LEGAL NOTE:

 

This original copyrighted work by John Burkitt and David Morris is based on Disney’s feature film “The Lion King” and its sequel “Simba’s Pride.”  Elements taken directly from The Lion King or Simba’s Pride are the property of The Walt Disney Company.  “Chronicles” is distributed free of charge excepting reasonable distribution costs.  The characters Akase, Isha, and Malaika are the creation of Brian Tiemann.  Magnwa, Rakira and Rama are service marks of Jarrod Henry, Erick Zopfi and Ian Layton respectively.  The names were used to honor friends by a mention in the Chronicles and are not necessarily consistent with the original characters. 

 

FOREWORDS TO THE 2000 EDITION:

 

Just as the original Chronicles of the Pride Lands started out as a simple short story, the current work started out as a simple revision.  In both cases, the original scope was greatly broadened.

                There is something to be learned from this.  The success of Chronicles, which to this day still astounds me, is due to its own inner life.  Even I am not fully in control of it—sometimes I feel more like a reporter than an author.  Every pain from a cub stubbing his toe to a hyena being ripped alive has taken its toll on me, and every joy from a simple nuzzle to a newborn son has rebuilt me.  The story itself insists that it be told right, and themes like the ones in this work demand to be explored carefully and thoroughly.  Before you insist, “That’s just more fun for the authors,” I point out that the sheer bulk of Chronicles makes it a chore to revise, much less restructure.  It was worth it, but it was hard to do and had I known just how hard at the outset, it might never have been done.

                Now I would like to correct a slight oversight in my original foreword.  Writing Chronicles with Dave was one of the ways we expressed our deep and rich friendship.  Though I share it with you gladly and proudly, Chronicles was a gift that Dave and I gave each other.  A clever man may figure how many words each of us crafted, but he would be wise to note how much was inspired by our manic phone conversations, emails and online chats.  I can’t begin to figure out how many of my own thoughts in the raw stage were redirected by Dave’s reaction.  If the influence of his personal reactions to my work were factored in, any guestimate based on word count becomes meaningless.

 

                John Burkitt - chakal@home.com

                September 24, 1999, Nashville, Tennessee

 

 

Chronicles, in its various forms, represents an incredible investment of time and thought.  Had I known just how much back in 1996 when John and I initially began the project, it would have scared me badly enough I might have decided to take up an occupation less hazardous…like nuclear waste retrieval.

                In retrospect, I’m glad I didn’t.  I uncovered a great many things in the process of writing, revising, and editing this work.  I found out I could write.  I discovered some very good friends.  I grew along with the story itself, learning things in my life and passing them on in my writing.  I learned how to look inside myself and look outside at the world around me, and find something to make the two connect.

                Which is pretty much what The Lion King was all about, I think.  You decide.

 

                Postscriptum:

                John will tell you that this work is a shared labor between us, which is true.  He will tell you that we both made tremendous contributions to this work, which is also true.  He sometimes omits to mention things, however, and I want to take a moment to correct this.

                Chronicles, in its original conception and vision, is entirely his vision.  Without his unique approach and outlook, this work would never have been conceived or executed.  I myself might never have realized what is now my life’s goal; to write, and write well.  If you find something in these pages that inspires you, be sure and thank him.  If you discover a goof, that’s probably mine.

 

                David Morris - damorris@wilmington.net

                September 24, 1999, Wilmington, North Carolina

 

 

PART ONE:  MOHATU’S SONS

 

PROLOGUE:

 

                One day Mother Earth looked to Father Sky for a little overdue attention.  He responded with passionate lightning and thunder, wrapping her in the fertilizing power of his rain.  She passed that power to her children—the grass and the trees, and those whom the plants sustained.

                In the shelter of a granite monolith, the lioness Tanga stirred herself, love lighting her eyes like stars.  She nuzzled her mate Mohatu and looked into his own shining eyes.  A smile warmed the corners of his ebony mouth as she touched him with her soft pink tongue.

                She walked a few steps then knelt upon the ground, looking back expectantly.  She was not disappointed, for Mohatu rose at once and came to her.

                Tanga was always sure that was the moment she conceived her twin sons.

 

 

CHAPTER 1:  THE UPLIFTING

 

                King Mohatu paced nervously across the floor of the cave, the relentless padding of his feet forming a steady rhythm.  The old serval Madu followed his progress with his ears but looked steadily ahead.  “You know I would do anything you asked,” Madu said.  “But why this?”

                “Everyone wants to see the new prince,” Mohatu said without breaking his stride.  “Any one of them would jump at the chance to stand by my side.  Anyone but you, it seems—the King’s own advisor and best friend."

                Madu tensed at the upbraiding.  "I love you—you KNOW I love you—but I can't go out there!  They will find out!  They are not stupid!"  His once-hazel eyes now misted with cataracts turned toward the pacing sound.  "Is that how you want me to be remembered?  Stumbling around like a blind newborn?  If you love me, would you shame me like that?"

                Mohatu stopped suddenly and looked at the stooped, stiffened ruin of a once-proud hunter.  "Madu, I didn’t mean to…”  The lion watched the serval’s ears lay back and his head bow.  He drew close and said gently, “Walk with your face touching my mane so everyone will know you have found favor in the King's eyes and I will guide your steps.  No one has to know.  I’ll make sure they all see you the way I see you—young and strong and beautiful.”

                "You are good to me," Madu said.  He drew in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh.

                “What’s wrong?  I may not have your gift, but I can read your moods, and you’re not well.”

                “I’m feeling my age, friend.”  The serval sighed.  “What am I going to do when my sight is completely gone?  My eyes are getting worse each day.  Someday I’ll be trapped in a never-ending night with no moon or stars where I will starve to death!  I’m not afraid to die, but I don’t want to go slowly!”

“Madu, why didn’t you come to me before?”

“Because you can’t keep me from going blind.  Nobody can.”  He pawed the lion’s mane.  “If you truly love me, come to me one night when I am asleep and put me out mercifully and quickly."

                “Madu!”

                “I don’t want to know the time.  I’ll find out when Mano takes me home.  Tell me I can count on you, my friend.”

                Mohatu nuzzled him softly.  "You’re not going to starve!  If your sight goes, I will see to your needs.  This is a good land and there is enough for all.”

“But I’d be worthless to you.”

“Worthless??"  Mohatu drew close.  “You aren’t just my counselor.  You’re a father to me.  If you died, I’d be losing my Dad a second time.  You don’t want to live without your eyes, but I don’t want to live without my heart.  You don’t need eyes to see how much I love you.”

                Madu’s chin began to tremble and a couple of tears ran down his sensitive face.  "I love you too.  I’ve fathered three sons and four daughters in my time, but none have I loved more than you, my lion son."

                A huge golden paw that had battered many enemies softly caressed the small cat’s shoulder and fondled his cheek, provoking a deep, soft purr.  “I’ll guide you well through the ceremony.  You're as safe with me as my own son."  Mohatu sighed, then scowled and began to pace again.  "I wonder how safe my son really is.  This whole mandrill thing has me worried."

                Madu dabbed off his wet cheek with a paw.  "You worry too much.  Rafiki’s shown you a dozen times he can lift the cub.  He’s small, but he’s wiry.”  The serval nuzzled him.  “It's going to be spectacular.  Your son suspended between heaven and earth off the tip of the promontory….I can see it in my mind."

                "Another vision?"

                "No, just my imagination."  Madu smiled.  "But I do see a herd of wildebeests that will be in the eastern meadow at sundown.  They’re good eating.  You take it for granted, but a little guy like me doesn’t get much of the good stuff."

                “Madu!”  Mohatu looked about with mixed amusement and shock.  "They have come for the ceremony.  We can't break custom or Aiheu will punish us—you know that!"

                "Don’t you go teaching ME custom after all the times I had to drum lessons into your head.  You’re not too old for a good cuffing and I’m…oh...get ready.  Rafiki is coming now, I can feel it."

                "All right, take your position beside me."

                The serval put his cheek against Mohatu's soft mane and purred.  Mohatu started forward, his weight shifting slightly from side to side in an elegant and powerful lion stride.  Next to him, purring softly, was the serval that loved him, eyes clouded but head erect and proud.  The cool wind and bright sun let Madu know he’d left the shelter of the cave, but if he felt fear, he didn’t show it as he strode up and out along the spine of the promontory. 

                The gentle rise of the stone had been warmed by the sun and felt good under Madu’s feet.  The gentle wind brought the fragrance of several different peoples to his sensitive nose and wrapped his face in the musky softness of Mohatu’s mane.  “How am I doing?”

                “You’re doing fine,” Mohatu softly purred.

                “I feel fine,” Madu answered.  “I wish I could be here to do this for Ahadi’s son.”

                Mohatu chuckled softly.  "You’ll outlive us all, you old codger!"

                The lion settled into a sitting position close to the tip of the promontory.  The serval sat next to him, snuggling into his warmth and purring again.  In fact he welcomed the excuse to be close to his lion son.

                “This isn’t so bad, is it, Madu?”

                “Not at all,” the serval said.  “I can sense many minds.  Describe it to me.”

                "Ok.  There are Zebras at the front.  You know how they are—very pushy creatures, at least till my girls give them a good scare.  The elephants are down near Anteater Kopje, about a dozen or so.  The wildebeests and giraffes are to our right.  It looks like they all turned out this time—I bet they’re waiting to see if there’s going to be an accident.”

                “Sire, what a thing to say!”

                Mohatu laughed nervously.  “It was a joke—I only hope it stays that way.”  He shifted restlessly.  “They are expecting a blessing, and I suppose it's time we gave them one.  You said Rafiki was coming?"

                "Yes.  His presence is very strong."

                Just then Mohatu caught sight of a mandrill headed through the gathered host.  The crowd parted respectfully as Rafiki headed slowly toward the base of the stone.  “He’s on the path now,” the lion said.  “He’s slow but he’s spry.  I remember the tales my father told me about him and the things he used to do.”

                “We talked often,” Madu said.

                “I didn’t know you had met him!”

                The serval smiled and chuckled.  “You think you are so wise, but I can still surprise you.  Rafiki and I would talk from high noon to sundown.  We have some things in common.”

                “No doubt,” Mohatu said.  “Oh, here he comes up the switchback and now he’s almost to the base of the promontory.  Gods, I hope he doesn’t get too tired.”

                “He won’t drop the cub,” Madu said definitively.

                “You know this?”

                “I know Rafiki.  That’s enough for me.”

                The mandrill looked a bit exhausted at the base of the promontory, but he straightened with pride as he reached the ramp of kings.  The ape looked at Tanga's twin sons for a moment and scratched his chin whiskers.  "Which one, my dear?"

                “Prince Ahadi,” Tanga said softly.  The cub on the left looked up as if he knew his name.

                “Quite a fine boy.  But they are both fine.”  Rafiki took out his rattle, his pouch of dust, and a kavrna fruit.  He broke the fragrant fruit, then anointed the brow of the young prince.  “May you be fruitful, my little child.”  The cub began sniffing at the odd aroma.  Then when Rafiki spread dust across the sticky resin his features screwed up and he sneezed.  “From this land you have sprung,” Rafiki intoned gently.  “The rocks have formed your bones, and the winds gave you your breath.  It is bound to you, and you are bound to it as the tree is bound to its mother soil.”  He shook his medicine rattle over him to drive away the evil spirits, smiling as the cub batted at the new toy.  “Ah, he’s a fighter, just like his dad.”

                Tanga purred, but then looked at Rafiki sternly.  “Be careful with him.”

                “I would rather fall than drop him.  Remember when you were small and I held you in my arms?  Did you feel safe?”

                Tanga purred again and touched him with her tongue.  “I remember.”

                All eyes were looking up at the promontory.  They saw the monkey bend and pick up the cub, then turn to walk proudly and straightly up the backbone of Pride Rock.  A hartebeest nudged her young calf who was distracted.  “Forget the butterfly, my child.  You will see many more.  Watch this!”

                Rafiki passed the king and the serval.  For one moment all was perfectly still—even the wind died down as if in anticipation of a great and defining moment.  Then a collective gasp arose as right on the very tip of the stone he thrust the cub into the sky. 

                There were shouts from the monkeys, shrill blasts from the elephants, bows and scrapes from the antelopes and zebras.  And then in the midst of their revelries, a bright golden light parted the heavens and streamed down to bathe young Ahadi with celestial splendor.  A hush fell over the crowd.

                “It’s a miracle!” Mohatu stammered.  He gazed longingly into the light.  “A miracle!”

                “Are you afraid?” Madu asked.

                “Afraid?  Of him?  Of HIM?”  Mohatu could not tear away his gaze.  “Not of HIM.  Who’d be afraid of HIM?”

                “Anyone with common sense is afraid of him.”

                Mohatu took in a deep breath, then let it slowly out.  “Yes, I am afraid.”

                After a moment that seemed like an eternity, Rafiki lowered the cub, then turned around visibly shaken.  He walked back past Mohatu and Madu as if he did not see them and drew nigh to Tanga.  Then he kissed the cub, put him down, stroked Tanga between the ears and began to cry.  "Blessed are you,” he stammered, “and blessed are the fruits of your love!"  Without another word, he passed her and walked away.

 

 

CHAPTER 2:  MOHATU’S PRIDE AND JOY

 

N’ga the sun, was as clever as a lioness.  Whomever stared at him—and no one could for long—thought they saw him hanging motionless in the sky.  Still, N’ga was persistent in his stalking and almost unnoticed whole days rushed by and nightly hunts came and went.  Since Ahadi’s presentation, Sufa the moon had slowly his face three times in fullness and retreated.  Old Ayla had left to hunt antelope and was herself gathered to the stars.  Jebeha had come into his mane and was sent into the “big world” and his sister Tamu had shared her pleasures with a lion.  Only Pride Rock seemed unchanged.

With time and mother’s milk, Ahadi quickly grew from a sleepy newborn into a vibrant, playful creature.  The world was fresh to his new eyes and everything had to be explored.  Half of his sentences began with “why,” and the other half asked “why not.”  Tanga patiently answered his questions, pausing from time to time to remind him to retract his claws when he climbed on her back.  Some of the explanations he understood, others he listened to with his head tilted in confusion only to follow it with more questions.

 

***

 

Ahadi had seen the lioness Moshana with her motherly bulge and wondered about how cubs could be inside her—how they breathed and ate in there, and how they carried out even more earthy pursuits.  His mother Tanga only smiled indulgently and gave him no details—he suspected she did not know either.

One day Tanga came back excited from a trip to Moshana’s cave.  “She is a new mother,” Tanga said, nuzzling Ahadi and Shaka.  “I saw the cubs—two little lionesses.”

“Can I see?” Shaka asked.  “I asked first!”

“Ahadi gets to look first,” Tanga said.

“But I asked first!”

“He needs to be betrothed,” Tanga said calmly.

“Yeah,” Ahadi said.  “I need to be betrothed.”  He smiled, then fidgeted.  “Mom, Is it going to hurt much?”

“It means we’re going to find you a girl to be your special friend one day.”

“Oh!”  Ahadi looked over at Shaka.  “Be-TROTHED.  I thought she said something else!”

“Like what?” Shaka asked warily.

Ahadi panicked.  With his limited vocabulary he couldn’t think of another word that sounded remotely like it.  Then he forgot that problem and turned to another.  “Mom!  Why does it have to be a GIRL?”

Tanga laughed warmly.  “You will discover that for yourself—someday.”

Mohatu came over, smiling.  “She’s ready.”

“Can I see the cubs now?” Ahadi asked.

“Sure you can, little fellow!”  Mohatu looked at him long and carefully with a broad smile that made Ahadi very uncomfortable.  “Three moons difference in your age won’t show when you are a great king.  Still for now…”  The lion chuckled.

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mohatu said, then chuckled again.  “Come on, son.  Let’s do it!”  With obvious pride, he headed out with Ahadi in tow.

“I’ve never seen brand new cubs before.”

“They are very small and they sleep a lot.  Remember to keep your voice down.  They’re just one day old today.”

“Can I play with them?”

“No you certainly can NOT.  They are very small and very weak.  Soon they’ll be up and moving around and then you can play with them—very gently.”

 

***

 

The first thing Ahadi said was to Moshana.  “Hey, your belly is smaller!”

“Thanks for noticing.”

His nose twitched.  “Did something die in here?”

Moshana laughed.  “Not exactly.  Something was born in here.  Look at my new girls.”

Ahadi drew a little closer.  He could see two tiny creatures that looked only remotely like lions taking their milk at her teats.

“Come closer.  There is room for you.”

“But I just ate.  I mean, no thank you, ma’am.”

“Take just a little then.  You’re supposed to this time.”

Ahadi still nursed his mother though he ate solid food.  He had also nursed his “aunties” but it was his first time to settle on Moshana.  Carefully he found a spot next to the tiny, cooing creatures and selected an available teat.  As the warm milk flowed into him, Moshana tenderly cuddled him with a paw.  His eyes half closed and he began to wish he’d been hungrier.

When he could take no more and thanked her, he turned his attention to what he really came to see.  There were two sisters, very tiny, wet and musky. 

Moshana purred.  “This is Yolanda and this is her sister Akase.”

“How can you tell?”

Moshana chuckled.  “Yolanda is the one with the broader nose like her Dad.  Akase has a little perky nose like mine.”

Mohatu laughed.  “What do you know—it IS perky.”

“They’re so small,” Ahadi said with wonder.  “I thought there would be three of them.”

Moshana sighed.  “Their little brother is away visiting Mano.”

“When will he be back?”

“Someday, just not soon.”  She looked up and added, “Mohatu, would you please quit staring at my nose?”

The King laughed—he had a deep laugh that made all who heard it feel warm inside.  “OK Perky Nose, let’s attend to the business we discussed.”

Ahadi had the uncomfortable feeling that everyone was looking at him and smiling meaningfully.  It was the second time that had happened in one morning.  “What business?”

Moshana began to speak in a low rhythmic chant.  Ahadi could tell it was different somehow, for he had witnessed ceremonies before.  He sat and listened:

 

Daughter fine, daughter mine,

Fresh from Aiheu to my keeping

Queenship is your right and duty,

Bear it well, live long in love.

 

Mohatu then spoke to his son in a tender voice of soft beauty:

 

Son so fine, son of mine,

Fresh from Aiheu to my keeping

Kingship is your right and duty,

Bear it well, live long in love.

 

He drew close to his son and whispered, “Now it is time to seal the promise with a kiss.”

“Ok,” Ahadi said, turning his cheek.

“Not me.  You kiss her.”

“Moshana?”

“No.  Akase.”  He chuckled.  “The one with the perky nose like her mom’s.”

“Oh.”  He looked over at the cubs.  “I kiss THAT?”  He went over to the cubs and looked at both of them carefully.  He whispered, “Moshana, what’s a perky nose?”

“Akase’s the one on the right.”

Ahadi whispered, “Is right on this side?”

Moshana touched him with her pink tongue.  “Honey tree, your OTHER right.”

Ahadi grinned sheepishly, but when he saw his intended target right at his feet, he lost the smile. Not realizing to a mother a newborn is the most precious looking thing in all creation he said,  "But she's yucky!"

“She’s not yucky.  Now give her a kiss.”

Grimacing, he came close, then hesitated.  He looked back around.  Mohatu nodded.  He looked back.  "Ok, here goes."  He squeezed his eyes shut and stuck out his tongue.

"Closer."

He drew an inch closer.

"You have to touch her."

Ahadi sat rigid as a stone, his tongue stuck out like a pink flower.  The hair on his back stood straight up.  Then suddenly Moshana lightly popped him on the rump.  Ahadi plunged forward, finding his whole face buried to the ears in moist fur.  He opened his eyes, drew away, then rubbed his face with a paw.  "EEEEEWWW!"

Moshana said, “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Ahadi crossed his eyes as he wiped off his nose with a paw.  “She’s yucky!”

"She’s not yucky,” Moshana said.  “She's been given a bath.  That's just mother's kisses."

"Yeah right.”  Ahadi looked around.  “Mom never kisses ME that way."

 

 

CHAPTER 3:  WORDS OF WISDOM

 

While Moshana was giving Ahadi a quick cleanup after his “kiss,” a small but lanky cat strode in on long, spindly legs.  The old serval walked erect but hesitantly toward Mohatu, then felt about quickly with a paw to make sure he was really there.  A smile of joy and relief crossed his face and he nuzzled the king and rubbed him.

“Thank you for coming, Madu.”

“The pleasure is mine,” the old cat said, purring too loudly to have not meant it.

Ahadi had often seen Madu eating with the pride, but he had never spoken with him before.  The lion cub had found him strange and a bit intimidating.

"So where is the little prince?”  Madu went to the twins and sniffed each one.  “Oh my—Sire they are both female.  My eyes may be failing me, but not my nose.”

“To the left, Madu.”

“Oh, I see.”

Moshana nudged the timid lion cub forward as Madu drew close to look at him.  Ahadi looked up at the slender cat who still managed to tower over him and when the cataract clouded eyes stared into his and the nose twitched to confirm his scent, Ahadi took a nervous step back. 

“Don’t be frightened, son.  I’ve been your father’s friend for the longest time.”  Madu’s voice was surprisingly gentle and warm.  “I know we haven’t spoken before, but I was rather afraid.”

Ahadi took a step forward and sat.  “Afraid?  Of me?”

“Not that you would attack me.  I was afraid that you would run from me.  Because I was old and nearly blind.”  Madu smiled self-consciously.  “Trapped inside this old body is the same cat I’ve always been.  I don’t usually mind being old, but I wanted to play with you the way I played with your father.  I wanted to tell you stories and teach you how to hunt mice.  Son, I used to leap straight up in the air to catch low-flying birds.  I was fun to be around in those days.  I wanted to be fun for you to be around, really I did.”

Ahadi gathered his courage to touch the old, sad cat with a paw.  “You can still tell stories, can’t you?”

“Yes,” Madu said with a fleeting smile.  “I suppose I can.”  The old serval stroked Ahadi and nuzzled him till his ears no longer laid back.  “Oh aren’t you getting big!  One day I'll have to look up to you and ask you how the weather is up there!"  He looked about.  "My goodness Mohatu, at this rate he’s going to be a mighty strong lion soon!”

Ahadi cracked a grin.  “Just like my dad.”

Mohatu chuckled.  “Tell the little prince’s fortune, my friend.”

Madu smiled and nuzzled him.  “Let me tell your future path.  Words of comfort, words of woe.  The future is ours to choose, but it is best entered with both eyes open.”

“What do you see?” Tanga asked.  Then she seemed to catch herself.  “In your mind,” she added, feeling a bit guilty.

“A moment’s patience, madam.”  He stroked the cub and concentrated.  "He will be handsome.  Like his father." 

Mohatu chuckled again.  “True.  Strong AND handsome—just like me.”

Madu looked into Ahadi’s eyes.  "You will lead a life of..."  He hesitated, frowned, then looked away. 

“What is it, Madu?”  Mohatu looked closely at the serval.

"It is not important.  It’s nonsense to tell the future when all they have to do is wait for it to happen.  That’s what I always say."

“You never say that.”  Mohatu’s ears laid back.  “What’s the problem?”

“Did I say there was a problem?”

“We’re friends.  Don’t play games with me, Madu.”

The serval looked back sympathetically.  “When days are dark, that is the time to look to the future with hope.  When days are fair, the future can only seem unkind and frightening.”

“How unkind?” Mohatu asked.  “How frightening?  This is no time for riddles.”

“His life is ideal now.  From the top of the kopje, the only way out is down.  But with hard work and Aiheu’s help, he will emerge victorious.  He’s a fighter, this one, but oh, if only little cubs could grow up in a perfect world where no one would ever bring them woes!”

“Woes build character,” Mohatu said philosophically.  “If we had no challenges in life, we would be lions in name only.”

“That’s a good attitude, Sire.  It will carry him through his woes—and beyond.”  He then looked at the twins.  “Take care of them, Moshana.  I see the death of a loved one.”

She gasped.  “When?”

“Soon.  Very soon.”

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know.  Sometimes I get bits and pieces.”  He looked at her sympathetically.  “It’s not you.”

Moshana gathered her two daughters and nuzzled them desperately.  “I’m not worried about me.  Is it a warning or is it fate?  Can I change this?”

“I don’t know.  Just take care of the girls and pray for them.”

 

 

CHAPTER 4:  IN THE MOONLIGHT

 

Later on that night as the stars winked in the purple heavens, Mohatu sat next to his mate Tanga, unable to sleep.  “Maybe Madu has seen more.  I must know what he meant.  Should I wake him?”

Tanga looked at him sleepily.  “If you’d wake me, you’ll wake him.”

Mohatu looked down at his son snuggled against Tanga’s side.  He looked so small, so innocent.  The thought that Ahadi would have to face hardship someday made Mohatu heartsick.  “Not if I can help it,” the lion softly whispered.  “Aiheu wrap you in his love, my boy, my dear little boy.”

As he passed Moshana’s favorite spot and found it unoccupied, he smiled.  He thought about Moshana and her newborn daughters, and how Ahadi squealed, “It’s yucky!”  But he remembered Madu’s dire prediction, and his smile quickly fell.  “You are right, old friend.  It is better NOT to know.”

In the star studded sky, a flight of bats passed overhead in pursuit of mosquitoes.  In the distance a leopard coughed and a nervous zebra brayed at the moon.  Otherwise all was still and peaceful.  Afraid of what he might hear, Mohatu walked slowly around the rim of Pride Rock, preserving for one extra moment the comfort of not looking disaster in the eye.  “Oh Aiheu, please let it be something I can fix!  He’s just a boy!  He has a right to enjoy life like his father.  Show me the way, Lord!  Show me what I must do!”

Finally the lion ducked his head to enter the small cave Madu had used for the last few years.  The dim moonlight showed the serval sprawled on the ground suspiciously.  A moan escaped his prostrate body.

Mohatu went to him quickly and nudged him gently with a paw.  “I know you need your sleep, old fellow.  Please wake up.  We need to talk.”  The serval groaned and looked up.  Pain had etched his features as deeply as the rock on which he laid.  “Oh gods!  What’s wrong, Madu?”

“Dying,” he gasped.

 “Hold on, old friend.  I’ll go get Rafiki.”

“No time.  Don’t leave me, Mohatu!”

“I won’t.”  The lion touched his small face with his tongue.  Indeed, Madu was dying—Mohatu had seen that look in the eyes of prey.  “The vision you had this morning—I must know what you saw.”

The pain Madu felt tightened his face into a harsh parody of the cat he had been.  “Someone he loves.  Jealousy.  Danger.  Tell him…to be careful…with his….”

Madu could only moan softly as his lips tried to form the words.  Mohatu took his large paw and gently stroked the small face.  “I’ll tell him to be careful with everything.  I swear.  Rest easy, my old friend.  I won’t leave you.”

Madu’s sightless eyes turned to the voice.  He drew in one deep breath, then with his remaining strength he reached up to snag his claws in Mohatu’s mane and yanked his face closer.  “Taka!” he cried desperately in a way that raised Mohatu’s hackles.  And as if his spirit left with the word, his grip relaxed and he fell limp, his eyes still frozen in a look of horror.

It was over.

“So you were the loved one who dies,” Mohatu said, a tear growing and rolling down his cheek.  He sighed, stroking the still-warm body with frustrated affection.  “Now you can see clearly from where you are, and I am the one that is left blind!  Why now?  Why right now?”

The lion took Madu by the scruff of the neck, as if he were a cub, and carried him on one last journey down the rock toward the place of the dead—the eastern meadow.  So many memories surfaced of games on the savanna, of stories under the stars, and splashing in the waterhole.  Never again would that tiny body push against him with joy.  Not in this world.

Mohatu reached a nice place between two trees where Madu’s spirit could see the shining stars of Chui the Leopard above him.  It was an idyllic place, but even as the still body was laid in the grass, luminous eyes shone from the surrounding bushes.  Mohatu glared back at them and spent a moment by his old friend stroking his fur and letting tears spill to the ground.  Then when the good bye was over, he rumbled a traditional blessing, which also served as a warning.  “Remember as you rend this body that you too shall die, so show respect.”

“We will,” reedy jackal voices said from the surrounding bushes.  “We just eat the body.  Ghost all gone home to Mungo.”

The polite things had been, and Mohatu turned quickly before he saw his friend stripped like an antelope.

 

***

 

When Mohatu went back to the cave and laid back next to Tanga, she rubbed him with a paw.  “What did Madu say?”

Tears welled up in his eyes.  “He’s dead.”

“Oh gods,” she sighed.  “Thank Aiheu you were with him at the end.”

“I know.  We took the last walk together.”

After a respectful pause, she asked, “Did he speak before he died?”

 “Something strange.  Something about garbage.  He must have been delirious, and it was like it hurt coming out.  Like it was a warning.  ‘Taka’ was his last word.  Strange for someone who was a great treasure do die with ‘Taka’ on his lips.”

“It was probably part of a word.  He died before he could finish it.”

“Maybe you’re right.  I hope you are.”  He put his paw across her shoulder and sighed.

 

 

CHAPTER 5:  STEP BY STEP

 

                Ahadi spent much of his waking life chasing butterflies and lizards, but sometimes he sought more challenging game.  Adult lions were great fun, and he often tussled with the deadly tuft of a tail tip.  Deadly in that the tuft was likely to come back and smack him in the face if he bit down on it too hard.  Ahadi became good at judging how far he could push adults without driving them to a safer resting place. 

                Sometimes the adults just wanted to sleep when he just wanted to play.  At those times, he had to turn to his brother Shaka for amusement.  But with Akase getting older, he began to feel the first pressure from his family to spend time with her.  His opinion of her at that first kiss was that she was “yucky” and it had gone steadily downhill from there.

                One afternoon, the decidedly bored prince gave up his pursuit of a most uncooperative grasshopper and decided to wander inside and see who was awake.  The aftermath of a previous night’s successful hunt lay before him in all its desolation; lionesses lay sprawled upon the cavern floor, gorged and lethargic…hardly good for any sort of play.  In one corner he spied Moshana, her lithe form resting easily on one side and dreaming contentedly; beside her, Yolanda was curled in the hollow of her mother’s throat, her little body trembling with the purrs of her mother and answering with tiny ones of her own.  Slightly to one side, Akase was sprawled in an ungainly shape, a look of intense concentration on her face.  As Ahadi watched, the cub gathered herself, her shaking limbs pushing her pudgy body off the floor and then holding her upright.

                “Whatcha doin?”

                Akase’s forelegs betrayed her and spilled her to the ground again.  “Uff!”  She peered up at the larger cub, taking the moment to catch her breath.  “Cassie walkun!”

                Ahadi giggled shamelessly.  “You look really silly.”

                Her chin stuck out defiantly, and she scrabbled with her forepaws to push herself upright again, swaying for a moment and then steadying.  “Cassie walkun!”

                The prince rolled his eyes.  “Look, you can’t just stand there, you gotta move around.”  He trotted forward, his overlarge paws evading one another in a graceful motion.  “See?”

                Akase’s brow furrowed with frustration and her ears laid back. 

                “Try it.  You can do it.”  He paced over beside her and stood still.  “Just move like I do…c’mon.”   He picked up his near forepaw and moved it forward in a step, his body leaning into it.  “Now you do it.”

                Tongue stuck out in concentration, Akase wobbled slightly, leaning on him for a moment as she moved her own paw, settling onto it.  “Cassie walkun!  He he!!”

                “Yeah…but now you gotta move the other one.”  His other forepaw glided forward carefully.  “See?”

                She repeated the move.  “See?”

                “Yeah, you got it!”

                “You got it!” she squealed.

                “That’s what I said.”

                “That’s what I said!  Cassie walkun!”

                He stood beside her again, letting her lean on him for support.  “Ready…one, two..three!”  He paced off, slowly, and Akase followed along almost without effort, her form trembling as it leaned against his bigger one, her eyes shut as she moved her legs to Ahadi’s steady counting.

                Moshana looked up.  “What’s going on here?”

                Ahadi looked around.  “Cassie’s walkun!  Uh…I mean…Akase’s walking!”

                “Cassie walkun!  Cassie walkun!  He he!!”

                Akase tried to turn about quickly to face her mother and took a spill in the floor.

                “Well that’s my big girl!” Moshana purred.  “And her friend helped her.  Ahadi, you’re my little helper.  I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

                Ahadi smiled and straightened.  Then he helped Akase with a couple of well placed nudges regain her feet.  “Now we’ll walk back.”

                Moshana smiled indulgently.  “Not too far at first.  I’ll get her, sweetie.”  The lioness rose, stretched, and came over.  “Say thank you to Ahadi.”

                Akase giggled.  “Fank you to a Hawdy!”  She reached out with a forepaw and batted the prince on the nose, claws out.

                “OW!”    Ahadi rolled to one side, his eyes watering as he rubbed his nose.  “You dirty little…”

                “Shhhhh….she didn’t mean it.”  Moshana craned her head down to lick his sore nose with her warm tongue.  “She doesn’t know what she’s doing yet, Ahadi…be patient.”  The lioness smiled and leaned back, grooming her daughter amid another storm of giggles, deftly dodging the tiny paws as they flailed at her own nose.  “I think she really likes you.”

 

***

 

                Akase’s new mobility made Moshana very proud at first, but then it drove her nearly to distraction.  Once her mother had only called her name softly, but it had come to be yelled with a harsh edge of urgency more and more.  “Akase!  Little lady, you get back here THIS MINUTE!”

                Akase wanted attention.  Sometimes her tiny cherub face could elicit a few kind gestures from the lionesses and a few warm chuckles from Mohatu, but more often her high spirits and sense of mischief drove the others to distraction.

                Ahadi was often the target of her unwanted attentions.  Akase frequently followed him till the young lion learned to cringe at the words, “Whatcha doin, Hawdy?”

                “Oh, nothing,” he would say.  Not that a few words would discourage her.  That “nothing” was better than nothing more often than not.  Her only alternatives were her sister Yolanda and Ahadi’s brother Shaka.  Yolanda was quiet and shy.  Shaka spent much of his time with Denali, an adolescent lioness who found him “cute.” 

                Akase’s favorite game was boxing, but she changed the rules to suit herself.  To her it was fair to sneak up on Ahadi and whack him on the nose when he turned around, and then escaping amid laughter as the prince stormed after her, growling.  “Silly!” she would say.  “Silly Hawdy!”

                Once he showed a flash of temper.  “Stop it!  That hurts, darn it!”

                Akase stood still, staring at him with her eyes wide.  “Oooo!  You said a bad word!”

                Ahadi bit his lower lip.  “You’re not gonna tell…are you?”  He padded over to where she stood, his face pinched with worry. 

                WHACK!

                “OW!”   

                Akase giggled wildly.  “Silly!”

                The young prince growled at her, his little teeth bared.  His patience frayed, he whipped one of his paws up and around, batting Akase aside and sending her rolling away.  “I am not silly, you little poop head!”

                Akase wobbled upright.  Her chin quivered, and she picked herself up, heading across the cavern at a fast trot, bawling at the top of her lungs.  “Mamma mamma mammaaaa!”

                Moshana stirred herself and came to face the two cubs.  “Ahadi, did you learn that language from your mother?”

                “No, ma’am,” he said, looking down.

                “Does your father call people poop head?”

                “No, ma’am.”

                “I see.  And since you will be king someday, do you think you should talk to people that way?”

                “No, ma’am.  I’m sorry.”  He looked over at Akase who smiled self-righteously.  “But SHE keeps hitting me in the face and calling me silly!”

                “That’s no excuse for you to do something wrong,” Moshana explained, even if OTHER people are acting foolish.”  The lioness looked hard at her daughter.  “Now little lady, your hitting Ahadi has to stop.  And I don’t want to ask you twice, because the next time you’re going to be cuffed till you can’t sit down, understand?”

                Akase swallowed hard and nodded.

                “Very well.  Run along now and keep out of trouble.”

      Ahadi made a break for freedom., but he was stopped short of the cave entrance, tugging at a force holding him back.  Akase giggled as she held very firmly to the tip of his tail, pulling with all her horsepower in the opposite direction.  Finally, frustrated, he just went limp, falling back on her sprawled form with a plop.  He sat on top of her for a while.

                “Let me go!”

                “Are you going to be good?"

                "Yes."

                “Promise?”

                “Promise.”

                He stepped away, breathed a sigh of relief, and started out of the cave.

                “MRRROWRRRR!  Gotcha!”

                Moshana laughed.  "She really likes you."

                "You might say she's attached to me."

                "She looks up to you.  She imitates you.  You need to set a good example for her and take care of her."

 

 

CHAPTER 6:  GOOD HELP IS HARD TO FIND

 

Mohatu did not expect someone to take Madu’s place, but he needed someone to take his space.  Rafiki had too many patients that would not visit him in a lion’s den, so Mohatu resigned himself to finding someone without the gift of vision.  Day by day he realized how much he had come to rely on Madu’s second sight, and day by day he realized how much work Tanga had done with the cubs.  Though he could get along without guidance, he could not be both father and mother to his cubs and carry out all his duties.

A series of assistants had aspired to the job of counselor, but few lasted more than a few days before giving up in disgust.  It was hard to follow in Madu’s tracks, but even harder to tolerate the pranks of young Shaka and the temper of old Mohatu.

As the sun sank low in the sky one evening, a jittery female cheetah ran into the cave where Mohatu was busy grooming his mane. 

“Melina, how are the lessons coming along?”

“Oh I’ve learned my lesson, all right!”

Mohatu heard the tenseness in her voice.  He sighed and turned his attention away from his mane.  “Let’s talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about!  Even if I got first choice at your kills, I would not hang around here one more MINUTE.”

                “But Melina dear, you had such good ideas.  You remember—firm discipline with a mother’s love?”

                “If I were a lioness, MAYBE I could control him.  As it is…with all due respect…that boy is a BRAT and he’d do well to be taught that discipline is the foundation of future success.”

                “And what do I threaten Shaka with?  Not being king?  He already knows that.”  Mohatu hung his head.  “He misses his mother.  He was always such a quiet boy before she…”

                “I know.”  Melina looked at Mohatu’s careworn face.  “I know it’s hard raising them alone.  I’m so sorry about Tanga.”

                Mohatu sighed.  “I was so hoping that you could be a mother to them.  You’re so gentle and compassionate, and…”

                “And?”

                “And I was so fond of you.  Your smile was sunshine for me.  It’s a shame you don’t smile so often.”  He looked at her intently.  “Yes, like that.  Ah, now there’s that sweet smile!  Melina with the lovely smile!  Please don’t go, dear.  Give him another chance.  Give ME another chance…please?”

                “I hate it when you make me feel so guilty.”  She licked her paw and began to groom her face, partly to hide her expression.  “I tell you what I’ll do….”

                Just then Ahadi came running in at full tilt, followed shortly by Shaka.

                “Whatever it is she says I did,” Shaka panted, “I didn’t do it!”

                “Did TOO,” Ahadi yowled.  “I always get blamed for it, you little creep!”

                “Poop head!”

                “YOU’RE the poop head, you POOP HEAD!”

                The two cubs began to brawl, teeth snapping and paws flailing.  Melina shook her head as if she had wakened from a dream.  “That’s IT!  I’m OUT OF HERE!”  She turned with a flick of her tail and left abruptly.

                The cubs stopped long enough to notice.  “She’s gone,” Ahadi said.

“Didn’t like her anyway,” Shaka muttered.  “She’s not our mom.”

                “SILENCE!” Mohatu thundered in a half roar.  After securing their complete attention, he said, “Look, you two!  I know you miss your mother, and I tried to find someone that would be gentle with you and patient and kind.”  He settled on the ground, took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly.  “Now I’m at the end of the trail with this.  I’ll hire the very next thing that walks, crawls, hops or...” 

                In fluttered a hornbill. 

                “...flies in.”

                The young bird bowed stiffly before Shaka.  “Young master, my name is Zazu and I want to apply for the post of counselor.  Is your father about?”

                Shaka looked around.  “Dad, the next loser is here.”

                “Send him over,” Mohatu said, hardly stirring.

                The hornbill fluttered over and bowed.  “Your Most Excellent Majesty….”

                “Your name is Zazu and you want to apply for the post of counselor—I know..”  The lion opened an eye and stared at him a moment.  “You’re rather short, aren’t you?”

                The bird was flustered momentarily.  “Size is all in your viewpoint.  And mine can touch the clouds.  Prince Ugas made me a pretty good offer and I’m tempted to take him up on it.”

                Shaka looked about and snarled.  “Don’t threaten my Pop, feather butt.  You may fly high, but it’s what you do when you land that counts.”

                “I didn’t come here to be insulted,” Zazu said, flying just out of reach.  “I will go back where I am appreciated.”

                “You start tomorrow,” Mohatu said with a slight grin.  “I expect a full report in the morning.  You may prove useful, even if you do tend to ramble.”

                “You mean it?  I got the position?”

                “Yes.  You’re persistent and you believe in yourself.  That’s the kind of sass that got my father this land.  You will appear with me this evening so I can tell the hunters you are corban—that will keep you safe here from any creatures with sense, but watch the jackals and hyenas—they’re a rough bunch and sometimes they get a little crazy.”

                “I’ll try hard not to disappoint you.”

                “You won’t disappoint me.  I’ll either get a good report or a good meal.”  The pink tip of Mohatu’s tongue played around his ebony lips and his eyes narrowed.  “You decide.”

Zazu gasped and his tail feathers spread.  “I beg your pardon?”

Mohatu chuckled.  “That was a joke, Zazu.”  He added in a soft voice, “I’m trying to run a kingdom and raise two sons by myself.  If you can help me, you’ll have more than my protection—you’ll have the honor of leaving this world a better place than you found it.”

                “I’ll do my best.”  The bird bowed with a flourish.  “Thank you.  Thank you very much.”  He turned and started to leave.

                Mohatu said, “Oh, and before you leave, I need someone to keep an eye on the cubs.  Nothing special—just keep them out of trouble.  OK, feather butt?”

                “As you wish—fur face.”

                “Hey!” Ahadi shouted.  “Watch it!  He’s the king!”

                Mohatu looked about at him harshly.  “I think this one is going to be here a while.  You might as well get used to him.”  Then he had to smile again and shake his head.  “A hornbill for a counselor!  Madu, what is this world coming to?”

 

 

 

Mohatu stirred from his half-sleep under the shade of the promontory and stretched, yawning in a deep breath and lashing his tail.  “Well son,” he said to Ahadi who always napped nearby, “be good and don’t give Moshana any trouble—I know you wont.  It’s time to walk the border.”

Ahadi quickly stood and shook the grass from his fur.  “Let’s go, Dad!”

“I’m sorry.  I just said I have to walk the border.”

“I know.  Let’s go.”

“You did that with me yesterday.  Son, it will be the very same thing all over again.  Another long and uninteresting hike in the hot sun.  Remember how tired you got?”

“That’s ok.  Mano always walked with HIS dad.  That’s what Moshana says.  And you know what Zazu says about the duty of a king.”

“Every day, incessantly,” Mohatu said with a sigh.  “Son, I am so proud of you, but I don’t expect you to be chief of the Nisei.  It’s enough that you’re growing into a fine young lion.  Border patrol is dangerous.  Besides you have other things you need to be doing.”

“What things?”

“Playing, for Aiheu’s sake!  Find your brother and try to beat him at rag tag!  Let Moshana tell you a story!  Son, if I didn’t have this job, that’s what THIS lion would be doing!”  Mohatu shook his head.  “Youth is wasted on the wrong people!”

Ahadi’s tail drooped and his ears laid back.  “Yes sir.”

“Don’t give me that long face, son.  Someday soon, almost before you know it, you’ll be saying ‘Oh Dad, border patrol AGAIN?’”

Ahadi nodded and stalked away.

 

***

 

Since Tanga died, Ahadi had looked to Mohatu as his shining example.  Shaka, however, retreated more and more into the playful and jovial patterns of his mother.  He took it to extremes that would have shocked her.

Thwarted in his attempt to be like Mano, Ahadi walked along quietly and somberly, looking for something to do.  He wondered if he had done anything wrong the day before—if he had spoiled his chance with a word or action that was not befitting a young prince.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Shaka boomed.

“Oh nothing.”

“Want to play Rag Tag?”

“Not really.  But how about King Commands?”

Shaka’s ears flattened.  “No thanks!  I know how you play--YOUR MAJESTY.”

“Fine, be that way!  If you could beat me, you’d want to play--LOSER!”

Ahadi stalked off in a huff.  He really did not feel like playing but he was too awake to go back to napping.  Somehow, some way, he had to convince his father to take his offers seriously.  He had to be a good lion…no, he had to be a GREAT lion.  He had to be so good that there was no doubt he would spend eternity with his mother. 

As he trudged along, memories of Tanga came crowding over him, bowing his head and stooping his shoulders and making his tail droop.  He tried not to think of her, but once in a while his guard would drop and pain as sharp as an acacia thorn would stab his heart.  “Mother,” he muttered.  A tear formed in each eye, then the two tried to race to the bottom of his cheeks.  “I wish you were here right now.”

“Whatcha doin, Hawdy??”

It was Akase.  Ahadi did not cringe.  He’d begun to find Akase’s attentions a little flattering and he needed a friend at the moment.  He quickly dried his face before she could notice.  “Oh nothing, but come on anyway.”

“I thought you were going to go pee with your Dad.”

“Well, he…hey, it’s called BORDER PATROL.”

“Oh.”  She looked down.  “Same thing.”

“It’s an important job,” Ahadi said.

“Then why aren’t ya doing it?”

“Well, he….”

Before he could be forced into an embarrassing explanation, Moshana spotted them and called, “Hey kids, come here quickly!  Look, it’s a spider.”

He jumped at the chance to change the subject and came at once.  Ahadi and Akase drew close and looked at it. 

“It's spinning a web,” Ahadi said.  "How does it do that?"

                "They pass down the knowledge the way I teach you to hunt,” Moshana said. 

Akase reached out with a paw as if to pluck the threads of silk.

“Don't touch it,” Moshana warned.  “They bite."

                "It couldn't hurt much," Akase said.

                "Yes it could.  Spiders are poisonous.  You could even die."

                "Die?  Like prey?” Akase asked.  “Can lions die?"

                "You remember your brother?  Little Alili?  He died.  So did Tang…”  Moshana saw Ahadi’s glance drop to the ground.  “Every life has a beginning and an end."

                "Even....yours?"

                "Yes.  Someday I will die.  But not for a long time."

                "What happens when we die?" Akase asked.

                "I've never been there, but there is a place we go.  A happy place where we will be glad to go.  No one has ever returned from that place, but all the stories tell us how wonderful it is there.  To be close to Aiheu and Mano and Minshasa and....oh....to see your grandmother again.  You never knew her but she was kindness itself.  And Ahadi’s mom Tanga."

                "My mom,” Ahadi said in a soft, reverent voice.  “That’s who I want to see.  Why don't we go there now, Moshana?  Why can't we go now while we're alive?"

                The mother laughed.  "It's all part of the great circle of life.  Wherever you are, that is where you wish to be.  When you are here, you like it here.  When it is time to die and move on, you look forward to being with Aiheu.  That's the way we were made.  To be happy to be right where we are when we're there, then when it's time to go, happy to leave."

                "That's kind of neat, isn't it?" Ahadi said.

                "Yes it is.  Aiheu knows what he is doing, my cub."  She looked at him meaningfully, then nuzzled him.  “You know, you really should play more and you should be easier on your young friends.  Someday you will be a lion and this part of your life will be gone.  I know as a cub you look forward to the importance of being an adult, and that’s ok.  Maybe you think you have to be strong now for your father.  But as an adult when you are tired and discouraged you look back at your cubhood.  What will you remember, Ahadi?  That you spent your whole young life wishing it away?”

                Ahadi looked down.  “It’s not like that, Moshana.”

                “Isn’t it?”  She nuzzled him softly.  “Isn’t one Mano enough?  By all means learn your lessons and watch your father’s example.  But if your friends want to play Rag Tag, maybe you should play Rag Tag…while there’s still time.”

                “Yeah.”  Ahadi looked genuinely relieved.  “I love you, Moshana.”

                “I love you too.” 

 

 

CHAPTER 8:  AKASE’S WOES

 

                Ahadi purposefully, carefully moved one paw at a time to avoid making the slightest sound as he crept past the cave where Moshana slept with her tiny fur-bearing pest.  He had to make the perilous journey to the waterhole and freedom without his mother’s watchful eye and especially without the clinging attention of the infamous golden mite.

                Sometimes he needed a little time alone, and those precious moments were few and far between in pride life.  Just to be alone and sit for a while and do absolutely nothing and have absolutely no one to do it with.  Maybe he would bat stones in the water or check out the pugmarks in the soft mud to see who was out last night.  Perhaps….

                As he quietly, cautiously picked his way past the cleft in the rock, a couple of eyes peeked out and spotted him.  Quietly, carefully, the smaller cub gamboled along behind, interested in this new game.  The two of them traveled gently over the land, not stirring a rock or brushing against a leaf.  Then when Akase couldn’t stand it anymore, she whispered, “Whatcha doin, Hawdy?”

                “Shhhh,” he said, “She’ll hear you!”

                “Who?”

                His ears laid flat and he slowly looked around.  “Oh, hi, Cassie.”

                “Where are we goin?”

                “To the watering hole, if you can keep it down.”

                “Does your mamma know?”

                “Yeah,” Moshana asked sleepily.  “DOES your mamma know?”

                The lioness emerged from the cave, yawned, stretched, then looked at the two cubs.  “It’s DANGEROUS out there alone.  You stay here till you have an adult to go with you.”

                “Yes ma’am,” Ahadi said with grudging politeness.

                “So you run along now and be a good boy.”

                “Yes ma’am.”  He turned to go back uphill, and Akase started to follow him.

                “And YOU, little lady, need a good bath.”

                The cub was plucked up in Moshana’s powerful jaws and carried helplessly back toward the cave.

                “Hawdy, come back!” she squealed in a high, plaintive voice.

                “I can’t” he said.  “Your mom told me to run along.”

               

***

 

                After her bath Akase looked for Ahadi.  She thought he had gone—she did not know he was carefullyhiding from her.  So she looked for other lions to pester instead.

                Bweto was old and rather cranky at the best of times.  Still when Akase shook her from a sound sleep, she resisted her impulse to drop the cub off the edge of Pride Rock.

                “Whatcha doin, Bweto?”

                She opened one eye.  “I was sleeping,” she said as patiently as she could.

                “Do you know any games?”

                “I never learned any,” Bweto said.  “You ought to find someone else.”

                “Who?”

                Bweto’s other eye opened in a flash of irritation, but she soon smiled.  “Do I get to pick?  Let’s see…Daramu is good at games, and it’s about time she had to teach you some.”

                “Ok, thanks!”

                “No problem.”  Bweto smiled and closed her eyes.

                Moments before Bweto would have lapsed into sleep, she heard her name cried out in anger.  “Uh oh!”  She rose, stretched, and quickly made her way down the rock.

                Daramu came to the spot and looked around.  “At least she had enough sense to beat a quick retreat.  Honey Tree, why don’t you find Ahadi?  He likes to play games with you.”

                “I can’t find him,” Akase said.

                “I know.  Make a game out of looking for him.  And if you find him, you win.”

                “And if I don’t find him?”

                “Then I win.  Now run along and let your auntie sleep, ok?”

               

***

 

                Akase was more adventurous than usual in scouring Pride Rock for any sign of her precious “Hawdy.”  She took quite a few risks, heading into parts of the rock where no one ever goes to rest.  In one particular spot, she managed to stumble over a small stone.

                There were insects under the rock.  “Oooo, neato!”

                She found to her delight that another rock turned over had similar results.  Only these insects had a metallic luster and shone different colors in the sun.

                How many different kinds of bug could she find!  Ah, something to do at last!

                As she experimented with different rocks, she found to her delight that the larger ones hid a greater variety of insects.  A couple even had small lizards under them.  Akase squealed with delight.

                One large flat stone looked very promising.  Though she could not lift it straight up, she thought she could shove it over to the side.

                She pushed and shoved with all her might, and in fact the stone budged.

                There was no rush of insects, however.  She expected something for her trouble.

                She shoved even harder.  This time, the rock slid over, revealing the moist ground below.

                It had covered a large snake!

                Akase was taken aback.  She thought the snake would run away, but instead it coiled up and looked right in her eyes with its own unblinking stare.

                “Momma, momma, momma!” she cried, running back toward her cave.

                Moshana was asleep, but she had a mother’s sensitivity.  She’d heard her daughters cries of frustration and anger, and even the whine of disappointment.  But she heard the hard edge of fear and her eyes sprang open at once.

                “What’s wrong, Honey Tree?  Are you all right??”

                “There’s a snake on the rock!  I saw it!”

                “Where??” 

                Akase knew she was in trouble.  “Oh someplace.  I can’t remember.”

                “But you must.  I have to know.”

                “Well,” Akase said slowly.  “Maybe by the overlook.  In the little rocks?”

                “You KNOW that’s dangerous.  You KNOW I told you that was off limits.”

                Moshana ran quickly to the place, hardly waiting for her daughter to arrive.  She stared at the ground, and soon caught sight of the serpent trying to make its way to cover.

                Moshana circled about the wary snake, watching the reptile follow her every move.  “Don’t come any closer, Akase.  Not one step!”

                “I won’t.”

                “I’ll have to go around…look for a chance…wait for an opening…the snake is rather dull…I think I’ve got it right where I want it…just a few more paces and…”

                Moshana’s paw shot down and whacked the snake behind the head.  Her claws extended and pierced the serpent, drawing a crimson stream from its scaled body.

                “I hate to do that,” she said.  “They are hunters like us.  But I don’t know my poisonous snakes, and I can’t tell one from the other.  Can’t take the chance.”

                Moshana took the snake which was writhing spasmodically and slung it over the side of the rock.  For a moment she showed her relief, then her attention turned to her daughter.

                “Come with me, Akase.”

                “I’m sorry, Momma!”

                “NOW, Akase.”

 

***

 

                Moshana kept silence as she descended Pride Rock with her frightened daughter in tow.  The lionesses knew that look—they watched Akase pass with a slightly self-righteous nod.  The little “angel” was finally going to get what she so richly deserved.

                Ahadi peeked out of the cleft where he had hidden himself.  He knew the look only too well, and he felt sorry for Akase.  After all, if he’d only kept watch over her, she probably wouldn’t have gotten in trouble.  He left the crack and fell in behind Akase to offer her some moral support, but Moshana looked around and said in her gentle but firm voice, “We need our privacy.  Go home, honey tree.”

                They walked under the shadow of the promontory, headed out toward the watering hole.  “Mother, you always cuff me at the bottom of the rock.”

                “I know.”

                “Whatcha goin to do to me?”

                “You’ll see.”

                In a horrified voice, Akase asked, “I’m not being bandied from the pride am I?”

                “Bandied?”  Moshana had to think for a moment.  “No, you’re not being banished.”

                Akase ran ahead and looked into her mother’s eyes.  “You do still love me, don’t you?”

                Moshana’s ears went back.  Her calm voice had a slight edge on it.  “What a thing to say!  You’re my child, the life I carried next to my own for three moons—of course I do.” 

                They stopped by the waterhole and cautiously headed through the mudflat to the water.  “Now then,” Moshana said, stick your paw in the water.  Watch it carefully.”

                Akase wondered if this would be some new kind of cuffing.  She held up her tail and braced herself for the impact, but it never came.

                “Now take your paw out of the water and watch the ripples.  Tell me what you see.”

                Akase complied.  “They’re round,” she said timidly.

                “How deep a hole did it leave when you pulled your paw out?”

                “None—I think.”

                Moshana leaned down to look right into her eyes.  “If you’re always making people angry, that’s how much they will miss you when your gone.”

                Akase’s ears went flat.  “Yes ma’am.”

                 “Honey Tree, you know I love you, don’t you?  That snake could have bitten you and you’d be dead by now.  I’d be taking your little body out to the eastern meadow for the scavengers and there would be no more bedtime stories or games to play or…”  Tears welled up in Moshana’s eyes and she lowered her head.  “Would you want to do that to me?  Don’t you know how many nights I lay awake worrying about what’s going to happen to you?”

                “Oh mother!”  Akase bounded up and buried her muddy paws in the fur of her mother’s neck, rubbing and nuzzling her urgently.  “I’ll be good!  I promise!”

                “That’s all I ask.  You don’t have to be a little Minshasa, but you could try to be just a little better.”

                “I’ll be a LOT better,” Akase said tearfully.

                Moshana said softly, “Oh look, honey tree, you have some mud on you!”

                “Where?”

                “There!”  Moshana sprang back and splashed water all over Akase with her paw.  “Snake girl, snake girl, nyah nyah na nyah nyah!”

                “RRRROWWWRRRR!”  Akase began splashing her mother with both paws.  From the safety of the reeds, Ahadi looked at them and smiled.

 

 

 

                Akase bounded along beside the old mandrill.  “What is it?”

“It’s a surprise.  If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore.”

“But that’s a secret!  This is supposed to be a surprise!”

“You little conniver!  Just like your mother when she was your age!”  Rafiki laughed.

“Is it good to eat?  Or at least fun to play with?”

“Well actually it’s right over there!  Surprise!”

Akase looked and looked but did not know what the surprise was.  When it was painfully obvious she had no clue about the surprise, Rafiki went right to the spindly little plant and touched it.  “It’s your breadfruit tree!”

“Well…I suppose.”  She did not want to look disappointed but she was at a loss knowing what to do with a breadfruit tree.  “Thanks.”

 “This is not just any breadfruit tree,” he added.  “I planted it the day you were born.  This tree and you are exactly the same age.  And by an old custom of my people I will come here when the tree bears its first flowers and weave them into a wreath to put on your head to celebrate your coming of age.”

“Coming of age?”

“That means all grown up.  Ready to be a queen.  Ready to be a mighty huntress like your mom.”

“Oh!”  She showed the first hint of understanding his gesture.

“It’s your tree, but since you will never eat any of it, I will see it does not go to waste.  And whenever I come here to pick its fruit I will say a prayer for my friend Akase.”  He sat beside the tree and gently put his arm around her shoulder, cuddling her till she rubbed against him and kissed him. 

“Long, long ago before your mother was a cub or her mother was even born there was a mandrill we call Little Brother Koko.  Koko was in love with the beautiful Neema, daughter of the village chief.  But Koko, who was a bit of a rascal, was not liked very much by the chief and so when Koko asked to marry Neema her father said NO.”

“That was mean!”

“Not really.  He loved his daughter and wanted her to have a good husband that would love her.  He was not sure Koko would be good to her.”

“But he was good wasn’t he?” Akase said.

“In his own way, yes.  He wanted to be a good husband that would love her and he wanted some way to prove his love for Neema was pure and true.  And that is when the chief thought of the most impossible test he could imagine.  He told Little Brother Koko that he could marry Neema the day the dead breadfruit tree blossomed.  And because this was well nigh impossible he was sure his word was final.”

“I bet Koko was sad.”

“Maybe for a moment.  But Koko was rather clever.  That night by the moon’s light he took blossoms from other trees and glued them to the dead tree’s branches with dwe-dwe resin.  And you can imagine how the chief looked when he saw the dead tree in bloom!  So he said that the gods must have shown favor to Koko and he had the chief priest marry the two lovers.”

“That’s neat!” Akase said.  “Do you know another monkey story?”

Rafiki laughed.  “Monkey story?  Well, my dear, this one is not quite finished.  For the old priest was not stupid and when the blossoms withered and dropped off he knew he was tricked and he was VERY ANGRY.  He told his guards to put Koko to death.”

“Oh, that’s awful!”

“It would have been.  But my little honey tree, Neema’s love was sure and her heart was brave and she fell across Koko and told the guards they must kill her instead.  That she would die for his crime.”

Akase’s eyes opened wide.  “She must have really loved him.”

“She did.  And Koko really loved her too for he pushed her away and insisted that the crime was his and she should not die for his crime.  And it was then that the chief knew Koko and Neema loved each other with a special love, a beautiful love that deserved to live and grow.”  Rafiki hugged the lioness cub and kissed her small round face.  “Someday when I put that crown of blossoms on your head, I will pray that God gives you a happy life and beautiful cubs of your own.”

 

***

 

Akase was fascinated by the story of Koko and Neema and she made it a daily ritual to come look up the seedling and ask Moshana if it was any taller.  Moshana mother would nod and say that it was really climbing up there.

                After a while, Akase figured out that she couldn’t see the day to day growth—it was as frustratingly slow as her own maturation.  By the time she was four months old, she began to feel it would never have blossoms and she stopped coming and left it to Aiheu. 

                As if it missed her visits, the tree withered and died.  Rafiki felt it was only due to an infestation of beetles, but he knew it would not be wise to let the pitiable stalk remain like a bad omen.  One night of the new moon he headed out with another breadfruit sapling, this one taller by half again.  He planted it and kept watch over it, watering it and tending it as Moshana cared for her growing daughter.

                The rains came, a long miserable time when no one did anything more than they absolutely had to do.  While Akase huddled in the cave next to Ahadi the tree soaked up the moisture and shot up even higher and stronger.  The strength enabled it to stoically endure the dry season and by the next rainy season it was no longer a sapling but a young tree.  Buds had formed on the branches with the promise of fragrant blossoms.

                The changes in Ahadi and Akase were even more clearly evident and they were full of promise as well.  They both still had cub spots, though they were hard to see except on Akase’s long, shapely back legs.  A ruff around Ahadi’s face and neck began to give him an appearance he referred to as “distinguished,” but which young Yolanda called “scruffy.” 

                How much that bit of ruff affected Ahadi’s self image Akase was beginning to learn.  She began to take a long, serious look at her future mate and she was not sure she liked what she saw.

 

***

 

                Akase saw Shaka’s eyes sparkling with mischief.  She knew he had figured out most of her moves and that he felt himself invulnerable to her pounces.

                “You think you’re so hot,” she said with a smirk, her tail lashing.

                “Come on, girl!  Make your move!  You know I’ll win!”

                Despite his taunting, Akase loved Shaka as a dear friend and knew he loved her too.  Whether or not she won at wrestling, she always had fun trying.  Shaka’s behavior, like a dedou fruit, had improved with age, and she had begun to enjoy his company much more than being with the once awe-inspiring “Hawdy.” 

                The slightest grin formed at the corners of her ebony mouth.  Akase still had trouble hiding her intentions from her adversary.

                She sprang at Shaka and was surprised when he ducked so quickly back.  How could he have known?  How was it possible??

                Before she could regain her footing, he was upon her, putting his strong forearm around her, trying to throw her off balance.

                “Gonna getcha!” Shaka taunted her.