The hunt mistress had been having a hard time finding food in the overhunted and parched Pride Lands. There was little to do except to hunt for all kinds of unwholesome creatures that only desperate lions would attempt to choke down. Togo and Kombi were growing drastically emaciated, and Uzuri was even worse off. The only way her twins survived was the generosity of Ugas who would have Adhama pass her an occasional hare. He did not know about his sons yet, but he suspected that she was struggling even harder than she would admit.
Disgusted, she returned empty yet again to her favorite rock, there to wait for one simple pleasure she allowed herself. Every night, Shimbekh would come and talk with her. From Shimbekh, Uzuri learned many stories of the hyenas and even a few phrases in their language. In return, Uzuri taught her about Aiheu and all the stories of the great kings of the past. These brought her comfort in her distress, and of late Shimbekh had looked strangely tormented.
Time passed. One Called Alligator and The Three Monkeys rose above the horizon. The moon sailed like a silent swan to the zenith of the heavens, crested at midmoon, then settled lower in the western sky. And still Shimbekh did not come. Irritated, Uzuri was ready to leave. “She knows we have a standing date.” But it occurred to her that the hyena might be sick.
Shoving through the brush, a look of desolation on her face, Makhpil went to Uzuri and fell before her, sobbing.
“There now, my child! What’s wrong?”
“It’s Shimbekh,” she gasped. “Holy Mother Roh’kash, she jumped into the gorge!”
“Oh no!” Uzuri pulled Makhpil close with a paw. “Oh gods, no! You poor creature!” Tears began to stream down her face.
Togo and Kombi were attracted by the commotion. Miserable, they huddled next to their mother and Makhpil.
“We have to set her soul free,” Makhpil sobbed. “I don’t want Shenzi to know. I hate her! It has to be just us, and maybe Ber. She liked him, you know.”
Sadly, Uzuri trudged with Makhpil and Ber to the side of the gorge followed by her twin sons. They sat on the spot where her trail abruptly ended. Togo looked over the side.
“Get away from there!” Uzuri shouted, pulling him back by the nape of the neck and then grooming him nervously.
Makhpil wailed--a high-pitched, heart rending cry that made Togo and Kombi’s hackles raise and their tails bristle. “Roh’kash, give me strength to walk this path alone, for my companion is gone into the east.”
“We look to the dawn where comes our salvation,” Ber said. “May your firstborn find no fault in her. May he recognize her righteousness.”
Uzuri put her paw on Makhpil’s shoulder. “Great Mother, let our friend rise with the sun to meet you and nurse at your side. Roh’kash, hear our prayer.” Falling on her back in a hyannic posture of prayer, she pawed at the sky. “Go to the sun, Shimbekh. Rise with the sun, Shimbekh. It is the dawn of your eternal bliss.”
Uzuri then went to the edge of the canyon and drew in a deep breath. She unleashed a roar--a loud, terrible roar that echoed off the walls in a thousand protests of grief. When the sound finally died away, she added softly, “You have put a thorn in my heart, old friend! I shall miss you.”