Lazing in the Trees

[Firdawsi Sauda]

The heat was intense in the Oasis, the sun set high for noon. No cloud offered resistance to the sun's dominant glare, no breeze dared defy it. Every creature found itself taking refuge in the shade of a bush, or perhaps on the very edge of the lake. Hunting was put off til later, sleeping looking better and better as the minutes dragged by. Leaves rustled in the distance, a cougar's roar on the horizon. And in the trees, in its own area of refuge, a lone panther lazed, its tail slithering back and forth across the sturdy branch.

Head on its front paws, back paws touching the trunk, the panther was stretched to the very end of the thick, rough branch, its eyes blending in with the bright green leaves. Those eyes wandered, lids half closed, the desire to sleep apparant, but the will to fight it still strong. It counted the prey that could be filling its stomach at that moment. There, taking a drink from the water-a gazelle. To the left, lazing in the tall grass-a zebra. Further along, resting against a tree-a wild horse. So much good food, going to waste.

And yet, they could not be left like that, thinking they were safe, becoming smug, so the panther took a deep breath, opened its jaws wide, and let out a scream to peirce the Sahara. The zebra and horse to such a fright that the horse's neigh scared the zebra right under the panther's tree. Looking down, the panther growled, low and menacing. The zebra, shaking, looked up, saw the panther, and ran as fast as it could up and over the edge of sight until it was gone.

Only one of the animals hadn't been startled by the scream-the gazelle. Apparently it had been lulled into a false sense of security by the fact that the scream had come, not the predator. For that, heat or no, the gazelle would pay. The panther's legs tensed, muscles rippling in its flank. Tail still swinging, it pounced over the edge of the branch, fell ten feet, and hit the ground running. Suddenly the gazelle sensed something wrong, and began to run, but it was too late. With a triumphant roar, the panther jumped, landing atop the gazelle to bring it down. Tearing out its throat to ensure the meal would not escape, the panther gracefully sat. After gasping for air, the panther reached its long neck down and tore a strip of meat right off the gazelle, opening its side from neck to paw.

It greedily guzzled the gazelle's blood, gulping down the bite without attempting to chew. The nest two pieces went down the same way. Finally, thirst quenched, the panther slowed its intake, taking time to tenderize the piece with its teeth before sending the morsel to its stomach. And what a delicious gazelle it was. In its prime, with plenty of thick, juicy muscle, the gazelle was just what a hungry panther needed on a day as hot as this.

[Fana]

The day was certainly one to roast the pads off most paws, but Fana was well used to this heat, for she was one of the creatures born to live within it, and her large paws were perfectly able to cross scorching sands for a long amount of time without cracking, peeling, or burning over in painful welts. That was the way of the lioness.

Heavy paws trudged through the sands of the Zimbabwe land now, her paler than most coat matted with a faint touch of sweat and her blue-grey eyes half-hidden under partially open lids. Her tongue lolled from between two of her sharpest lower canines, seeking moisture to lather up saliva and push refreshment down Fana's wide throat.

On and on she walked, passing different locations, some familiar but carrying different scents each day, before she reached the oasis, a fine replica of a mirage, yet with reality flourishing in it's fresh scents. Passing under the shade of a tree which was well occupied by a large family of baboons, Fana came close to the edge of the pool of water before the sweet scent of another feline hit her nostrils.

Stopping in her tracks she raised her head and scanned the surrounding area, spotting the night-coated leopard in less than a minute with a kill under her powerful paws. Fana smiled inwardly, lowering her tongue to lap up water eagerly from oasis as a thought was passed out to the leopard. Please, I mean no harm, do not feel threatened.

She pushed her mouth into the water now, cleaning the blood of her own kill - a fleeing zebra - off her maw. Her shoulder blades protruded in the perfect picture of feline as she drank, her ears moving with whatever sounds - chiefly the shrieks of warning from the baboons - caught her attention, while the black tip of her white tail flickered like the head of a snake.