Umande was in very high spirits. “Mabatu?”
“Maybe I should go by Baba. It’s less confusing. Besides, that’s what my friends call me.”
“I’d like to be your friend, Baba.” She smiled broadly. “You don’t know what your coming has done for us. You’re the son my father never had. You’re our hope for a future.”
“Whoa!” he said. “Really?”
“Would I joke about a thing like that?” She nuzzled him playfully. “You think you’ve had a run of bad luck, but you’re really very lucky, you know?”
“I don’t think I’ve had any bad luck. God has been very good to me. Your King is the second one who asked me to be his son. I never knew my real father, but I've known a lot of love in my life.” He nuzzled her back. “So your Dad knew my Mom?”
“I suppose so. They hit it off well, I’d say.”
A few clouds passed in front of the sun giving a moment of blessed respite from the mid-sun heat. A cool wind began to blow with the promise of moisture for the thirsty land. A drop fell, playfully teasing the end of Mabatu’s nose. Then a couple more fell. “Hey, it’s going to rain!” He almost danced. “Imagine that! Rain at last!”
“What’s so great about that? It rains all the time.”
“It does??” He remembered something his mother told him long ago and sighed. “I guess she was right. It’s only back home that it never rains. It’s been many moons since we’ve had any rain.”
“Many moons, you say? What’s happened to the grass? It looks like that would ruin hunting.”
“Hunting? Half-rotted fish trapped in pools as our beautiful river dries up to nothing. Dead birds, snakes, lizards. Do you realize that zebra is the first thing with hair on it I’ve eaten since I was belly-high to my mother?” He sighed. “Some day I’m going back for her, hyenas or no hyenas, and I’m getting her out of that hell hole. There will be a lot of scores settled that day, I promise you.”
“Poor Baba!” She trotted in a lope that was easy and looked casual but moved a lot of ground beneath her. “These trees form one corner of our land. Note the scent, Baba. Note it carefully--it’s my Dad’s, and it’s all that comes between us and danger.”
Baba sniffed of a tree trunk, closed his eyes and grimaced. The fragrance of his father’s urine was a safe smell, one that he would remember and respect. Then he lifted his leg and marked the tree. “There! You try to touch that old lion, you’ll have to kill me first!” His face lost its cublike timidity and he was the lion that made love to Isha once again. “I wish I’d known my Uncle Baliaha. He sounds like a decent sort of lion.”
“He was more than decent. He loved us with his whole heart. He was a lot like you--he said they’d have to kill him first, and they did. Don’t take foolish chances, Baba. You’re our only hope.”
“But I’m young. At least I have a chance.”
“You have more than a chance. Aiheu sent you to us, and he never does anything halfway. I believe you are blessed, our little Nisei.”
Baba smiled. That’s what Isha had called him so tenderly as they made love under the moon. He reached over and touched Umande with his tongue.
It was a long trip from the copse to the termite mounds, or so it seemed to Baba who had never had to walk boundary lines before. As a lion, short-legged or no, he had to satisfy the mandates of lionhood laid down by Aiheu to the first Baba many generations ago. Again, he added his mark to the termite mounds, then turned to face Boundary Kopje. Another long walk, and another scent mark later, they followed the creek from Boundary Kopje to Bontebok Copse, and then back to where they started. It was part of his leonine heritage that he remembered the border vividly after one trip, even as he remembered his new father’s scent. He looked out into the lands beyond his domain, raised his muzzle and uttered a loud, deep roar. “This land is mine! Baba, son of Mabatu! Trespass at your peril!”
Umande said, “This time, let’s see YOU find the markers.”
Baba looked around, wide eyed. “Again??”