That space on the wall had been empty long enough. The space was to be filled with the King of Beasts, and Jasper Feldstaff Jr. was going to ensure that it was. With his old man’s money to burn, Jasper was going on a trip to Africa. He had already mounted four of the five most prized African big-game animals on his trophy room wall. The heads of the elephant, rhinoceros, leopard, and buffalo looked lonely. They needed an additional companion, but his collection would be complete this week.
Jasper knew that his father looked down on him with disdain, that his playboy lifestyle and lack of ambition or business acumen were a source of consternation for the old man. Jasper didn’t care. His sole desire at this time was to add to his trophy wall—any of the old man’s other bullshit would have to wait.
He stood, tumbler of Macallan 64-year-old whiskey in hand, and went to his ornate gun cabinet. Jasper gently set down his Swarovski crystal glass, careful not to spill its contents. He thumbed open the cabinet lock and reached inside. Jasper withdrew his Holland & Holland .500 Nitro Express big-game rifle, for which he had paid a cool $137,733.28 of his dad’s money. He hefted it, loving its weight. Looking down the barrel, Jasper’s lip curled. His lion safari awaited. Time to pack.
~~~
The sounds of consumption had nearly ended. Masticating was slowing; a quiet was descending on the pride. Benroy, the alpha, had slumped over on a tufted knoll of browning scrub grass that placed him above his family. He was fully satiated, belly full, senses dulled. He looked and was pleased with what he saw—pleased with all but one. Too engorged to argue, he yawned and slowly closed his eyes.
Rori regarded her mate, happy that Benroy hadn’t called out Namib for his odd behaviour. The sounds of licking and cleaning commenced as they always did. The cubs even licked at their siblings’ bloody matted fur. Rori gracefully stood (not an easy task for a lioness who was well into her three-and-a-half-month gestation period) and approached the group of three cubs that included Namib. She stood over her charges, assessing them as they frolicked. They immediately quieted as her shadow cast over them. After several anxious moments of silence, Rori finally spoke.
Keeping her tone light so as not to disturb Benroy, she purred, “You must eat as the others, Namib. I see the loss of weight in your loins. You must eat!”
“I do, Mother. I eat what I enjoy.”
Rori could see the look of defiance on Namib’s features. Always the rebel, this one, she thought, smiling internally at his strong will.
“You are a lion: you must eat meat,” she insisted.
“I don’t enjoy it, Mother. I can get by on grasses and berries,” Namib responded as he looked at the lioness. Her intense stare made him turn aside. Namib pawed at the dirt as he hung his head. His siblings, Amra and Izem, drifted away from Namib and Rori, wanting nothing to do with the conversation to follow.
Under his breath, Namib reiterated, “I don’t enjoy it.”
“Of this you have no choice. You are a lion, and you will eat meat. It is the way of our kind,” Rori insisted, keeping her voice low.
“It is barbaric, Mamma! We hunt and kill! Days ago, we killed two zebra foals. They did us no wrong, yet we feasted on them. I saw the look on their mother mare’s face: her eyes were dazed. She was lost without her children. We did that to her—to them,” Namib pleaded.
Rori was losing patience with her cub. “Think of all of the starving prides south of us. They are slowly dying, being forced out of their native lands by the devils that walk on two feet. Here, we have an abundance of meat, and you refuse to eat any. You must eat meat if you are to remain as one of ours!”
“Then I won’t stay. To live as our pride does is something I won’t do,” Namib challenged his mother defiantly.
“Keep it down, you foolish cub! We can’t have your father hearing you utter such blasphemy. He’ll release you from the safety of our numbers. If you continue this way, you’ll be excommunicated!” As she stated this, Rori less than gently pawed her cub to the ground and lay upon him. Namib struggled under her weight, the rest of the pride looking on as he squirmed. The other lionesses of the pride—Willa, Kenda, Nova and Sheba—felt the discomfort this stubborn cub caused. They knew that what Rori said was true. Namib would be shunned if he continued his insistence on a vegan diet. They all feared for the cub’s safety: Benroy was not a king to be trifled with.
Namib continued to battle with his mother.
“It’s for your own safety that I do this. It hurts me more than it hurts you, Son,” Rori roared. She chomped on the scruff of his neck and lifted his protesting body. Dragging him to the stripped-down remains of the bloody carcasses in the centre of the pride, she flopped him onto them with a powerful heave.
None of the pride had seen Benroy stirring, such was their concentration on the ruckus between lioness and cub. His irritation at the exchange was at an all-time high. He had enough of this insubordination and stupidity! They were lions—they ate meat! He would set his son straight, or the cub would die. Benroy sauntered up behind the pride, unnoticed.
With a mighty, ground-shaking roar that could be heard five miles away, he bellowed, “NAMIB, I INSIST THAT YOU EAT! You’ll strip that bone to the best of your ability, or I’ll kill you myself. You’ll go nowhere until you have finished all that is in front of you.”
Namib looked up in fear. He’d never heard the king growl with such anger and knew this wasn’t the time to argue. Namib sniffed at the partially khaki-clad leg in front of him and reluctantly proceeded to bite down on it. His canines ripped into what little remained of a thigh muscle.
~~~
Article found in Chad Daily Dispatch, Monday, March 13, 2023:
A hunting expedition with seven Americans, including billionaire
playboy Jasper Feldstaff Jr. and three guides has not returned
from an unplanned weekend excursion. Friends who stayed
back are worried for their safety. Search parties are being
assembled. They were heading into one of the most densely
populated lion reserves...
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