Some short stories
TAILS OF
Murder, mayhem and sex in darkest
Compiled By John Lunn
CONTENTS
Chapter One: THE LION 5
Chapter Two: THE APE 11
Chapter Three: THE ELEPHANT 15
Chapter Four: THE HYENA 17
Chapter Five THE CIVET 23
Chapter Six THE RAVEN 28
Chapter Seven THE ORYX 36
These stories have been collected from a number of different sources; some just whispered around campfires, others broadcast on the bush telegraph, a few from biblical sources, and some have their basis in scientific research.
THE DICE ARE CAST AND YOU LOT IS DETERMINED
THE HUNTERS ARE THE CARNIVORS THE COLLECTORS AND THE HERBIVORS (THE HERBS) AND THE HOI POLLOI THE OTHER PEOPLE
CHAPTER ONE
THE LION
‘In the beginning’
Al Haidara, the rugged old lion (Panthera leo) had only encountered one human as far as he could remember. It was a long time ago when he was in his prime. A time when his muscles rippled across his shoulders as he turned his head to survey his domain, and test the air for any scent of game. There were no scars then, and his bones did not ache.
There had been a long dry period, and much of his normal prey had moved on, in search of better grazing and water. The lion had survived on the occasional small animal, which had not been quick enough to escape his powerful paws. As the drought extended, and he could not smell any on-coming rain, his ribs started to show through his skin, and the normal honey sheen of his coat was lost to dirty mustard. He knew that he would have to move out to the boundaries of his normal range, in search of food.
The first indication of the human was the scent. It was different to any smell that he had experienced before. There was only the faintest of a breeze towards the lion, as he crouched a little lower in the long dry grass. But as he tilted his head up slightly he could confirm that the human was heading his way, and because the lion was down wind from the human, the human would have no warning of his presence.
The second indication was the sound of the approaching human, it was very slow and noisy compared to the lion’s usual prey, and the lion found this a little unsettling.
The lion crouched lower in the dry grass, satisfied that the human was heading straight towards him, and the human had no idea that a large lion, in its prime, was directly twenty metres in front. The lion moved its hips slowly from side to side, pushing his hind legs a little deeper into the sandy soil between the tussocks of grass. The main thrust of his pounce would come from his stronger front legs. But he wanted to be sure that the push off from his back legs would be from a stable foundation, and not make his leap unbalanced. The lion had learned this and other lessons from previous hunts.
The lion flattened his ears, and lowered his head; he did not need to see the human. The sound and smell were clear evidence that the human was then directly ten metres in front. The lion suppressed a low roar in its throat as the excitement of his senses pumped adrenalin into his muscles. All of the lion’s muscles became hard as he compressed them; coiled like tight springs, waiting for the release of the trigger that would fire them into action.
The lion was a little uneasy, the human was now only two metres away, and still showed no indication that the human was aware of the lion.
The lion slowly raised its head, with each movement of the long grass caused by the slight breeze. The lion’s eyes narrowed as the human came clearly into sight. The human was about the size of an antelope with no horns, but it carried a large stick with a sharp point. Now the human saw the lion, and as much as the lion’s eyes narrowed, the human’s eyes expanded with the white surrounds more apparent. The human stopped and slowly pointed the sharp pointed stick at the lion. This was a new experience for the lion. But what was not new was the scent of fear that the human gave off. This was a familiar scent to the lion, and confirmed his intent. The human pushed the long pointed stick towards the lions face. This irritation was quickly removed with one quick swipe of his powerful paw with the large claws unsheathed. The long sharp pointed stick disappeared into the grasses. The lions tail flicked from side to side, he was waiting for the human to move.
This movement would be the trigger for his muscles. The scent of the fear of the human became more intense, as it soiled itself with urine. The human made three quarters of a turn, and launched itself into flight.
The trigger had been pulled, and the lion hit the human in the middle of its back, and the lion’s jaws engulfed the human’s head and right shoulder.
The weight of the lion pushed the human straight to the ground; the lion tightened its’ jaw, the human skull cracked, and the limbs convulsed.
The lion shook the human from side to side until the tremors of the body ceased. He dropped the kill to the grass, and placed his right paw across the legs as he ripped into the chest and stomach. It was not a large meal, but sufficient for a few days. The hyenas, wild pigs, hornets and ants enjoyed their turn and the residue, until no trace was left.
The rains had come, the grazing in his home range had improved, the river flowed near his cave and the lion returned to his home.
‘The reawakening’
Apsonsi, the lioness that lived in the land north of the border was from a proud heritage, and she did not feel at peace. The lions in her country watched her graceful movements, her flashing eyes, her lithe body and they hungered for her. But the lions in the land north of the border are scared of this lioness; Apsonsi is too clever for them. They do not understand her needs for a soul to mate with; she treats them with distain.
Apsonsi travelled far and wide, she sensed that somewhere in the world, on some veldt; there was a soul with whom she can mate; and feel the peace that her body and mind are hungry to find.
Apsonsi travelled to the Great Southern Plain, where she had heard of Al Haidara, a rugged lion who lived in a cave above the great river. Reputedly he was a lion whose eyes lit up like coals in a fire, and mention of his name caused fear across the plains.
The rugged lion had twice been gravely wounded, and he thought that he was in the winter of his life, his bones cold, passions a faded memory. The rugged lion emerged only occasionally from his cave to show the pride the wisdom that came with the years. He still dominated the young lions with his presence, but he knew that the wounds had taken their toll on him, and that although his spirit was strong his flesh was so weak he was embarrassed.
Al Haidara first saw Apsonsi as she emerged from the bush next to the fast flowing river that was still in flood. In one fluid movement she slipped into the torrent disappearing into the raging yellow, brown water. Al Haidara had his interest slightly piqued by this interloper. He wondered if she would get caught in the many snags, caused by the drowned trees and shared their fate, or would she emerge. He watched the various whirlpools that formed which were swept along by the fierce current. She did not appear, and he shook his head slightly at the foolishness of her quest. But her fate was of no concern to him, and at least the crocodiles further down the river would have something to occupy their meagre minds and large appetites.
But she surfaced at last, in a patch of still water, just up-river of a large tree that had fallen from the bank, half submerged with its root ball still entangled in the river edge. Apsonsi stretched up her front legs, grasped the tree, and with one powerful heave of her shoulders dragged all of her body up onto the fallen tree. She paused for a moment to catch her breath, then after a series of short jumps landed on the bank of the river just below the
Apsonsi looked around her, and raised her nose to check for any scents.
She was down wind from his cave, and did not get any hint of his immediate presence. But there was enough of his territory marking for her to know she was close to a powerful male lion.
Apsonsi shook her head from side to side to clear some of the water from her ears, the reflex continuing down her body, becoming more vigorous through her body to her tail, which whipped backwards and forwards to repel the evidence of her close encounter with the flooded river. She then rolled on her back, wriggling her body deep into the sand and then standing up shook off the sand that she had used to dry herself.
She again lifted her nose to the wind and checked for scents. The subtle breeze carried her perfume to Al Haidara. Apsonsi was in season; she needed a mate, but only one that was worthy of her, and her needs.
Before he realised, he announced his presence with a roar that belied his years, his hormones still had an influence over his behaviour. He had not mated for years, keeping his distance from the pride, as he cultivated his image as the lawgiver, and harsh statesman rather than a stud lion.
Apsonsi’s eyes narrowed and focussed on the source of the challenge. She did not hesitate, and moved slowly, but with confidence to the sandy platform in front of the
He opened his eyes, she was still there gazing off into the distance, a small smile on her face, that was so beautiful it caused him to breathe deeply through his nose his senses reeled, and he felt intoxicated.
He felt himself slowly smile as he acknowledged the game he was playing. He laughed very quietly at his juvenile attempts to ignore her presence and a vanity that wanted to capture her attentions.
Apsonsi turned her head towards him in response to his laugh, closing her eyes slowly as she smiled more. She pushed herself slowly up from the sand with her powerful front paws first, then her long elegant back legs. She shook her head slowly as if emerging from a sleep, walking slowly around him, getting closer each time. Apsonsi noted the deep scars on his sides and shoulder, but she did not see the imperfections in him that he did. Apsonsi saw the badges of honour, the scars of a warrior.
Her ears brushed lightly against his skin as it rippled at this most meagre of contacts. Apsonsi pushed her nose into the small depression under his ear and inhaled his scent. Al Haidara took one of her ears into his mouth, biting down gently, and shaking her very lightly, as if to tell her to come to her senses. He was a rugged old lion; she was perfect in form, and in her prime. He released his grip on her, and she continued to circle him rubbing her face into the muscles of his sides and shoulders. When she came to his scars she paused, gently running her tongue along each scar, pressing her soft lips to them as if to kiss away the hurt.
The lioness from north of the border flirted with him, she flicked her tail beneath the nose of the rugged lion, and he roared with laughter and at the impudence of this beautiful kitten. The rugged lion felt something that he had not felt before; her musky smell was exotic, she excited his senses and re-vitalised his body. Not only was this lioness from north of the border clever, beautiful and exciting she had the power to heal.
The warmth of her eyes, the warmth of her body as they caressed each others soul warmed the bones of the rugged lion and he felt the strength of years long gone. Al Haidara tried to maintain his dignified pose, and failed. Apsonsi was pressing her head against his lower ribs, and he moved slightly onto his side as she insinuated her lips and tongue to his lower loins, the warmth of her breath and moist lips exciting a passion that he thought a distant memory that would never be experienced again. The lioness rubbed her face up his stomach and his chest, and then caught his ear lightly with her teeth. She released his ear and crouched down on all fours just in front of her lion. Apsonsi remained motionless, apart from very slowly moving her tail from side to side to show her lion her inflamed passion. The lion raised himself slowly and walked forward until his head was above hers and his legs straddled her prone body. He opened his mouth wide and bit down into the muscle of the lioness that joined her shoulder to her neck. Apsonsi was in his power, she knew and she welcomed it.
Slowly they mated, the honey coated lioness from north of the border and the rugged lion from the Great Southern Plain. They were at peace and asleep with their limbs entwined, a deeper sleep than they had before.
They woke eager to look into each other’s eyes, seeing into the depths of their minds. They woke eager to feel their passion rise in their bodies, and to satisfy their hunger for each other.
They were at peace the lioness from north of the border and the rugged lion from the Great Southern Plain.
For many days and nights they roamed the plains, shared the cave and hunted together. Apsonsi knew that in many ways she was more powerful that Al Haidara, but she was careful not to show her superior speed and agility.
He was at peace, the winter of his years being banished and the autumn ones now as golden as the noonday sun.
There was complete fulfilment for this rugged lion and he thought the same for his lioness.
But Apsonsi was not his lioness; she was only of herself, beholden to no one and no thing. Al Haidara became aware of this one morning as he awoke and moved out of their cave. The prevailing winds from the West had changed. Replaced by a slight, but strengthening wind from the North.
Apsonsi was pacing backwards and forwards across the sand in front of their cave, her nose lifted into the wind to catch the messages from the North. Her lion walked towards her and with his eyes interrogated her soul. He knew then that it was not their cave it was his cave, she was not his lioness and he was not her lion. Al Haidara roared his pain once and then just watched as Apsonsi walked regally down to the river, jumping in, swimming swiftly to the other side. He saw a brief glimpse as she moved through the bush and headed towards the source of the north wind, never looking back carrying his seed to a fate that he would never know.
The rugged lion looks at the clouds and saw them change into the shape of the graceful lioness, and then the wind moved the shape into another place. Al Haidara stands, and allows the sun to warm his bones.
That day was no surprise to the rugged old lion he smiles a sad smile, looks to the clouds, taken by the fickle winds and feels the weak winter sun give little comfort to his bones, but he gives thanks to his Gods for the time that he shared with Apsonsi and has no regrets, he has to be Al Haidara.
CHAPTER TWO
THE APE
Gorilla gorilla, are found in the equatorial forests of
‘Murder in the jungle’
Emsea the paramount female was woken by the screeching alarm calls from the sentry. Shaking the sleep from her head she quickly adopted a defensive posture, ready to launch an attack, using teeth and nails to defend herself, and her family group. The dense treetops became a cacophony of shrieks, breaking branches and the roars of her mate Ohad, the silver back of the family. She saw only brief glimpses of his silver back as he rushed from one front to another, checking where the threat was greatest, smashing aside thick branches to allow him the space needed to fight off the attackers. Ohad was not the leader of the family for scant reasons, and the attackers quickly realised their choice of target was not the best. They started to withdraw carrying with them the marks of his strength and ferocity. As they retreated they howled challenges that they hoped would be ignored. They were not, he gathered the family to him, and they set off in pursuit. He was determined that the attackers would be driven far beyond the range of their current territory. All of the family followed where he led, all of them except two, the paramount female, and the newly born son of Ohad and his youngest consort, Jareel. The status and stature of the Emsea meant that she was left to guard the nursery, while the baby’s mother, father, aunts and cousins set off to counter attack.
The new son had been a source of great rejoicing in the family. It had been a long time since there had been any young in the family, and Emsea, although chosen by the leader had not mothered any of his progeny.
Emsea glanced down into the rude bed in which the young baby slept, apparently oblivious to all that had taken place. He slept with one of his fingers in his mouth, his face all wrinkled and pink. She reached into the nest that Jareel had built the day before, gently stroking the fine hair on his side. She looked around her putting her head on one side listening for any sound of the family. There was none, she firmly grasped the right leg of the baby, checking again for any sounds that might announce the return of the baby’s mother. Slowly Emsea pulled the baby towards her, easing her left hand under his upper body and head. He stirred slightly as she brought him close to her huge muscular chest. With the fingers of her right hand she pulled his finger from his mouth, his eyes flickering as he mewed this loss of succour. Again Emsea tilted her head to listening for the sounds of her family, sniffing the air to catch any hint of their return.
There was none, and she moved the baby’s mouth to her nipple and lightly pressed his head to her breast. His instinct took over and he gently mouthed her nipple trying to encourage the flow of milk. Emsea moved his head in gentle circles trying to help him encourage a flow from the well that was dry. His sucking became more urgent, as he pulled at her nipple, it felt as if he were pulling on a hot string that was connected from her nipple, though her reproductive organs down to her vagina. Each drawing of the string made all her female parts warm and sensitised, but at the same time playing a haunting empty tune in her soul.
She did not want to stop, but she also did not want to torture him with her dry breasts. She pulled him slowly and firmly from her nipple and laid him on the side of the nest. As Emsea pulled him away he seemed to take with him the essence of her femininity. With her teeth she quickly pulled large tufts of hair from her arms and spread them in the bottom of the nest before she laid him on her down and replaced his finger in his mouth.
The family was returning. Emsea turned away from the baby and took up a defensive posture nearby. The first to return was Jareel she quickly went to her nest picked her baby up bringing him to her nose and sniffing him all over. She looked quickly at Emsea her eyes opening wide for a second and then averting her gaze. Jareel cradled her baby to her breast, and as he fed she used her other hand to pick Emsea’s hair from the nest and dropped it to the ground.
The Ohad returned to the family and quickly scouted around for any sign of the attackers. Satisfied that they were all gone, he went slowly around each member of his clan and smelling their scents and checking their presence. He paused briefly by his son and roughly rolled him around the nest. Ohad’s son was a great source of pride to him, but he would not show any softness in his treatment of him in case this was interpreted as a sign of any weakness.
When he checked Emsea he smelled that she was in season and gave the sign and sounds for her to adopt the appropriate posture so that he would mate with her. She did quickly and willingly, pleased that he had noticed, and wanted to service her. She knew that part of the reason was a reaction to the attack and he needed to confirm his status as the silver back, but she was eager to serve him and embrace his seed deep within her. The mating did not last long, but Emsea was very satisfied that her status was reinforced, and that the family’s silver back had not denied her.
Attacks on the clan became more and more frequent, as food in the greater area became increasingly scarce, the drought sucking life out of all living things. Most often during the attacks, Emsea carried out the guarding duties for the nursery and its one baby.
Each time Emsea would cradle him to her breast and his suckling would cause her to lactate. She was mystified by these phenomena at first, but then just felt fulfilled at being able to satisfy his need for warmth and succour. Each time Jareel came back to the nest and reclaimed her baby, she would wipe her baby’s mouth and fill it with her own breast trying to eradicate the scent of Emsea. Whenever this happened Emsea would ignore the stares of Jareel and go in search of food.
The body of Emsea started to experience some other changes. She started to gain weight and the family became excited with the realisation that Emsea was pregnant. Their silver back had sired another baby.
The excitement was tempered by the concerns about the attacks on the family and, although no serious injuries had been inflicted there was increasing disquiet that was being compounded by the increasingly obvious effects of malnutrition on them all.
The next attack came just as daylight was fading, and from three directions. This time Emsea was directed to use her strength and experience to help repel and pursue the attackers. One of the youngest females was left to guard the nursery. The noise of the fights, the lack of light, and all the alien scents worried the young guard. She heard a very loud distress call asking for her help, and she rushed to where she thought she was needed.
She found no attackers, no members of her family needing urgent help. She slowly retraced her track to the nest.
Her horrified shrieks brought all the family back to the nest where they gathered around, joining in her distress. In the bottom of the nest lay their baby. The baby’s head had been smashed against a nearby tree and large bites made into his head and chest. Remnants of his brain and viscera stained the nest.
Jareel lifted him to her breast hoping that the warmth of her body and tears would heal his wounds, and that she would again feel him feeding from her breasts. It did not heal him; Jareel did not feel him feeding.
CHAPTER THREE
THE ELEPHANT
Bausi is a very large bull-elephant (Loxodonta Africana) that had inherited his large imposing physique from his father’s side of the gene pool. Sadly he had inherited his intelligence from his ‘blonde’ mother’s very shallow end. He is now the leader of the small herd, his father being an unwilling donator of his great ivory tusks to poachers, and his carcass to carrion. It was often said, by the matriarchs of the herd, that Bausi was a full acacia tree short of a picnic, as they stood and shook their heads slowly from side to side, pondering the future of the herd.
Bausi main pastime apart from eating was posing. He would select a hillock that would enable him to show his profile against the sky and allow the herd and others to admire him, and wonder at his philosophical pondering. The purpose of his cogitation was most often: “Do I eat grass or do I eat acacia trees, do I eat grass or do I eat acacia trees?” For Bausi this is the meaning of life and most often simply resolved by whatever was closest at the time.
Elephants have an extremely keen sense of smell that helps organize their society. When they mark their territories, the spoor that they leave provides sets of complex codes, that for each of them is unique, providing the ‘reader’ with details of the gender, age, status and abilities.
Elephants depend on their long, sensitive noses for clues about mating,
The male elephant uses its trunk to sniff the urine of females before touching the tip to the roof of his mouth, transferring a bit of the urine to the vomeronasal organ, a foot-long chemical-sensing organ that is distinct from the elephant's regular sense of smell. The vomeronasal organ almost always has to do with sexual arousal, whereas the normal sense of smell is for food finding, territorial marking and other social and environmental cues.
Bausi although very large was not intellectually gifted, and perhaps because of this, only has a vestigial sensitivity in his vomeronasal organ. This is significant for the cows in Bausi’s herd for a couple of reasons. There is a protein in elephants called "odorant binding protein" that is released by the female after mating has occurred, and is a signal that the male no longer needs to be stimulated and should disengage. This protein tells male elephants when it's time to stop so they don't injure themselves or their mates. With Bausi’s lack of sensitivity in his vomeronasal organ and very large size in all other aspects, mating was a real danger as he would remain coupled with the cow until he was distracted, by food usually, and his weight on the back of the cows was a huge burden that made it difficult to just ‘think beige’.
After mating, the odorant binding protein acts like a scavenger, mopping up excess pheromone and effectively says ‘I’ve a headache’.
Normally this was not a major concern as Bausi was also not very alert to the mating signals from the cows and the pheromones in their urine.
However, a nubile cow wandered in front of Bausi and as he had recently eaten he went into a stimulus response mode, and decided that he should ‘slip her a quick one’. So far so good, but given his full stomach, lack of distractions, and sensitivity in his vomeronasal organ it was not a ‘quick one’ and his huge bulk caused the legs of the cow to buckle. She collapsed onto the ground dragging Bausi’s penis down with her. Pain was something strange to Bausi, especially in his nether regions. Pain is also a motivator to the basic survival instinct of ‘fight or flight’. Sadly neither was appropriate in this case, Bausi was able to realise that there was nothing to fight. But Bausi did not have the brain to work out that flight was not appropriate either. As the cow collapsed, both his front legs slipped off her back to her right side, and he lifted his left hind leg over her body, pivoting on his right hind leg.
Bausi was now facing in the opposite direction to the cow, and the additional pain in his, still coupled penis told him to flee. The sight of Bausi trying to stampede away, dragging the young cow behind him by his penis featured long in the considerable memories of the herd.
Many years later a group of poachers decided that Bausi should follow in his father’s footsteps and donate his tusks to their welfare. The techniques of the poachers included a group of them distracting the elephant from the front while one of them rush in under the elephant’s legs and with a sharp knife quickly severed the Achilles tendons of the elephant’s front legs, preventing the elephant from moving. The poachers distracted Bausi by waving sticks and making loud noises. One of the poachers rushed in to cut his tendons. At the same time as the poacher drew back his knife to make the first deep cut, Bausi’s intelligence, or lack there of, came to his assistance. Puzzled by the waving sticks and loud noises Bausi decided that he needed time to think about what to do and stepped back, and barely noticing it stepped on the poacher and squashed him flat and juicy into the dirt. The remaining poachers decided that Bausi was too clever and too strong for them and ran away. It was about a week later that Bausi was feeling slight discomfort in his front foot, when he was walking. The diagnosis was only the small remains of a ‘black head’ on the bottom of his foot and after it was brushed out, it did not cause him any more pain.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE HYENA
The hyenas (family Hyaenidae) look more like dogs, but in fact are more closely related to the cats and belong to the super-family Feloidea. The Striped Hyena (Hyaena hyaena) of parts of Asia and
According to John Connolly in his book ‘Every Dead Thing’: ‘Hyenas frequently have twins. The cubs are extremely well developed at birth: they have fur and sharp incisor teeth. One cub will almost invariably attack the other, sometimes while still in the amniotic sac and typically to the death. The victor is also usually female and, if she is the daughter of a dominant female, will in turn become the dominant female in the pack. It’s a matriarchal culture. Female hyena foetuses have higher levels of testosterone than adult males and the females have masculine characteristics, even in the womb. In adulthood the sexes can still be difficult to differentiate.’
The hyena was also revered by the ancient Egyptians, because it was fabled that a certain stone, called the ‘hyaenia’, is found in the eye of the hyena, and Pliny asserted that, when that stone was placed under a person’s tongue it imparted the gift of prophecy. This claim was supported by German lapidarists cited in ‘Historie of foure-footed Beasts’ (1607).
(Prey of the hyenas normally are Gazelle, Zebra, Wildebeest)
The ‘birth’ of Ayesha and Ustane was very traumatic and heavy with portend of future doom.
Their mother
The African Hunting Dogs (Lyctaon pictus) are savage predators. As a pack they can bring down a wildebeest, but even as an individual is still a formidable hunter.
Estan had been given instructions by
Estan heard
The pack of African Hunting dogs had no instructions, and they were not orders that they would have obeyed. The pack circled
The noise of the kill in progress reached Estan and he ran as fast as he could.
Navaite, was a female who also recently had a cub, that she was nursing when Estan arrived with Ayesha and Ustane. Estan dropped Ayesha and Ustane next to Navaite and gave her
Navaite suckled Ayesha and Ustane, but they were not her cubs, and although they used Navaite as a source of sustenance, she was never treated or respected as their mother by the twins.
Ayesha and Ustane grew quickly and treated with distain firstly the milk, and then the carrion that Navaite brought to them. Unlike the rest of the clan who would go on solitary hunts, Ayehsa and Ustane hunted together.
There appeared to be a telepathic connection between the two, each sensing the other’s moves. When they identified their prey, Ustane would move around and downwind, then slowly move towards their prey knowing that her scent would alert the prey, and in the majority of hunts cause it to flee away from her, directly into the waiting jaws of Ayesha.
Ustane was the slightly smaller of the two, and always did the stalking and driving.
Ayesha did the killing, and always ate first.
The strongest would always be the leader. Navaite was a large, strong female, and judged by many to still be in her physical prime. Ayesha and Ustane, although younger than Navaite were nearly the same size, but lacked the strength that came with full maturity.
Ayesha and Ustane ‘knew’ that the clan would not interfere in any dispute about the succession of clan leaders, and in fact the status of the victor would be enhanced by their success.
Navaite became pregnant by Estan, this was perhaps his way of making some sort of restitution for her cub that he had killed to ensure Ayesha and Ustane would survive. It was also Navaite’s right as the ‘matriarch’ of the clan with Etsan the leading male. If Navaite gave birth to a daughter, she in turn would become the matriarch of the clan. But this sequence of events seemed to cause Ayesha and Ustane no concerns, and it did not appear to occupy their minds at all.
When her pains became regular and frequent, Navaite wandered away from the clan, to find a safe, solitary place where her cub could be born.
It was solitary, but was not safe.
As Navaite squirmed in a sand depression, her body going into spasm to expel her cub; she smelled a familiar scent, and then a second.
The first and strongest was that of Ustane, and as Ustane walked slowly into view, Navaite uttered a warning for Ustane to keep away. Ustane started to circle Navaite coming closer each time ignoring the warnings. Navaite’s body spasms did not make it easy for her to keep her eyes on Ustane, but Navaite knew that she needed to see what Ustane was doing as low hunting growls accompanied her ever closing presence. For a split second Ustane disappeared from her view behind her, and in that instant Ustane had pounced and fastened her jaws tightly on one of Navaite’s ears. Ustane dug her claws into the sand and was pulling Navaite towards her, exposing her throat. That was the signal for Ayesha, whose approach had not been noticed until she pounced, and crushed the throat of Navaite. The remains of Navaite and her cub were soon devoured by the scavengers and the rule Ayesha and Ustane began.
All hyenas are courageous, but Ayesha was completely without fear, she ‘knew’ that no animal ever born could harm her. Ayesha assumed the mantle of clan matriarch, but was content to let Ustane resolve any minor clan disputes. Most often Ayesha stayed apart from the clan until she wanted Ustane to hunt with her or Ayesha had a need to remind the clan of her position and her authority. Death was the instrument that Ayesha used, either swift and ‘merciful’ or slow and painful. Mercy was not an emotion that was any part of Ayesha’s psyche, and she crushed the snout of an errant so that they could not feed. They slowly died of starvation until they were released from their torment by the scavengers; their lingering death a reminder of the consequences of dissent to all others.
A swift execution was an option exercised by Ayesha, when she felt that the victim might garner some sympathy within the clan if she granted them a lengthy demise.
It would have been reasonable to conclude that under the regime of Ayesha and Ustane that the clan numbers would soon fall, and their reign would have no purpose. But Ayesha added to the clan numbers by seeking out the matriarchs of other clans and using Ustane as the foil destroyed these matriarchs and added these clans to her own.
Ayesha also changed an important aspect of clan behaviour. No longer were the clan members allowed to hunt on their own, the clan hunted as a pack. The impact of the organisation of these courageous solitary hunters into a unit meant that the hunts were more successful, and the size of the prey greater. This meant that the clan members grew physically stronger, and their presence on the veldt sought by other weaker clans desiring the benefits of an alliance. Each alliance was bought with the blood of the weaker clan’s matriarch, Ayesha would not allow any possible threat to her position. The execution of each matriarch was never a solitary event, as Ustane would smell out any cubs of the matriarch, and Ayesha would crush their spines with her powerful jaws. There would never be any future challenges to Ayesha based on any clan members claim to a birthright.
Wildebeest were now the most favoured pray of Ayesha’s clan, not the sick, lame or solitary. The mature well fed and well muscled were the meal of choice. Ayesha organised the hunt so that when a herd of wildebeest had been located she would send out the swiftest clan members to run parallel to the flanks of the herd, running with the herd, but not approaching too close at first. As the herd slowed the fastest clan members would run down-wind ahead of the wildebeest, and draw the two flanks together. The congregation of wildebeest into a smaller space meant they had less room to manoeuvre, and quickly bumped into each other slowing them even further. The wildebeest could smell the hyenas ahead of them, and they would stop running towards this clear and present danger. This halt would further concentrate the herd, and add to their confusion. The first assault on them from the fast running scouts of the clan would start and this terrified them. The wildebeest herd would wheel around, and head back to where their run had started, with their heels being nipped to add further urgency to their flight. Up- wind Ayesha with the strongest and heaviest clan members waited. The exhausted and terrified wildebeest staggered into the phalanx of Ayesha’s clan who were to do the killing. Often the traumatised wildebeest just stood and waited until Ayesha directed their demise by her well rested, well muscled coterie.
Ayesha ensured that the late arrival of the scouts did not mean that they ate any the less, their role in each hunt was well rewarded.
As the clan increased a few of the more confident males thought that they would mate with Ayesha and Ustane. A thought that died with each male that tried to change the thought to a deed.
It was not that Ayesha and Ustane did not hear the counsel of nature or dismiss the urge to procreate and ensure their successors. It was an even stronger desire to ensure that next leader of the clan was born of a seed that would ensure the appropriate levels of grace, beauty, strength, and power. Ayesha was also in no hurry to have any cubs born that might be a challenge to her, recognising what she had done to Navaite.
Ustane however did not have exactly the same level of paranoia as Ayesha, and Ustane became interested in the sighting of a very large and powerful rogue male that belonged to no clan.
This rogue male was called Eblis, the demon, he was without fear, other than what he created in those who earned his ire. Eblis had appeared in the clan’s hunting grounds, and carried out solitary hunts as his appetite and whim dictated, and he was challenged by no-one. Ayesha appeared to have no interest in this solitary male, and expressed indifference to his presence, and his behaviour. Ustane became intrigued by the insolence of Eblis who paid no due respect to Ayesha and Ustane. For days Eblis would vanish, and then reappear, and wander through the clan taking no notice of any clan members. Ustane tracked his Eblis one day, and contrived to cross his path with her scent, and leave evidence that she was in season. From her vantage point up-wind Ustane saw Eblis encounter her scent, wrinkle his nose, shake his head, and move away from her enticement. Ustane was angry, she had wanted the opportunity to accept of reject Eblis. On her return to Ayesha, the rogue behaviour was cited by Ustane as a reason for him to be punished, though his apparent rejection of Ustane was not in the citation of his crimes. But Ayesha already ‘knew’ all of what had transpired, and encouraged Ustane to lure Eblis towards Ayesha, so that she could see this very large and powerful demon hyena. Ustane’s feelings towards Eblis appeared to have blinded her ‘second sight’, or she would not have done the bidding of Ayesha. Over a number of weeks Ustane managed to get closer to Eblis, and managed to walk alongside him with their fur occasionally touching. Eblis did nothing to dissuade Ustane, and she took this to be encouragement. No longer did Ustane feel that she could ever command Eblis, and appeared very content to be in his thrall. Ayesha’s patience was rewarded, and she glimpsed Eblis passing with Ustane at his side like a playful kitten.
Ayesha was amazed at how much Eblis was handsome, large and powerful, but she felt no regret as she killed Ustane and her father Eblis.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE CIVET
‘The Geese That Lay The Golden Eggs’
The proverbial ‘geese’ may not exist, but there exists in the wild a close contender:
The civet, is a common name for about thirty species of somewhat catlike, carnivorous mammals, of the family Viverridae, which also includes mongooses, so already we are close to the goose. Civets are native to the warm regions of Southeast Asia, southern Europe, and
In 2003/2004 many thousands of civets in southern
However I digress; the rarest and perhaps the most extraordinary coffee in the world has been selected by paradoxurus hermaphroditis, better know as the Common Palm Civet Cat. It prowls the Sumatran coffee plantations at night choosing to eat only the finest, ripest cherries (of the coffee tree. The stones (which eventually form coffee beans) are then collected by cleaning the droppings.
Kopi Luwak as it is known, is considered to be the finest coffee by native Sumatrans. Kopi Luwak has a rich chocolate like flavour and no aftertaste, which is unique. This flavour is due to the fact that the coffee has been partially fermented by passing through the digestive system of the Luwak or civet. Only about fifty kilos of this coffee is collected per year making it the ultimate in uniqueness and rarity. NewScientist.
When Kopi Luwak coffee bean, the world’s most expensive coffee, comes out of the other end of a large cat after it’s been eaten by the animal –called a civet or Luwak- the micro-structural properties of the beans are altered, according to new research by a University of Guelph scientist published in Food Research International.
The Kopi Luwak bean is harder, more brittle and darker in colour than the same type of bean that hasn’t ben eaten and digested by the three to ten pound tree-climbing animal found in
Marcone travelled to
Since people are paying US$50 for each cup of Kopi Luwak, he wanted to determine whether or not they are actually getting a different kind of coffee. In addition to the differences in size, colour and hardness of the bean, he foundthat the lack of protein in the bean results in a superior taste.
“The civet beans are lower in total protein, indicating that during digestion, proteins are being broken down, and are also leached out of the bean,”said Marcone. “Since proteins are what make coffee bitter during the raosting process, the lower levels of proteins decrease the bitterness of Kopi Luwak coffee.”
In the coffee industry, wet processed or fermented coffees are known to have superior flavour to dry-processed coffee, he said. “when coffee cherries are processed through the digestive tract they actually undergo a type of wet processing due to acidification in the stomach and fermentation due to the natural intestinal microflora. Lactic acid bacteria are preferred in ‘normal’ wet processing systems. Lactic acid bacteria happen to be major colonizing bacteria in the civet’s digestive tract.” The unique Kopi Luwak flavour could be due to the type of wet process the beans undergo in the animal’s digestive tracts, he said.
Although certified ‘blinded’ human tasters could find little difference in the overall flavour and aroma of the beans, an electronic nose machine could detect a difference in the aroma of the civet coffee beans.
So it tastes good, but is the coffee, having travelled through an animal’s digestive tract, safe to drink? Marcone found that although raw civet coffee beans are significantly more contaminated than regular beans, the civet beans on the market are actually quite clean. “Civet beans are typically extensively washed under running water after collection, which dislodges bacteria,” he said.
Marcone has also studied more common foods that have been processed through a living creature’s digestive tract, including, honey, edible bird’s nests and argan oil.
So when someone tells you that Kopi Luwak is the ‘best coffee in the world, no shit’ the phrase takes on a whole new meaning.
About a quarter of the population of Ethopia was engaged in the production of coffee, before the civil wars that has devastated the agriculture and economy of
In the
Lalibela, believes that he is king of all that he surveys, and at least in his mind for very good reasons, as he is a particularly fine specimen. Labibela has a long body, with well proportioned legs, and weighs about five kilos. He has a finely tapered head with medium sized sleek ears, and a long bushy tail. He has yellowish-tan fur, with patterns of black spots and stripes. His high opinion of himself is shared by many female civets, or was! Labibela would range far and wide in his favourite coffee plantations on the slopes of the
After eating his fill, Labibela would deposit his droppings (scat-turd) in strategic locations, and secrete his little love messages from a sac in the anal glands under his tail. This substance would let all the female civets know that he was around, and that he was a handsome virile ‘stud muffin’ who would give them some loving that they would long remember.
Sadly Labibela’s love life became what is euphemistically described by
Apparently some research conducted by an American academic revealed to the Amhara people, that the civets who they considered a pest, and a threat to the cherries of their coffee trees, could add enormous value to their crops.
The Amhara were at first very sceptical, but when they saw the prices that were paid for Sumatran civet coffee, they decided it was worth trying.
The obvious place to start was on the slopes of the
Labibela’s first response was to eat more and more cherries, with the hope that his production would exceed demand, and that enough sites would be left to allow his accompanying love mail to get through to their recipients. Labibela ate and ate, with his crap factory working overtime; much to the delight of the Amhara. The civits of
But his sphincter was cemented shut, and the agonised cries of constipated Labibela disturbed the composure all the lady civets, and caused some mild concern to the Amhara collectors. The pressure continued to build and in the end something had to give, and in Labibela’s end the pumice plug finally gave way near-by, one of the Amhara collectors found out why it can be a real crap job.
Life on the slopes of
Evolution at work can be wonderful.
CHAPTER SIX
RAVEN
(Corvidae Corvus corax)
Contemporary Issues
An article by Sandra Blakeslee, was published in the Sydney Morning Herald on 2nd Februray 2005:
‘”Birdbrain” as a term of ridicule may be wide of the mark, with new research suggesting parrots, crows and other birds behave as intelligently as chimpanzees. The clash of simple brain and complex behaviour has led some neuroscientists to create a new map of the avian brain. In Nature Neuroscience Reviews, a group of bird experts argues that nearly everything written in anatomy textbooks about the brains of birds is wrong. The avian brain is a complex, flexible and inventive as any mammal brain, they argue. Twenty-nine scientists from six countries met for seven years to develop new, more accurate names for structures in avian and mammalian brains. Experts are split into two warring camps. One holds that bird’s brains make the same kind of internal connections as mammal brains. The other holds that bird intelligence developed through expanding an old part of the mammal brain, and using it in new ways and it questions how developed that intelligence is. “There are still puzzles to be solved,” said Peter Marler, an authority on bird behaviour at the
It is also worth considering how birds of each species are able to build nests that are particular and specific to their species, but they were not able to watch their parents build their nest, nor were they taught by their parents.
In a Nature article on ravens, in 2005, ‘Long recognised as one of the most intelligent birds, the raven also has a less than savoury image throughout history as a scavenger that does not discriminate between humans and animals. Ingenious and versatile, ravens are members of the crow family, which includes jays and magpies. They are found everywhere in the northern hemisphere and adapt to very different terrain, from deserts to mountains,…. a feat requiring high intelligence.
They learn to find food even in the harshest conditions, such as the dead of winter in
In Funk and Wagnalls New Enclopedia, 1983, volume 22 Q to
Historical
In the 17th century King Charles II of
Legend and Myth
Odhinn, O.N; Woden, O.H.G. Wodan, woutan; Odin, king of the gods, had two black ravens, Huginn (Thought) and Muninn (Memory), these ravens flew forth daily to gather tidings of all that was being done throughout the world. Odin was the god of wisdom, poetry, and magic, and he sacrificed an eye for the privilege of drinking from Mimir, the fountain of wisdom.
10th century Contemporaries of Odin, who also placed a high value on wisdom, were Makeda, Queen of Sheba and King Solomon.
The titles of Haile Selassie I, included: ‘Might of the Trinity’, ‘Conquering Lion of the Tribe of Judah, Elect of God, and King of Kings.
The country
The spices of
There are a long sequence of water sources from the Blue Nile 1100 miles north of the equator in Eithiopia to Lake Kariba 1100 miles south of the equator in Zimbabwe, these include: Lake Tana, Lake Langana, Lake Shala, Lake Awwaa, the large Lake Rudolf, Lake Salisbury, Lake Victoria named by David Livingston (1813-1873), which straddles the equator, the large Lake Tanganyika, Lake Mweru, the large Lake Nyas, Lake Lachilwa and Lake Kariba.
Ophir, in the Bible, designates a people and a country.
The place Ophir was that from which the Bible represents Solomon’s fleet bringing gold, silver, thyine or almug (probably sandal) wood, used to build Solomon’s temple, precious stones, ivory, apes and peacocks ( I Kings commonly known as III Kings, ix, 26-28;x,11,22: Par; viii,17-18;ix,10). Its location has been sought for many years, and the Bible does not give the geographical position of Ophir; it only says that the voyage out and back lasted three years ( I Kings commonly known as III Kings, x, 22). The Greek translators of the Bible, by rendering the Hebrew Ophir into Sophir, the Coptic name for
The
In the 1130’s, under the leadership of Imad ad-din Zengi, Turkish powers became a serious threat to the Crusader kingdoms in the
The forgery was quite clever, for the forger had obviously read Otto von Freisingen’s report and he repeated many of the same stories and further played upon the hope and fears of the Europeans vis-a vis the infidel Turks, “I, Prester John, who reign supreme, surpass in wisdom, virtue, riches and power all creatures under heaven. Seventy kings are our tributaries. I am a zealous Christian and universally protect the Christians of our empire, supporting them by our alms. We have determined to visit the sepulchre of our Lord with a very large army, in accordance with the glory of our majesty to humble and chastise the enemies of the cross of Christ and to exalt his blessed name.”
The only official response to the letter was that Pope Alexander III sent out a Papal emissary in 1177 with a letter for Prester John, carried by his physician, Magister Philippos, but nothing was ever heard of what became of him. Years later, in the mid-thirteenth century when Asia was opened again to Europeans by the ascendency of the Tartars, the great search began to find this Prester John, a search which was very important opening up Asia and re-establishing ties with China.
By the 14th century, all searches for Prester John and his kingdom in
Sheri Leigh (2003) published in, The Cultured Traveler, Volume 5, February 2003, the following account:
‘Sub-Saharan
For 16th century Portuguese, the first Europeans to see the city, the ruins, strewn over almost 1,800 acres, had to have been the seat of some great power.
They theorised that the site might have been the capital of Makeda the Queen of Sheba or perhaps the legendary African Christian king, Prester John. Whoever Great Zimbabwe’s ancient monarch may have been, the Portuguese knew that they had come upon something grand. The site’s largest structure, later named the
The Great Enclosure was the second of Great Zimbabwe’s three major sites to be built. Preceding it was the nearby Hill Complex, constructed around 1250 AD; which included housing and religious structures.
A third element, the Valley Complex, was the smallest of the Great Zimbabwe’s precincts, and was probably built in the early 15th century. It is claimed that these Portuguese explorers arrived on the scene probably only a few decades after the city’s demise. It had been built by the Shona, ancestors to
*
In the 19th century the renown German archaeologist Karl Mauch, claimed, “No black Africans, past or present, had built Great Zimbabwe”. Instead Mauch claimed, “its construction was the achievement of some Middle Eastern people, possibly descendents of the mythical ‘Queen of Sheba’;” though others contend that Mauch’s claim was more to do with prevailing European racism at the time.
‘The Zimbabwe Bird is a little over 30 cms high. It is sculpted in stone. A number of these elegant pieces are in possession of the
They are thought to have stood on the walls and possible pillars in the Great Ruin – the origins of which are linked with legendary names like King Solomon and Monomatapa, whose 11th century Empire once included all of today’s
Buddha ,Siddhartha Gautama (563 BC- 483 BC) and Confucius (551 BC- 479 BC) were contemporaries and still today revered by many millions of people as two of the wisest men in the history of the world. Confucius according to Lao-Tze in The Writings of Chuang Tzu: Book XIV: PartII, Section VII, gave credit to ravens for his discovery of the Tao, as in Taoism.
Edgar Allen Poe’s The Raven (1845) sits eternally ‘On the pallid bust of Pallas’ – that is, a pale marble head-and –shoulders of Pallas Athena, Greek goddess of wisdom. The bird’s message, “Nevermore” is a powerful reminder of impermanence which motivates us to seek and attain wisdom.
The Bible (genesis, chapter 8: 6-13 of the Old Testament) tells how birds are sent by Noah to detect whether there is any dry land outside the ark that he had built to withstand the Flood:
At the end of forty days Noah opened the window of the ark which he had made, and sent forth a raven; and it went to and fro until the waters were dried up from the earth.
In
The hat of office of the Bhutanese high lama has the effigy of a raven at its crown.
Ngawang Thondup Narkyid in Life in the Potala says that the ravens “would gather together in assembly, almost like human beings, to talk and play and, like us, to compete in different kinds of sports!... We’d shape small balls of tsampa dough and toss them up in the air for the ravens to catch and eat……Though they didn’t actually let us touch them, we could get very close, and they would take food from our fingers. Most of the wise monks and students had a raven friend.
In ancient
The ravens left and in there place the people created and worshipped stone images of the ravens, but the statues were mute, the wisdom was gone and
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Oryx
Kalubi was an unremarkable looking oryx doe. Her sabre-like horns and markings were typical of the breed, and in fact her coat was a little more dusty and ungroomed compared to her contemporaries. Kalubi felt that she had good excuses if not valid reasons. Kalubi was older than many of the other does, but also she had been impregnated by Macumazana, the leader of their herd.
Bibliography
Allaby.M.(1979) Animals That Hunt; The Hamlyn Publishing Group Astronaut House, Feltham,
Baker. R (Chief Contributing Editor) (1980) The Mystery of Migration; Macdonald and Jane’s Publishing Group Ltd, Paulton House, 8 Shepherdess Walk, London N1 7LW
Funk & Wagnalls (1983) NewEncyclopedia Funk and Wagnalls
Marcone. M. (2004) New Research Explains Structure, Taste of Kopi Luwak Coffee Obtained from the web on 30th November 2004 at http://www.innovations-report.de/html/berichte/biowissenschaften_chemie/bericht-31 Other information may be obtained from www.uoguelph.ca and http://nomoresocks.newscientist.com/products/detail.aspx?productID=303
http://www.pbs.org/wnet/nature/ravens/
http://www.who2.com/queenofsheba.html
http://www.windweaver.com/sheba/Sheba.htm
http://www.philaprintshop.com/presjohn.html
http://www.the culturedtraveler.com/Heritage/Archives/Zimbabwe.htm
Leigh. S; (2003) The Cultured Traveler, Volume 5, February 2003
http://www.khandro.net/animal_birds.htm
Another one:
‘Concrete Jungle’
Emsea was woken by the screeching alarm calls from the sentry. Shaking the sleep from her head she instinctively adopted a defensive posture, ready to launch an attack using her teeth and nails to defend herself and her family group. The dense rooftops within which Emsea, Ohad and the rest of this small commune of ‘ferals’ – or ‘untamed people’ - now lived, became a cacophony of shrieks. Breaking glass and the roars of her mate Ohad, dominated the atmosphere. Emsea saw only brief glimpses of Ohad’s back as he rushed from one front to another, checking where the threat was greatest, smashing aside furniture and boxes to allow him the space needed to fight off the attackers.
Ohad was not the leader of the commune for scant reason. He was clearly the dominant male, known amongst these people as an Alpha male. They are distinguished by a bony crest on top of their skulls, a very deep broad chest and white hair. The ferals live within a family group consisting of one mature male and two or three females with their young. There may also be one or two immature black-haired males, but these must leave the group on maturity. Unless, that is, one of them is successful in displacing the dominant male.
No such threat was posed to Ohad, and his attackers quickly realised it. They started to withdraw carrying with them the marks of Ohad’s strength and ferocity. Retreating they were howling hollow challenges, ones they were hoping would be ignored.
Instead, Ohad gathered the family to him; together they set off in pursuit. He was determined that the attackers would be driven far beyond the range of their current territory, their particular rooftop, their communal home. All such groups live in communes found on the rooftops of high rise buildings in most of the central business districts of the world’s major cities, most of them above an altitude of 300 metres.
All of the family followed where Ohad led, all of them except two - Emsea, the paramount female, and the newly born son of Ohad and his youngest consort, Jareel. The status and stature of Emsea meant that she was left to guard the nursery, while the baby’s mother, father, aunts and cousins set off to counter attack.
he new son had been a source of great rejoicing. It had been a long time since there had been any young in the family, and Emsea, although chosen by the leader, as the paramount female had not mothered any of his progeny.
Emsea glanced at the rude bed in which the young baby slept, then at the baby. He was apparently oblivious to all that had taken place. He slept with one of his fingers in his mouth, face all wrinkled and pink. She reached into the nest that Jareel had built the day before, gently stroking the fine hair on his side. She looked around her, and then put her head on one side listening for any sound of the family. There was none.
Emsea firmly grasped the right leg of the baby, checking again for any sounds that might announce the return of the baby’s mother. Slowly she pulled the baby towards her, easing her left hand under his upper body and head. He stirred slightly as she brought him close to her huge muscular chest. With the fingers of her right hand she pulled his finger from his mouth, his eyes flickering as he mewed this loss of succour. Again Emsea tilted her head to listen for the sounds of her family She even sniffed the air to catch any hint of their return. Still nothing.
Emsea began by moving the baby’s mouth to her nipple and lightly pressing his head to her breast. His instinct took over, with him mouthing her nipple, trying to encourage flow of the milk. Emsea moved his head in gentle circles trying to encourage an issue from her dry well. The small child’s sucking became more urgent. It felt as if he were pulling on a hot string, one that connected her nipple to her reproductive organs and right down to her vagina. Each drawing of the string made all her female parts warm; sensitising, while at the same time creating a haunting empty tune within her soul.
Emsea did not want to stop, but she also did not want to torture the boy with her dry breasts. She pulled him slowly and firmly from her nipple laying him on the side of the nest. As she pulled him away he seemed to take with him the essence of her femininity. With her teeth she quickly pulled large tufts of hair from her arms spreading them in the bottom of the nest before settling him on her down and replacing his finger in his mouth.
he family was returning. Emsea turned away from the baby and took up a defensive posture nearby. The first to return, Jareel, quickly went to her nest, picking up her baby and bringing him to her nose, sniffing him all over. She looked quizzically at Emsea, her eyes opening wide for a second and then averting her gaze. Jareel cradled her baby to her breast, and as he was feeding she used her other hand to pick Emsea’s hair from the nest dropping it to the ground. Emsea felt her body tensing, shifting into the attack pose.
Just then Ohad returned. He quickly scouted around for any sign of the attackers. Satisfied that they were all gone, he went slowly around to each member of his clan smelling their scents and checking their presence. He paused briefly by his son and roughly rolled him around the nest. Ohad’s son was a great source of pride to him, but he would not show any softness in his treatment of him in case this was interpreted as a sign of weakness.
One smell of Emsea told him she was in season; he instinctively gave the sign and sounds for her to adopt the appropriate posture for him to mate with her. She did so willingly; pleased he wanted to service her. She knew part of the reason was that he needed to confirm his status as the Alpha male, but she was eager to be serving him, embracing his seed deep within her. The mating did not last long, but for Emsea very satisfying. Her status was reinforced. The family’s Alpha male had not denied her; even though food was a major issue concerning them, and breeding inappropriate this season.
These feral communal groups usually fed on scraps they scavenged from waste bins. Where possible, they lived in ‘Hoi Polloi’ (the other people) areas that had ‘fast food’ outlets and restaurants from which plenty of consumable food was routinely thrown away. However the government laws on ‘Food Recycling and Reconstitution - especially protein’ had significantly affected their food supply. In recent years some researchers had claimed evidence of feral cannibalism when food became scarce. Thus, attacks on Ohad’s clan became more and more frequent as food in the greater area became increasingly scarce. In addition, worsening pollution was sucking the life out of all living things.
Most often during the attacks, Emsea carried out the guarding duties for the nursery and its one baby. Each time Emsea was cradling him to her breast, his suckling often causing her to lactate. She was mystified by these phenomena at first, but then just felt fulfilled at being able to satisfy his need for warmth and succour. Each time Jareel came back to the nest reclaiming her baby and wiping her baby’s mouth, filling it with her own breast in an effort to eradicate the scent of Emsea. Whenever this happened Emsea would ignore the stares of Jareel and go in search of food.
Emsea started to experience some other changes as well. She started to gain weight and the family became excited with the realisation that Emsea was pregnant. Their Alpha male had sired another baby. But the excitement was tempered by concerns about further attacks. Although no serious injuries had been inflicted there was increasing disquiet compounded by the increasingly obvious effects of malnutrition on them all.
The next attack came just as daylight was fading, and from three directions. This time Emsea was directed to use her strength and experience to help repel and pursue the attackers. One of the youngest females Ustane was left to guard the nursery. The noise of the fighting, the lack of lighting, and all the alien scents were worrying the young guard. Hearing a very loud distress call asking for her help, she rushed to where she thought she was needed. She found no attackers, no members of her family needing urgent help. She slowly retraced her track to the nest.
Ustane’s horrified shrieking brought the entire family back to the nest where they gathered around, joining in her distress. In the bottom of the nest lay their baby. His head had been smashed against a nearby wall. Large bites had been made into his head and chest. Remnants of his brain and viscera stained the nest. Jareel lifted him to her breast hoping that the warmth of her body and tears would heal his wounds, and that she would again feel him feeding from her breasts. It did not heal him. Jareel did not feel him feeding.
Emsea gently took the baby from Jareel placing him on the floor in front of Ohad. The shriek of anger and distress from Ohad echoed through the concrete canyons, all other noises seemed to diminish in homage to the wailing of Ohad. His agony was manifest. He roared from the rooftop. This made the group anxious, and they huddled together, scared by the situation and their leader’s unbridled reaction. Emsea slowly approached Ohad, grasping his hands and looking up directly into his eyes. In the past, such actions had caused others at least a sharp rebuke, more often a wound. But not this time. Not now. Instead with Ohad’s shoulders slumping, head falling to his chest, a whimper stole from his lips. Emsea shook his hands firmly.
Ohad brushed Emsea’s hands away, jerked his head back, expanded his chest with a huge breath and roared a challenge to their world. As the dominant male and clan leader Ohad had rights that he would not hesitate to claim, but he also had obligations that he had to fulfil. Ohad accepted his obligations to fulfil the funeral ritual.
Emsea picked up the remains of Ohad’s son and placed the body onto Ohad’s open hands. He raised the body of the dead infant to his nose and sniffed it. The baby had not yet been named as he had not been weaned from the breast. Ohad could smell only the odour from himself, Jareel, Emsea and Ustane, the young female, who had been guarding the nest. His brow furrowed the hairs on the back of his neck standing out. He looked at Ustane, Jareel and then Emsea.
His unspoken questions pre-empted by Jareel raising her arm indicating that they all should be listening to the noise which her keen hearing had first detected. It was the whooping noise of the siren that alerted the hoi polloi to the reversing of the dumpster trucks. It was also the alarm for the ferals warning them that they should evacuate any dumpster from which they were scavenging. It was an alarm that came too late sometimes for the very old and the very young, the compactor cutting short their screams and their lives.
Ohad glanced once more at the body of his son and rushed to the stairway, conscious of the need for speed if he was to carry out the funeral rites in the most appropriate way with the least impact on his clan. He lifted the lid of the huge dumpster and gently placed the body of his son on the rotting morass within. Ohad again roared a challenge to their world before closing the lid of the dumpster, retreating to the shadows, witnessing the actions of his son’s cortege. The process was the same as it always was; the truck was driven to the side of the dumpster, two large metal arms extending to engage in two slots on either end of the dumpster. The engine of the truck revved higher as the dumpster was lifted from the ground with the metal arms pivoting to deliver the dumpster over the roof of the cabin, tipping the contents into the maw of the compactor. Three shakes of the dumpster to ensure all the contents had been transferred, then the arms pivoting once more placing the dumpster back on it site. The engine of the truck was revving once again, the compacter reducing the volume of the load.
The whooping of the reversing alarm announcing the departure of the truck was the requiem for son of Ohad, who had not yet been named; the dumpster truck his hearse; the high temperature rubbish incinerator his crematorium. The rites had been carried out as tradition demanded.
The echoes of the truck were still fading when replaced by a more strident siren announcing the impending arrival of the ‘Hoi Polloi Enforcers’ - the police. The anguished roars of Ohad had made the ‘other people’ uneasy and a summons had been sent for the enforcers to make the streets quiet and suitable for ‘normal people’. For Ohad, for Emsea, for the ferals who happened to be ‘in the way’, this forced them into hiding; or worse, into capture and be put to sleep - the long sleep of eternity.
Ohad gathered the clan to him, after checking all were present, leading them into the lower basements, a place which they all hated and avoided whenever possible. The enforcers knew that the ferals hated the basements starting their search on the stairways leading up to the rooftops. Rising higher and higher checking each level, their progress punctuated by the muffled thump from a discharged weapon then the acrid smoke from the burning hair of ‘treated’ ferals, those from other clans who had not been swift or clever enough to avoid the attention of the police.
Ohad led, pushing on from one basement to another through the rubble and oil slicked waters that was matting their hair and weighing them down. The heavy particle pollution that seeped into the basements pushed the air out, the breathing of the clan became more and more laboured.
Heavy with child Emsea staggered, and fell beneath the surface of the foul smelling oily slick. No hand reached out to help; survival was the responsibility of each individual. Emsea kicked out with her feet trying to get a grip on the floor, her chest heaving as she held her breath, but desperately needing air. Panic surged through her chest as the first drops of acrid fluid were entering her nose and trickling into the back of her throat.
“Air, Emsea must get air” was her sole thought. But again her feet slipped. Each time she fell back further into the slime. Emsea felt movement in her stomach knowing she had to try again for the sake of her unborn son. With her last remaining strength she kicked out, but to no avail. Emsea was struggling no more. She was starting to feel at peace, accepting the fate of her son and herself.
hen Emsea felt a surge of water around her. Not aware of its possible source or consequence, she was embracing the blessed release that oxygen deprivation was providing. Then she was grabbed by her hair and she found herself being pulled to her feet. Spluttering and retching she cleared her mouth and lungs. She then looked at Ohad. It was a look of astonishment. Survival was the responsibility of each individual. That was their law. But Ohad had breeched their law. Ohad reaching out began gently stroking the bulging stomach of Emsea. Then as she smiled, he hit the side of her head, almost pitching her back into the fetid waters. He strode off with Emsea struggling to keep up.
Ohad called a halt commanding the clan to rest on an island of broken wooden pallets. This refuge gave respite from the cold oily water that was stripping their skin and leeching their hair of its natural oils causing them all to shiver then pant as the heavy particle polluted air took its toll on their lungs. Ohad knew they could not stop in these cellars for long. They had to get back to the rooftops, as far from the polluted air as they could. It was also important that they get food for replenishing their strength and rags for cleaning the filthy oily water from their bodies.
Ohad also had a crucially important issue to resolve: who in the clan had murdered his son.
he adult males were sent to scavenge food, the young adult females to gather sacking to wipe the filth from their bodies. These tasks accomplished the food was allocated and consumed according to status. Cleaning followed, again according to status in the clan. Ohad was cleaned first followed by Emsea as the paramount female carrying Ohad’s child.
Jareel was the last adult female allowed feeding and cleaning. No longer a nursing mother the status she previously enjoyed, was no longer hers.
Jareel made no complaint. The laws were well known to them all and Ohad did not hesitate to enforce the laws if he encountered any infraction; without the rule of law there would be anarchy then the life expectancy of individual ferals significantly diminishing. With the clan fed and warmer Ohad’s priority was moving back to the rooftops, but not in their usual home range.
Up to six different groups may use the same city block at a time, in overlapping home ranges of between two and five square kilometres in size. Some commune groups move around their home range nomadically, remaining in particular areas from two to twenty-six days.
Ohad knew the enforcers would linger for a while to ensure any ferals were dissuaded from returning to a neighbourhood that would lodge a complaint about the efficiency and effectiveness of the police patrol. Ohad accepted the responsibility for settling his clan in a new area; Ohad shouldered the accountability of taking a home range from another clan or losing his consorts to a more dominant male and the death or banishment of all the adult males in his clan.
Ohad left Emsea in command of the clan. She was the paramount female and Ohad did not want to do anything to increase the status of any young male who might challenge him for leadership. He resolved to settle his clan on the rooftop of the highest building just outside their usual home range. Selecting his target he slowly, quietly ascended the stairs, carefully conserving his energy for the trials ahead and reducing the risk of a mass response to his approach.
As Ohad stepped from the shadows onto the rooftop he saw that this was a large clan, five or six females with their young of various stages of maturity. A large clan usually was an indicator of a larger and more powerful Alpha male. This clan would be no exception.
Ohad stepped into a pool of pale moonlight, threw back his head and taking a huge breath of air, roared out his challenge.
The clan froze, smallest actions stilled, tension instantly palpable. Noise behind Ohad alerted him to the fact that his challenge was about to be answered.
Turning slowly Ohad faced his foe, aware that any quick movement would trigger the attack response from the largest Alpha male bull he had ever seen. The chest was almost as wide as he was tall, with arms as large as Ohad’s legs. The red rimmed eyes that glared at Ohad communicated the pain and death that their owner had delivered before and would do again. The challenge response was loud and vicious the volume condemning Ohad’s challenge to a whispered aside.
Fear in Ohad started as a small worm that ate into the pit of his stomach then starting to sap all strength from his limbs. This monster promised a slow and painful death. Ohad shrugged his shoulders into the attack pose, this movement banishing the worm of doubt from his mind and body. Ohad backed away from his opponent, suppressing his instincts, trying to think, rather that just be a slave to their normal ‘stimulus response’ behaviour.
His opponent was reading Ohad’s actions as the usual reaction to his formidable presence, the prelude to him grasping then tearing his victim. Still moving backwards very slowly Ohad was retreating from the advance of this huge Alpha male bull until retreat was no longer possible. He was feeling the roof edge under the heel of his rear foot.
Now it was time; now war would commence. With no quarter asked and none given. Ohad bared his teeth and spread his arms and fingers. He was initiating the battle. It would be its first and only engagement.
A small noise behind the Alpha male bull did not distract him as he pushed off with his legs, launching himself at Ohad. At the same instant a sharp splinter of wood emerged from the front of the Alpha male bull’s chest. Ohad dropped to the ground, the body of the huge Alpha male bull disappearing off the edge of the rooftop, echoes of his rage disappearing into the depths.
Ohad jumped to his feet immediately, and as the rituals demanded, he roared the news of his victory to all the surrounding rooftops. It carried the explicit warning of what could be expected by any intrusion on the clan of the Alpha male that now ruled the highest rooftop. His triumph announced Ohad slowly approached Emsea. She stood in the centre of the rooftop with the remains of a large splinter of wood still in her hand. Ohad looked at Emsea in astonishment. Survival was the responsibility of each individual that was the law. Emsea had broken the law. Emsea looked at Ohad, rubbing her hand in a circle over her swollen belly, and then lowering her eyes paying homage to her clan Alpha male.
There was a murmur from the new clan. The laws had been broken. Survival was the responsibility of each individual. That was the law. Ohad roared a challenge, daring any male to translate any dissidence into action. There was no further response. Their old Alpha male was dead. Their new Alpha male was head of the greater clan. Integration of the two clans was swift and without consequence. Daily food, drink and shelter quickly asserting their usual prominence, motivating their every action.
But the day of ritual trial and retribution though delayed was not to be denied. Ohad recognised and embraced his rights and obligations Ohad would conduct the trial, decide the verdict then deliver the sentence. Ohad would implement the questioning under ordeal illuminated by that evening full moon when it was at its zenith. Ohad would perform the rites that were demanded by the death of his son by a member of his clan. Trial by ordeal was their mode of inquisition; questioning under duress to focus the minds of those who have transgressed.
The first to be questioned was Ustane, the young female who had been left in charge of Ohad’s son. The safety of Ohad’s son had been her responsibility, her obligation.
As tradition demanded Ohad began by pushing a 15cm wide plank outwards from the rooftop until it was on the point of balance, then he stood on the rooftop end of the plank; while the female under questioning walked slowly backwards along the plank. Just before Ustane reached the end Ohad gave the signal for her to stop.
“Did you have the responsibility for the safety of my son?” inquired Ohad. Ustane was nodding her head, acknowledging her responsibility.
“Did my son die while he was in your care?” demanded Ohad. She was nodding her head again, she was acknowledging her accountability.
Ohad stepped off the plank, it toppled end over end into the depths alongside the young female who had failed to fulfil her obligations under their laws. The trial, verdict and sentence had been delivered by Ohad as their rites demanded.
Two planks were now placed on the edge of the rooftop 15cms wide and 15cms apart. This time they were only pushed a third of their length from the edge of the rooftop. Ohad stood with one leg placed on the end of each plank. Emsea and Jareel walked slowly backwards along each of their planks until the nod came from Ohad for them to stop.
Jareel was the first to face her inquisitor; “you were the mother of my son who was killed!” She looked into the eyes of Ohad, nodding her agreement to his statement. The plank underneath Jareel wavered as she shifted her weight a little.
Ohad focussed on Emsea, “Are you pregnant with my next son?” Emsea nodded her confirmation looking directly into Ohad’s eyes.
“Would you do anything to sustain the growth of my unborn son, and do anything to safeguard his life were he to be born?” demanded Ohad?
This time Emsea lowered her eyes from Ohad’s piercing gaze. Her confirming nod was slow. Emsea’s shoulders slumped as she acknowledged the very significant implications of her response, her guilt.
Ohad stepped off the plank, it toppled end over end into the depths alongside Jareel who had failed to fulfil her ultimate obligations under their laws. The trial, verdict and sentence had been delivered by Ohad as their rites demanded.
Emsea raising her head once more was looking into the eyes of Ohad, she obeyed his summons to walk back onto the rooftop. As she walked past Ohad, he gently rubbed his large hand over her swollen belly feeling the flutter of life within that is so important to Ohad and Emsea.
THE END
Word count: 4350
Written by: John Lunn November 2007
Text illustrations: Agricola G.(1556) DE RE METALLICA (Translated by Hoover H.C; Hover L.H) 1950 Dover Publications, Inc
THE SONG OF THE GREAT SOUTHERN LAND
I was told this tale by a wise old man, not a scholarly man. His wisdom came from the lessons that he learned through his life. The wise old man possessed nothing, but his wisdom, he owned no land, he owned no light and he owned no air, but his wisdom endowed him with riches beyond compare.
In a land that is known for its industry, there was a very competent merchant who lived in a house near the sea. If he looked east in the morning he saw rugged mountains stretching their pointed fingers up to embrace the new warmth of the morning sun. When he turned his eyes west in the evening he saw the angry red sun diluted, and then absorbed by the restless heaving sea. When he looked north in the afternoon he caught vague scents of the lands of his forebears. When he looked south he saw the battlefields of commerce. This merchant was also a traveller, and his miles had contributed much to his purse.
The size of his house and his purse were not a source of fulfilment to this man, and he decided that he would go to the fabled Great Southern Land. Such was the power of his purse that his journey was quick, and of no great consequence, and he soon found himself near a lagoon by a river in the Great Southern Land. As he sat in the shade of a tree a large kingfisher flew into the tree just above his head. The kingfisher looked first one way, then the other, and began to talk to the man.
‘You are looking for happiness, but you have started your journey from the wrong place,’ said the kingfisher.
‘I am in no mood for riddles,’ said the man who seemed unconcerned that he was talking with a kingfisher, on the banks of a lagoon, near a river in the Great Southern Land.
‘I think that in your imagination you are the sphinx, the riddle sayer; not a catcher of fish with a raucous voice,’ declared the man.
The kingfisher laughed, ‘the judgment of a mere man, who strides in ignorance on this earth little more that three score years and ten.’
The man became angry, and he shouted at the kingfisher, ‘there are magnificent palaces I have seen. Great men to whom I have bowed my head, world mysteries that I have unravelled; all beyond the understanding of a fish catcher with a beak longer than the business for that it was intended. How can you know something, anything, of my world and my business?’
‘I listen to the wind that visits every corner of the world, I see the light that shines on all the lands and seas, I read the dust that tells of the construction and the decay, I listen to the songs that the earth sings.
‘What tunes do you listen to that inform you on your quest, searching man?’
‘I have listened to the greatest compositions, played by the best musicians on the most exquisite instruments,’ declared the man.
‘Fine music indeed, but what tunes do you listen that inform you on your quest, searching man?’
‘None,’ declared the man, then he paused for a moment, ‘will you sing me the songs that the earth sings to help me resolve my quest?’
‘Me sing the songs of the earth, me that has such a raucous voice. No I can not sing them. But I can perhaps take you to a place where you will be able to hear the song of the Great Southern Land. But you need to be willing and brave, willing to take the risk, and brave enough to live with the consequences.’
‘I am willing to take the risk, and I have the strength to overcome any consequences,’ vowed the man.
‘But are you brave enough to live with the consequences? Asked the kingfisher.
‘I am,’ said the man, ‘lead me to where I can hear the song of the Great Southern Land.
The kingfisher flew slowly away from the lagoon, and in low circles leading the man to a cave near the northern bank of the river.
The kingfisher waited until the man sat down at the mouth of the cave, then said, ‘face to the west let the setting sun light up your mind, and let the silence embrace you mind, each time you breathe out let the air carry away your thoughts and memories.’
The kingfisher watched intently as the man did as he was instructed, ‘now lay down, and place you ear to the earth of the Great Southern land.’
As the man lay down the kingfisher flew away.
The evening mist on the river climbed up to the mouth of the cave, and embraced his brain with its coolness. He did not feel the ground, he did not feel the air, did not see the moon or stars. The man was falling into an abyss that had no sides, had no end.
But there was no fear. Then from a great distance he heard a small sound. It became slowly louder, slowly closer it was the tinkling of raindrops, the music of the water on the ringing stones, the songs of the water as it takes with it memories of its source to the seas. The man shivered with anticipation, he knew he was listening to the overture of the Song of the Great Southern Land.
The song told of great fires from the centre of the earth, molten fires that scoured the earth and fought the seas beneath clouds of steam.
The fires retreated in the face of the coldest winds, and walls of ice pushed and pulled the land into shapes that made the earth groan, and the rivers solid. It was a powerful melody, strong clean notes, untainted, pure. This was the first part of the Song of the Great Southern land that the man was feeling.
The music faded into the distance, to be replaced by a haunting melody, which was increasingly interrupted by a discordant note. This note was the voices of men, he did not know their language, but he knew their meaning. ‘Slash and burn, kill and devour!’
The wind told of their deeds, the sun glared disapproval, the dust evidence of their construction, and their decay. This verse of the Song of the Great Southern Land was melancholy, but true. Soft voices urged gathering the natural bounty of nature, but the killing cries, the blood lusted voices were more strident, and the soft voices faded into dreams.
The tune changed again, deep rumbling sounds of the sea, and the winds that brought ships to the shore of the Great Southern Land. The rumblings became a roar, the roar of canons and muskets, the anguished cries of the injured and dying, the whimpers of the whipped; a symphony of death! The winds told of their deeds, the sun glared its disapproval, the dust - evidence of their construction and decay.
This verse of the Song of the Great Southern Land was strident, but true. Soft voices urged gathering the natural bounty of nature, but the killing cries, the blood lusted voices were more strident, and the soft voices faded into dreams.
The music changed again, and from the depths of the abyss, the harsh sounds of metal upon metal hammered the man’s ears with their noise. ‘Bigger, higher, better, more’
These were the words that the chorus shouted. The winds told of their deeds, the sun glared its disapproval, the dust evidence of their construction and decay. The birds listened to the wind, and fell dead to the ground, the animals looked at the sun as it bleached their bones, the bodies of the fish were carried by the rivers to feed the decaying reefs in the seas, and the soft voices faded into dreams.
The man felt an ache in his shoulder and hip, and rubbed his eyes as he became aware that he was at the mouth of a cave, on the northern banks of a river in the Great Southern Land.
‘I have heard the Song of the Great Southern Land,’ he said to himself and he walked down to the river to get a drink.
The man returned to his land where the sun rises in the mountains, and sets in the sea, and he went about his business. But he was not at peace, he had heard the Song of the Great Southern Land, and the tunes intruded into his mind every day and every night.
The man sought the counsel of many ministers of many religions, but their songs were songs of praise for their gods, their creations. They knew nothing of the Song of the Great Southern Land. He travelled north to the land of his ancestors, and the dust from their graves lingered on his hands trying to communicate. But the calls of industry drowned out their subtle lullaby.
At last he found his way to a wise man. Not a scholarly man, a man that had learned his lessons from his life.
‘Ah,’ said the wise man, ‘I have heard this story from other men, what is your intention?’
‘I think, perhaps I need to go back to the Great Southern Land,’ said the man almost as a question.
‘Will you live there?’ asked the wise man, he had not finished learning.
‘I have heard some of the Song of the Great Southern Land, and I need to know the climax of this composition.’
‘I know not if I can live there, but I know that I will die there.’ ‘I have heard the Song of the Great Southern Land.’ ‘Wherever I travel I hear the wind lament of the deeds, I shelter from the glare of the sun’s disapproval, I try and shake the dust of the construction, and decay from my boots.’ ‘I have heard the Song of the Great Southern Land, I will be a footsore traveller over the ways of the world until the day of my death. At my death the scant hope that my requiem will be the soft voices from the dreaming, singing the last most powerful chorus for the Song of the Great Southern Land.’
John Lunn
Labels: Just some short stories
posted by John Lunn at 10:34 PM
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