grief stricken mandrill limp by, leaning heavily on his staff. If possible, he looked even older and more bent than before.

Taka came out on the promontory and shouted in his anguish, “If there is a God....” He took in a deep breath and concluded, “....please help me!!” He sat on the end of the promontory, his face bent low and sobbed. Fabana slipped alongside him and held up her finely chiseled nose, howling like her heart would crumble. Even the lionesses that hated him most were silent, transfixed by the depth of their grief. Then Taka raised his muzzle to the sky, pulled in a deep breath and roared with pain. All of the lionesses took up the sound. The hyenas howled and yammered, and from a nearby acacia, a flight of weaverbirds scattered like a living cloud. The silence that followed could almost be nudged by a paw. All eyes were on the dark-maned lion as he trudged down the promontory.

Still weak in the knees, Taka wended his way down Pride Rock and crept slowly to where Kako stood with her son.

“It seems the Gods have spoken,” Taka said. “There will be no prince from my line.” His chin began to tremble and tears spilled down his cheeks. “She can never....the damage has....”

Fabana quickly pressed her shoulder against his. “Remember, son. You’re a king.”

Taka did his best to keep some royal dignity, but he looked like a trembling blade of grass caught in a strong wind. Kako quietly padded over and kissed him. “I’m so sorry. You poor dear—I mean, Your Majesty.”

“Kako, you came to me from the gods. Your goodness is one of the few things that can laugh at the curse that burns my blood.” He sighed, and with great effort said, “Mabatu is my Prince, and your future King.”

“You honor us, Bayete.”

He looked at Mabatu. “Hello, sport.”

“Hello, Your Majesty.”

“You are a prince now. You should call me by my name, or if you feel like it, you may call me...please call me....Dad?”

Mabatu came and sat next to him, burying his head in Taka’s mane. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too.” He kissed Baba. “You’re my last hope, son. Go to sleep a little early tonight ‘cause tomorrow, I’m waking you at sunrise. I have something I want to show you.”

“What?”

“You’ll see.”

Mabatu stood on the end of the promontory with Taka and saw the sunrise.

“Look at the light,” Taka said. “See how splendid it makes the plain look? That is my kingdom, and someday it will be yours.”

“When?”

“When I die,” Taka said, solemnly.

“Then I hope I never get to be king,” Mabatu said.

“What a beautiful, foolish notion! We all have to go into the east when our time comes. What makes life worth living is what you do with the time you have. Like this morning. I made sure I woke up to show you this, because it was important to me. When I’m seated among the stars, I’ll look back on this memory and smile.”

“Me too.” Mabatu leaned against Taka’s dark mane. "So Dad, when you were my age, did your dad do this with you?"

Taka said, "My father was...." He stiffened and his jaw began to quiver. "He was always.... I mean, we never...."

The words stuck in his throat. Tears began to stream down his face.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing.” He wiped his eyes with a paw. “Please, don't watch me cry. Please? Just go run along and see your mother--I'll be with you in a minute."

Reluctantly, sadly, Mabatu nuzzled his king and stalked down the promontory leaving Taka alone with his private grief.

"Aiheu! Roh'kash! Anyone!” Taka cried in an anguished voice that echoed off the distant hills. “If you’re really out there, why did you take my son?? Why??" He dropped his face to the ground and sobbed helplessly.

Mabatu was living up to his promise. Those who thought handsome babies often grow up to be plain had to admit that there were exceptions to every rule. At one year of age, Baba was still a youngster, but his beauty would turn the heads of the female cubs. Like warm sunshine was his smile, and his walk was a carefully choreographed dance of joy that delighted the eye and gladdened the heart.

Lela padded over to him at the cistern as he stopped to draw refreshment and watched him with deepest admiration. “Baba? What’cha doing now?”

“I’m seeing what I’d look like with big round wrinkles.”

She laughed. “I don’t think you COULD look ugly if you tried.”

“Oh really?” He crossed his eyes and covered the end of his nose with his tongue.

“Eww, gross!” She turned sideways, and bending her body away from him, she said, “How about my long, furry tongue!” She opened her mouth and passed her tail along her opposite cheek and wiggled it.

“Cool! How about a big wet kiss with it!” He did likewise. “Like this?”

“Yeah! That’s so sick!”

“Hey, that’s nothing. Wanna hear me roar?”

“You, roar??”

“Sure I can. Just listen....” He gulped air several times, then with a look of supreme concentration, he held up his snout and vented it in a long, soulful belch.

“You win!” she said, giggling. “I could NEVER do that!”

He sprang at her and put his paws around her neck. Giggling, she wrestled with him, planning all the time to let him win but not to let it show.

Back and forth they swayed, standing on hind limbs with a supreme effort to unseat each other and pin shoulders to the ground. Then Mabatu lost his footing and rolled backwards. With a loud splash, he landed in the icy cistern, paddling in shock through the chilly waters to the side.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Lela said, helping pull him out by the scruff of the neck. As he stood dripping and shivering, she kissed his face. “I like you, Baba! I always have! I’d never do anything to hurt you!”

“I know.” He shook off, showering her with moist diamonds. “Hey, so I slipped. No big deal.”

“So you’re not mad?”

“No.” He touched her cheek with his tongue. “It’s OK.”

“I’m glad.” She kissed him back. “I really do like you. Do you think I could see you again?”

He smiled. “Why not? Just don’t drown me, OK?”

She laughed. “It’s a deal!”

Just then, Isha walked by. “Were you swimming in the cistern?”

“I’m sorry, Isha. It was an accident.”

“Well try to be more careful. Hey, we have to drink that stuff!” She nuzzled him. “I’m headed out to Anteater Kopje to scout out the herd if anyone asks where I am.”

“Can I come too??”

“Sure, if you’ll be quiet.”

His face positively glowed. “Not a word,” he said, putting his paw over his mouth and winking. It may have looked funny to other creatures, but among lions it is a solemn promise of silence.

Lela’s ears drooped. “But I wanted to play tag!”

“Maybe later,” Mabatu said.