You've been back to the mother africa many times, many times have you heard his call. The call that can strike fear into the bravest of hearts. Now you are a hunter. Its been more than 1 hunt, more than 2, more than 3, perhaps you've lost count. Now it is your turn. If you deserve one. the wheel of life turns round and round, and maybe just maybe it might be your turn. You killed and killed again to give yourself the edge. The guilt pains run throu your mind from time to time, but after all it is your turn. The cruiser left camp early this morning. Everyone ther heard the call. He was brave, this one, the bravest of all. Your loving wife sits in the front seat next to the PH with a smile on her face, but worry in her heart. Why do you have to do this one? The black farmer came yesterday. He had lost his prize donkey to him. It was almost a years income to him and he has asked you help. Help which you gladly give, after all this is why you're here. As you get closer, the vulture rise into the trees. If they're there than he isn't. The donkey is dead and partially eaten. In tracking around the area, the trackers discover the second dead donkey. Now the farmer is in tears. Not only has he lost his livelihood, be he fears for his family. In the grass huts live his wife, his children, his parents, all his relatives. Might they be next? The ph has the trackers build a blind, close, but not to close to the donkeys. It is still broad daylight, and he will not come until dark, until it is his time, until he has the advantage, until you can feel the fear in your loins.
Back in camp you have an early supper. Careful of taking in to much liquid because it is only rented, to try to rest. Rest in a fleeting glimpse. In your mind all you can see is a tawny shape. The shape that leaps into your dream, the shape that causes lear to enter. Now in the late afternoon, you and your PH enter the blind. Everyone else has left. The dark approaches and your eyes try to pierce it. You study and study until shapes disappear. The pitch black of the night has arrived, and you can't see, but he can. you know he can. It is different hunt than you have had before. This is a killer. and as such deserves no quarter. Still you feel his freedom, his power, and wonder why he deserves no quarter, after all it is his way, not yours. The night wears on when the sounds of crunch happen. You look toward the ph, but can't see anything. its to dark. Crunch, crunch, those powerful jaws are breaking bones. In the recess of your mind, you are wondering what your bones would do. The PH taps your knee and you scrunch behind the rifle stock. The light goes on, but as soon as it t=does, the night decomes empty once again. The wisper of the ph is for your ears only, he says its a lion, a big lion, and i think he has a black mane, but he was gone so quickly i can't be certain.
You go back to the endless wait. This is as bad as the wait for the birth of your first son. It seems endless., and then crunch, crunch. He is back. You leave him to feast upon his ill gotten gains for a few minutes and then the tap come on your knee. Teh light goes on, and he looks at you. Not at the light, not and the PH, not at the tent, but at you. His gaze digs into your very soul, and yours into his. It is almost as if you have become one, in an instance as one. You are both supreme hunters, but at this point in time you are the great. The squeeze on the trigger, the sound of the shot, the recoil of the rifle are all non existent. Ther is only you and him. THe one. THen he is gone. There is tall grass behind. He has gone into it. Now the fear in your heart becomes very real. You must go into the tall grass after him to finish your job. The grass is shoulder high, and it is dark. You can see a foot beyond the beam of the torch. A few steps at a time. THen the thunders roar. He is still alive, and not very happy about what you have done. The time has come, the time to let the fear take over courage. Backing out of the grass you can hear him. The wheezing that comes when something cannot breathe. One side of your head says, good job, and the other says why did you do this. Then it is quiet. A dreadful stillness rules the air. You wait, and wait. Hi must be gone by now. Your tracker leads the way, with your ph following. You feel thankful that there are two infront of you. A few more yards and the beam of the torch illuminates the body. It is the body of the king. Only the body, because his spirit lives on. it lives within you He is call the king of beasts, and so must it be. He was fearless, unlike you, so why did you win the contest. It must be than his spirit now lives with you. The fear is gone, only the fearless remain. He was the king, long live the king

quote:

He was the king, long live the king.

Amen.

quote:

He was the king, long live the king.

Amen.[/QUOTE]

+2

Thanks butchloc. Another masterpiece!

EXCELLENT!!!!!!!!

I agree excellent!

Long live the king.

Thanks for preparing me for my encounter with Simba in the Selous 57 days...

Mike