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THE SPIRIT QUEST

Part Two of Chronicles of the Pride Lands 
by John Burkitt and David Morris



LEGAL NOTE:  This original copyrighted work is based on Walt Disney's 
feature film, "The Lion King."  Elements taken directly from "The Lion 
King" are the property of The Walt Disney Company.  "The Spirit Quest" 
is distributed free of charge excepting  reasonable distribution costs.  
Quoting passages from our work, writing original pieces based on our 
work, or using characters we created is fine as long as you secure prior 
approval.  That begins by sending either of us a copy of the work.  Our 
e-mail addresses are:

David A. Morris:	damorris@wilmington.net
John H. Burkitt:  john.burkitt@nashville.com

Your comments on our work, pro and con, are always welcome.

This story is a fictional work, but we don't claim that any resemblance 
to any characters living or dead is purely coincidental.  With love and 
respect, we acknowledge the debt we owe to those who taught us how to 
laugh and cry.  Without acting as clear models for any one character, 
many great souls, some non-human, have been woven deeply into the fabric 
of our lives only to end up in "The Spirit Quest."



FOREWORD BY THE AUTHORS:

	In the middle of writing this work, the awesome power of nature 
reaffirmed itself.  Hurricane Fran devastated portions of David's 
hometown and we were out of touch for several days.  I never realized 
before how much I missed his friendship, gentle humor and insights; 
things I no longer take for granted.  As Uzuri so truly said, "There is 
not much time between sunrise and sunset.  If you would not be caught 
out after dark, you must leave some time for all the important things." 
	This work tackles the unique perspective of Rafiki without being a 
simple restatement of Chronicles.  Reading it, you will find that there 
is a little Rafiki in all of us.
	Now let us discuss lions and ourselves.  Male lions sometimes kill 
cubs when they take over a pride.  Sometimes they won't, and that is 
very significant.  Leonine society is a patchwork quilt of 
possibilities, probabilities, and the occasional life that sets a higher 
goal for the species.  Human society is much the same in its diverse 
way.  We have hopeful possibilities, depressing probabilities, and the 
occasional life that sets a higher goal for our species, like Moses, 
Francis of Assisi and Florence Nightingale.  The Nazi holocaust and the 
Mayan sacrifice of war prisoners were documented human behaviors.  You 
are human.  That means these things are part of the observed behaviors 
of YOUR species.  Does that make you feel offended?  Many of us are 
repelled by these events, though events such as this form a recurring 
pattern in the history of our species.  Pick up the paper-they are still 
occurring and most likely will continue despite our best efforts.  By 
this criterion, "Cruelty, Human" has earned a place right before "Cub 
Killing, Male Lion," in the encyclopedia of behaviors.  Is this intended 
as a stinging indictment of the human race?  Hardly.  What about the 
"Magna Charta," Robert Louis Stevenson, and Livingstone's charity 
hospital in Central Africa?  Isn't that also part of the human legacy?  
Sure it is.  "Magna Charta" comes before "Mother Love, Lioness."  A 
light begins to shine on you, and the meaning becomes clear.  We are not 
that different--not really.  A divine spark of love in each of us waits 
for the chance to burst into flame.  Tend it, encourage it, add the  
tinder of respect and blow upon it softly with kind words.  Those of us, 
human, lion, and mandrill, who burn brightly in the darkness not only 
walk with God, we light the path for others.  Follow this trail and 
strive to set a higher goal for yourself and your species--it is your 
own Spirit Quest.

					John Burkitt, Nashville, Tennessee
					October 1, 1996

	It's good to be back again.  It feels like a homecoming, to be 
back in the Pride Lands.  There are so many wondrous places to go, and 
faces to see...like the song says, "There's more to be seen, than can 
ever be seen; more to do than can ever be done."  So stay a little 
longer with us.
	There's a few other places we still have yet to visit.
	On Saturday night, September 7th, Hurricane Fran had smashed her 
way into history here in Wilmington.  With the power out, I was sitting 
in the pitch blackness of my room, trying to write down a scene for this 
story by candlelight when the phone rang.  To my utter delight, I heard 
John's voice on the other end.  His selfless concern for me moved me to 
tears, and the buoyant effect on my spirits was immeasurable.  I count 
myself lucky to have such a friend.

					David Morris, Wilmington, North Carolina
					October 1, 1996

DEDICATION:

	This work is dedicated to Aslan, the lion whom we have adopted 
through the Born Free Foundation.  His newfound freedom and the loving 
care given him by his friends in the BFF is a source of joy for our 
spirits.

	And how I love you!  You make the morning start
	Joy streaming from my heart as I repeat your name;
	You are my treasure.  You came into my world;
	Whatever Fate may hold, my life won't be the same.



PROLOGUE

			"The righteous are bold as a lion."

				        ---  Proverbs 28:1 

	Early one morning Busara, a young Mandrill shaman, was headed far 
afield to gather Tiko root.  It was scarce and very valuable, but he 
knew some secret places to gather it easily.
	Since his income relied on a secret, he was careful not to be 
followed.  He only told his wife where the mint grew, and he was careful 
never to take the same route twice.
	This day, he dared to ford the tall savanna grass.  He was 
surrounded by golden wands that screened his enemies but shifted noisily 
around him and crackled under his feet.  He was very nervous, and felt 
like he was being watched.  He stopped and listened carefully, glancing 
about for signs of watchful eyes.
	He spotted a lioness in the grass and gasped.  For a heart-
stopping moment, he sized up his situation.  She had seen him and was 
watching his every movement.  He began to tremble violently.
	He thought about walking quietly away, but knew it would probably 
trigger a spring and certain death.  The moment he ran, she would 
pursue.  "Great Pishtim," he thought, "hear my prayers.  If I must die 
today, gather up my soul.  But please don't let me die!"
	But he then saw the ugly red gash on her shoulder.  No one hunted 
cape buffalo without risk: she had gambled and lost.  She would not 
spring on him.  In fact, she was the one who was afraid.
	Relieved, he took in a deep breath and slowly let it out.  The air 
felt good, venting the fear from his lungs.  He started to walk off, 
still a little trembly in the limbs.  He thought about his wife and home 
that had for a moment seemed forever lost.  "Once I get home, I'm going 
to kiss that girl!"  He would also make an offering to Pishtim, and 
remember to pray for that poor lioness--may her suffering be cut short.
	He tried to block out her pained expression.  It would not be 
easy, for Busara was a healer and compassion was his way to worship God.  
Once when he was a child his father had taken in a sick leopard cub.  
For three agonizing days and nights, he watched as one formula after 
another failed to satisfy her needs.  Finally with a faint cry, she died 
of starvation in his arms.  Somehow at that moment it did not matter 
that leopards eat mandrills.  Busara wept and held the still-warm body 
until it was cool.  It was his first experience with death, but 
certainly not his last.  He knew that death was a part of life, and he 
knew he was not responsible for the wound that brought down the once 
mighty lioness.  Still each death took a small chunk from his soul, and 
he would bleed inside.  Many old wounds were reopening.
	"I will pray for her," he said.  "There is nothing more that I can 
do.  She is dying, and yet she could kill me too."
	He kept walking.  There was Tiko root to gather.  He had a wife to 
support and herbs to trade for.  After all, he had devoted his life to 
healing the sick.  If he threw away his life on this lioness, many would 
die on some future day.  There was simply nothing he could do!
	"Pishtim, take care of her.  Shorten her suffering.  Take pity on 
her."  The fearful eyes and the ugly wound haunted him.  How that must 
hurt!  How pained and thirsty she must be, panting away her last 
moisture, watching her life ebb away in a red river of death.  "There's 
nothing I can do!"
	He was nearly to the patch, and maybe work would take his mind off 
of her.  But something inside him grew sick--the kind of sickness even 
Tiko root cannot dispel.  He tried to walk forward, but he felt himself 
being dragged back.  "If I were alone, and did not have a wife, I would 
go back.  But I must consider Kima's welfare."
	He stopped.  He knew that a compassionate husband left home, but a 
different husband would return if he could abandon that creature to a 
slow death.  He may look the same as the old Busara, but inside he would 
be more cynical and less caring.  He did not like the person he was in 
danger of becoming.
	Against his common sense, he turned back.  "I'm going to regret 
this."
	She greeted his arrival with a snarl that made the hair on the 
back of his neck stand on end.  "Go away!  Buzz off, ape!"
	He stared at the shoulder.  Clearly, she could not walk well, if 
at all.
	"I said beat it!  You think you can throw sticks and stones at me?  
You think you're really funny??  I'll make you laugh till you beg death 
to release you!"
	Busara just stood there staring, tears in his eyes and his chin 
beginning to quiver.  Despite her spirit, she was obviously afraid and 
in deep anguish.  He took a gourd from his staff.  "There is an artery 
just under the skin on my throat," he said calmly, drawing a line with 
his finger.  "If you rake me there, I will die in two minutes, maybe 
three and you won't have to die alone."
	The lioness was surprised by his answer.  "You're very brave--or 
very stupid."
	Busara reached in the gourd and took some moistened herbs.  "Lie 
still."  He started to put the herbs on the wound when a paw swept out 
and struck his hand.  Busara moaned and clutched his bleeding hand.  No 
doubt she expected him to run.  Her expression changed from anger to 
surprise.
	Without unkind words he gathered up the scattered herbs from the 
grass.  Setting the example by putting a small dose on his own hand, he 
said, "I mean you no harm.  A little more still, if you please."
	Patiently, but trembling, he reached toward the wound.  "This 
won't hurt a bit--I promise."
	"What is that stuff?"
	"It will relieve your pain."
	"It looks like weeds to me."
	"It can save you."  He reached for her jaw and before she knew 
what to expect he slipped his other hand in her mouth.  Her eyes turned 
to stare at him.  "Consider it our agreement.  If I hurt you, bite it 
off."
	Despite her misgivings, she held still and let him place the 
poultice on the wound.  It did not pain her, so she even let him poke 
and prod around the wound, then massage the area to restore circulation.  
	She sighed with relief and let go of his hand.  "That does feel 
better," she said.  "I have been stoned by monkeys before.  I didn't 
know they could be kind."
	He looked into the large, beautiful eyes of the lioness.  "Anyone 
can be kind."
	She looked back.  "You're crying, aren't you?"
	"The Bedango makes my eyes water."  He wiped his eyes and got 
another gourd.  "Here, drink this water."
	Slowly and carefully he poured its contents into her mouth.  Some 
of it spilled, but enough made it into her parched throat to bring a 
smile of relief.  "The gods must have sent you.  What is your name?"
	"Busara."
	"`Teacher.'  That is a good name.  I am Asumini."
	"That means `jasmine.'  A delicate flower."  He looked at his cut 
hand and glanced at her injured but still powerful arm.  With a smile of 
amusement, he harvested grass, then raised her head and made a soft 
cushion.  "Asumini, as soon as you can walk we have to get you out of 
this sun.  I live in a cave nearby.  There you will be safe from the 
jealous eyes of night."
	"I can't stay here.  I can't eat fruit, and you're no hunter."
	"I'll scavenge."
	"You'll drive off the hyenas, eh?"  She looked at him wistfully.  
"I know I am not long for this world, but I will pray for you, Busara."
	"There must be someone that can help you," Busara said.  "Don't 
you have family or friends?"
	"My husband and my pride sisters," she said.  "If you would go to 
the west to Pride Rock, surely the gods would repay you someday.  As you 
walk, chant `Aiheu abamami,' so they will know you are a friend.  Tell 
them Asumini sent you."
	"I will find them."
	"It's a long trek."
	"It does not matter."  He reached down and stroked her face.  
"Don't worry.  This time death will not win.  I promise."
	Her tongue touched his hand.  "I won't forget you."
	"And I won't forget you."  Clearly it was not the Bedango that 
made his eyes water that time.
	Thus begun the `Peace of Asumini' which made Mandrills corban--
safe from harm--which is still honored in the Pride Lands to this day.


CHAPTER 1:  RAFIKI IS BORN

	The mandrill Neema was crying out in anguish as she brought her 
child into the world.  Her husband, Chief Kinara, had sat unruffled 
through many struggles with a calm smile.  Now he was clearly in 
distress listening the muffled moaning of his wife.  His sons Makedde 
and Makoko were trying to comfort him as best they could.
	"Bear down," the midwife said.  "It will hurt more, but it is much 
quicker.  Bear down."
	A piercing scream left no doubt it hurt.  "Oh gods!  Oh gods!  See 
me through!"
	The midwife said, "The more it hurts, the more you will love your 
child."
	"If I love him much more, it'll kill me!!"
	Even in her pain, she kept a little sense of humor.  But the chief 
was not amused.  He kept wringing his hands and pacing around.  "Why 
doesn't she hurry!"
	"She's doing the best she can," Makedde said.  "Some things can't 
be hurried."
	"That's it," said the midwife.  "Come on, Neema!  It's almost 
over!"
	Finally there was a cry that sounded more like a call of relief.  
And a few moments later came a shrill yip showed that a new voice was 
speaking.
	At long last the midwife came for the Chief.  The young sons were 
warned away for now.  "You'll get your chance.  Don't crowd the mother."
	Chief Kinara looked at Neema and the small moist bundle of fur and 
long limbs she held.  "Our son," she whispered.
	"Our son," he said, bending down to kiss Neema's perspiring brow.  
"You said you wanted a daughter this time.  Did you change your mind?"
	"I stick with what works.  You know that."
	He turned the small face to look at him.  With a slight shrug, he 
contemplated the somewhat plain but pleasant visage.  "Metutu," he said, 
for the child was no beauty but also was not ugly.  The midwife, not 
understanding, went outside and said, "Listen all!  Chief Kinara has a 
son.  By the will of the gods, Metutu!"
	Neema frowned at her husband.  "Now look what you've done."
	"It means one whose face does not lie."
	"It also means plain one."
	"He's the son of the chief.  They better not call him `plain one' 
if they know what's good for them!"  He bent down and looked into the 
child's eyes.
	"Oh look, he's smiling at me!"
	"It's probably gas," Neema said.
	"I tell you he's smiling," Kinara stressed.  "And well he might 
smile.  His life will be easy and free from pain, at least if I have any 
say over it."  He kissed the child.  "Welcome home, Metutu."



CHAPTER 2:  GROWING PAINS

	Metutu's first days at home were a series of pleasant experiences.  
Kinara's promise was being fulfilled, for the only hardships he'd ever 
known were in the stories of gods and heroes his mother used to tell.  
His every need was taken care of by his devoted mother and his trusted 
servants.
	When he turned three, the age where other young mandrills took on 
small chores, Metutu was told to keep a sharp eye on the servants and 
make sure they did not shirk their jobs.  Even then, there was no doubt 
he was being groomed for leadership, perhaps as the next chief.
	Metutu's brothers were much older.  They treated their young 
sibling with affection and gentleness, but they were interested in 
playmates more their own age that understood the rough, complex games of 
older boys.  So when Metutu wanted a playmate, Busara was careful to 
select someone about his age, a bright, polite youth from one of the 
powerful families on the council.  Wandani by his temperment and 
learning was the clear choice.  In addition, his parents were strongly 
loyal to Kinara's administration, so Wandani would never try to 
influence the Chief through his son.
	By the time they had coached Wandani on his duties, he knew the 
honor given him was balanced with the weight of responsibility he bore.  
The only remaining question was if Metutu would like him.  That was 
quickly settled to the joy of all--Metutu was delighted with him.
	It would be unkind to suggest that Wandani was only doing his job.  
Metutu was a gentle soul, much like his mother.  He didn't have the 
charm of his father, but he had no lack of compassion as far as his 
sheltered life would let him understand it.  Wandani quickly warmed to 
this, and it was expressed in the zealous way he carried out his job.
	Metutu knew that he was different from the others.  He knew that 
other children were not as privileged, and had to work harder.  He also 
knew that others, including Wandani, had a sort of beauty on the outside 
that he lacked.  Once Metutu asked him if he were really so plain, and 
Wandani was beside himself with passionate denials.  But Metutu knew he 
was no great prize, and he reaffirmed his belief by a quick glance at 
his reflection in the water.
	Wandani, in a moment of great maturity, told Metutu that his 
beauty was on the inside.  It was little comfort when Metutu took a 
great deal of ribbing about it from some the other youths.  They seized 
upon his name as a cruel taunt.  Still, he never forgot what Wandani 
said.  Like most young males, he was not overly demonstrative about his 
feelings toward his playmates.  But in his love for Wandani, he would 
often call him by the name he would come to bear himself: Rafiki 
Wandani, "my dearest friend Wandani."
	Most of the time Metutu played with Wandani and Asumini, the 
daughter of Chief Scribe Busara.  It was rumored that this Asumini was 
named after an old lioness that used to visit Busara's cave.
	Those two friends were his circle, and with his parents formed 
much of his world.  Kinara often wondered if it would be healthy for his 
young son, or if it would withdraw him from the world.  If ANYTHING, an 
up and coming politician must be able to mix with people well.  There 
lay the problem: Kinara wanted him to like other people but not imitate 
them.  He would invite the "right" people to his home after coaching 
Metutu on what to say and how to behave.  Metutu would shyly stammer 
through the mandatory greetings when others came by, and then would more 
likely than not hide himself away at the first chance.  But around 
Wandani and Asumini he was bubbly, friendly, and even a little bit of a 
show-off.
	Every time Kinara would contemplate doing something to change his 
son into a small version of himself, Neema would quietly and subtly 
change his mind.  She was in her meek, quiet way the greatest power in 
the village.  And she liked Metutu just the way he was.  Her love for 
him was unconditional, and her only plan for him was to find happiness.
	On the other hand, a bully, named Duma, devoted himself to making 
Metutu's life miserable.  He was about Wandani's age, but otherwise he 
was everything Wandani was not--crude, unfair, and quick to say things 
that cut the spirit to the deep arteries.  His knack was in finding 
Metutu and Wandani when the other adults were not around.  And worse, he 
always had several of his own shiftless friends with him.  But when it 
comes to actually pounding Metutu into the ground, he would draw the 
line.  As loyal Wandani would quickly remind him, "You better not!  I'll 
go call the Chief and YOU'LL be sorry."
	The threat was a magic talisman, a mark of the great respect paid 
Kinara by young and old alike.  Metutu was glad for the safety, and he 
was also glad that he did not have to utter the shameful excuse himself.  
Still, bullies could come and go, but he would always be plain.  
Sometimes he would sneak away and cry until he was ready to face the 
world once more.

CHAPTER 3:  UNDER CONTROL

	"Four large stones he had tossed, and still the leopard came 
closer.  Little Brother Chako had only the small one left.  This he 
tossed at a nearby hornet's nest.  Kerplunk!  It fell onto the leopard's 
back, and with great anger the hornets came out to avenge this outrage.  
Only they directed their attack at the leopard who had to run for his 
life!  And Little Brother Chako laughed loudly.  `It's not how big the 
rock is, but how you throw it that counts!'"

                        -- "LITTLE BROTHER CHAKO", SECTION 10-B

	Metutu, Wandani and Asumini had been playing tag, but it 
eventually lost its edge and they sought new pursuits.
	"I know where there is this great tree with lots of vines," Metutu 
said.  "Come on."
	He headed off into the jungle where there were no paths.  "Where 
are we going?" Wandani asked.  "This place is dangerous!"
	"Dangerous?" Asumini said.  "I don't know about this."
	"Aw, don't be such a big mwana!  I've been here lots of times.  
It's safe!"
	Wandani threw up his hands.  "You've been sneaking away again.  
You know your dad would whack me good if he knew."
	"Yeah, but he doesn't know.  And he won't know if you don't tell 
him.  The way I look at it is this--he doesn't think we should do fun 
stuff till we're too old to have fun doing it.  I mean, how many times 
have you seen HIM swinging from a vine?"
	Wandani scratched his head.  "I still don't like it."  Still he 
came, and Asumini followed.  The subtle marks on tree trunks showed that 
Metutu HAD been that way at least once before and left his trail.  He 
skipped through the brush with such enthusiasm that before long they 
were all wondering just how good it could be to risk a spanking for 
twice.
	And then they found it.  Twin trees in the middle of a clearing 
with lots of vines that reached the ground.  Metutu pointed excitedly.  
"Check this out!"
	"Yeah!"  Wandani forgot about his unease.  He grabbed a vine, 
stepped back a few paces and pulled up his feet.  "Oh, this is so neat!"  
As he swung, he bellowed out, "Asante sana, squash banana!  We we nugu, 
mi mi apana!"
	Asumini sprang for another vine.  It easily held her weight, and 
she quickly climbed hand-over-hand to a low branch.  She put her knees 
over the branch and hung upside down.  "Hey Metutu, look!"
	"Don't do that!"  Metutu was beside himself.  "You could get 
killed!"
	"I'm fine.  You ought to--oh my gods!"
	"Are you all right??  Hold on, I'll get you!"
	"Leopard!  Get up, get up!!"
	For only a second, Metutu thought it might be a joke.  Then he 
thought better and sprang for a vine, quickly pulling himself up.  
Seconds later, a huge spotted cat lunged and touched the bottom of his 
foot with a swipe of the paw.  Metutu did not stop until he was safely 
in a crotch of the tree between two strong branches.  He glanced around 
for Wandani, but found him hanging from a branch about halfway up the 
tree.
	"You're lucky I saw her," Asumini said.  "You might have been 
killed."  She pulled herself upright and shivered.
	"Oh, I wasn't a'skeerd," Metutu said.  "I was just worried about 
you two.  You gotta let them know who's boss.  They smell fear, you 
know."
	"Really?" Wandani asked.
	"Sure.  Look at that ugly nose.  See, she's sniffing.  Sniffing 
for someone that's afraid, because she won't attack unless you're 
afraid.  She wouldn't dare tangle with me."
	"Well I'm not afraid," Wandani said, pulling a nut and tossing it 
down.  It fell with a plop beside the great cat, and she looked down at 
it with a huff.
	"Can't you hit a target that big?"  Metutu pulled a nut and 
chucked it at her.  With a sudden growl, the leopardess wheeled around 
and struck with her claws.  "Right on the behind!" Metutu said.  "This 
one will go right between the eyes."
	"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Asumini said.  "Big cats have 
a sense of pride.  If you make her mad, she'll come for you."
	"Yeah, right.  Don't worry about me, girl--I have the situation 
under control.
	"I'm telling you, this is a mistake."
	"Oh?  Who made you such an expert on big cats?"
	"I have a lioness for an Auntie, that's who."
	"Yeah?  No foolin?  Well I have an elephant for an Uncle!"  He 
pulled another nut and aimed carefully.  "Look out below!"
	Whap, it struck her right between the eyes making her wince.  "I 
told you to look out!"
	"That's enough, you half pints!"  Enraged, the leopardess began to 
climb the tree.  "I'm going to skin you alive, and every time you scream 
I'm going to laugh!"
      Her heavy but firm treads made the whole tree shake.  She was 
remarkably quick.  The three mandrill children had to make a dizzying 
leap into another tree.  Wandani charged across without a second's 
hesitation.  Asumini leaped and rather than landing with her feet 
grabbed a branch and swung for a moment by her arms.
	Metutu looked down at the ground far below.  It began to spiral 
and he lost his nerve.  Clutching his stomach, he moaned.  "I can't!"  
	The leopardess was working her way out onto the smaller branches.  
His precarious perch began to sway alarmingly.  He found the motivation, 
and with his heart practically in his throat he jumped!  For an awful 
couple of seconds he was airborne between tall trees.  He desperately 
grabbed for a branch.  Gotcha!
	He worked to get his feet on a good-sized branch.  Catching his 
breath, he works his way toward the trunk of the second tree and from 
there hoped to climb down on a vine to safety.
	The leopardess jumped, catching a limb with her forepaws.  After 
hanging for a second with her legs dangling, she felt the limb go 
`crack!'
	The concussion almost threw Metutu off of his perch.  She fell 
from branch to branch, and finally dropped to the ground, her fur 
looking scrubby and flecked with bits of green leaves.  Her dignity 
damaged, but otherwise intact, she licked her paws nonchalantly, then 
sniffed derisively.
	Metutu yelled down, "I'll tell my dad!"
	She shrugged.  "Maybe I'll skin him for raising a brat!"  At once 
she began to climb up the trunk.
	Asumini, her voice trembling, shouted down, "Forgive my friend.  
He was foolish to challenge your honor.  Indeed you are powerful, and 
your anger must be unstoppable.  I crawl before you, Mother of Death."
	The leopardess stopped.  "Your mother has raised you well.  I will 
spare you and the silent one."
	"I plead with you for the blood of mercy.  Remember who separates 
the milk from the mud.  May he separate your anger from your wisdom.  
He's only a child--if he is not killed, he will learn from this."  
Trembling in every limb, Asumini climbed down toward the great cat, her 
breath shallow and fast, and her heart pounding.  As she came closer, 
large hazel eyes watched her every move intently.  With less than an 
arm's length between her and the powerful huntress, she held out a 
trembling hand.
	The leopardess' nose came up very close so that Asumini could feel 
the breath on her hand.  Depending on the merits of her apology, one of 
two things could happen.  Asumini shut her eyes tightly, gasped for air, 
and prayed.
	The pink tongue shot out and licked her hand.  The leopardess 
purred appreciatively.  "My honor is satisfied.  On the off chance that 
you are right, I will spare him--for YOUR sake."
	The leopardess climbed down, but she was in no hurry to leave.  To 
live up to her reputation, she groomed her powerful, lithe body, 
sharpened her scimitar claws on the tree, and made a forced but 
effective yawn to display her arsenal of death.  Then she leisurely 
strolled off into the forest.
	A few minutes later Metutu, who had everything under control, 
could be talked into climbing down to join Wandani and Asumini.  The 
three friends then started home, scratched up and sore, and maybe a 
little bit wiser.  Metutu looked at Asumini and said, "I didn't know you 
liked me that much."
	She scowled and slapped his face with all her might.  "Don't you 
EVER do that to me again!"
	"I'm telling his dad!" Wandani said.
	"Be sure to tell him you started it!  The moment you snitch on me, 
I'm holding nothing back!"
	"You wouldn't tell him that, would you?"
	"Just try me."
	Metutu rubbed his cheek.  "I only meant `thank you.'"
	

CHAPTER 4:  THE TIME TO ACT

	The leopardess was not Metutu's only problem, nor was she his 
worst, for she had a sense of honor and fairness.  As the favorite 
target of the troop's bullies, he was subject to almost daily 
harassment.  And eventually the time had to come when matters would come 
to a head.  Wandani could not be the permanent solution to the problem, 
and threatening Duma with telling Kinara would be trumped.
	That day, Duma, with triumph in his wicked leer said, "Yeah, tell 
his daddy.  The little baby can't take care of himself.  Go tell his 
daddy before he starts crying."
	"I'm no baby!" Metutu said.
	Duma knew he was already winning.  "Don't cry, baby!  Your daddy 
would punish me if I made you cry.  We all know he wouldn't let his ugly 
little babykins get hurt!"
	"I'll tell you who's ugly!"  Metutu said as tears streamed down 
his poor, plain face.  "I hate you!  I hate you!"
	"I'm telling if you hit him!" Wandani shouted at Duma.
	"But you can't!"  Metutu protested.  Metutu took him by the 
shoulders and shook him.  "I'm not a baby.  I have to fight my own 
battles, and you aren't going to tell my Dad, understand?  Promise me."
	"But I can't!"
	"You have to!  If you're really my friend and not just a servant, 
promise me!"
	The tone of that remark stung Wandani who really loved Metutu.  
"If you're really my friend, please don't do it.  He's bigger than you.  
He'll chew you up and spit you out!  Please?"
	"You better listen to your friend," Duma taunted.  "If your face 
got much uglier, you'd have to wear a basket over it."
	Metutu looked at his friend right in the eyes.  "I have to do 
this, my Rafiki Wandani.  Don't make it harder on me than it already is.  
The moment you run to get dad, I'll fight him."
	Tears began to stream down Wandani's cheeks.  "All right.  Do your 
best."
	In fear, but with defiance in his eyes, Metutu pulled up his fists 
and told Duma, "Just the two of us.  Leave him out of it."
	"Anything you say."  Duma saw his hands up protecting his face.  
He made a quick feint at his chin and when Metutu brought his hands 
together, Duma's other fist hit him squarely in the stomach.  Metutu 
doubled over with pain.  He quickly straightened up and tried a few weak 
swings at Duma, but he paid for them with repeated blows to the face and 
stomach that battered him to the limits of his endurance, and as he lost 
control were more like events happening to another person standing on 
the same spot.  He was about to pass out.  Finally Metutu crumpled to 
his knees.  "I give up."
	"It's not that easy," Duma said.  "You started this, and you're 
going to finish it!"
	Wandani pushed Metutu on the ground and fell over him.
	Duma kicked Wandani in the side and struck him in the back.  When 
Duma tried to lift him off, he put his arms around Metutu in a tight 
clinch and gritted his teeth. 
	"Leave him alone!" Wandani cried.  "Go away!"
	"I'm going to finish this!"  Duma viciously kicked Wandani in the 
ribs.
	"You've hurt him enough!  Go away, or I'll fight you myself!  I 
may not win, but I'll mark you!"  Wandani sprang up like a rabid animal 
and grabbed Duma by the fur on his neck, startling him.  His fingernails 
pierced the skin and brought blood.  "I swear, I'll mark you for life 
even if you kill me for it!  You can't get me off that fast!  I'll mark 
you!"
	Duma saw the fun was over, he shoved Wandani away and made a 
forced laugh to his friends.  "You just name the time and place, short 
stuff!  Hey fellows, let's get out of here before the baby starts crying 
again!"

CHAPTER 5:  PLACING THE BLAME

	When everything was still, Wandani got to his feet.  He pulled 
Metutu upright, not an easy job for Metutu was nearly battered 
senseless, bleeding from the nose and horribly bruised.  "Oh Metutu, why 
won't you listen to me?"
	Metutu said, "Don't be mad at me Rafiki Wandani."  He put his arms 
around him to hold upright, but he was also clearly hugging him as the 
tears ran down Wandani's cheeks.  "You can't fight all my battles.  I'm 
sorry if I hurt your feelings.  You still my Rafiki?"
	"Always."  Wandani held Metutu upright and let him lean on him all 
the way home.
	"Do you think Dad will notice?"
	"On a new moon night under a bush with his eyes closed he would 
notice."
	Kinara was already fit to be tied.  He was angry over Old Maloki, 
the neighboring chieftain.  "You would think he was trading us Tiko Root 
at those rates!  Five bundles of Bonewort, and for this wilted Mitobi 
stalk!  Just look at it--it looks like it sat out in the sun!"  The 
chief looked around.  "Son?  Oh my gods!  Have you two been fighting??"
	"Not each other," Metutu said.  "Wandani's my friend."
	His mother was openly horrified and rushed to embrace her son and 
kiss him.  His father was angry, but maintained a certain gentle outward 
charm that kept the rank and file of mandrills guessing.
	"Now tell me who did this to you.  It's all right.  I'm not angry.  
Well, I am, but not at you."
	"I can't tell.  I'm not a baby.  I promised I wouldn't go telling.  
If I tell, everyone will think I'm a baby."
	"You promised that?"  Kinara smiled--a genuine smile--and he 
gently stroked Metutu's cheek with his fingertips.  "A little boy went 
out to play, and he came back a buck."
	Metutu's battered face broke out in a warm smile.
	"Who won?"
	Metutu's smile dropped.  "He pounded me into the ground.  If 
Wandani hadn't covered me, I'd still be lying there."
	Kinara gave him a hug.  "You won anyhow.  You conquered yourself, 
and that is no small thing."
	"Wandani helped a lot.  He fought like a honey badger.  See, he's 
cut up pretty bad."
	"I can see.  And don't think he won't get his reward."  Kinara 
took Wandani away a distance, leaving Metutu with his mother.
	Kinara said in a low voice, "Who hurt my son?"
	"He made me promise I wouldn't tell."
	Without showing anger, but only concern, he said, "I promise YOU 
something, Wandani.  If you don't tell me who did this, your father will 
not get his promotion on the council.  I expect a priest to have a 
family that respects the law above rash promises."  Kinara looked at the 
scratched, bruised face of Wandani and saw the tears start.  He knelt 
and hugged the child.  "I won't tell him you told.  He will never have 
to find out.  But how can we protect him if you won't be open with me?  
Hmm?  You can see that I want to do MY share protecting him too."
	Shamed, Wandani bowed his head and cried.  "It was Duma."
	"Duma," the Chief said slowly.  "Nyongo's son.  Always thinks he's 
so much better than the rest of them, but he strikes a harmless child."  
He ruffled Wandani's hair affectionately.  "I will see that Metutu is 
safe in the future, and you too, you little squirt."  Kinara faced him 
and smiled warmly.  "Friends?"
	"Friends."
	Kinara kissed him on the forehead.  "You were always my fourth 
son, you know?  If your dad says anything about you fighting, tell him 
that I called you a great hero.  Now run on home."
	The Chief came back to his son.  "Metutu, I'm proud of you.  You 
know, bravery is one of the marks of a true chief.  Even if you don't 
tell me who this bully is, I know one thing about him.  He thinks he has 
you licked, but he's not half the buck you are.  Don't you cower down 
when you pass him.  Show him you are confident.  When you pass him, look 
him in the eye.  If you cower down, he'll will know he's won and he'll 
do it again.  The next best thing to being stronger is to be strong 
enough that you're not worth the effort."
	"Do you really think he'll leave me alone now?"
	"I'm sure of it."
	Metutu did not have to wait long to find out.  The next day, he 
had to run an errand for his father.  No servant could do it this time--
Kinara insisted that he do it in person.  Wandani went with him for 
moral support, and even to make good on his threat, but Metutu was still 
vulnerable and frightened.
	And yet his old worries about what being beaten up were worse than 
the pain itself.  Now fighting was not an unknown terror, but an 
unpleasant memory.  He was not as afraid as he used to be, and he 
determined that he would control his fear and face Duma.  Maybe he would 
smile and say, "Good morning."  Yes, that felt safe enough.  Of course, 
there was the chance that Duma would say, "It's a good morning, but not 
for you."  That was a chance he had to take.
	Duma was not waiting for him by the Acacia tree.  He was not in 
his usual place next to the basket weaver.  In fact, for a while Metutu 
was certain he had left the village.  
	"It's late enough.  I thought he'd be up by now."
	Then by the path leading to the Council Rock, Duma appeared.
	Metutu faced him directly.  "Good morning, Duma."
	Duma bit his lip.  His face, on closer inspection, was badly 
swollen and bruised.  "Yeah.  Good morning."  He came over, but not to 
push him.  "Look, Metutu.  I'm, like, really sorry I hit you and Wandani 
here.  You're not a baby and you're not ugly.  I just said those things 
because of the other guys."
	"That's fine.  I forgive you."
	"Are you all right?"
	"Still a little sore."  Metutu looked more closely at Duma.  "I 
know I never hit you that hard.  Who lit into you?  Did Wandani do all 
that??"
	"Don't worry about it."
	"I don't know who messed you up, but I didn't tell.  Honest."
	"I said don't worry about it, all right??"  He dropped his stern 
tone.  "I'm sorry I hit you.  It will never happen again."
	"That's nice.  Well, good bye."
	 Metutu breathed a sigh of relief and went on.  Still in the back 
of his mind was a nagging doubt.  Somehow, some way, a witness must have 
told his dad.  But to have a boy beaten like that?  Surely that was not 
in the village law?  Then it occurred to him that his father sent him on 
that errand just to hear Duma's apology.  Somehow his Dad knew he'd be 
there cut and bleeding.  He knew because he had caused it.
	Metutu still loved his father, and he understood that Kinara loved 
him too.  But he didn't know if he was proud of his Dad or ashamed of 
him.



CHAPTER 6:  SHIFTING THE BURDEN

	As soon as Asumini heard about Metutu's fight, she came to see 
him.  Metutu cringed, expecting another upbraiding over the leopardess.  
Instead, she was kind and sympathetic.
	Metutu was thankful to have her back.  "It was worth getting 
beaten up if it means you like me again.  I missed you."
	"I never stopped liking you," Asumini said.  "You just need to 
learn a little humility.  How do you think I would have felt hearing 
your screams?  Watching you die?"  She caressed his swollen cheek with 
her hand.
	"Yeah,"  Metutu looked down, contritely, but he glanced up out of 
the corner of his eyes and smiled a little.  "Thanks again.  You were 
very brave."
	Asumini smiled.  "I don't know where it came from.  Every time I 
think about how close she was to my hand, I wonder if I had it to do 
over again...."
	"Oh, yeah.  I know how you feel."  Metutu's smile fell.
	"I was just kidding--but don't put me to the test."
	"Since you're here, I'd like to go skip rocks.  Wanna come with 
me?"
	"I can't right now.  Later, all right?"
	"Sure."  He rubbed his cheek again.  "You sure you're not mad at 
me?"
	"Sure I'm sure."  She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.  
"There, now it will be all better."
	Metutu looked at Asumini, open-mouthed with embarrassment.  "Maybe 
tomorrow?"
	"We'll see."
	Early the next day, Metutu came to her cave.  He caught a rare 
glimpse of her parents inside.  Busara and Kima were the subjects of a 
lot of nasty rumors, including one about blood sacrifices under the full 
moon.  Still, their daughter was so gentle and kind.  How could there be 
any substance behind those stories?
	"Asumini?  Can you come out?"
	She skipped to him, but saw him holding the smooth stone.  In her 
hand was a grass whiskbroom.  "Oh, the creek.  I forgot."
	"Yeah."  He shifted his weight from foot to foot.  "Can you get 
away for a moment?  I mean, I was hoping we could beat our old record."
	"I'm sorry, but I have chores to do."
	"But Asumini, you promised!  I can have one of the servants come 
over and sweep the cave.  They don't mind."
	"I'd rather do what dad told me to."
	"I won't tell if you don't."
	She frowned.  "That's being sneaky.  I thought you were better 
than that, but then how could you be with a politician as a father?  
You're growing up to be just like him."
	"And just what did you mean by THAT?"
	"My dad said Kinara is a leopard at heart, and he didn't mean it 
nice!"
	The reference to the leopard made Metutu rankle.
	"Well that's a fine how-do-you-do!  I come over to throw rocks 
with you, and you insult my Dad!  Well I hear that your Dad is a 
sorcerer.  Tema says he kills goats on nights of the full moon!"
	"That's a mean thing to say!  He's good and gentle and always 
trying to help sick creatures get well!  He's never killed anyone in his 
whole life!  You're an ugly little monster, Metutu!  Go home!"
	Metutu stormed off.  Soon from behind him she called, "I didn't 
mean it!  Oh gods, please come back!"  There was an edge of desperation 
in her voice.
	He wanted to forgive her, but there was also a voice inside him 
that was indignant.  It temporarily had the upper hand.  "She'll be 
sorry she called my dad a leopard!  She called me an ugly little 
monster!"  That was what hurt worst of all, for he knew that by mandrill 
standards he WAS ugly.  "Maybe I won't come back tomorrow either.  She 
can get ALL of her stupid old chores done!"
	Metutu went home.  He climbed to the crotch of the tree where he 
often slept.  There was a knot there that looked like a rabbit looking 
back at it.  "What about it, Bun?  Girls!"
	His dad looked up at him in the fork of the tree.  "Whew, a storm 
must be blowing in--I just saw a cold, dark cloud go by."
	"A thunderhead is more like it."
	"Uh huh.  So, do you want to talk about it?"
	Metutu turned his face to look down at Kinara.  "Dad, why can't 
more females be like Mom?"
	"They are like Mom.  That's the problem."
	"But she doesn't go trying to make you mad all the time.  Does 
she?"
	"No, because I learned the great secret of dealing with her."
	Metutu climbed down.  "Really?  What is it?"
	Kinara looked all around, then whispered into Metutu's ear.  "Give 
them what they want.  They have you where they want you, and the sooner 
you realize that and play along, the better off you are."
	"But she didn't want anything."
	"Asumini, I take it?"
	"Yeah."  Metutu scratched behind his ear nervously.  "Do you know 
what she said?  She said I was growing up to be just like you."
	"Gods forbid!"  Kinara gasped and put his hands to his face.  
"Call the shamans!  This is very serious!"
	Metutu fought back the smile and tried to concentrate on his 
anger.  "She said her dad called you a no-count politician with the 
heart of a leopard, and she didn't mean it as a compliment."
	"A leopard!"  Kinara laughed aloud.  "I've been called worse and 
by more dangerous opponents!  I guess I could see how Busara might think 
it though--being wealthy has dulled his claws.  He surrounds himself 
with comforts and he has all the ambitions of a gopher.  He even lives 
in a hole like one!"  Kinara laughed at his joke, then bucked out his 
front teeth and wiggled his fingers in front of his ears.  "That 
Kinara's a no-good politician with the heart of a leopard!" he said in a 
falsetto voice.  "Bet he's out hunting antelopes tonight!"
	Metutu couldn't control himself anymore and he began to laugh.  
Kinara put his arm around his shoulder and gave him a pat.  "Next time 
you see her, apologize like crazy."
	"For what?"
	"Whatever you did that made Asumini spout off like that.  And 
don't do it again.  She has other talents you're too young to appreciate 
now, but you might want them later."

CHAPTER 7:  GROWING UP

	Metutu's apology must have worked.  As days passed into weeks, and 
weeks into months, he began to see more of Asumini.  From time to time 
he would hear strange stories about her father, but he discounted them 
because of his feelings for her.
	They had an on-again off-again dating relationship.  Usually when 
it was off-again, he had tried to impress her with some new skill.  He 
almost always failed to do so, for she was very well educated where few 
mandrill females are.  The frustrations she heaped on his struggling 
male vanity were actually part of her allure to him.  With each new 
failure, she became more desirable, and if he couldn't impress her with 
athletic ability or wit, he would pursue more intellectual goals.  This 
would prove to be more of a natural strength for him.
	Once he came over to show off what he'd memorized of the Miracle 
Flower Saga.  Because she knew the parts better, she ended up correcting 
him periodically.  It made it difficult for him because the more 
frustrated he became, the more he forgot.  It built on itself.
	For a while he was upset, but he grudgingly admired her abilities.  
He settled back to watch her perform, and paid careful attention.
	As she recited verse, her hand gestures melted one into the other 
with a grace and beauty that made the gods take notice:

		Many days the journey lasted
		As the sunset dies on nightfall
		And the nightfall flees from sunrise
		Ever dancing in the heavens
		Sun and moon would count the hours

		Hearts grew weary, hope was waning
		And their feet grew tired of walking
		Yet so steadfast was their leader
		And his countenance unchanging
		That they dared not disappoint him

		Great Numinu flowed before them
		Guarding with her sacred waters
		All approaches to the garden
		Where the magic blossoms flourished
		Lest a thief should steal their beauty

	She stopped and looked at Metutu's rapt stare.  "Are you all 
right?  Was I doing something wrong?"
	"Nothing wrong," he said slowly.  "You were a goddess speaking 
words as smooth and beautiful as water flowing over stones.  They should 
let you perform for the council."
	"Are you sure it's my voice you like?"
	"Well," he said hesitantly.  "You have special kind of presence 
too.  Your gestures are beautiful.  Everything about you is beautiful.  
Uh, you know what I mean."
	"I know what you mean," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.  
"You're very sweet.  But if you think that's something, you should hear 
me do the leonine ceremony of rising over.  I did that for my Auntie 
Asumini when she died last moon."
	"You did?"  He'd never heard of a female doing ceremonies before.  
"That lioness we've always heard about--so she was real?"
	"I told you I had a lioness as an Auntie.  A second mother was 
more like it."
	"I'm sorry about your loss.  I know you loved her, and it's sad 
that you'll never see her again."
	"Don't be too sorry, `cause when I die, she will be waiting for 
me.  Till then, she is in here."  She put her hand over her heart.  
"Sometimes she's out there too!  There is no difference in the way God 
treats us when we die.  I follow Aiheu, and believe that all animals are 
brothers and sisters."
	Metutu was shocked.  "You're an Aiheuist?  I always thought you 
were one of us."
	"One of you?"  She smiled.  "Everyone is one of you and one of me.  
We are all one large family.  All that divides us is our opinion, but no 
opinion alters the truth  So there is no us and them except in the 
mind."
	"I guess so," he said, dubiously.  "Did your Aunt Asumini teach 
you that?"
	"I have many good friends who happen to be lionesses."
	"Pfff!  Any lions?"
	"Only a couple of times ever saw a grown lion, and didn't get to 
say much, but their manes are so wonderful.  You know, I have a secret 
desire to hold one around the neck and roll in his mane."
	"You would disappear down his throat in seconds.  Maybe two whole 
bites, if he didn't swallow you whole."
	"Have you forgotten the leopardess so quickly?  Didn't you see how 
she did not bite when her honor dictated it?  Teeth and claws are  
sharp, but much more of them is soft and furry."  She sat back against a 
tree trunk.  "They teach you that God is just a bigger one of us.  As if 
one of us could hope to become like Him by simply learning the right 
spells and overcoming mortality.  No.  There is a fairness and kindness 
in Him that is a goal to strive for, but which we could never reach."
	"What does Aiheu look like?"
	"Everything and nothing at the same time."
	"Now that makes NO SENSE."
	"Oh?  Unlike those who follow the great ape Pishtim, we believe 
Aiheu is aware of all things and all peoples.  Otherwise, how could he 
hear our prayers?  So he must not be an old ape, or he would only be one 
place at a time.  The wind is real, but you don't see it's shape.  You 
know it's there because you feel its effects.  And if he is not an old 
ape, than we apes have no basic superiority unless we choose to ACT 
superior.  And that does not come through trickery or negotiation.  It 
comes through compassion, generosity, and honesty.  The traits that make 
us noble make us more like God.  But there are others besides us who 
have those traits, therefore all animals must be brothers and free to 
please the gods.  And greatness is a matter of the heart, not an 
accident of birth."
	"That's a really nice philosophy.  You're as clever as Little 
Brother Chako!"
	"I hope not!  Little Brother Chako was a rogue, someone who did 
not honor his promises.  How we could pick someone like that for a hero 
is a slap in the faces of the gods.  When I ask you to make a promise, I 
expect you to keep it.  When you do, I look up to you.  Those who treat 
me honestly are my brothers and sisters, not Little Brother Chako."
	Metutu looked at her in shock, but not outrage.  "I bet you spend 
a lot of time just thinking."
	"You should give it a try, Metutu."
	"As if I never do?"
	"I don't mean it that way.  It's just that the problem with 
mandrill philosophy is that they teach you WHAT to think, not HOW to 
think.  We're not supposed to question authority."
	"Whoa!  We'll have to continue this talk sometime."  Metutu went 
home.  He was somewhat thoughtful, for she had made many good points.  
"All animals are brothers," he said to himself.  "Even the leopardess 
and I."
	When he reached his home, old Wajoli was waiting for him with a 
bowl.  "Here, Master Metutu, your favorite dish.  Elephant Stew."
	Metutu took the bowl and smelled it.  "Ah, fresh and sweet.  You 
did well."
	Metutu noticed how Wajoli's eyes followed the bowl.  "Have you 
eaten yet?"
	"No sir.  I was running late, so I came straight over here.  I'll 
take care of you first.  When you are finished, if you don't need me 
more, I'd like to go scrounge something up."
	"I see."  Metutu held out the bowl.  "Scrounge this up.  I'll get 
something from the orchard."
	"Oh, no sir!  If your father found out, he wouldn't like that."
	"IF he found out.  But you can go hide behind those trees."
	"Is it not to your liking?"
	"It's fine.  But you know something, Wajoli?  If you would be like 
the gods, you must practice compassion, generosity and honesty.  You've 
always done right by me.  Now I'm going to do right by you."  He handed 
the bowl to Wajoli and gave him a little pat.  "Enjoy, old friend."
	"I will," he said.  "I'll enjoy knowing you are the next Chief, 
even if I don't live to see it."
	A smile spread across Metutu's face.  He headed for the orchard 
with a great joy in his heart that was almost too great for words.  
"Yes!  I feel more godlike already!"



CHAPTER 8: THE GREAT OUTDOORS

	Metutu yawned, scratching his back languidly as he lay sprawled 
upon a branch high in the tall tree that Makedde had made his home in.  
Initially, the move had been exciting.  Metutu had thought that he would 
enjoy the independence from his parents, but after only a few days, he 
had begun to miss the comforts of home already.  He had napped fitfully 
the first night there, awakening abruptly to see the stars dimming in 
the early morning light.  He had arisen eagerly, sitting up and 
stretching...how disappointed he was to find no mother there with a bowl 
of elephant stew to greet him!  No Wajoli, no Wandani, no Asumini.  Only 
his brother there to greet him.
	Makedde picked up his staff, twirling it playfully.  "I usually go 
for a walk in the mornings.  Would you like to come?"
	"Yes!"
	The two descended carefully, pausing at the base of the tree.  
Makedde peered about thoughtfully, then looked at Metutu.  "Which way 
shall we go?"
	"Uh...that way, I guess."  Metutu pointed.
	"Why go that way?"
	Metutu frowned.  "I don't know.  Is there something wrong?"
	"Should there be?" Makedde asked, looking at him intently.
	"Is there a swamp out that way?  Mosquitoes?  Snakes??"
	"What do YOU think," Makedde said with a serious nod and a wink.  
"Use your powers of observation."
	He stared in the general direction.  "Well I...."  Metutu stopped, 
looked at the hint of a smile on Makedde's face, and shoved him.  "You 
dirty lizard you!  Gods, I hate it when you do that!"
	Makedde laughed aloud.  "I can't help it!  You should have seen 
your face!"  He patted Metutu's shoulder.  "Come on.  I'll take you on 
my usual route."
	They set off at a leisurely pace, enjoying the cool breeze, and 
feeling the morning sun warm their back.  Makedde's home lay at the 
border between the jungle and savanna, and Metutu stared at the new 
world just waiting to be explored.  Few trees dotted the greenish gold 
sea of grass which was swept with waves as the winds played tag among 
the acacias.  Small islands of scrub brush thrust their stubby crowns 
defiantly towards the sky.  Here and there the thorny acacias had begun 
to put in an appearance, and in the distance, Metutu saw what looked 
like the trunk of a dead tree, pointing heavenward like an accusing 
finger!
	His pulse pounded in his ears, and he suddenly realized he had 
been holding his breath. Exhaling with a rush,  he laughed aloud in 
sheer delight.  "Gods, this is so beautiful!"
	Makedde smiled at him.  "Now you see why I live at the edge of the 
forest."
	"Father said it was because you were a hermit."
	The older mandrill burst out laughing.  "On the contrary.  I live 
here because I prefer EVERYONE'S company."
	"Huh?"
	"Come on, I'll show you around."  Makedde jumped lightly down to 
the bottom of a wadi and motioned to Metutu to follow.  Shrugging, the 
younger mandrill complied, following as his brother strolled slowly 
along the channel.
	"Metutu, if you limit your experiences, you limit your knowledge.  
Sometimes the wisest statement is a question.  Do you understand?"
	"Uh, I guess."
	Makedde smiled.  "Once there were three brothers.  One who knew, 
one who knew who knew, and one who knew nothing.  When the evil spirits 
came to the one who knew, the one who knew knew what to do.  The one who 
knew who knew what to do asked the one who knew and then he too knew 
what to do.  The one who knew nothing to do knew too late that he should 
have known who knew what he did not know."
	Metutu was busy counting on his fingers and whispering to himself.  
"Run that by me again?"
	Makedde laughed.  "Just remember this.  The path of wisdom begins 
with curiosity and ends with enlightenment."
	"Oh!"  Metutu smiled.
	Later the two paused under the shade of a thorny acacia to rest.  
Makedde glanced up at the sun, observing the orb's position in the sky.  
"My boy, it is highsun.  Why don't we sit down and eat lunch."
	"Whassa matter, you too old and tired to keep going?"  Metutu 
teased gently.  He tugged slightly at the beard jutting from his older 
brother's chin.  "Look at that.  Shot with gray already.  Tell us a 
story, Gramps!"
	Makedde chuckled lightly, tossing him a breadfruit with great 
dexterity.  "Young pup.  All right, eat your lunch and I will."
	Metutu grinned, forearms flexing as he tore the fruit in half and 
handed a piece back to his brother.  He bit deeply, enjoying the feeling 
of the juice running down his chin.  Wiping it away, he chewed slowly as 
Makedde began to speak.
	"A long time ago in the reign of the great king Ramalah-"
	"What kind of a name is that?"  Metutu laughed.  "Ramalah?  What 
was he, a gibbon?"
	Makedde frowned.  "Metutu, Ramalah was once the Lion King of the 
Pride Lands.  Over thirty generations ago, he and his ilk were absolute 
rulers of this land."
	Metutu stopped laughing immediately.  "The Lion King?  Really?"
	"Yes.  Their land is much smaller now, and lies far to the west."
	Metutu gazed across the land.  "Wow.  Do you think we'll see a 
lion?"
	"Doubtful.  They rarely venture this far out."  Makedde cleared 
his throat.  "Anyway, Ramalah's wife Chakula had given birth to twin 
sons, N'ga and Sufa.  Now the queen has many responsibilities, and so 
she must often leave her cubs in the care of another.  The queen's 
favorite baby-sitter was Alba, her younger sister."
	Makedde scratched his leg idly and smoothed the fur back into 
place.
	"One day, while N'ga and Sufa were being watched by Alba, they 
were caught in a cave-in."
	"What's that?"
	"You remember what Busara's home looks like?  The Chief Scribe?"
	"Yes."
	"Well, imagine what would happen if the roof fell in.  That's a 
cave-in."
	Metutu looked horrified.  "Gods, that's awful!  What happened?"
	"Well, the three lions were trapped in the cave.  One day passed, 
and then another.  N'ga and Sufa grew weak with hunger, for young cubs 
need milk, and Alba had none to give.  So she opened the veins in her 
foreleg and gave the two cubs her lifeblood, to sustain them until 
Chakula freed them several days later."
	"Oh, no!"  Metutu looked stricken.  "Did Alba die?"
	"Yes."
	"But why?  She didn't do anything wrong!"
	"She gave her life so that the cubs would live, brother.  And her 
sacrifice has never been forgotten, for the red flower of Alba, 'the 
blood of mercy,' is a shaman's most prized medicine."  Makedde 
stretched, then rose, picking up his staff.  "Time to get on."
	As Makedde walked back slowly, he wondered at the deep silence 
from his young brother.  "Maybe I pushed it too far too fast," he 
fretted.  "He may not be ready."
	"Makedde?"
	He turned to look at Metutu.
	"I was talking with Asumini the other day."
	"Which day?"  Makedde chuckled.  "You talk with her quite often, 
brother."
	Metutu socked him in the arm lightly.  "I'm serious, Makedde!"
	"OK.  What about?"
	"She told me...well...'Greatness is a matter of the heart, not an 
accident of birth.'"
	Makedde's heart sang as he fought to keep still.  "That's very 
true."
	"You think so?"  Metutu smiled, relieved.  "I think Alba was 
pretty great, don't you?"
	"Indeed."
	"I mean, I bet Mom would have done that for us."
	Makedde smiled.  "I know she would have.  Love is the source of 
all greatness."  Makedde resumed walking, Metutu alongside.  "There are 
countless others just like her.  Her sacrifice is an example.  Others 
may not give up as much as she, but their gifts are never ignored by 
Aiheu."
	Metutu looked at him wonderingly.  "I thought you sounded like 
Asumini.  You believe in Him too?"
	The mandrill smiled openly.  "I do.  His teachings are not those 
of trickery and deceit, but love and trust.  These are the things I 
would share with you, brother.  And they are all I ask in return."  
	"Then I guess I believe in Aiheu."
	Makedde hugged his brother roughly, then patted his shoulder.  "I 
see promise in you, my brother.  Great things lie within your grasp."
	Makedde finally stopped.  "Ah!  Here we are."
	Metutu looked ahead, seeing the dead tree they had sighted this 
morning.  "So what?  It's a tree."
	"Nope.  Look closer."  The two moved up next to the tall spire.  
Metutu ran a hand along it and was surprised to see small grains flake 
away at his touch.  "Why, it's made of dirt!"  He looked around, warily.
"What made this?"
	"Look down."
	Metutu glanced down and saw tiny forms scurrying madly at their 
feet.  "Ugh!  Termites!  They made this?"
	"Indeed."  Makedde knelt and scooped a handful up, watching them 
crawl frantically about on his palm.  "Tiniest of creatures, yet they 
build homes as hard as rock, and as tall as trees.  They are the epitome 
of hard work, Metutu.  But too much is just as bad as not enough."
	"Hmm?"
	Makedde knelt and gently brushed the insects off.  "They toil all 
their lives, yet take no time to enjoy the beauty of the earth, and the 
gifts that Aiheu has blessed us with.  To find happiness, Metutu, you 
must find some kind of middle ground."  Makedde turned away and resumed 
walking back the way they had came.
	They had only walked a short distance when Makedde paused.  "No, 
this will not do."
	"What's wrong?"
	"My brother, you follow me like the jackal pups follow their 
mother.  Roam if you like.  Stop and smell a flower.  Look at a cloud.  
Enjoy yourself, for goodness sake!"  Makedde laughed and ruffled 
Metutu's head roughly.
	"Cut it out!"  Metutu laughed, poking Makedde in the ribs.  The 
older mandrill yelped, falling back as Metutu tackled him playfully.  
The two rolled about in the grass, laughing and giggling wildly.  Tiring 
finally, they lay on their backs quietly, staring upward at the 
brilliant azure sky.
	"Look!  There goes a bird!"
	"What?"  Metutu looked curiously.  "I don't see any birds, except 
for a vulture in that tree over there."
	"He probably thinks we're his dinner," Makedde chuckled.  "I'm 
happy to disappoint him.  No, I'm talking about that cloud up there.  
See it?  It looks like a little bird."
	Metutu stared hard.  "I don't get it."
	"See the end?  That's the beak.  And that part on top is a 
wing..."
	"Oh!" Metutu exclaimed.  "I see it!  I see it!"  He laughed 
delightedly.  "It does look like a bird!"  He peered about avidly, his 
eyes roving from spot to spot.  "Look!  There's a tortoise!"
	"Where?  Oh!  Yes, you're right!"
	"And look at that one!"  Metutu leaped up and ran a short 
distance.  "There's a hare!  And look at that one!"  He giggled.  "That 
one looks like old Umbogi from the council...see his potbelly?"
	"Oh gods, don't let him hear you say that!"  Makedde laughed.  "I 
see it, though, you're right!"
	Metutu pointed.  "Look!  That looks like a lion!"
	Makedde peered curiously.  "Where?"  He looked about, but couldn't 
see even the faintest wisp of cloud where Metutu was pointing.
	"Right there!"  Metutu laughed.  "It looks more like a lioness, 
actually.  But she's all white instead of golden."  He stared up 
dreamily, then giggled.  "She looks like she's smiling at me."
	Makedde looked again at the empty sky where Metutu was peering, 
then down to his brother.  His skin tingled as he looked at Metutu with 
renewed interest.  "Yes, I suppose she is, brother."


CHAPTER 9:  THE JOYS OF WORK

	The more Metutu found out about work, he realized that good 
feelings were a small part of every job.  That more often than not there 
were other feelings--weariness, perspiration, and sometimes boredom.  As 
he began helping his brother Makedde, he expected to feel as good as he 
did giving his dinner to Wajoli.  But after the initial burst of pride, 
he took a full dose of reality.  Metutu was not yet skilled, and so he 
was most useful doing hard labor, freeing up Makedde for his thriving 
medical practice.
	Campa root was a valuable resource in shamanic medicine.  It was 
also easy to recognize and almost indestructible.  This made gathering 
Campa a great way to break in a new apprentice.
	Metutu kept repeating to himself one of the verses that helped him 
remember what he was after:

			Three leaves out, and two leaves back,
			Leaves of green, and berries black;
			Good for your stomach, great for your skin,
			Keeps your hair from getting thin!
	
	After nearly three hours of pulling Campa, he had a very large 
stack of leaves to discard, and a precious small hoard of root tips.  It 
was almost more than he could bear to see how little of a gourd he could 
fill with the prize.
	Disgusted with himself and his job, Metutu headed back for lunch, 
half decided to quit.  He walked into the baobab.  "Brother, we need to 
talk."
	"Just a moment."  Makedde was busy with a small mandrill child.  
"Open your mouth, son."
	The boy gaped open.  "Ah, I see.  Is it sore around here?"
	"Ahh haa," the boy said.
	"But it isn't making you cough?"
	"Ahh ahh."
	"Fine.  You can close now."  Makedde smiled.  "It's a sore throat, 
and not serious at that.  We'll give you something for the discomfort, 
and maybe even a pinch of Tiko Root.  You like that?"
	"Yes sir!"
	Makedde rubbed the boy's head affectionately.  "Jamala, you make 
sure he takes three of these crushed in a cup of water every morning, 
highsun and evening for pain.  Two days worth should do it, but if it's 
still bothering him, you know where to find me."  He got a sprig of Tiko 
root and handed it to the boy.  "Aren't you growing like a weed!  Soon, 
I'll have to look up to see you eye to eye!"
	The boy laughed and chomped down on his Tiko root.
	When they were gone, Makedde looked to Metutu.  "I don't know how 
I'd get it all in without your help!"  He took the gourd.  "That's a lot 
of Campa root.   Are you sure that was empty when you got it?"
	"Yes, brother."
	"Impressive.  Now what did you want to talk with me about?"
	Metutu smiled shyly.  "I forgot.  I guess it wasn't that 
important."



CHAPTER 10:  THE PATIENCE OF AIHEU

	The sweat rolled down Metutu's face, dripping off the end of his 
nose and making it itch.  But he didn't dare raise a hand to wipe it 
away.  He glared fiercely at the Euphorbia he was trying to uproot.  
Makedde had cautioned that he needed the plant undamaged; the virtue of 
the roots lay right at the skin.  Scraped, they were almost worthless.
	Metutu was locked in mortal combat with the plant.  He bared his 
teeth and grinned at the root.  "Sooner or later, you're going to be 
conquered, and I'm going to laugh at you!  You hear me??"
	Of course the plant did not hear him.  Metutu felt a little 
foolish arguing with it.  He looked at the sensitive root endings 
exposed to the air and decided against using the sharp wooden digging 
stick Makedde had given him.  Sighing, he set it aside and used much of 
his precious water ration to moisten the soil.  Then he worked with his 
fingers to carefully scoop away the mud.  He hissed in irritation as he 
felt his fingertips scrape against the small rocks embedded in the mud, 
but continued to uncover more and more of the plant until it finally 
gave up.  Metutu had managed to outthink a plant, and he grinned in 
triumph.  
	"Stupid old weed!  Did you really think you could win against my 
superior intelligence??"
	Metutu bore the hard-won prize back toward his home in the baobab.  
The sun was hot, and he had no water left to quench his thirst.  Worse, 
the mud that had caked on his hands was hardening into a cement that 
served to irritate the scratches in his skin.  "Next time I'll think to 
bring more water."
	There was a patient with Makedde.  Uwezo looked miserable, and he 
was.  Metutu was hoping to find Makedde alone to share his moment of 
triumph.  And though he was loathe to interrupt a patient, he felt he 
should quickly show his brother him the bulb.  "Hey, look what I got!"
	Makedde looked up a little upset.  "That's nice.  Right now I'm in 
the middle of....oh, look at your hands!"
	"Oh, I scraped them."
	"Why not go pound your head on a rock while you're at it!"  
Makedde sighed at the reckless youth.  "God only gives you one pair of 
hands.  There will always be more bulbs."
	Uwezo laughed.  "You know, that reminds me of...."  He winced.  
"My sore throat.  Sorry."
	Makedde turned back to examining Uwezo.  "Metutu, the Bedango 
extract is right in the...."  He looked around to point, but Metutu was 
already rubbing down his hands.  "Hfff, well pardon me!"
	Metutu dried his hands and stood next to Makedde to watch Uwezo 
describe his symptoms in dreary detail.
	"I couldn't sleep last night," Uwezo droned on.  "Today, however, 
all I wanted to do is sleep.  Then when I lay my head down my pulse 
pounds in my ears.  Tic tic tic all the time.  I have a headache and my 
throat is sore.  And there's this dryness in my nose."
	"Not to mention the itching under your arms," Metutu said.
	"Yeah, that too."  He looked at the young mandrill.  "I didn't 
know you were a shaman too?"
	"Not yet," Makedde said.  "So great Metutu, what is your 
diagnosis?"
	"Brother, that sounds like Dol Sani."
	Makedde burst out laughing, along with his patient. "Dol Sani is a 
CHILDHOOD disease.  And, well, LOOK at him!"
	The rather robust mandrill was a bodyguard for Kinara.  He smiled 
indulgently.  "Oh PWEEZE don't tell my mommy!"
	"So you've never had it before?" Metutu asked.
	"Well no."
	"That's right.  You were an only child and you grew up on the edge 
of the village."  Metutu looked at Makedde with a wry grin.
	"But he MUST have had it at SOME time," said Makedde, 
unbelievingly.  "Everyone gets that growing up.  I mean, it's almost 
tribal law."  He laughed.
	Metutu shrugged.  "I guess so.  Still, the itchy arm pits.  I was 
asked for my opinion...."
	Metutu climbed down to collect more herbs.  He resolved to make no 
more diagnoses that day.
	"That's a fine young brother you've got there, Makedde."
	"Indeed, Uwezo.  He's come a long way."  Makedde chuckled as he 
bent over him again, his sensitive hands exploring under the other 
mandrill's jaw, testing the glands there.  "I remember when you couldn't 
GET him to use his own hands to pick up something.  Now I can't get him 
to keep his hands off..." he broke off, frowning.  Makedde sat back and 
looked at him.  "Did you say your joints ache?"
	Uwezo looked at him, confused.  "Yes, a little.  I'm not old 
enough for the Mifupa, am I?"
	"No, that's different."  Makedde stroked his chin and grinned 
wryly.  "By the gods, I think he's right!  You DO have Dol Sani!"
	Uwezo looked worried.  "How?  I will be a laughingstock!"
	Makedde patted him.  "Nonsense.  Nothing will be said by me or 
Metutu.  Just tell them you have-hmmm--acute pediatric aesthenia."
	"I'm glad you think my Pediatric whatever is cute, but let's just 
say that I have the flu and leave it at that."
	"Fine."  He gave Uwezo an elixir of Protothecus milleri.  "Now 
drink this."
	"Ugh!  It smells nasty."
	"Dwink it or I WILL tell your mommy!"
	Uwezo did not appreciate the joke, but he did appreciate 
blackmail.  He downed the awful remedy that left him reeking of sulfur.  
"Oh gods!"  He took the water gourd offered by Makedde and downed it all 
in a couple of gulps.  "Ugh!  Nasty stuff!"
	He turned to leave.  "You're welcome," Makedde said grimly.  As 
Uwezo walked away, Makedde watched him.  He muttered, "You DO have a 
cute pediatric aesthenia...."  Laughing, he thought about Metutu's 
emerging diagnostic skills.  "I have to tell him about it."
	Hearing a noise below, he looked down.  "Metutu, I want to tell 
you something."
	But it was Kinara, his father.  He looked upset.
	"You could live a little closer to the ground, like civilized 
folk."  Kinara was short of breath.
	Makedde sighed.  "What can I do for you, Father?  Those backaches 
again?"
	Kinara said, "Haven't you done enough already?"
	"What do you mean by that?"
	"I know the love Metutu has for you, and I would not begrudge him 
anything.  But I will NOT stand by and watch you corrupt him."
	Makedde opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off. "Oh, no!  
Don't you try to deny it."
	"Why, because I give him a little work to do?  It's good for the 
soul."
	"PAH!"  Kinara growled.  "A little hard work is fine.  But you 
have filled his head with dry grass!  Lion stories!  Meat-eater 
religions where a lioness nurses cubs with her own blood!  My gods, did 
you think I would want my son to hear that perversion!"
	"It is NOT perversion!  I try to respect all people's beliefs when 
they are sincere about them, but a god that lies and steals is no god of 
mine.  I have dared to hunt out the God whose love is unconditional and 
whose heart is pure."
	Kinara thumped his staff down.  "At least you don't deny it.  You 
were always too honest to lead our people effectively, so I didn't mind 
when you wanted to be a shaman healer.  But now you heal the body while 
corrupting the spirit.  Who says that Pishtim--may he increase--lies or 
steals??  Since he is the source of all things and all truth, he can 
change the truth as he sees fit, and he can take back what he has given!  
See that you don't offend him with your impious ranting!
	"Me impious?  Father, don't you know your own son better than 
that?  Hasn't love given you eyes to see or ears to listen?"
	"Don't think I don't still love you, for I have worked to keep 
your secret from the council.  I've stuck my neck out for you, and I'll 
continue to do so, but I will NOT have you taking Metutu from the true 
path!  I'm sorry, Makedde, but you are no longer his teacher.  I'm 
sending him to live with Busara.  He will teach my son the old ways that 
have sustained us for generations.  He will be made worthy to take my 
place when I die.  Gods, how I wish I'd done better with you!  I wonder 
if I could have done or said anything different.  You send me to my 
grave with many regrets and a broken heart!"
	"Father!"
	"I warn you not to try and interfere.  Don't presume too much on 
our ties of blood, for I am still your leader and you are still my 
subject, understand?"
	"Completely, SIR."
	"Don't sass me boy!  You're not too old to get a few licks from 
your old dad, and I'm  not so sure they wouldn't do you some good!"
	He whirled and left, descending the tree so abruptly that he 
almost fell to the ground.
	The shaman sat on his haunches and sighed.  He gazed at the 
painted drawings on the side of the tree's bole, where a stylistic 
portrait of Metutu was emblazoned on the bark.  "The gods will have 
their way.  Father, you have pulled him from the creek only to plunge 
him in the river."  He looked through the swaying branches of his home 
to the bright azure sky above.  It was a bittersweet victory, just 
another thorn between himself and his father when once they had been so 
close.  "Touch his spirit, Aiheu.  Bless my father in his darkness, and 
shine the light of wisdom into his heart."



CHAPTER 11:  HOMEWORK

	Metutu eyed the cliff wall warily.  The caves were only a few 
minutes walk from the lush aerial homes of the rest of the troop, but to 
the superstitious mandrills, they were a completely separate world.  Few 
dared to venture there.  Busara's wisdom was legendary, but so were his 
eccentricities.  Metutu remembered hearing stories that he sacrificed 
goats on nights of the full moon in exchange for powers from the evil 
Makei.  But Kinara had always insisted that his Chief Scribe was kind 
and patient.  "You would love him.  I could kick myself for not 
introducing you long ago."
	Metutu had seen Busara from a distance once or twice, but had 
never been introduced.  That was a real shame, for he was rather fond of 
Asumini, and he was curious about her parents.  He was about to explore 
the great mystery, and he was more than a little nervous.
	Metutu mused over this as he observed the coming and going of the 
birds high overhead.  They wheeled and chirped, their colorful plumage 
flashing in the sun as they went about the daily business of gathering 
food and hauling it to their nests at the top of the cliffs.  Some of 
them were weaver birds, constructing elaborate nests that hung like 
baskets made out of carefully woven grass.
	"Enjoying the view?"
	He gasped and spun, whirling to see Asumini standing behind him, a 
look of amusement on her face.  "What do you want, Metutu?  I can't talk 
long; father is expecting a new student soon, and I have to go meet 
him."
	Metutu grinned.  "You just did.  I'm going to be a scribe!"
	Her eyes widened disbelievingly.  "You?"  She laughed.  "Oh, 
that's good, Metutu!  You can tell them how to escape leopards.  I'm 
sure you'll have the situation under control!"  She added, "I was being 
perfectly serious.  He should be here any moment."
	"Asumini, that is no way to treat a guest, is it?"  The old voice 
was gentle, with only a hint of reproof.  They both turned to see Busara 
leaning heavily on his staff.  His wizened features bore the scars and 
furrows of age, but his eyes were bright with intelligence, crowned with 
wonderfully expressive eyebrows.  His kindly smile was as warm as a good 
hug.  "Please show Metutu inside, and get him settled in.  We have much 
to discuss, and it is already high sun."
	Asumini looked at Metutu, unable to hide her surprise.
	It was the first time that Metutu had been in a cave.  He stepped 
back into the refreshingly cool recess.  Expecting things to be pitch 
black, he found to his delight an invention lit the passageway.  "You 
like the lamps?  They burn rendered fat.  My Asumini scavenges carcasses 
to make sure I never run low.  You have to get there quickly you know, 
before the hyenas snatch up everything."
	Now it was Metutu's turn to be surprised.  He looked at Asumini 
with new respect.
	The twinkling lights were like stars in the night, but much 
brighter.  As they got further into the cave, there was what Busara 
called his "tree trunk."  It was a shaft of stone that reached from the 
floor to the ceiling, and Metutu fingered it with wonder, for it had not 
been carved but formed of its own accord.  There Busara stopped him.  
"Tell me, young buck, do you know where Mano is?"
	He says quietly, "I have no idea.  You'll have to ask Minshasa."  
That was the pass phrase by which Aiheusists in hiding recognize each 
other.
	Busara took the boy by the arm.  With almost pleading in his 
voice, he said, "I know you are the son of the chief, but I also know 
why he sent you here.  Now I ask you in all sincerity to tell me you are 
not here to spy on me.  That before the gods all you seek is the truth 
for your soul's sake."
	"That is all I seek," Metutu said.  "My father teaches me that the 
gods argue among themselves, that they have been known to cheat and even 
steal.  My brother tells me that the creator is perfect and holy, and 
that he loves us all.  I want so bad to believe he is right.  I watched 
the birds just now.  I cannot believe that the beauty I see, and the 
good things I feel when I see it came from petty, thieving, lazy gods 
that must be bribed to bring the rain and heal the sick.  If I were God, 
I'd do those things to make people happy."
	"Let me tell you why I believe.  Son, you are much closer than you 
think to the source of faith.  Aiheu is not a secret hidden under a 
rock.  The work of his hand is everywhere, filling the world with beauty 
and wonder.  Open your heart and take it in.  The hardest task would be 
NOT to believe."
	In the golden flickering light of the lamps, Busara's kindly face 
looked almost godlike.  "Look, son.  See the paintings?"
	Metutu looked at the walls.  They were covered by paintings much 
like the ones on Makedde's baobab, but done with such skill and artistry 
that it took Metutu's breath away.
	"I have to keep the lights out in this place when Kinara comes 
calling.  I wish they could be visible to the public, where the words of 
comfort they represent could become bind to their hearts and settle in 
their minds."
	Metutu was humbled.  "I'm sorry I called you an evil sorcerer.  
You know, we kids grew up telling stories about sacrifices of goats by 
the light of the full moon."
	"Once I was brought a goat carcass.  I had to cut it up for some 
sick lion cubs.  It might have been a night of the full moon--I don't 
know.  All I know is that I couldn't let them starve to death."  Busara 
shook his head.  "And to think that I love children so much.  Perhaps 
you will put in a good word when gossips tell their tales?"
	"I'll try."
	Metutu looked up and down the wall.  He recognized many of the 
paintings from his brother's work, but one thing was missing.  "Where is 
your story?  I bet it's interesting."
	Busara smiled.  "I like to think so.  Let me see your hands."  He 
took a look at Metutu's palms by the lantern light.  "They are young and 
fresh, not used to hard work."  His own were callused.  "Hard work is 
part of my story."  He tugged at his gray beard.  "Worry about my 
daughter's future.  Her first case of Dol Sani and her near death from 
pneumonia."  He drew his finger down the deep lines etched in his 
cheeks.  "Long hours of study, tending the sick, teaching lore, crying 
tears and smiling smiles."  He drew his finger across the deep wrinkles 
on his forehead.  "Late nights with sick lion cubs and a couple of 
leopards.  Oh yes, my story is plainly written.  The youth has been 
pulled from my outside, but inside I still feel like the young buck that 
earned these."
	He showed Metutu the back of his hand with five parallel scars.  
"To you they are ugly scars.  To me they are beautiful.  You see, my 
lioness sister Asumini was once warm and strong like you and I."  He 
took from around his neck a grass cord from which hung an ivory fang.  
"Once she could bear me on her back without thinking about it.  Now I 
wear what's left of her next to my heart."  His eyes began to grow 
misty.  "If you learn anything from me, learn this.  Love well and for 
always.  For everything else a shaman does is but leaves and branches."  
He patted the column of stone.  "Love is the trunk and the root of all 
good things."
	Busara sat on a prepared cushion of leaves.  He motioned for 
Metutu to do likewise.  "I'm going to tell you a love story.  One that 
is strange, for it is about a young mandrill shaman and a lioness.  
Listen well to my words, for I can make you look, but I can't make you 
see."
	"Is she the one I heard rumors about?"
	"The rumors pale next to the truth."  He fondled the relic and 
kissed it.  "Once I was in search of worldly treasures.  And instead I 
discovered God.  Only I did not recognize the significance of the 
moment, for the truth came in the form of a wounded lioness.
	"At great risk I tended her wound and saved her life.  Her name 
was Asumini.  It means `jasmine,' and may I say that the flower is more 
beautiful because it bears her name?"  He put the tooth back around his 
neck.  "She received comfort to the body, but returned to give me 
comfort to the spirit.  Everything that came before I count as loss.  
Everything that has happened since I treasure.  Through her eyes, I have 
seen face to face what others only saw dimly reflected.  Because of her, 
I have seen the face of Aiheu and slept at the feet of Minshasa and 
Mano.  And I will sit with them when I die, among the great kings of the 
past."
	"Who are the great kings?"
	"Those whose hearts are warm with the joy of service.  It is good 
to receive eternal life.  It is far greater to give eternal love.  In 
the beginning all animals were brother spirits.  In the end they will 
all be brothers once more.  Some of those spirits will be weak cubs 
crying out for milk.  Others will answer their cry and say, `Come you 
who hunger for my milk.  No one shall I turn away.'"  He drew close to 
Metutu and took his hand.  "Aiheu calls to you.  He says, `Metutu, feed 
my cubs.  Feed my cubs.'"
	Metutu slowly knelt and bowed his head.  Busara rested his hand on 
his head and blessed him.
	"Aiheu, come into my heart!  I will feed your cubs!  I swear!"
	Busara knelt beside him and put his arms around Metutu.  "Bless 
you, son!  I have lived to see the promise fulfilled in you.  The light 
will not go out!"
	Kinara loved his son, but there was a depth and genuine warmth to 
Busara that endeared him to Metutu at once.  "When I am Chief, everyone 
will see your paintings, and there will be no punishment for worshipping 
as your heart dictates."
	Tears came to Busara's eyes.  "I have lived to see this moment!  
Now I can die happy!"  


CHAPTER 12:  BREAKING BREAD

	Busara told him, "Let's celebrate.  How about something to eat?"
	"Fine!"
	"Then come on.  We'll prepare it together."  A second later Busara 
added, "I forget you have servants.  Do you know how to prepare a meal?"
	"What I don't know, you can show me."
	"That attitude will take you places, my son!"  Busara put his arm 
around the smiling Metutu and led him into the pantry.
	The year-round cool of the deeper cave passages made it possible 
to store greens in fresh-picked condition for quite a while.  Busara 
found all the fruit and vegetables he needed in the flickering light of 
his lamp.
	"I can't believe this!"  Metutu saw herbs and fruits that he knew 
were out of season.  "This is incredible!  You're a genius!"
	Busara laughed.  "I make a mean fruit salad too."  He took a mango 
and took a sharp dagger from the wall that he used to slice it into this 
sections, then dice them.
	"What is that??"
	"It's a man thing.  There was a big male that drowned in the river 
a few years back.  Very sad, but he was wearing this.  I figured he 
didn't need it anymore."
	"A man thing?  But those are cursed!"
	"No.  The only time it's cursed is when it rests in an evil hand.  
Funny thing about those big hairless creatures: for all their 
collections of things, they are mortal and full of fears just like us.  
Aiheu made us all for one reason or another.  I haven't figured out why 
he made their kind yet, but it's enough just knowing he had a reason to 
show a little tolerance and understanding."  He smiled.  "They do make 
some great stuff, though."
	"If you say so," Metutu murmured, looking closely at the dagger 
but not touching it.
	Later as they ate, Metutu glanced at the tooth of Asumini around 
Busara's neck.
	"Tell me more about the lioness."
	"She is probably listening right now," Busara said.  "She reveals 
herself to whom she will as the spirit moves her."
	"No, I mean as a person."
	Busara smiled.  "She is full of love.  Love that echoed through 
her cubs and now her grandson Ahadi who rules at Pride Rock.  Our 
spirits are one, bound together eternally with cords that cannot be 
broken.  She brought my family and I into the light.  My debt to her 
could never be repaid."  He leaned over and kissed Kima.  "My wife is 
very understanding about this--she shares me with Asumini.  I think that 
if I'd spent that much time and affection on another mandrill...."
	"I would have killed you," Kima said, kissing his cheek.  She 
turned to address Metutu directly.  "Sometimes he sleeps next to her.  
At least she waits for him to fall asleep before she sneaks away.  But 
when she was alive, that was even worse.  She would sprawl out in the 
floor with Busara snuggled up against her.  The two of them would snore 
like a thunderstorm.  Sometimes he'd rub her stomach and her leg would 
kick."
	"You talk about her like a nuisance," Busara said with a slight 
scowl.  "I know you used to spend hours grooming her, picking ticks, and 
calling her `Fuzzy love.'  And those cubs: I thought you were going to 
fight her for custody!"
	"Well sometimes she was a nuisance.  But only sometimes."  Kima 
smiled reflectively.  "She was always very sweet.  Sometimes out of the 
blue she would say something absolutely wonderful that would take your 
breath away.  Then you wanted to hug her and never let go.  She was so 
wise about so many things."
	"They must be great philosophers.  And I thought all they did was 
hunt."
	Busara laughed.  "Oh my boy, what constitutes great philosophy?  I 
remember the way she used to say it:

	"You have lots of time to sit about in that odd crossed-legged 
stance to do thinking.  That kind of time must be wonderful--I spend 
much time hunting and tending to my family.  But even in my busy life, I 
have moments when I feel that small voice inside me speaking truths.  I 
know what works for me.  
	"In one way, there are no mothers who aren't philosophers.  We use 
what works for us, and if you are interested, I would tell you some 
truths.  For one thing, we see the beauty that surrounds us.  The father 
sky, the mother earth, the dew on the grass.  We know that God is 
beautiful, though we have not seen him.  You can tell a mother's looks 
by her cubs.  Even so, we see the beauty of God in everything he made.'"

	"My gods!" Metutu gasped.
	Busara sighed.  "Such pure, beautiful and childlike faith!  Rather 
than dealing in vague concepts, she brought comfort for the 
spirit...words that help us face the pleasures and pains of life.  Well 
my son, she helped me face them.  She lived to be quite old for her 
kind, then she came here to die, and she has never left.  Sometimes in 
the night you can see her keeping watch over me, my blessed Nisei whose 
prayers are always before the feet of Aiheu."  His eyes grew misty 
again.  "To think she leaves the blessed presence of Aiheu to tarry in 
the shadows with me.  She healed my spirit, and all I did was heal her 
body!"
	Suddenly Busara looked around.  "No, I didn't exaggerate!"  He 
listened for a moment, but all Metutu could hear was silence.  "It's 
true!"
	"Was that her?"
	"Yes.  She's among us.  Apparently she has not revealed herself to 
you yet."
	"Well ask her to.  If you ask her to, she will."
	"I believe it.  But I will not ask her to.  When she is ready, she 
will show herself."
	Busara's daughter got up and reached down to touch something, 
though Metutu could not see a thing.  "Is that her?" Metutu asked.
	"Yes."
	Metutu reached out in that direction.  Asumini scowled.  "You 
drove her off!  Give her time--she'll come to you when she's ready."
	"Will I know it?"
	"She could chew you up and spit you out.  I dare say you'll know 
it."
	"Is she temperamental?  I mean, is she good to you?"
	Asumini said, "She was a second mother to me.  She was very strict 
but very kind, like most lioness mothers.  I could never get away with 
anything because she would tattle on me to Dad."
	"I bet you hated that."
	"No.  She always took good care of me.  I only wish I could have 
known her well before she died.  When I was very young, I remember her 
grooming me.  That seems so long ago.  At least I could hide from her 
then."  She looks to one side.  "Cut it out, Auntie!  You know I'm only 
teasing."  Suddenly Asumini laughs.  "In your dreams!"
        Hearing only one side of this, Metutu felt odd.  Still when 
Metutu sat his stick down for a while, it ended up moving mysteriously.  
"She is shy with newcomers, but she wants you to respect her existence.  
That's her subtle way of saying `hello.'"
	"Oh."  He looked around uncertainly.  "Hello to you too."  
Something dawned on him at last, and he burst out laughing.
	Asumini looks at him strangely.  "You think this is funny?"
	"No, I think you are!  Your father said Asumini scavenged 
carcasses for fat before the hyenas stripped them clean!  I thought he 
meant you!"
	"Are you so sure he didn't?"
	Metutu stared at her.  "You are kidding--aren't you?"
	She grinned.  "Well, I might be."


CHAPTER 13:  THE FACTS

	Metutu was excited about his new religion, but the very ones he 
wanted to discuss it with were the ones he could not tell.  Wandani had 
never discussed religion with him.  Telling his father was out of the 
question, and he was afraid of horrifying and saddening his mother.  So 
without a proper forum, his new ideas surfaced as moods.
	He had locked away inside him the secret plan to go with Busara to 
the open savanna, wade through the waves of grass, and there see a real 
lion.  He wanted to live the stories about the night sky, standing on 
Pride Rock and seeing for the very first time the sparkling canopy of 
stars.  He wanted to hear a real roar.
	He passed his mother.  "Hi, Mom!"  He gave her a big kiss.  "Isn't 
it great to be alive!"
	"Yes, it sure is."  She kissed him back.  "Did you learn anything 
interesting today?"
	"It was so neat!"
	Without further elaboration, Metutu climbed into his bunk and 
looked at the trunk of the tree.  A knot that had always reminded him of 
a rabbit's head stared back with unseeing eyes.
	"Well, Mr. Bun," he thought, "I'll ask him the next time I see 
him!  Yes, we'll think of SOME excuse for Mom and Dad.  We'll call it an 
extended field trip or something."
	It would not be easy.  But if Aiheu answered prayers, there would 
come an excuse to cement their ties and strengthen their new bond!  
"Aiheu, light of lights, creator of the universe, I'm the new one that 
met you this evening.  Find a way through love!"
	"I have some fresh fruit," Neema called up to him.
	"Not right now, Mom.  I'm not really hungry."
	"Did you eat at Busara's?"
	"Just a little."
	"You're a growing boy.  You need your nourishment."
	"OK, just a little."
	She climbed up with a couple of melon slices.  "Now you finish 
these, you hear?"  She looked him in the face and smiled.  "How are you 
feeling, fuzzy love?"
	"Fine, Mom," he said affectionately but distracted.
	"Want to talk about it?"
	He laughed.  "What part of `fine' do you want me to explain?"
	"You know what I mean!"
	As honestly as he dared, Metutu said, "Busara is a great teacher.  
As much as I love Dad, it's great to hear someone that can talk all day 
without mentioning Old Maloki ONCE."
	She looked about, then laughed softly.  "You really shouldn't say 
that," she intoned in a whisper.  "But I almost envy you."
	"Besides that, I like Busara and Kima."
	"And you already like Asumini?"
	"Of course.  A lot."
	Neema smiled and nodded.  "She is very likable.  Just the sort of 
doe that would make a fine wife and mother someday.  I think a curious 
sort like you would like an intellectual like her."
	"Well, uh, I guess so."
	"Just like your father likes politics and he got a politician for 
a wife.  My vote doesn't carry far beyond this tree, but he spends half 
his life here."
	"You know how to call the shots, Huh Mom?"
	"Don't underestimate me.  But I would never misuse that power.  If 
anything, I try to help your father and keep both of his feet on the 
ground when he starts going wild.  Choosing someone who really loves you 
and that you can trust is the key to happiness.  If I can venture an 
opinion...."
	"Sure, Mom."
	"I think the gods made you and Asumini as a matched set.  If I saw 
the two of you married, I could die without worries or regrets.  Makedde 
is married to his work, and Makoko will get by somehow.  He's durable.  
But Metutu, you have a loving heart.  Without love, you would die like a 
sprout in the dry season."
	"I can get along."
	"I don't mean it as an insult.  I think your heart is made to love 
and be loved.  It's God's gift to you.  If you turn your back on that 
gift, there will be consequences.  Whatever you do, and wherever you go, 
look for love to follow you.  When I am gone, and your father is off on 
some mad scheme, I know that Asumini will be holding your hand.  And 
when I look down and see that, it will make me so happy."
	Metutu kissed her.  "That's very nice, Mom.  But stick around for 
a while.  I don't want you leaving any time soon."
	"No sooner than I have to," she said, squeezing his hand.  "I'm 
still rather young.  Maybe I want to play with my grandchildren first."
	Neema climbed down and gathered up the rest of the fruit.  
"Kinara, dear?  Have you eaten?"
	He came around the tree.  "Oh, that looks good!  Is Metutu back 
yet?"
	She kept her voice down and motioned Kinara away to the privacy of 
the deep forest.
	"When you look that way, Neema, you're up to something."
	"Our little boy had come back a buck, and he needs someone to have 
the talk with him."
	"What do you mean?"
	"Asumini.  That's what I mean.  Just look at him.  He's so jumpy 
if you touched him he'd jump sky high.  Metutu needs to hear the facts 
from someone who knows, not from his young friends.  When I was his age, 
I thought I'd get pregnant if a boy kissed me."
	"Fine.  I'll have a talk with him sometime."
	"Sometime today."
	He returned to the tree but did not see Metutu around.  Acting on 
a hunch, he went to the creek where he found Metutu skipping rocks.  
"Why, he's still just a child!"  Kinara sighed.
	"Metutu?"
	"Yes sir?"
	"No calling me sir.  Today I'm not just your father, I'm also your 
friend.  And we need to talk heart to heart, OK?"
	He sat on bank by his son, their feet in the smooth, cool water.  
Putting his arm around Metutu's shoulder, he started out rather 
obliquely.  "Now then, you remember when your grandmother died?  We all 
grow old and die someday."
	"No fooling?"  Metutu covered his face.  "Even me?"
	"Now don't you poke fun.  Let's understand each other: I know all 
about Asumini."
	Of course Metutu thought Busara was keeping his lioness a secret.
	"You may find your friendship with her a little different than the 
ones you have with your other friends.  You may feel strange urges you 
don't understand.  You want to touch her, to kiss her, to be with her."
	Metutu is a bit taken aback.  "Well, I think she's really neat.  
I'd like to see more of her--to be able to touch her and feel her soft 
fur.  To look in her hazel eyes.  Sometimes I even wish I could lay my 
head on her side and go to sleep just listening to her breath."
	Kinara squeezed his shoulder.  "I know the feeling, son.  But you 
need to know where this is leading.  Encourage her and she'll be all 
over you like green on leaves.  Your mother and I felt that way, but we 
decided to respect each other and wait till after we were married before 
our level of intimacy spread that far.  Things can quickly get out of 
control."
	Metutu was aghast.  He suddenly realized where this was going.  
"Oh, you mean Busara's daughter!"  Starts to laugh.
	"Is there ANOTHER Asumini?"
	"What brought this on, dad?"
	"We've seen all the classic signs.  Restlessness, poor appetite, 
mood swings.  If that's not it, what is?"
	Metutu laughed.  "Let's see.  I started training with Busara.  
He's really neat.  I got to go in a cave for the first time.  I'm 
excited about life.  I'm going to be on the council someday.  No denying 
that Asumini is pretty, but really Dad...."
	"But what about this business with the touchy-feely stuff.  Like 
laying your head on her side and going to sleep?"
	"I was talking about a lioness!"  Metutu laughed uncontrollably.  
"Don't worry, dad--we respect each other's feelings and we'll wait till 
after we're married before our level of intimacy spreads that far.  We 
don't want things to get out of control."
	The little joke was lost on Kinara.  "A lioness??  She'll eat you 
in one bite!"
	"No, Dad.  She's dead."
	"Oh, that changes everything."  He began to nervously scratch his 
head.  "You want to cuddle with a DEAD lioness!"
	"Not a dead body!  A guardian spirit!  Her name's Asumini too."
	Kinara took in a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let it out 
slowly from the mouth.  "Thank the gods."  He looked at Metutu and 
smiled.  Metutu smiled back.  "I love you, son.  We can talk when we 
want to.  Just take me aside and say `Dad, I'd like to talk.'"
	"That's nice, Dad.  I love you too."  Metutu looked up with a wry 
grin.  "Did mother put you up to this?"
	"She sure did.  That obvious, huh?"
	"Well she was really acting kind of odd."
	"When I tell her, she's going to flip."  Kinara rubbed the top of 
Metutu's hair.  "I had a different name picked out for you.  Metutu was 
a mistake.  I was going to name you Mawata, after your grandfather.  
Let's be honest, son.  You may not have Makoko's looks, but the beauty 
from inside is so great that it doesn't matter.  Don't you dare tell 
anyone I said this, but of my three sons, I have always loved you the 
most."
	"Oh dad!"
	"Let me finish.  You inspire love in people, and someday some 
female is going to latch on to you.  You need to know about these things 
so when Asumini, or whomever it is, throws you off balance you'll know 
what to do.  There's no need to rely on rumors, not as long as I'm 
around."
	Kinara talked with Metutu in the quiet of the forest about the 
renewal of life, and about love.  It was one of the few times Metutu had 
ever seen Kinara as gentle or as shy, and years later he would look back 
on that talk and smile.


CHAPTER 14:  ALL THAT GLITTERS IS NOT GOLD

	Metutu headed to Busara's cave, feeling a little upset and longing 
for some inner peace.
	Kima came out to greet him affectionately.  "Come in, my son!  
Look Busara, it's Metutu!"
	Busara came out and threw his arms around him like an old friend.  
Already Metutu felt his anger melting away like wax in the hot sun.  "I 
was just thinking about you, and here you are!  Have some fresh grapes 
with us and let's talk."
	"About what?"
	"I can sense that you were upset with someone.  Not us, I hope?"
	"Certainly not!"
	"Your father again?"
	Metutu took some grapes, blessed them, and began to eat them a 
couple at a time.  "I don't mean it wrong, but I really hate politics.  
I love my dad, but I can't stand what he does for a living."
	"Hfff!  Can it be that you have lost your faith in politics?"  
Busara offered him some cold water which Metutu gratefully accepted.  
"So what is it this time?  Old Maloki again?"
	"Isn't it always?"  Metutu scratched his head.  "I mean, why don't 
those two just try to get along?  I don't believe Maloki is half as evil 
as my father says he is."
	"Well you knew they were like that.  There's something else, isn't 
there?"
	"Yeah."  Metutu put his head in his hands and sulked.  "Dad tells 
Chidu one thing, then turns right around and tells Bugweto exactly the 
opposite.  So I asked him about it, and he told me that God is the 
source of all truth, and that when he wants something done, he can 
change the truth."  He looked pained.  "I let it drop, but any way you 
look at it, he just plain lied.  I remember my mom always telling me not 
to lie, but I can't remember my dad saying anything except that I should 
not lie to HIM.  I never know when to believe him anymore!"
	"I see."  Busara put his hand on Metutu's shoulder.  "This 
disturbs you.  But there is more to it than that.  Much more."
	Metutu felt he had said too much already.  He quietly took a 
couple of grapes and chewed them very slowly.
	Busara smiled understandingly.  "You are worried that one day you 
will take his place, and that lies will not bother you.  That the means 
will be justified by the end.  It makes you feel dirty somehow just 
thinking about it."
	Metutu met his glance intently.  "Is lying part of being chief?  
Can't I be honest and still do the right thing?  Do you really think God 
changes the truth?"
	Busara sighed deeply.  "Lies are fruits that are ripe and 
beautiful on the outside but have a worm inside!  The same is true of 
someone that cannot be trusted.  I trust God with my life and the life 
of my family.  I know that his words to me will endure forever 
incorruptible and perfect.  Now if you'll pardon me for a moment of 
honesty, I think you'd make a terrible chief."
	Metutu looked down.  "I see.  Then what am I fit for?"
	Busara gently raised Metutu's chin to look him in the eyes.  "Last 
night I had a vision of you bowing before Mano and Minshasa.  Mano 
kissed you and said, `Arise, my true son.  Your father was chief of a 
small village, but if you are faithful you will rule in splendor and 
might with the great kings in the sky.'"
	"Me??  Are sure it wasn't just a dream?"
	"A dream?"  Busara patted his cheek.  "Son, your whole life to 
this point has been a dream.  Now it is time you awoke."
	"What would Aiheu have of me?  What must I do?"
	"You have just taken the first step.  Always ask what Aiheu would 
have of you.  Make it your morning and evening prayer, your first 
thought on waking and your last as you fall asleep.  Next, you must go 
on a vision quest and open your heart to the Creator.  When a cub cries 
to his mother, he is fed.  When you cry to God, he will not leave you 
empty.  Guidance will follow."
	"You want me to be a shaman?"
	"What I want is not important.  I pay little heed to what I want, 
yet everything I truly wanted is here for me.  It is a simple trade.  
You worry about what Aiheu wants, and he will worry about what you want.  
I tell you son, once the staff of a chief is in your hands, it is so 
hard to let go of it.  You'll spend the rest of your life in regret, but 
you'll cling to it as a vine clings to a tree.  I tell you a higher 
purpose awaits you, one that will never bring you to shame."
	"If I am not the next chief, who will free our people?"
	"Someday the people must free themselves.  And if Aiheu wills it, 
so shall it be.  You can run from God, but you cannot hide."
	"But what can I offer him?  I don't feel like a child of Mano.  I 
want to do this, but I'm frightened."
	Busara laughed.  "And you're the only one?  Maybe the world is 
vast, and on it you are just a tiny spot.  But is it not better to be a 
bright spot among the stars than a dark spot on the ground?"
	Metutu sighed.  "You always say the right thing.  I'll do it."


CHAPTER 15:  AT ODDS

	"When Koko had managed to reach in the basket unobserved and 
remove a totem, he felt very clever.  Now he had power from the gods!  
Such mischief he might work against all his enemies who laughed at him!  
And he stole away chuckling to himself.  But the gods soon stopped him 
and demanded the return of their property.  And they condemned him to 
death, but being fair-minded allowed him to choose the method of his 
execution.  Without hesitation, Koko said, `Old age.'
	"The answer impressed the gods, and they knew no ordinary ape 
could have stolen a totem.  So they let Koko go on his way and keep the 
totem, but only to use for good.  They warned him that the day he cast a 
spell of harm he would surely die, and not of old age!  For that reason, 
Koko became a great healer--the first shaman.  And though he worked no 
harm, his enemies ceased to laugh at him, so his days were long and 
happy in the earth."

                        -- "LITTLE BROTHER CHAKO", SECTION 7B

	The Council of Elders was upset.  The rivalry between Kinara and 
Maloki who lived just across the creek had always been a source of 
controversy, but it was usually handled on a personal basis and rarely 
involved the entire council.
	Chango and Bugweto had been to the creek for water.  Everyone knew 
how much Maloki had been charging for water rights, for he had claimed 
to own the creek right up to the opposite bank.  But when some of his 
people were pulling fruits from the breadfruit tree that hung out over 
the water, that was too much.
	"It is rooted on our bank!  It is our tree!" Kinara charged.  
"This is an outrage!"
	Azima, Maloki's son, was equally adamant.  "We only pull fruit 
that hangs out over the water.  There is no way you could pick that 
fruit without trespassing!"
	"We are not trespassing when we pay rent!" Bugweto shouted.
	"The rent is for water.  For water!  You may pick all the fruit 
that hangs over land.  That is legal.  That is fair before the gods!  
Must I remind you that we had an honorable agreement?"
	"At your rental fees, there are no honorable agreements," Kinara 
said, his arms crossed.  "However, we have with us an unimpeachable 
voice where the law is concerned."  He nodded at Busara.  "Everyone 
knows that his word is impartial and honest.  So, what say you, Scribe?"
	Busara looked thoughtful.   He walked between Kinara and Azima who 
were standing dangerously close.  "Once there were two brothers.  They 
both fought long and hard over a great prize for five days and nights.  
They did not eat or sleep.  Finally on the fifth day, they both 
collapsed exhausted.  And while they were asleep, a stranger came in and 
stole the prize."
	"What are you saying?" Azima said.
	"When the tree is ripe, remove all the fruit into one large pile.  
Then divide it equally between our villages."
	"Fine and good," Kinara said.  "But I will do it personally.  
Azima is a cheat like his father."
	"I??  I'M a cheat??"
	"Please, distinguished opponents...."  Busara put a hand on each 
of the two mandrills.  "I have an answer.  One of you will divide the 
pile into two groups, and the other can take his group first.  That way, 
no one would dare cheat."
	"But why would I give him anything?" Kinara said.  The others 
nodded and murmured.  "Why should I even honor his claim?"
	Busara took Kinara out of hearing range, took a deep breath and 
let it out slowly.  "Maloki likes nothing better than to make you 
angry," he whispered, glaring at Azima.  "If you are generous and give 
him fully half, you will take away his excuse to curse you behind your 
back.  He will be miserable."
	Kinara thought a moment, stroked his chin whiskers moodily, then 
smiled.  "I like that.  And next time he accuses me of being greedy, I 
shall remind him!"
	Kinara came back.  With a kindly smile, he patted Azima on the 
back.  "My boy, you are right.  We will give you half of the fruit as my 
friend has suggested.  By all means.  Maybe even more.  Why not take it 
all?  We don't need the extra fruit."
	Azima began to look uncomfortable.  "Is there something wrong with 
it?"
	"No, not at all!  It's wonderful.  I hope you enjoy it.  Why not 
take some home with you?"
	Azima began to scratch his head.  "Now wait a minute here!  What 
did Busara tell you just now?"
	"He told me that it is more blessed to give than to take."
	Azima looked around at the others.  He began to tremble as he met 
each pair of eyes, looking for some hint.  "Like hell he did!" he 
shouted, throwing up his hands.  "You're all a bunch of scheming, lousy 
good-for-nothings!  Do you think I'm stupid??  Keep the fruit!  I hope 
you DO eat it!  By the gods, I hope whatever you planned falls back on 
you threefold!"
	Azima stormed out.  For several moments, there was not a word, not 
a sound.  Then when he was out of hearing range, Kinara began to 
chuckle, then he burst out in laughter, putting his arm around Busara's 
shoulder.  "You no-account scheming little devil you!  I didn't know you 
had it in you!"
	Busara smiled, but his heart was not in it.
	After the meeting, Kinara took Busara aside.  "I'd like to show my 
appreciation, old friend.  I want you to be my chief advisor.  You know 
that is second in power only to me, and I offer it because you are as  
shrewd as you are honest."
	Busara looked uncomfortable.  "Thank you, my chief, but perhaps 
I'm not as shrewd as you think--or as much as I should be."
	Kinara smiled, but laid his hand on Busara's shoulder a bit 
firmly.  "Save your double speaking for them.  When I want a good 
riddle, I'll ask you as Chief Scribe.  Right now I need one word.  It 
sounds exactly like `yes'."
	"I'm sorry, my friend.  I'm not the type you need."
	"Oh?"
	"With all due respect, you want to win at all costs.  It has 
become your fruit and your water.  What you desire most becomes your 
god, but when you die, earthly powers will desert you.  Only love can 
bear your soul to the Blessed Realm."
	"Are you calling me irreligious?"
	"No, old friend.  I'm calling you precious and one of a kind.  A 
child of the gods.  I want something for you greater than this world has 
to offer.  Go home tonight and kiss your wife.  Speak to your son 
Makedde.  Make peace with the boy and realize how much he still loves 
you.  These are more important than all the breadfruit in the world."
	Kinara looks at him undecided.  But he recognized the kindness in 
Busara's voice and patted him on the back.  "You're beginning to sound 
just like my mother.  I'm a big boy now, and I can look out for myself.  
As for my son Makedde, I pray for him every night."
	When Busara saluted him and went back toward his cave, Kinara 
leaned over to one of his lackey guards nearby.  "Take Uwezo and follow 
him.  See what he's up to."


CHAPTER 16:  THE WALLS HAVE EARS

	Uwezo and Doya were very good at what they did.  They were 
Kinara's bodyguards, but they also were remarkably quiet and stealthy 
for large mandrills.  It was a combination that had helped Kinara 
maintain his power for many years.
	Usually, Kinara's ability to "get the goods" on his opponents led 
to no great mischief.  In fact, there were many members of the troop 
that shared an odd kind of bond with him.  They would ask for advice 
about matters they could confess to no one else, and Kinara would 
usually try to be helpful in return.  In that way, he was the Father 
Confessor of the wealthy and powerful.  And never had he violated his 
confidence.
	Uwezo was very observant, and his hearing was very good.  But he 
wondered about the two sets of footprints he thought he heard as Busara 
walked along.  One of the sets sounded very heavy.  He glanced about 
nervously, thinking a leopard may be spying on HIM.  All he saw was Doya 
behind him, and Doya was doing a good job of muffling his steps.
	Suddenly, there was a loud lioness roar.  Forgetting to be quiet, 
Uwezo charged back toward Doya and passed him brusquely.  Busara looked 
around, but by the time he saw the two mandrills, they were far enough 
away to not be recognized.
	"What's the matter, old girl?"
	"I just don't like it," she said.  "They looked suspicious."
	It would do little good to follow Busara when he was alert.  Uwezo 
and Doya had a job to do, and they did not dare risk the wrath of Kinara 
if they failed him.  So deciding that he was headed home anyhow, they 
waited until evening to quietly and cautiously took up hiding places 
right outside the mouth of the cave.
	"This will always be your refuge," Busara said.  "When you need a 
place where you can come and be accepted for who and what you are, our 
arms are always open for you."
	"Thank you," Metutu said.  "I love you more than I can say!  You 
have been so kind.  You and Kima and Asumini."
	"May Aiheu bless you, my son," Kima said.
	Doya glanced at Uwezo.  "Uh oh!"
	"Shhhh!"
	"Your destiny is a special one, Metutu," Busara said.  "In a small 
way I tried to bring some change about today.  Maybe if I am lucky, 
before I die I will hear Kinara and Maloki exchange a few civil words.  
But you are to be the new chief someday.  You will do more in a year 
than I have in my lifetime.  Freedom will blossom and grow like Alba, 
and worship will be the choice of the heart, not that of the council."
	"Just wait till he hears this," Doya said.
	Just then, they heard heavy footsteps leaving the cave and padding 
through the leaves.  "It's that sound again.  Let's get out of here!"  
	Busara looked up.  "What happened to Asumini?  You'd think she saw 
a ghost!"
	Seconds later, the lioness appeared, very agitated.  "Doya and 
Uwezo were right outside."
	"What did they hear?"
	"Probably everything."
	Busara closed his eyes and tilted his head back.  He moaned as if 
someone had gouged him.  "We are in grave danger."
	"Let me kill them," Asumini said.
	"No, girl.  That will only make Kinara more suspicious than ever.  
We are not judge and executioner.  Not like him."
	When Uwezo and Doya found Kinara, Chief Priest Kasisi was with 
him.  They competed to be first to give their reports, knowing that 
there would be a bonus in it for them somewhere.
	"He's an Aiheuist," Uwezo said.
	"He's teaching Metutu to be one," Doya said.
	"He said he tried to get you and Maloki on speaking terms, but 
that Metutu as the next chief would really clear out the cobwebs."
	Kinara sat stunned for a moment, then jerked to his feet.  He 
almost never showed his temper, but he grabbed a fruit he had been 
eating and hurled it at a tree.
	"My son!  He thinks to turn my own SON upon me!  That triple 
cursed barbaric heathen!  I trusted him.  I gave him my own son!  Oh 
gods!"
	Uwezo and Doya were really expecting a reward for that.  Instead, 
Kinara merely dismissed them with a wave of his hand.
	Kasisi was almost foaming at the mouth.  "We have to wipe this 
thing out!  It is a disease, and it's spreading!  Wipe it out, I say!"
	"I'll have to have a little talk with Busara."
	"You'll have to kill him," the Chief Priest said.
	"Denounce my friend to the council?  Have him put down like a 
thief or adulterer?  I will banish him."
	"Banish him and you make him a hero in your son's eyes," Kasisi 
said.  "The same will happen if you give him a public execution.  No, he 
must disappear.  Suddenly and without a trace, do you understand?"
	"But you're talking murder!"
	"I'm talking the salvation of the race!  Death is a part of life, 
but we can influence our time of death by our chosen lifestyle.  His was 
risky-very risky.  He has lived much longer than he ought.  We are 
correcting that oversight."
	"But Kasisi, Busara is my friend!"
	"Busara is heading your son straight to hell!  When he is 
separated forever from the blessed realm, he will curse your name 
through all eternity!  He will say `My father did this to me!'"
	"But murder him??"
	"God will bless you for it, so it is not murder!  I tell you 
Kinara, there are more in this troop that follow him.  Those who are in 
danger.  Like Makedde."
	"What about Makedde!"
	Kasisi crossed his arms smugly.  "You thought you had the goods on 
me!  You thought you had me under your thumb, old friend?  You do your 
duty before God or as sure as there is a God, I'll denounce him to the 
council the way I should have long ago!"
	"You do that and I'll kill you!"
	"Kill the Chief Priest for following his religion?  Do you think 
that would help?  Do you think you could get away with it?  Do you think 
I haven't told anyone else why I was coming here tonight?"
	"Enough!"  Kinara stood facing the trees for a moment, then slowly 
turned back around.  "I don't have to enjoy it as much as you do.  But 
so be it."
	Kinara recalled his two trusted bodyguards.  He grabbed Doya by 
the chin whiskers.  "Listen well.  Our Chief Scribe likes to contact the 
spirit world."  He scowls darkly.  "Very well.  We must arrange it so 
Busara can spend all his time there, if you read my meaning."
	"Yes, sir."
	"Handle it discretely, but handle it by sunrise tomorrow.  For if 
you fail me--"  He patted Uwezo on the head.  "No chance of that.  You 
wouldn't dare fail."
	Bowing and scraping madly, they rushed off.


CHAPTER 17:  THE DIASPORA

	Busara was terrified.  "Metutu, I must gather my belongings and 
go.  I will take Kima and Asumini far away."
	"Take me with you."
	Busara kissed his cheek.  "In my heart, you are always with me.  
It would not help either of us if you ran away from home right now."
	"Where are you going?  You can tell me."
	"I will send Asumini for you when it is safe.  They can't hurt 
her."  He took Metutu firmly by the shoulders.  "I don't have much time.  
There is so much I would say to you, my son.  For now, you must hide the 
faith.  Not in the way you treat others, but in the way you speak to 
others.  Later it can shine, but something awful is about to happen. You 
must remember what I have taught you.  You are our hope, Metutu.  Don't 
let me down or my sacrifice would have been meaningless."
	He grabs Busara's hand.  "Aiheu give me the strength."
	Metutu put his arms around Busara.  "May the gods see between us 
till we meet again."
	"In case things go wrong, bless me for my death."
	"Oh gods, don't say that!"
	"Bless me, Metutu!  I would ask my eldest son, and you are he."
	With trembling fingers, Metutu drew a circle around Busara's right 
eye and drew his fingertips under his chin.  "May you see God.  May you 
speak with Him."  Tears started down Metutu's cheeks, and he hugged him 
again.  "Father, friend, and teacher!  Don't you leave me!  Don't you 
dare die and leave me!"
	"I'll try not to."  Busara dried Metutu's cheeks.  "Go now.  Tell 
no one you were here."
	Metutu hugged him one more time, then headed out by the long, 
winding path.  He didn't want to be seen.
	Kima was gathering up some food, and Asumini--Busara's daughter 
that is--was taking some herbs and talismans.
	"Don't leave until I come back," Busara said.  "I'll scout out the 
trail and make sure we are not being watched."
	With the lioness Asumini, he left to run the first dangerous leg 
of the journey through the cane field and the scrub bushes.  It would 
not do taking them on the well-worn paths.  That route had served him 
well gathering Tiko root, and it would get them over to Maloki's 
village.  Maloki detested Kinara and would be only too glad to accept 
his wise Chief Scribe as a guest, knowing it would rankle his old 
adversary to no end.
	Asumini stopped and looked around.  Busara, who was a little hard 
of hearing, relied on her keen senses.  "What is it, old girl?  Behind 
me?"
	He looked around.  "Uwezo!  Doya!"
	Doya was holding a large rock.  
	"I used to tell you stories when you were kids!  Please!  Let me 
run and just say you killed me!"
	Doya looked a little ashamed.  "OK.  But swear you won't come 
back."
	"I swear!"  Busara slowly turned around, his heart pounding.  
"I'll never come back!"
	Doya lifted the rock and brought it down on Busara's head as hard 
as he could.  Busara fell and moaned.  Doya hit him again and the 
moaning stopped.
	Asumini appeared, snarling.  In fear and dread, Doya threw the 
stone at the crouched lioness, but it passed through her harmlessly.  
"Don't kill me!  Please don't kill me!  Oh gods!"
	"Maybe I can let you run away and just say I killed you."
	"Oh gods!  Have pity on me!  I was following orders!"  He fell to 
his knees and would have groveled on the ground, but right before him 
was the body of Busara smeared with his own blood.  "For the gods' 
sake!"
	"For the god's sake," she snarled, springing forward.
	The next morning Busara did not come to his breakfast meeting with 
Kinara.  The chief acted impatient and made a token effort to have him 
searched for.  But Metutu spotted some blood on the ground and signs of 
struggle in the grass.  "Come look at this!"
	"The trail is old," Chango said.  "He might have been taken by a 
leopard."
	The chief followed Chango, wondering why his own trusted 
bodyguards never came back.  Then he found them horribly ripped with 
their heads nearly bitten off.  It looked like a lion attack, but no 
meat was eaten.
	"Oh gods!" Kinara wailed.
	There are no lion tracks, but the cuts left no doubt what had 
happened.  "Chango, I trust you.  Right now I need you.  Carry the 
bodies away and bury them, and swear to me that NOT ONE WORD gets out to 
ANYONE about this."
	"I swear."
	Sure he knew what had happened, Metutu headed back.  He heard 
footsteps beside him, heavy footsteps.
	"Asumini, is that you?"
	She appeared at his side.  "Metutu, have courage.  I will be with 
you."
	"Asumini, did my father do this?"
	She looked at him glumly.  "Your heart knows the answer.  Metutu, 
I am so sad, so very sad!"
	"I know you loved him."
	"Not sad for him.  Sad for you!  Because you love your father no 
matter what he has done.  Because hard times lie ahead for you.  But 
take heart, for I will not leave you till my work is finished."  


CHAPTER 18:  IN LOVE

	That evening Metutu returned to the one place he could find peace.  
Coming into the mouth of the cave, he saw Kima standing over the food 
for the meal.  Though she was going through the motions of her old life, 
the look in her eyes was very different.  They were dull and lifeless.
	"Kima?  Are you all right?"
	She looked up.  "Metutu?"
	She looked notably older.  Without a moment's hesitation, Metutu 
went to her and embraced her.  The old fire came back to her face as she 
wept on his shoulder.  "Oh thank God you're all right!  You are such a 
good boy.  No wonder Busara loved you so!"
	"I loved him too.  And I promise you that I always will.  I want 
to help any way I can if you'll only let me."
	"You mustn't come here often.  It might harm you if word leaks 
out.  There are spies out there."  Without mentioning Kinara's name, she 
said, "You know that HE knows everything that goes on.  We must be 
careful."
	"It does not matter if I am in danger.  When I am struck down, I 
will be lifted up like Busara in triumph over death!"  He went back into 
the cave and held a lamp next to the paintings.  He saw a picture that 
represented himself together with the family group.  Metutu fell to his 
knees and wept.  "That must be the last thing he painted!"  He touched 
the painting carefully with his fingertips.  "Oh gods, I still can't 
believe he's gone.  I will see that he did not die in vain, Kima.  I 
will carry on his work, so help me gods!"
	"See this line that connects you to Asumini?  It was his hope that 
you should one day be joined in marriage.  It was my hope too that one 
day you would enjoy a love rooted in truth and beauty."  
	Metutu, understandably, did not want to betray his own father to 
the council.  Not that much would come of it, with suspicions about 
Busara's religion having being confirmed.  But he could not condone what 
his father did.
	"Kima, I am going to continue with my studies with Makedde.  I 
will be a shaman as I had promised."
	Kima smiled, but her eyes were sad.  "Aiheu will bless you.  I 
only wish Busara could have been here to finish your training.  He was 
looking so forward to it."
	"I didn't know him for long, but I will never forget his gentle 
wisdom.  He told me to follow my dream.  I will."
	"You must be careful.  Don't let the ignorant put out your light."
	"I am willing to spill my blood for the love of Aiheu.  Without 
his love, life is not worth living."
	"Still don't count your life worthless.  Don't discard it lightly.  
Remember that some of us love you."
	He hugs her around the shoulder.  "Some of us love you too."
	Asumini was looking at the paintings.  "There is my Auntie," she 
said tearfully.  "She loved us, but she was always my father's.  I will 
miss her."
	"She told me she would not leave until her work was done."  He 
thought a moment.  "Besides, I will always be there for you."  Metutu  
took Asumini in his arms.  "As your father gave up his life to pass the 
truth to me, I will make sure you have what you need even if I must do 
without!  I will be another son to Kima, and a husband to you."
	"Metutu, we do not want your pity.  That is not the kind of love 
we feel for you."
	"Not pity!  I have always felt for you.  You were always so wise 
and as beautiful as I am plain."
	"Your face is not plain."
	"Only because you are beautiful enough for both of us."  He kissed 
her first on one cheek then the other.  "Don't blame me for feeling 
attracted to you.  What son of Chako could look at you and not think 
guilty thoughts."
	She gave him a chaste kiss.  "Someday there will be a time for 
guilty thoughts when grief has run its course.  And they will be of you.  
If you love me, give me time."
	"I give you my whole lifetime.  When you need me, I won't be far 
behind."



CHAPTER 19:  THE NEXUS

	Metutu could not get out of his mind what the lioness Asumini had 
said.  "Have courage."  What did she mean?  Courage about the death of 
Busara?  About his new faith?  Secretly he had fantasies about calling 
her up, opening his arms, and saying, "Come to me, Asumini!"  And she 
would make him her brother and tell him wonderful things about life and 
beauty.  
	His father wanted him to be the next chief.  But he felt the call 
to do the will of Aiheu.  He longed for a life of sincerity.  Of course, 
he had hopes that one day mandrill society would change.  But change 
must come from other sources.  Is that the courage he must have?
	Kinara's ongoing feud with Old Maloki was coming to a head.  
Finally the privilege of getting water from the creek on their lands was 
going to start costing them more.  That was it.  Old Maloki had been 
holding on to his lands with great tenacity, but some of his people were 
ripe for a change.  And Kinara thought the best change for all concerned 
was a greater village, and a united council.
	But how best to go about it?  Certainly not by military force, at 
least not the forces of Kinara.  Rather, it must be done subtly from the 
inside with a few well-placed rumors.  After all, the chief felt, there 
was nothing he could say about the old greedy gut that was worse than 
the truth.
	As he was working on his plans, Neema brought him his favorite 
dinner, a mixture of several different fruits mashed together with a 
bowl and antelope bone with an egg.  The three children used to love it, 
not so much for the taste or texture, but the way she fixed it, 
describing the elephant stomping through the village.  She called it 
"Elephant Stew."
	"Neema, is that you?"
	She startled and dropped the plate, spilling the contents all over 
him.
	"What is wrong with you, Missy??"
	She grasped her head.  "Oh gods, I'm so sorry."
	"What's wrong?"
	"I've been a little clumsy lately.  Maybe it's this headache."
	"Headache?  Oh."  He brushed himself off as best he could, but the 
mixture was a little sticky.  "Don't bother with it--I'll clean it up.  
Besides, I need a break."
	Usually she would insist on cleaning it up anyhow.  As Kinara 
headed to the creek to bathe, he began to wonder if maybe her headache 
was worse than she'd been telling him.  And come to think about it, 
she'd had that headache for a number of days that he can remember.
	Makedde was humming to himself softly as he cleaned out the little 
wooden bowl he used for mixing his medicines.  Wiping it clean, he 
discarded the handful of leaves and set the bowl gently in a corner.  
Rising, he turned around and nearly collided with Neema.  Startled, the 
mandrill tumbled backwards, upsetting the stack of crockery and sending 
it tumbling to the floor.
	"Merciful Lord!  You nearly frightened me out of my wits!"  He 
held his chest and exhaled strongly.
	"I'm sorry, son, I didn't mean to frighten you."
	"Of course, Mother.  It's just-unexpected, to see you here."
	Neema wrung her hands nervously, a small tic twitching at her 
cheek.  "I know, and I wouldn't bother you, but...."
	"Mother," Makedde said, slightly chiding.  "You are no bother; you 
are welcome any time.  What is it?"  He looked at her curiously.  "Are 
you all right?"
	She smiled thinly.  "Actually, no.  My head hurts."
	"Again?"  He kissed her.  "If I had to live with dad and his 
schemes I'd have headaches too.  So what is it now, Old Maloki again?
	"Yes.  Always."  She moaned.  "I was wondering if you could help 
me with it.  I need something stronger."
	He chuckled softly and led her over to his sleeping mat where they 
sat down.  "Oh, the day I can't fix a little headache is the day I give 
up my work."  He cocked his head, studying her face.  "Did you fall or 
did it just start hurting?"  He began to feel her head ever so gently.
	"No, I didn't fall, it just started hurting one day, and it's been 
getting worse ever since." 
	His fingers massaged her temples and she wailed in pain.  Makedde 
jerked his hands back as though he had been burned.  He looked at her, 
astonished.  "How long ago was this 'one day'?"
	She looked at him miserably, tears glinting at the corners of her 
eyes.  "Only since the last time you came to eat dinner with us at home; 
on Metutu's birthday, remember?"
	He gaped at her.  "Your head has been hurting for two moons??  My 
gods, why didn't you tell me!"
	She began to weep openly.  "Please don't get mad at me.  You know 
how your father gets; if he knew I was coming to you for help it would 
upset him terribly.  He wouldn't understand."
	"Why didn't you go to another healer, then?"
	"They aren't good like my son.  I don't know about this Aiheu you 
worship, but you have a light that shines in the darkness.  I'm not sure 
if I believe in him, but I believe in you."
	Makedde felt tears sting his own eyes as he gathered her into his 
arms.  He sat back and looked at her, wiping her tears away with a 
trembling hand.  "I will be as gentle as I can."
	Hating himself for the pain he knew he was inflicting, he placed 
his fingers softly on her temples.  Neema hissed in pain but kept still.  
Makedde was alarmed at the thready pulse he felt in her temples; her 
heart was racing like a panicked zebra.  He felt the glands underneath 
her jaw and felt his own pulse race with fear; they were swollen and 
hard, and was hot as a rock at high sun.  He seized a stick used for 
stirring his medicines and held it in front of her eyes.  "Mother, I 
want you to look at the stick.  Follow it with your eyes."
	She looked at him curiously, but nodded.
	Makedde moved the small stick slowly to the left, watching her 
eyes carefully as they tracked it smoothly.  He moved it back the other 
way, with the same result.  His panic receded somewhat; she was not 
showing the signs he had feared.  He stopped moving the stick, still 
watching her.
	Her eyes stayed steady on the twig, but began to twitch 
uncontrollably.  Suddenly her pupils dilated and she fainted.
	"Oh great Aiheu, please, no!"  Leaping forward, he cradled her in 
his arms gently, rocking her back and forth and weeping.
	There was a huge commotion at the entranceway as Kinara came 
bustling in, ringing wet from his bath and out of breath.  "Have you 
seen your mother?  I've looked all over and...."  He broke off, staring 
at her prone form.  "What have you done!  What's wrong with her??"
	Makedde looked up at him, his eyes wild.  "She's very sick.  
Please, help me carry her.  We've got to get her home--now."
	Wordlessly, his father helped him carry the unconscious Neema down 
to the ground.  Amidst a growing crowd, they bore her off to the small 
tree where the chief made his home.  Carrying her up, they laid her 
gently upon the mat of leaves she used for a bed.  Makedde lay a hand 
upon her forehead and groaned; the fever was already building rapidly.  
He could have asked for no surer sign.
	"Makedde?"  Kinara looked at him nervously, the confident tone 
missing from his voice for the first time Makedde could remember.  "Son?  
What's wrong with her?"
	Makedde was unable to speak for a moment; he sat staring at the 
ceiling of branches overhead, blinking back tears.  Finally, he spoke in 
a trembling voice.  "Walk with me."  He looked over at Metutu, who sat 
in the corner, watching him with wide eyes and trembling.  "Metutu, keep 
an eye on Mother for me.  Let me know if she wakes up."
	Makedde rose and led his father outside.  "She is ill, Father."
	"How ill?"
	"She has Bhe'to."
	His father looked at him silently.  He shook his head in 
disbelief, backing away from Makedde.  "People have died from that.  
Tell me what I have to do, and I'll do it."
	"Make her comfortable till the end comes."
	"Is that it?"  The look in Makedde's eyes was unyieldingly grim.  
"Can't you do something?  Isn't there even a small chance?"
	"No.  You know as well as I do there is only a matter of time.  
All we can do, we are doing."
	"Please, Makedde, help her.  Of all the shamans, you are the most 
skilled.  This Aifor--or whatever his name is--doesn't he know how to 
heal this thing?"
	"I'm sure he does.  Aiheu is all-knowing, but shamans are not.  
Busara might have laid hands on her.  Of course, that will not happen 
now."
	"That's it, isn't it?"  His father looked at him, anguished.  "Am 
I the reason?  Don't be afraid--you can tell me.  I'll gladly do 
whatever you want.  I'll debase myself in front of the whole council, 
Makedde, if that's what you want, but for the love of your mother, DO 
something!"
	"There is nothing I can do."
	Kinara grabbed him by the shoulders and looked wildly into his 
eyes.  "My life for hers.  All right, I thought he was ruining our way 
of life and I killed him!  I admit it!  My life for hers!  Kill me--
sacrifice my blood to your Aiheu!  He's only killing her to punish me!"
	"Tell no one about Busara," Makedde told him sternly.  "It will 
destroy you but it won't save her.  Aiheu does not want your blood.  He 
does not destroy the innocent to punish the guilty.  Pray for 
forgiveness for your own sake."
	"I will walk in the light, I swear."  Tears sprang to his eyes.  
"How long does she have?"
	Makedde embraced his father, feeling the sobs wracking his frame.  
"Days.  Hours.  Perhaps minutes.  Make each one count."
	The two froze as a blood-curdling scream reached them.
	"Makedde!  Come quick!"
	"Brother?"  Makedde leapt from the limb like a shot arrow, 
scrambling across the heavy limbs as fast as he could go.  Kinara 
struggled to keep up.
	Makedde swung down from the upper branches and froze in horror.  
Before him Metutu tugged at their mother ineffectually, screaming for 
help.  The mandrill had seized hold of a thickly knotted branch and was 
smashing her head repeatedly into it, blood running down her face in 
rivulets as she howled in agony.  Her unearthly chant of, "Make it stop!  
Make it stop!" chilled Metutu's blood.  Leaping forward, he laid hold of 
her arms and tried to pull her away, and was nearly pitched out of the 
tree for his efforts.
	"Father, help me!"
	"Oh gods!"  Kinara joined his son, and together the three of them 
barely managed to pull Neema away from the limb.  She convulsed 
violently for a moment, then lay still.
	"What do we do now?" the chief asked Makedde.  "What do we do?"
	"I cannot forbid death, but I could prolong her life for a day or 
two with Mechoti.  You would need to keep her from the poisons and she 
would have to be restrained, for in her pain she would try to end it any 
way she could.  On the other hand, I could give her Dakim Bark.  Her 
last moments would be free of pain, and she could say her farewells with 
a clear head."
	"That is not a decision.  It is a test of my love."  He bit his 
fist.  "I love her enough to choose Dakim bark.  For the gods', if she 
must die, at least stop the pain."
	Makedde drew close and hissed, "Don't you dare try to lighten your 
conscience by confessing to her.  You let mother die in peace, you hear 
me??"
	Kinara's jaw began to tremble.  "Don't be angry, son.  I don't 
think I could bear it now.  Please?"
	Makedde hugged his father for the first time in a long time.  He 
then went for his supply of Dakim Bark which he soaked in water.  The 
tea he gave to his mother, who responded soon enough.  As Makedde and 
Metutu looked on, Kinara knelt beside Neema and held her hand.
	"I'm not a fool," Neema said.  "I know I'm dying.  I have no 
choice but to let go.  Kinara, my love, you must also let go of your 
sons.  They must find their path to happiness, and to their God.  
Promise me you will give them their freedom.  Never do to another what 
you did to Busara."
	"Oh gods!"  Kinara fell across her.  "Oh gods, Neema!  How sorry I 
am!  How many times I would have brought him back!"
	"Even with your own life," she said.  "I heard all."  She reached 
up and brushed his cheek with her hand.  "Learn from it, my love.  There 
is forgiveness in Aiheu, if you will only ask him."
	She glanced around.  "Where is Makoko?"
	"I don't know," Kinara said, kissing her brow.  "I'd get him, but 
I'm afraid to leave you!"
	"No time," she said, falling back exhausted.  "I love you all.  
Tell Makoko that I know he loves me.  He didn't have to say it--I could 
tell.  I've been very lucky in love.  I will wait for you all, and 
pray."
	The chief lifted her and held her close to his breast.  "Son, give 
us a moment alone."
	Makedde went outside and began to pack his materials.  His hands 
shook so badly that it took him twice as long.  Nervously, he began to 
unwrap and rewrap the grass cord that served as a handgrip on his 
walking staff.  He struggled to get the winding even and firm, the way 
he liked it.  Soon enough, he would have to braid some new cord out of 
the supple river grass.  It was not easy to obtain or prepare, and it 
took quite a length to wind a good handgrip.
	"Oh gods!"
	Makedde dropped the staff and the cord unwound like a clock 
spring.  He and Metutu ran into their father's quarters.  The chief was  
bent over her still body sobbing brokenly.  "Neema!  My precious Neema!"
	Makedde, Metutu and their father huddled together and wept.  
Makoko came in.  "What's going on here?"
	He came to the bed and stared with horror.  Her face was cut and 
bloody, but on it rested a final look of peace.  He fell to his knees 
and took her hand.  "Mother!"
	Metutu put his arm around Makoko.  "She said she loved you.  She 
said she knew you loved her.  We couldn't leave her to get you."
	The memory came back to Metutu.  "Have courage," Asumini had said.  
He knew now what she meant.  Indeed, he could feel her silent presence 
like a cool wind, giving him strength when he needed it most.
	He reached out and grasped Kinara's shoulder.  "Father."
	"Yes?"
	Metutu swallowed heavily.  "It pains me to say this, but I must.  
I cannot take your place as Chief of the council.  Aiheu has given me a 
gift of healing which I cannot ignore.  He has called me to be a shaman, 
and that is what I must do."
	His father looked at him wordlessly, and Metutu's jaw began to 
tremble.  "I am sorry, Father.  It was a bad time to tell you."
	"Do not apologize, son."  Kinara drew Metutu close and embraced 
him.  "Metutu, she was very proud of you.  I am very proud of you."
	"Really, Dad?"
	"I don't say it unless I mean it.  The hand that heals blessed by 
God."  Metutu took his hand and gave it a little squeeze.  "Makoko will 
one day take my staff and follow in my path.  But you, my son, will bear 
a staff made in Heaven, and all who see you will know you are a child of 
the stars.  Brightly they will shine for you.  Be the best you can be.  
And wherever you go, or whatever you do, remember that my heart goes 
with you."



CHAPTER 20:  IN WITH THE NEW

	"Oh lazy Pishtim, how long must we pray for rain!?  Your chosen 
people are made foolish in the sight of them who say you are not the god 
of gods!  They mock us and say, 'who is their god that cannot make the 
rains fall in due season!'  Rise up and make the rain come down!  Put an 
end to their foolishness, that you might be known as god of gods, light 
of lights, and strength of strengths, even among the heathen."

				-- Traditional Mandrill Prayer for Rain

	That evening, High Priest Kasisi came to console Kinara after the 
manner of his faith.  "There is a large thorn in my heart," Kasisi said.  
"I suffer with you.  But Pishtim is merciful.  To his chosen ones, he 
brings pain in this life that in the next we face him with our debts 
paid and our souls free."
	Kinara immediately took exception to this.  "I have never known my 
Neema to sin.  In fact, she has spent her lifetime giving, giving, 
giving and getting very little in return."
	"Yes, but my brother, I only meant...."
	"I know what you meant.  But if anything, Pishtim owed her 
something.  She had no debts--she was cheated out of her old age.  
Cheated!  She is dead because I killed an innocent friend!"
	"You don't know what you're saying," the priest said.  "I will 
come back later when you have settled your mind."
	"Don't bother, all right?  Just go pray for your own sins and 
leave me alone!"
	Kinara was surrounded by too many painful memories in his home.  
Kasisi's visit only pushed him faster toward Makedde's tree.
	"Son!  Are you home??"
	"Father?"
	"Oh thank the gods!"  Kinara struggled up the side of the tree to 
where Makedde sat grinding herbs.
	"The backache again?"
	Kinara's jaw trembled.  "My heart this time," he said.
	"Dad!"  Makedde embraced him tightly.  "Thank you for coming.  You 
honor my house."
	Kinara wept on his shoulder.  "The priest was by.  He had the 
nerve to suggest Neema's suffering was earned.  Earned!  I ask you son, 
do you think it was earned?"
	"Oh gods no!"  Makedde frowned.  "I hope you straightened the old 
fool out!"
	"Perhaps too much.  I spoke rashly.  Just how rashly depends on 
your answer, so speak very carefully my son.  Are illness and death 
Aiheu's punishments for sin, or do they often happen to the innocent?"
	Makedde gave Kinara a little pat.  "Dad, bad things happen to good 
people in this world of pain, but the kingdom of Aiheu is ruled by love 
alone, and there is no suffering.  Pray to him, and even here in this 
land of suffering, he hears everything you say.  Sit and face the earth 
and repeat my words."
	Kinara knelt and touched the ground with his forehead.
	"Into your hands accept her spirit, she who filled the earth with 
beauty."
	"Into your hands accept her spirit," Kinara stammered.  "She who 
filled the earth with beauty."  He burst into tears.  "Please God, 
whomever or whatever you are, be kind to her!  Oh please!  Pull this 
thorn from my heart!"
	Makedde put his arms around his father and began to sob.
	A quiet moment passed, then Kinara said quietly, "I want to give 
my life to him.  I know now that there is no Pishtim, there is only 
Aiheu.  Will he accept me?"
	Makedde kissed him.  "Before you ever believed in him, he believed 
in you.  Before you ever loved him, he loved you.  And before you ever 
accepted him, he accepted you."
	Kinara took Makedde's hand very tightly in his own.  "As God has 
accepted me, I must accept others.  There must be freedom to worship as 
we see fit."



CHAPTER 21:  SETTING THE RECORD STRAIGHT

	High Priest Kasisi called an emergency meeting of the council.  
Without Uwezo and Doya, Kinara was helpless when the scribes came to 
summon him none to gently to appear.
	Kinara had been the focus of many council meetings, but never 
before had he seen so many cold stares and curious leers when he walked 
into the circle.  And the most icy of stares came from the High Priest.
	"I answer the call.  Now what is required of me?"
	"Only one thing," Kasisi said.  "One very important thing.  The 
most important thing."
	"Cut to the chase," Kinara snapped.
	The High Priest said, "It is fine if other peoples rebel against 
the True God, Pishtim.  But not the people he has chosen as an example 
to the world.  If they are not loyal, they will be punished.  Their 
wives will sicken and their children will die.  That there is no chief 
with the right to rule that does not willingly cry, `Great are you, 
Pishtim, God of Gods, Light of Lights, Creator of the Universe!'"  He 
comes toward Kinara.  "Already your wife has died for your lack of 
piety.  And do not think the grief will end there if you will not pledge 
your loyalty.  But even now, all could be forgiven if you will take my 
sacred rattle and swear your allegiance to Pishtim."
	He started toward Kinara and held out the rattle.  Kinara took it 
and said, "Listen all of you.  I speak before the gods my unbreakable 
oath."  He looked at the severe smile of triumph on the priest's face.  
"I, Kinara, chief of the tribe, tell my OLD FRIEND Kasisi that he can go 
STRAIGHT TO HELL!"
	Kinara smashed the rattle on Kasisi's head.  When he fell back, a 
couple of mandrills rushed to lift him up.  There was a hush in the 
crowd.  An ant toiling on a leaf cutting could have been clearly heard.
	"There is no God but Aiheu!" Kinara boomed.  "God of Gods, Light 
of Lights, Creator of the Universe!  Blessed be the father!"
	"Blasphemy!" some of the mandrills shouted, throwing dust into the 
air and beating on their chest.  But Bazoto and his two sons ran to 
Kinara, fell to their knees and kissed his hands.  "Aiheu abamami!  
Aiheu abamami!"  Kinara laid his hands on them and blessed them.
	"I call for a vote!" the Priest said, spreading out his arms.  
"Shall we follow God, or shall we let him mire us in lion dung??"
	Jadi cried, "Pishtim!"
	The brothers Makali and Kumba cried, "Pishtim!"
	Kinara watched, his heart sinking as one elder after another said, 
"Pishtim!"
	He looked pleadingly at Kobi, his old friend.  Kobi looked away, 
ashamed.  "Pishtim," he stammered.  Kobi had a wife and young children 
to look after, and Kinara understood.
	Smugly, the High Priest looked at Kinara and the three who huddled 
next to him.  "We know how you voted.  It's all too clear.  Do you want 
a recount?  Oh please, if you do, I will give you every opportunity."
	Kinara took in a deep breath, let it slowly out, and said, "I step 
down in favor of my son Makoko.  This is the word of the chief--so be 
it."  He tossed his staff on the ground.
	"A wise decision," the Kasisi said with a sneer.  "Now I want you 
and the other three out of the circle.  And let everyone understand 
clearly...."  He looked around at all the faces one by one, then pointed 
at Kinara and those huddled near him.  "....that if THESE unhallowed 
persons EVER defile this holy ground again, they will be put to death 
IMMEDIATELY.  This is the word of the Chief Priest--so be it!"


CHAPTER 22:  MEA CULPA

	The next morning, Kinara took the longest walk of his life.  
Busara's cave was a shrine of peace for Metutu, but Kinara found it a 
monument to his crushing guilt.
	"Kima, are you there?"
	"Where else would I be?"  She stepped out and looked at him with 
icy reserve.
	"I wondered if you were all right.  Have enough food?"
	"My needs are met.  Sorry about your wife."
	"Sorry about your husband," Kinara said with a catch in his 
throat.  "You could never imagine how sorry."
	"Maybe not."
	"What I mean is...."  Kinara scratched his chin nervously.  "What 
I mean is, it's very sad he didn't live to see an age when hearts will 
be free to worship God as they see fit."
	"It IS a shame."
	"You're not making this very easy.  Not that I blame you.  Chiefs 
come and go, and are soon forgotten.  Busara had a different kind of 
greatness.  When I die, I'd be flattered--no, extremely lucky if Busara 
even lets me bring his breakfast or run his errands."
	Kima looked at Kinara.  "You killed him, didn't you?"  she asked 
quietly.
	"No!  My bodyguards...."  he stopped and looks at the ground for a 
moment.  Sighs.  "They acted on my command.  I must pay for what I have 
done."
	She took a digging stick and shoved him back against the wall, the 
point pressing against his throat.  "Oh, you'll pay, all right!"
	"Please, hear me out!"
	"If you were REALLY repentant, why not admit your guilt to the 
council and be punished?  Give me one good reason why I should let you 
live."
	"For my son's sake.  Metutu would give up all that Busara taught 
him to support you and your daughter.  Servants are not hard to find, 
but my son has a power and a calling I don't understand.  I must free 
him to do the work that Aiheu requires.  Busara would have wanted it."
	She let the stick drop a little.  "So if you cared what Busara 
wanted, why did you kill him?  He was a kindly old graybeard who never 
hurt a soul."  She jabbed him lightly with the point of the stick.  
Clearly, she wanted to do worse.
	"I thought he was corrupting my son.  I love my son, and I would 
kill for him.  You would have killed me to protect Busara.  Even now you 
hold that stick like a lioness ready to strike.  I can feel your rage, 
so akin to mine."
	"How could you know how I feel?  How could you possibly know what 
I feel?"
	"My Neema," he said.  Tears began to stream down his face.  "If 
your husband had been alive, he could have saved her.  I've done much 
mischief in my life, but I gave my family the same love you give your 
God.  Now your God is all I have left."
	She wavered for a moment, then threw away the stick.  "Very well.  
I will tolerate you, but I don't have to like you."
	She got a basket for herself and one for Kinara.  "Come with me.  
Be silent and see that we are not followed."
	She took him by a long, winding route toward the place where her 
husband used to gather Tiko root.  She paused for a moment at the edge 
of the forest and looked down in the grass.  She was very quiet and 
contemplative, so that Kinara's curiosity was aroused.
	"Is something wrong?"
	"No.  It's just that her presence is very strong here."
	"Whose?"
	"You wouldn't understand."
	"The lioness, isn't it.  The stories were true, weren't they?"
	"Yes.  She killed your two bodyguards.  The one that stopped my 
husband and the one that hit him with the rock."
	The red patches on Kinara's face were flushed.  "So you knew all 
along."
	"Had you not come to see me, she would have killed you too.  She 
loved him, in her own way as much as I did.  She loved Asumini and I, 
but he was her special joy.  When you had him...."  She stopped herself.  
She felt of the spot in the grass and started to cry.  "Damn you, Kinara 
for the pain you brought this family!  We never hurt anyone--we were 
healers and teachers of the young!"
	He touched her shoulder.  "I'd give anything if I could bring him 
back."
	She jerked back.  "You can't!  You will have to fill the hole 
yourself.  You have been a taker all your life.  Now you must be a giver 
like my husband, or Aiheu will ask for a reckoning.  That is your one 
chance, and you'd do well not to trample it the way you trampled my 
heart!"
	Together they went into the cool of the forest and sought out the 
rare mint.

CHAPTER 23:  THE QUALITY OF MERCY IS NOT STRAINED

	Though the path was deliberately long and winding, Kinara 
remembered where the mint was and had little trouble finding it again.  
Dutifully, he took his basket into the forest to gather the rare mint, 
and even sneak a small piece to savor its wonderful taste and aroma.  
While his sense of direction was good, his skill at escaping detection 
was not as well developed.
	Coming from the forest, he had only traveled a short distance 
across the grassland when he sensed he was not alone.  He began to 
glance about anxiously, his breath coming in quick tides.  His pace 
quickened, and he knew his best hope was to get back to the cave as 
quickly as possible.
	In the grass on either side, he could hear rustling.  He began to 
run.  Then all pretense of stealth was dropped and three mandrills came 
running after him.  They quickly overtook him and while two held him by 
the arms, the third, a long time enemy named Jambazi, took his fist and 
plunged it time and time again into Kinara's stomach.  By the time they 
let him go, he crumpled into a miserable, moaning heap.
	"Oh gods, help me!" he gasped.  "Help me!"  He lay there for 
several minutes before he could move.  Then he slowly, painfully crawled 
about looking for the basket.  It was gone, and the mint with it.  He 
fell to the ground, exhausted.
	Back at Busara's cave, Kima was beside herself with anger and 
worry.  "He's been gone for hours!  To think I was stupid enough to tell 
him where the mint was!  To think I was stupid enough to trust him!  He 
used me, the same way he's used them all!"
	The lioness Asumini rubbed against her.  "I will kill him, honey 
tree.  They will not trace it to you.  He will pay for hurting my little 
Kima!"
	"Not yet, my dear.  Not yet.  First I want to see him again and 
see what excuse he gives.  It may be amusing to hear what lies he comes 
up with."
	"Still, I think a good quick bite to the neck will do him a world 
of good."
	"You'll get your chance, I promise."  Kima reached down.  She 
could feel the soft warm fur of the lioness and it gave her comfort.  
"You keep me sane, old girl.  The kindness my husband showed you has 
been repaid many times over."  Kima smiled.  "You must tell me all about 
it when you get through with him."
	Just then, a strange sound came from outside the cave.  Kima got 
up and came to the mouth of the cave.  She saw something moving toward 
her and ran to investigate.  It was Kinara crawling on all fours, blood 
oozing from the corners of his mouth.  He heard her approach and looked 
up pitifully, holding out a trembling hand.  "Kima, help me!"
	Kima reached down and grasped his hand.  She lifted him carefully 
to his feet and let him lean on her as he staggered into the cave.  
"What happened?"
	"Jambazi found me.  The coward had two of his friends with him.  
He won't face me alone."  He wretched.  "Thank the gods they don't know 
where the mint is--I'll never tell them even if they kill me."
	"Forget the mint," she said.  She got a gourd full of water and 
washed off his face.  "Lie still on the bed!  I will get you something 
for the pain."
	She mixed him a special tea, and got him some fresh grass for the 
bed.  It was not long before he began to show improvement.  "Thank the 
gods for you, Kima!"
	"You were gone so long, I was worried about you."  She quietly 
resolved never to tell him what she had discussed with Asumini.
	"My enemies.  Once there was fear in their eyes, but now they only 
laugh at me.  Look at the old fool!"  Tears well up in his eyes.  "How 
low I have fallen!"
	He got his strength back overnight, especially when Kima worked 
his injured stomach and gave him a powerful soporific tea that made him 
sleep dreamless and deeply like a stone all night long.
	The next morning with a resolve that was reminiscent of his old 
self, Kinara took the basket and started to leave again.
	"You must be careful."
	"I will.  I'm not going to go without a good hard stick.  I'll 
pound them into the ground!"
	"We should tell the scribes and have them arrested."
	"The scribes would not help me.  They hate me."  He patted her 
hand.  "I learn who my true friends were too late."
	She shrugged.  "Take care."
	Kinara left with his basket.  Kima watched him from the cave mouth 
until he was far afield.  She looked down at Asumini.  "Follow him."
	Stoically, Kinara took another path.  With the stick at his side, 
he felt a little more brave.  He glanced about, anxious to spot trouble 
and change his path if necessary.
	But without warning, an arm reached out from a bush and grabbed 
the club from his hand.  "I was just thinking I wish I had a good club.  
And there it was!"  It was Jambazi.  He stepped out to face Kinara, and 
his two toughs came out quickly and cut off his escape.
	They laughed and shoved him back and forth.
	"You know, I tend to get what I want.  I wanted a club and I got 
one.  And right now, I'm in the mood for Tiko Root.  You know, maybe a 
sprig or two.  Maybe more?  Know where I can get some?"
	"Maybe from Makedde.  My son keeps it in stock."
	"Maybe I want mine picked fresh, old fool.  Where can I pull a 
sprig or two?"
	"I don't know, and even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."
	"Oh you know, and you'll tell me."
	"For the gods' sake, leave me alone!  I'm trying to help out a 
widow!"
	"Oh, well if that's all."  The leader makes a gesture.  Without a 
word, the other two grabbed his arms and held him tightly.  "As I see 
it, you killed Busara.  We could help the old widow by sending her your 
ears in a gourd--or maybe your heart."  He laughed.  "Of course we might 
work out something less violent.  Maybe we could work out a trade here."
	"You don't want to help her," Kinara said.  "You just want to 
steal her Tiko Root."
	"Aw, listen to that, guys!  I'm hurt!  Really wounded!"  Jambazi 
drew up close to Kinara.  "Fact is, we're going to prove how wrong you 
are."  He pokes him in the stomach with the stick, making him yelp.  
"You're going to show us where the mint grows, and we're going to 
protect it for her.  Understand?"
	"I understand perfectly."  Kinara spit on him.
	Jambazi wiped his face off, and with a forced grin said, "I think 
it's time we taught you manners, old fool!"  He felt of the stubs of 
broken branches on the end of the large stick.  "Interesting 
possibilities, eh?  Now where do we begin, Kinara?  On the stomach, or 
on the ribs?"
	He drew back the stick.  "Answer me quickly, or I'll do both."
	Jambazi felt a slight tug on the end of the stick.  He tried to 
swing it, but it was caught on something.  He looked around but saw 
nothing.  "What the hell?"
	With a huge yank, the stick came flying out of his hand.
	"What are you doing?" one of the other bullies asked.
	"I don't know!"  Jambazi began to back away.  Maybe he knows 
magic, deadly magic.  "Yeah, it's either him or us!"
	"But the root!"
	"Forget the root!"  Jambazi took a sharp-pointed digging stick 
that he wore around his waist and lunged at Kinara.  Something sharp and 
thorny grabbed his ankle and he fell flat on his face.
	Turning over, he looked up into empty air.  Something heavy bore 
down on him.  He looked around for his friends, but they were gone.  "Oh 
gods!  Oh gods!  Something's got me!  Come back!  Help!"
	"So you like to beat up old folks?" a lioness' voice growled.  
"Try me on for size!"
	Jambazi dropped the stick and began to cry.  "Don't hurt me!  
Please don't hurt me!  Let me go!"
	Hot, meaty breath enveloped his face, gagging him, and a voice 
spoke in his ear:
	"If you or anyone else so much as touches a hair on Kinara's 
beard, there won't be enough of you left to make a meal for a jackal.  
You'll be sure to tell your friends now, won't you?
	"Yes ma'am!"
	"Now GET OUT!"
	"Yes ma'am!  Thank you, ma'am!"
	As soon as Jambazi felt the weight lift from his chest, he 
scrambled to his feet and ran back toward the village.
	Kinara stood quietly, afraid to move.  He saw the footprints 
approach, then stop in front of him.  A warm tongue bathed his hot face, 
and the smell of wild honey gently enveloped him.  A faint shimmering 
outline appeared, and coalesced into Asumini's form.
	"So the rumors are true."  His jaw trembled.  "You saved me.  I 
owe you my life."
	"You owe Kima your life.  I'm just along to make sure you pay up."
	"Is that the only reason?"  He reached out and stroked her cheek 
and the top of her head.  "Can it be that there is forgiveness for old 
Kinara yet?"
        The lioness shook her head.  "No."
        His face fell.  "Then Aiheu has rejected me?"
        "He has rejected the old Kinara."  A smile appeared on her face 
as she slowly helped him up.  "You have rejected the old Kinara as well, 
so take heart."
	He put his arms around her neck and hugged her.
	She told him, "Busara prays for you and asks me to help you.  So 
does your wife Neema and your parents.  In fact, you have a lot of good 
friends for such an unprincipled, irritating little monkey."
	"Thanks, I think.  I'm sure I deserve worse."
	"I see the good in you.  I see it striving to come out.  Once I 
found good in an unexpected place.  Perhaps I will again."
	"In me, perhaps?"
	"I will take care of you whenever you go out to help my lady.  I 
will be your companion, and when you need it I will even give you some 
mothering."
	"Bless you!  Bless you!"
	She touched him with her warm tongue.  "We will be good friends, 
Kinara.  And this will be a bond between us that as long as the goodness 
in you prevails, I will watch over you.  And my repentant friend, the 
minute you put the moves on Mrs. K, I'll slowly skin you alive."
	He smiled sheepishly.  "Agreed, my dear.  But I wouldn't worry.  
You're much more my type."  He reached out and kissed her cheek.
	"You still have that old charm, I see."  She licked her paw and 
purred softly.
	That evening Kima was taking her walk when she saw Kinara by 
Busara's funeral effigy--a small clay figure that represented him for 
grieving purposes.  She stood silently in the concealing brush and 
listened.
	Kinara was sobbing like a baby.  Taking a large thorn, he jabbed 
it deeply into his palm and let the blood drip on the clay figurine.  "I 
love you, Busara!  Rest peacefully, old friend!  Remember me."
	He looked up and saw the first bright star of night.  "Kinara," it 
whispered, "Remember the admonition."
	"Daima pendana," he stammered.  "Love one another."  Suddenly it 
became clear to him.  It was not a mistake he must regret, but a sin he 
must repent for.  It did not matter what Busara's faith was, for he knew 
better.  He had always known better, and so had the high priest!  "God 
forgive me!  Forgive me, God!  Forgive me!"  He wept, but a great weight 
was lifted from him.  "I'll never forget the admonition again!  I 
swear!"
	That night, Kinara went to his usual bed outside of the cave 
mouth.  He stared at the sky, hoping to see a friendly star looking down 
on him.  But the stars were quickly swallowed up by clouds from the 
west.  The cool wind brought the smell of moisture, and it would have 
been great sleeping weather if he had been in a shelter.  Instead he 
braced himself for what he knew was coming.
	A cool drop fell and hit his nose.  It was followed by its sister 
that wet his ear.  Several more came, tapping lightly on the leaves of 
the tree where he huddled for shelter.  Unfortunately, the tree was not 
very full, and as the drops increased in tempo, he felt the lucky ones 
pelt his fur.  The wind strengthened, and as the storm matured, the rain 
bypassed the tree entirely, soaking him.
	Lightning silvered the drops for an instant.  A few seconds later, 
thunder roared its mighty challenge that no one dared oppose.  "No sleep 
tonight," Kinara thought to himself.  His musing was punctuated by a 
second bright flash and underscored by another roll of thunder.
	Kima came to the entrance.  "Come in, Kinara."
	Without arguing his unworthiness, he came at once.  She showed him 
to some dry bedding.
	"Bless you."
	She saw blood on his hand.  Pretending surprise, she asked, "What 
happened to you?"
	"Oh this?"  He timidly shrank from the question, but tears began 
to flow.  It was some time before he could regain his composure.
	"You did this to yourself, didn't you?"
	"The blood of my guilt," he said.  "No God craves the blood of the 
gentle and kind.  Not Pishtim, and not Aiheu.  I said there were 
circumstances when anyone would do what I did.  Maybe so, but that still 
does not make it right."
	She looked at him with pity.  "Now you truly understand.  You 
cannot kill for God, and you cannot heal for the Makei.  The only way to 
know God is to know love.  That is the only real mystery of our faith."
	Kinara smiled.  It was such a warm smile that Kima had to smile 
back.  "You're chilled.  Let me fix you some hot tea."

CHAPTER 24: THE VISION QUEST

	Kinara's scandal was the talk of the village, though most people 
were discrete about it because his son Makoko was now chief.
	As proud as Metutu was of his father for standing up for his 
beliefs, he bitterly resented the timing.  The situation could affect 
his petition to make a vision quest, and Metutu needed the chance to 
come to terms with his grief and prepare for his future.
	Metutu was determined to follow his dream, regardless of what the 
council decided.  Yet he knew it would be almost impossible for him to 
trade for herbs and to spend the kind of time with Makedde he needed to 
complete his training if he did not get their blessing.
	Custom forbade him to lobby directly with the chief, though they 
were brothers.  Instead he turned to Makedde.
	Makedde could go to the chief on behalf of another, and he used 
all of his influence for Metutu's petition.  That involved making a deal 
with the kindly but shrewd Makoko.  Makoko loved his brothers, but he 
had a request from the Lion King Ahadi that he was agonizing over, and 
he smelled an opportunity.  So to push Metutu's petition through, 
Makedde must agree to become Metutu's sponsor--no small responsibility--
and also return to the Pride Lands for another two-year term as healer 
to the Lion King.
	It would be difficult living in a hollow baobab tree far from the 
forest rim, and Makoko expected his brother to be upset.  Makedde did 
his best to look outraged, but to graciously give in "for the boy's 
sake."
	In fact, he had longed to immerse Metutu in the culture and 
religion of the lions, his adopted people.  He dared not show his 
enthusiasm to the chief, even if it was his own brother.
	"Brother, I give you my word before the gods," Makedde said with a 
carefully staged sigh.  "Let it be even as you have said."
	It was also the perfect excuse to leave before rumors began to 
leak out about the death of Busara, and it was sure to happen soon 
enough.  He quickly went to his residence and took all of his medicines 
and charms with him.  His patients would be referred to Andara, and with 
barely suppressed excitement, he took a gourd and hung it near his 
entrance.  The moon painted on it said "I am away," and from it he hung 
five small bundles of grass.  One would mean "back momentarily."  Two 
would mean "returning later today."  Three meant, "try again tomorrow."  
The message of five was unmistakable.  "I will return someday, God 
willing."
	Metutu had reached the next step in his spirit quest.  For to be 
accepted as a shaman, the petitioner must go apart from the others for a 
time of prayer and self denial.  He may be gone for a few days, a few 
weeks, or he might not return at all.  And he would seek a mystic vision 
that would guide his future training and map out the course of his life 
of service.  It would point out his strengths and weaknesses.  Until he 
had that vision, he would not return.
	After bidding farewell to Kima and Asumini, Metutu left on his 
journey with far less preparation than his brother Makedde.  Taking 
nothing but a charm which he wore around his neck on a grass rope thong, 
Metutu left the village where he had spent his whole life.
	He knew to look for a sign, and he would journey until that sign 
was reached.  An eagle will alight on a kopje.  While he would otherwise 
have given up hope, he knew the vision was from the gods, and he would 
see it when the time was right.
	As he walked the tedium began to play on him.  He asked for 
relief, and the gods sent him a song.  He didn't know if the words were 
ancient, brand new, or just meaningless sounds, but they lightened his 
heart.  Part of it went something like this:

	Be'ha, me'ha, topi ko hiha
	Menego muta kohoki!  (Clap twice)
	Do'ka, mo'ka, lopi mo gopa
	Menego muta aloki!  (Clap twice)

	The verse seemed to have magical properties.  When he continued to 
sing it, he was not as weary and hungry, and he didn't mind the reduced 
rations as much.  When he would pause for a moment, the fatigue and 
hunger would sap at his resolve.
	Of course there were times he had to stop and rest.  For he kept 
going all day, and of course he could not walk all night.  Under the 
stars.  Fascinated by how they shined.  Wondered who they were in their 
stately beauty.  Though he had remembered many star stories, he had only 
seen them a couple of times before and he could not place the proper 
names to the right constellations.  This is not an uncommon fate for 
those who live in the deep forest where the night sky is filtered by the 
fingers of countless leaves.  The sounds were strange.  Frogs.  Though 
he had grown weary from a long day's march, he had trouble sleeping.  
One of the stars seemed to call to him.  The more he looked at it, the 
more he felt compelled by it.  He remembered what Busara had said about 
the great kings of the past.  Could that be a friend?  The star seemed 
to twinkle with special brilliance.  How could it not be calling to him?  
Seeking to comfort him?
	There was a dancing blue light and laughter.  Asumini's laughter.  
Busara's laughter.  As he stared, the light resolved into two figures.  
The lioness squatted down, her tail lashing.  The mandrill began to 
dance about, taunting her.  "You can't catch me!"
	"Oh yeah?"  Asumini came up, her back legs tensed to spring.  She 
launched after him and he sprang straight up to let her pass underneath.  
He fell with a plop on her back and laughed.  She wheeled about, 
scooping him in the crook of her arm.  Then playfully but gently she 
tossed him into the air and caught him in her powerful forearms.
	Busara's arms went around her neck and he kissed her around the 
face.  "I love you so much, I could just eat you up!"
	Delighted, Metutu came running.  "Wait for me!  Hey, it's me, 
Metutu!"
	They looked at him, a calm smile on their faces.  Asumini ran to 
meet him, stopping just short of a collision.  She said not a word, but 
took in a deep breath, then blew a puff of wind in Metutu's face.  It 
smelled like wild honey.  It intoxicated him.
	"Asumini," he said, drunk with the fragrance of the blessed.  "My 
girl!"
	She breathed on him again.  "Sleep.  Dream.  Be happy."
	He collapsed to the earth, looking up while his heavy lids would 
remain open.  Asumini and Busara looked down and smiled.



CHAPTER 25:  THE SIGN

	His rest was disturbed by the early morning singing of birds.  He 
looked about.  The sun was up, and in the early morning light the field 
looked almost magical.  Where had the night gone!
	He was hungry, and for once no one had prepared breakfast.  His 
stomach was ready to mutiny and he had to eat something!  He took a few 
supplementary bits of dried fruit from his basket and managed to locate 
a few ripe fruits on Mafutu bush.  This would have to do.  Taking a 
little of his precious water supply, he ate slowly to make the meal more 
filling, then relied on his morning meditation to take his mind off his 
mean diet.  He prayed for each of the friends he left behind, and for a 
few that recently went to join Aiheu in the heavens.  Finally, he 
remembered Asumini.  How his mother had wanted to see them marry before 
she died!  But far removed from the sights and people he associated with 
his duty and his griefs, he could contemplate Asumini on her own merits.  
And what his cleared head and purged heart were telling him was 
unmistakable: he loved her!  Beneath the plans of others and the call of 
duty was a real love.  He missed her terribly, and hoped she felt the 
same way about him.
	He traveled far that day.  There was a change of scenery, and he 
seriously worried that he could get lost if he did not watch for 
landmarks, and perhaps leave a few.  The path was looking more and more 
like a simple scratch in the earth, and he worried that this game trail 
may disappear completely.
	It did worse than that.  It was joined and criss-crossed by many 
others.  Now he knew that without God's guidance he may never find his 
home.  But still he kept his faith in the fore and continued.
	Finally, he had made it to the savanna.  It was a land of 
windswept beauty, but it was also a land that had never known the Peace 
of Asumini.  Here he was not corban.  "Aiheu abamami!" he cried.  Surely 
he would not be attacked with the holy name of God on his lips!  "Aiheu 
abamami!"  He saw the eagle on the kopje, and his heart danced!  The 
eagle looked at him, said, "Aiheu abamami!" and vanished.  So he knew 
that was his place, and he sat on the rise to pray.  Though it was a 
very exposed spot, he was no longer afraid.
	He ate certain plants he found there, but only at sunrise and 
sunset.  His Spartan regimen was enough to frighten most young bucks 
away.  There was very little sleep, much prayer and chanting, and 
bedding on the bare ground at the mercy of the gods to keep him safe.
	The first two days yielded no visions.  But the simple living he 
endured opened his spirit to the small voices inside more than days of 
talking to others could have.  At times, he could feel the presence of 
Asumini and Busara, giving him subtle nudges in the right direction.  
His prayers flowed naturally from the heart--they were not forced or 
contrived.  The light-headed sensation that came from minimal food and 
much water cleared out all of the spiritual impurities of his past.  He 
felt like a gourd ready to be filled.  Somehow, he knew he would not 
wait much longer.  Somehow, he was certain that the gods were with him.
	By the third day, he passed a very important stage.  He felt glad 
that he had come, whether or not he saw a spectacle.  For his heart knew 
a peace it had never felt since his mother's illness.  Once again he 
felt like a fresh young student listening to Busara's stories in the 
cave.
	Finally on the fourth day, he saw a sign.  From the jungle came a 
spirit leopardess.  He knew her the moment his eyes caught sight of her.  
He could feel her strength, but he could not feel fear.  "I greet you, 
Mother of Death."
	"Mother of life now," she purred.  Indeed, in her soft hazel eyes 
was warmth and approval.  "I spared you for a reason that even I did not 
know.  It was perhaps the greatest thing I ever did."
	"You taught me that other people have feelings too."  He held out 
his arm.  "Asumini is not here now.  I would apologize for my own 
behavior, from the heart."
	She came to him and smiled.  "Yes, you are changed."  She purred 
and quickly touched his hand with her tongue.  "I tell you this day you 
will find answers."  Before Metutu could answer her, she had vanished.
	It was a puzzling saying.  Did she mean, "Today I tell you that 
you will find answers," or "I tell you that you will find answers 
today?"  One way or another, it gave him hope, and he renewed his 
efforts, praying to Aiheu with arms outstretched.  He looked into the 
golden sun, then bowed his head to the ground.  By concentrating on the 
phrase "Aiheu abamami," he could block out all other things.  His 
excitement made it difficult to achieve the state of openness he 
desired, but eventually even his excitement was set aside and in the 
purity of his fasted body and open mind came the realization that he was 
being tugged in the spirit.  He closed his eyes, then bowed his head to 
the ground once more.
	Suddenly he felt himself yanked upright, though he didn't feel any 
hands on him.  He opened his eyes and saw that he was in a very bleak 
place, no trees, no grass, no birds in the sky.  All is dead.
	Then he saw was a pure white lioness.  He had seen a leopard close 
up before, staring at him from tree to tree.  He'd been terrified of 
encountering such a thing again, but she was bigger--much bigger--and 
still he was not frightened.  She spoke to him of strange and wonderful 
things that in the barren world were like an oasis of joy:

	Silver swans fan the moon with misty praying wings
	Night shadows gather over every living thing
	Silent shining dewdrops are caressing fragrant flowers
	Follow me beloved, for the mystery is ours!

Her voice, like a siren, pulled him onward and upward.

	Soft fur cushioning your gentle, weary face
	Senses are filled with joy, heart is filled with grace
	Time has no meaning here, heaven knows no bound
	Follow me beloved, and tread on holy ground!

	She nearly led him to walk off a cliff, but at the last minute she 
prevented it.  He pursued her and she ran from him, but no faster than 
he could follow.  At the top of the sacred mountain, before a cave, she 
came to him.  "Metutu," she half whispered.  "Have you ever heard the 
sun rise?  Have you ever tasted the wind?"
	"No, my lady."
	"Neither have I."  Her laughter was merry and infectious.  "Yet 
stranger things shall you hear and taste.  Now let us make life."  
Rather surprisingly, a pure white lion came over the ridge.  Quiet as a 
snowflake, he padded toward the white lioness.  "Stay here," she said to 
Metutu, nuzzling the white lion passionately and following him into the 
cave.
	Metutu saw nothing, but moments later there was a cry of ecstasy.  
Brilliant golden light streamed from the mouth of the cave.  Almost at 
the same moment under his feet grass sprouted and spread.  Flowers 
pushed up through the earth and budded into rapturous bloom.  Forests 
raised branches in worship toward the gods, and in the boughs birds 
emoted their woodnotes wild.  In the dry creek bed, water rushed with 
passionate intensity toward the distant lake.  The leaden sky turned 
deep blue, and the sun with golden intensity painted everything in vivid 
colors.
	From the cave, the white lion staggered.  Then he glanced briefly 
at Metutu.
	"Are you a god?" Metutu asked.
	"Are you?" the lion asked.  Then he collapsed and his breath 
rushed out in a prolonged sigh.
	Metutu ran to the lion.  Felt of his heart.  He was quite dead.  
Metutu did something he'd always wanted to do, but under happier 
circumstances.  He ran his fingers through the soft white mane.  With a 
flint from his pouch, he took a small lock of the mane and cut it, 
putting the fur lovingly away.  "Poor thing, poor beautiful thing.  Pray 
for me when you sit among the stars."
	"Do not mourn the living," Busara said.  "His power, his life, are 
all around you."
	Busara's sudden appearance startled him.  "What does this mean?" 
Metutu asked.
	"Does it have to mean something?"  Busara smiled beguilingly and 
embraced him.  "Perhaps there is a great light inside of you.  Perhaps 
it is in everyone just waiting for love to release it.  And when you 
give up that love, sooner or later it comes back to you."
	The white lioness came from the cave.  She went and breathed on 
the face of the white lion, and his eyes opened.  The lion, more 
beautiful than ever, lifted his head and kissed her.  Metutu looked on 
with his face beaming.  Now he understood.  "Live, friend.  Live forever 
in love."
	Suddenly, Metutu was back sitting on top of the kopje where he had 
gone to meditate.  He looked around and saw nothing had changed since 
that morning.  Then just to be sure he glanced in his pouch.  With 
trembling hands, he pulled out a lock of pure white fur that was not 
there before.  He closed his eyes and caressed the lock to his cheek.  
"O thank you, Father Mano!  Thank you!  Live forever in love!"


CHAPTER 26: INITIATION

	When Metutu returned from his vision quest, he did not go to see 
his father or his friends.  He was met at the outskirts of the village 
by a couple of pages who took him in the strictest silence down the 
pathway to the meeting place of the council.  Walking this path in 
silence was on pain of banishment, for the spirits of evil must not have 
a trail to follow to the heart of the community.
	The Council of Elders had convened and around the council rock sat 
all of the important leaders of the village.  On council rock itself sat 
Metutu's brother Makoko who was now chief.
	Metutu bowed to the ground before Makoko.  "I am not worthy."
	"You are worthy, my brother.  Rise."
	Gravely Makoko stared at him.  It is what Metutu expected, for the 
events playing out there were part of initiation, and he was not upset.  
"So candidate Metutu, you have returned to us.  What have the gods shown 
you?"
	Metutu looked over the large group.  He fought to keep his nerves 
in control, took in a deep breath and let it slowly out.  "I was taken 
to a barren land under gray skies.  It was cold and desolate.  Then into 
it came a lioness of purest white who sang to me.  She invited me up a 
sacred mountain where on the peak she met a white lion.  She said, `let 
us create life,' and the two of them went into a cave.  Then they...."  
Metutu bowed his head sheepishly.
	"Candidate, what the gods reveal is beyond reproach."
	"Well, they made love.  At least I think they did from the way he 
cried out."
	One of the younger members snickered, but he was quickly cut down 
by several icy stares.
	"Anyway after he--cried out--this bright light went out of the 
cave and everything that was dead started to bring forth life.  The 
skies were blue and full of singing birds.  There were trees and grasses 
and rivers and all kinds of animals.  It was so beautiful!"
	"And what does this mean?"
	"Busara told me that there was a light inside of me waiting to 
come out."
	"You saw a vision of Busara?"
	"It was a vision, but Busara was there.  They were all there!  
Look!"  He pulled out the lock of white fur.  "This is from the lion's 
mane!"
	There were gasps from the assembly.
	Makedde stood by him.  "I ask permission to teach the candidate 
the ways of healing."
	"Granted, Makedde.  But first I should warn the candidate that 
those who would seek the truth are apt to find it."
	The very next day, Metutu was preparing to leave for the Pride 
Lands.  He was approached by Asumini, a name well given for she was 
fragrant with the smell of blossoms that she crushed in her hair.
	"I'm proud of you Metutu.  When you first came to study with us, I 
laughed at you.  But you're not funny.  I think you're very brave and 
that the love of truth burns in you."
	"I covet your praise most of all."
	"I was worried about you.  The whole time you were gone I only got 
a few hours sleep.  And what's more, I missed you terribly."
	"Oh Asumini!  I missed you too!  You are my very special friend."
	She said "As special as you could need or want."  She kissed him 
passionately.
	He trembled.  "Oh gods, I feel like the white lion."
	"Tell me about the white lion."
	"In my vision quest, there was a lioness white as snow.  She came 
to the dead world and told me that we must create life."
	"And did you?"
	"What a thought!"  He smiled.  "Of course not!  A white lion came 
over the hill.  They nuzzled and went into a cave together."
	"Oooh, that sounds romantic."
	"Just wait till you hear this: there was a great light--a living 
light--and soon the dead world was filled with life.  Then Busara came."
	"You saw my father?"
	"Yes.  He said to me, `We all have a great light inside us, just 
waiting for love to release it.'"
	With the back of her hand, she stroked Metutu's cheek and under 
his chin.  "The wait is over.  Let me release your light."
	"Asumini," he whispered, looking at her face.  "I don't have the 
right to ask you.  My path is long and stony.  It would lead you far 
from friends, far from the jungle shade.  It would lead you to hard work 
and long hours."
	She took his hand and gave it a squeeze.  "Don't be afraid.  I 
will go where you go, and I will make the light in you shine, and you 
will bring life into the world."
	Metutu said, "If I died and if you breathed on me, I would live 
again."  He took her other hand.  "We must see the priest.  If you would 
come with me, I would give you my very soul.  But if you left me, I 
would lose it.  You must love me forever, or not at all."
	"It will be forever, Metutu.  We will live forever in love."
	At the sound of that phrase, he gasped.  "Live, friend," he said, 
kissing her.  "Live forever in love."
	A mild breeze stirred them as they stood with their arms around 
each other, so much in love.  They did not notice the alluring scent of 
wild honey, nor did they know that Busara cradled Neema gently in his 
arms and kissed her on the brow.  "Just look at them.  Our children 
getting married!  Where has the time gone?"
	Later that evening they went to the priest.  Metutu looked into 
Asumini's eyes and smiled, for her eyes were glowing.  "Metutu," she 
whispered, "Your eyes are glowing."  The priest bound their hands 
together with a vine.  "One blood, one love, one family," he intoned.  
"Look well, o gods."



CHAPTER 27:  IN THE LIONS' DEN

	Makedde's call of "Aiheu abamami!" was the first sign that the 
three mandrills had reached the Pride lands.  "Aiheu abamami!" he 
repeated loudly.  It was evening, and a very dangerous time to be small 
and walking about.
	Metutu was a little afraid, but Asumini had a look on her face of 
expectant joy.  These were the lands of her namesake's grandson, the 
Lion King Ahadi.  Ahadi's father had once peeked shyly at her from the 
forest rim when Queen Asumini came proudly into Busara's cave.  He was a 
young cub, still small enough to be afraid of the strange monkeys with 
the striped faces.  Asumini, a child herself, tried to pet Prince Zari, 
but for her trouble got a few minor scratches and a frantic game of hide 
and seek.  Now she secretly hoped to satisfy her desires on Zari's great 
son.  Now it would be her turn to be afraid!
	"Aiheu abamami!" Makedde called again.
	"Aiheu abamami!" A lioness called.  "Who's there?"
	"Makedde and two friends to see the King."
	Yolanda's pleasant face burst through the grass.  "My old friend!"  
She nuzzled Makedde, who took her large head in his arms and kissed her.
	"Teacher, you do my heart good!" he said.  "How goes the King?"
	"Well--thank the gods--and you?"
	"I'm back."
	"I can see that."
	"No, I mean I'm back where my heart lives.  I'm BACK, Yolanda."
	She smiled broadly.  "I prayed they would send you!  How long this 
time?"
	"Until I'm too old to dream."
	"And your friends here?"
	"I'm Asumini," the doe answered.  "And this is my husband Metutu."
	"Asumini," Yolanda said thoughtfully.  "THE Asumini?"
	"I suppose.  Busara was my father."
	"Now THERE is a name that is known in these parts!  How is he?"
	Asumini looked down.  "Dead this moon," she said.
	"Oh Honey Tree, I'm so sorry!  You and your friends must see the 
King.  He will be glad to see you."
	Metutu looked at Asumini and smiled sheepishly.  "I will go down 
in history--as Asumini's husband."
	She smiled naughtily.  "When I get you alone, you'll know why."
	Makedde nudged Metutu with his elbow.  "You walked right into that 
one!"
	With Yolanda leading the way, they headed toward a tall finger in 
the moonlit sea of grass.  Pride Rock was exciting just to look at.  It 
seemed to have a life of its own, watching the savanna with a lordly 
detachment in rain or drought, sun or moon.  As they headed toward the 
stone sentinel, it seemed to grow larger and more powerful, until even 
Yolanda seemed small.
	A winding trail led up the side of the main hill toward a jutting 
stone promontory.  Yolanda and the young mandrills were able to take it 
in stride.  Makedde was a little winded, but his excitement began to 
mount as the promontory came closer.  For at the base of the promontory 
was a cave, and in the cave, Ahadi.
	"Guests for the King!" Yolanda sang out cheerfully.  A regal face 
peered out of the cave, ivory in the spell of moonlight.  "Can that be 
my old friend Makedde?"
	"Indeed!" Makedde shouted, hurrying the last few steps.  "Too long 
has it been!"  He plunged his arms into the soft mane and stroked the 
strong shoulders.  Ahadi nuzzled him.  Then Akase came and stood beside 
her husband.
	"Look at the old graybeard!"  She kissed him, and she was hugged 
in turn.
	Asumini watched with barely suppressed excitement.  "Aren't they 
beautiful!  Look at them, Metutu!  Look!"
	Ahadi overheard her.  "Come, friends!  Don't be frightened."
	Asumini headed for him as one possessed.  With a smile of 
conquering joy that overpowered her fear, she did as her brother in law 
had done, burying her arms in Ahadi's mane and kissing him around the 
face.  "You beautiful creature!  Aiheu has touched you with beauty!"
	"Dear daughter," he said, touching her with his tongue.
	Metutu was also excited, but he was more reserved.  Falling at 
Ahadi's feet, he exclaimed, "I touch your mane!"
	"Rise, friend.  I feel it."
	Metutu stood before the great king.  He wanted so badly to make a 
good impression.
	"Sire, I have brought some gifts.  One of my herbs will get rid of 
ticks and fleas!"  
	"Really?"  
	"Sure!"
	Metutu held up a handful of something that Ahadi sniffed.  "Gods, 
that should get rid of ticks and fleas all right.  Pesky cubs, female 
companions, you name it."  
	"Well, it does have a slight odor."  
	"A slight odor??"  Ahadi laughed.  "Put that on a fresh carcass, 
and a starving hyena wouldn't eat it!"  
	Metutu looked down.  "Oh, I'm sorry to waste your time."
	Ahadi nuzzled him.  "Buck up, Metutu.  If you want to get rid of 
ticks, perhaps you might groom me sometime?"
	"Oh Sire, may I??"
	"By all means."  Ahadi looked deeply into Metutu's eyes, and the 
mandrill looked down, embarrassed.  "You're rather shy, I've noticed."
	"Oh?  Well I may be a little shy, but I also show respect.  You're 
a King and I'm not."
	Ahadi laughed.  "You're a monkey and I'm not.  Now that we know 
who we are, let's be friends.  Asumini set a good example."
	Cautiously, shyly, Metutu stalked over to the lion.  Unsure how to 
go about this, he came straight into Ahadi's face, then backed back.  He 
laughed nervously.  "Oh yes."  He timidly reached around from the side 
and buried his face in the long, flowing mane.
	"Oh, it is so wonderful!"  The soft, flowing tresses caressed him 
and surrounded him.  He stroked Ahadi and almost without thinking said, 
"You beautiful thing!  You feel like a king!  Oh!"
	Eventually, Metutu stood back, realizing how he was going on.  
Before he could recover his composure, Akase motioned for him to come.  
She had no mane, but he felt the warm softness of her strong neck, and 
it was reassuring.
	"And to think I almost missed this just to be chief!"
	Suddenly, a string of lionesses entered.  Cubs appeared from 
nowhere and began to mob them.  Ajenti rubbed against Yolanda and 
purred.  "What'cha got, Mom??  What'cha got??"
	"Nothing, fuzzy love.  But it won't be much longer."
	Uzuri came to Ahadi.  "My lord, no luck tonight.  Still, there 
were no shameful deeds."
	He nuzzled her.  "Even so."
	"I touch your mane."
	"I feel it."
	Uzuri had kept her calm, cool disposition, but one of the young 
females was rather unhappy.  It was her chance to become a lioness--to 
make her first kill.  She had missed.  Makedde whispered to Metutu the 
significance of that failure.  
	"She is still a cub in the eyes of the pride."  He added, "Why 
don't you talk with Uzuri, the hunt mistress?  She could use some 
cheering up."
	"What's a hunt mistress?"
	"She leads the hunt.  The others obey her commands, for only 
through cooperation can they hope to succeed."
	"Oh.  So she's like a queen?"
	"On the hunt she is.  Here she's one of the Pride Sisters."
	Metutu was not used to judging lionesses.  But Uzuri seemed rather 
young to him to be entrusted with such a job.  He nervously went to her 
to introduce himself.  She didn't look ready to be cheered up or even 
meet someone.
	"Excuse me?"  Metutu looked at her carefully.  "I'm Metutu."
	"Uzuri," she said.
	"I hear you're hunt mistrees."
	"Yes."
	Metutu crossed his feet nervously and began to squirm a little.  
"I may be wrong, but you seem awfully young to be hunt mistress."
	"Thanks."
	"You must be very good at it."
	"Thank you-uh--Metutu was it?"
	"Yes ma'am."
	"Are those stripes real?  I mean, do you paint your face, or is 
that natural?"
	"Natural," he said.  "Females have a little color, but not this 
much."
	"Oh.  That's very interesting."
	She laid down and began to groom her forearms.  In almost a state 
of shock, Metutu went over to Makedde.  "The lionesses will be gossiping 
about our affair for many moons."
	Makedde smiled indulgently.  "For a first contact, that was 
practically a torrid affair.  I mean, she even asked you a question!"
	"The quiet type, eh?"
	"She's had a bad hunt.  Besides, she does not warm up quickly to 
strangers.  She's just like that, so give her time."
	Metutu nodded.  "I think she's like a melon.  Dull color on the 
outside, but bright and fragrant on the inside.  Look in her eyes.  
There is so much going on that she does not let show."
	"Your perceptiveness will serve you well.  She is anything but 
cold, but Uzuri does not expose her feelings to just anyone.  Maybe 
someday you'll find out.  Her love is like a beetle that hides under a 
large rock.  You don't see it until you lift the stone, then it comes 
rushing out."
	"You sound like you have experience."
	Makedde took him to Yolanda, who was much more transparent.  The 
moment she saw Metutu coming, she blossomed into a warm smile.  "Who's 
your friend?"
	"This is Metutu.  He's been wanting to meet you all evening."
	Metutu broke into an embarassed smile.  "What a pretty cub!  Do 
you mind if I touch him?"
	"Her.  Ajenti."  Yolanda thought a moment.  "Sure, why not.  Be 
sure you support her under the head and back.  You don't look like the 
neck-carry type."
	Metutu picked up little Ajenti and hugged her up to his chest.  
"Oh gods, such a precious thing!  She will grow in beauty like her 
mother.  Isn't she beautiful, Asumini?"
	Yolanda purred.  When he reluctantly put down the small bundle, 
Yolanda touched his hand with her warm tongue.  "Welcome to the Pride 
Lands."
	Asumini smiled.  "Our child will also be beautiful, like its 
father."
	"I feel beautiful when I'm with you," Metutu said, stroking her 
cheek softly.  "You are beautiful enough for both of us.  And I 
think....oh my, the hour grows late!"
	She looked out at the moon.  "Yes, dear.  We don't want to wear 
out our welcome."
	Yolanda smiled coyly.  "If you two want to see some great scenery, 
there is a nice path to the cistern behind Pride Rock.  It's a quiet 
place where you can talk undisturbed."
	Metutu took Asumini by the hand and bidding farewell to his hosts, 
he led Asumini away to spend their wedding night under the silvery 
stars.  There, far from the prying eyes of night, their light went out 
into the world.



CHAPTER 28:  SLOW WORK

	Life in the baobab was not always easy.  Asumini adapted with a 
cheerful attitude.  Complaining did not make the work any easier, and it 
only lowered morale.  So while she worked hard, she refused to complain.
	Still, Metutu saw her one day working hard in the hot sun to 
gather herbs for him.  He stood over her as she grubbed in the dirt with 
her stick.
	"Get up, you."
	She stood, a bit woozy in the heat.  He put his arms around her 
and kissed her.  "You come inside.  You know that Jasmine does not do 
well in bright sunlight.  I'll take over."
	He knelt and with the stick began to work up some roots.  The sun 
was powerfully hot, and there was not much water left in the gourd.  
After only a few minutes, he was sweating profusely.  "What have I 
pulled her into?  She must really love me."
	Occasionally someone would stop by the baobab.  A cub with the 
colic, a lioness with a thorn in her leg.  Even Ahadi came by to ask 
Metutu to pull ticks.  It was a lot more enjoyable to have someone to 
talk to, and he enjoyed spending time with his new friends getting to 
know them better.  Where Asumini would shamelessly hug his mane and kiss 
Ahadi, Metutu used the excuse of grooming him to fondle him and enjoy 
his company.  Ahadi seemed to understand this, and he would make a habit 
of coming by frequently.  Sometimes Ahadi would note the poor condition 
of Metutu's fur and groom him as well.  It became an outlet for their 
deep mutual affection.
	That evening, Uzuri came in from the hunt flush with victory.  
Metutu sought to ride that wave of good feeling and went directly to 
her.  "So you brought down your prey?"
	"It was a team effort," Uzuri said, noting a red spot of gazelle 
blood on Yolanda and grooming it away with her pink tongue.
	"I bet you feel like the mighty huntress tonight!"
	An eye looked away from the grooming.  "Guess so."
	"Feels good, doesn't it?"
	"Guess so."
	"Well, tell me about it.  That is, if you don't mind."
	Her answer came in short bursts, punctuated with licks to Yolanda.  
"Not much to tell.  Old gazelle female.  Pincers maneuver.  No big 
deal."
	Uzuri was looking keenly at Yolanda, continuing her grooming 
though the blood had disappeared.  He took the hint and walked away to 
nurse his hurt feelings.  He really liked Uzuri, but he got nowhere in a 
hurry, and felt he probably never would.
	While Yolanda was getting all the affection she could handle, 
Metutu contented himself playing with Ajenti.  The cub was strong and 
had sharp claws.  He had to practice great restraint and caution to keep 
his hide intact and still show her a good time.  Finally he took her 
paws in his hand and pushed her claws back enough that she got the 
message.  "Your Uncle Metutu is fragile.  You have to retract those 
claws."
	When Metutu was alone with Makedde, he got the lecture he'd been 
expecting.  "Give her time, brother.  Her love is like a beautiful 
flower.  First comes the sprout, then the bud, and then one day it opens 
and it's beauty takes your breath away."
	"Why are some people like that, Makedde?  Why don't they just say 
what they feel?"
	"When you say what you feel, you can never take it back.  Remember 
when you came back from Busara's cave and you were so excited you wanted 
to tell the whole world?  And mother thought you were in love!"
	"Did father tell you about that?"
	"He sure did.  Cuddling with a dead lion and everything!"  Makedde 
laughed.  "You are still young.  You want everything now.  But the 
reason Aiheu gave us a lifetime is because it takes a whole lifetime 
just to live!"
	"But think of the time we waste?  Uzuri could have been friends.  
I really like her.  You think everyone will live forever, and things 
will never change.  Then one day your mother starts beating her head on 
a branch."  His eyes misted up.  "Then she's gone.  I think you should 
tell people how you feel, and live for the day."
	Makedde smiled indulgently.  "Brother, no one ever really dies.  
Really.  When you love someone the way I love you, death is inconvenient 
and painful, but it cannot break the bond between us."
	Metutu bit his lip, then put his arms around Makedde.  "You always 
knew the right thing to say."
	Two days later, Uzuri came back from the hunt with a cut.  She 
went to Makedde and asked him for help.
	Makedde thought a moment, then said, "I have a number of things to 
do this evening.  But Metutu will be glad to help you."
	Metutu got some disinfectant and pain killers to patch the small 
wound.  Then he used Dwe'dwe resin to seal the edges of the cut 
together.
	"It will leave a scar," she said morosely.  "It's my first.  I 
thought I was better than that, but I made a stupid mistake.  Stupid, 
stupid, stupid!"
	"I wouldn't worry about that," Metutu said.  He mixed some Dahlia 
rubidium with a few drops of her own saliva.  "This will prevent 
scarring if you have discipline enough not to lick it off."
	"Really?"
	"It works miracles, especially on furry regions of the body."  He 
put some on the cut and began to rub it in lightly.  "We rub it in, then 
restore circulation in the skin around it."
	She patiently endured the rubdown, especially when it did not 
cause discomfort.  Finding it pleasurable, she let him stroke her whole 
shoulder.  Before long, he began to get venturesome soon he was stroking 
her gently, looking at nothing in particular.  She sits silently, her 
eyes half closed.  Eventually she starts to purr.  He half smiles.  "The 
other shoulder could use a little work," she said dreamily.  He was 
embarrassed, but complied.
	"No, up a little.  Oh yes."  She sighs contentedly.  After a 
moment of such bliss, she said, "Goodness, I have to see Yolanda!"  She 
got up, stretched, and started out the door.  She paused for a moment 
and looked back at Metutu with a smile.
	"If you have more problems, don't hesitate to come back.  Please."
	"Thank you," she says.  She had started down the side of Pride 
Rock when she stopped again.  Uzuri called after him, "Do your people 
have any star lore?"
	"Yes we do.  I love watching the constellations."
	"Remind me sometime and we'll trace the night sky together."
	After she left, Metutu looked back at Makedde.  "Brother, I think 
I have a friend."
	Makedde nodded.  "Just don't push it.  You're doing fine if you 
just let Nature take its course."
	"Indeed, brother.  You have ground that same bit of Campa shoot 
five times over."
	"It needs to be fine."
	"I wouldn't say it NEEDS it."  Metutu smiled and put his arm 
around Makedde's shoulder.  "Still I guess it can't hurt."


CHAPTER 29:  INVITATION TO THE DANCE

	Akase had come into her season.  She knew after her last 
miscarriage that she might not survive another pregnancy.  Ahadi was 
very demonstrative to her, even in public.  But he knew that she could 
die during a pregnancy, and so his need for intimacy was not expressed 
in the usual way.  Instead he looked for ways to enjoy closeness with 
her but not give in to his strong desires.
	He soothed his need for her presence by lying his great mane down 
and letting her fall asleep resting on his side.  He would kiss her, but 
always chastely.  And he would tell her he loved her for who she was, 
and always would.  That just being with her was the great joy of his 
life.
	In this, Akase was little help.  She was firmly in the grip of her 
natural inclinations.  Her thoughts drifted back to all the blissful 
moments she had spent with her husband, and to the hopes and dreams they 
shared.  Now they had no cubs.  And worse, she was not even allowed to 
try!
	"Husband," she whispered.  "Lover, come to me."
	"Call me husband, but do not call me lover."  Ahadi looked down, 
ashamed.  "You are putting thoughts in my head."
	"Someone needs to."
	"We've been through this before.  After your miscarriage, I 
thought we BOTH agreed that our marriage could last, but that we would 
be strong and face this thing rationally."
	"What you want isn't a wife but a sister!  If I must live as a 
sister, and never feel you close to me, I'd rather be dead!"
	"Wife!"
	"Lover!"  She repeated it to make the point stick.  "Lover, lover!  
That's what I am--that's what you married!"
	"Don't do this to me!  I'm showing my love the best way I know 
how!"
	"When I see you, I want you.  But you say I could never have you, 
and you could never have me.  Have you declared our marriage null and 
void?"
	"No!  I love you--God knows I do!  I don't want anything to happen 
to you!"
	"But it is happening.  Can't you tell?  This is not natural."  She 
rubbed him full length.  "I may not become pregnant.  It is always a 
risk, but one that I'm willing to take."
	"But darling!"
	She nuzzled him, kissing him gently and passionately.  "Make love 
to me, I beg you!  Make love to me!"
	"Oh gods!"
	"Make love to me, husband.  Lover, I know you want me.  Let me 
hear you cry out my name in ecstasy!"
	He looked in agony.  He was.  "Oh gods, I can't endure this!  
Can't you help me just a little??  Aiheu, help me!"
	She nuzzled him.  "Can't he help ME just a little?  I don't want a 
miracle--I just want you."
	"For you, anything.  But I feel guilty that it should please me 
too!  I have no right to any pleasure that puts you in danger.  If you 
died, my cries of passion would come back to haunt me like a curse!  I 
would have to live with that for the rest of my life!"
	"Never let that make you feel unclean!  Never!  Don't you know 
that our pleasure is rooted in love?  Love that will outlive these 
mortal bodies.  Love that will make beautiful all that it touches!  Love 
that will one day reunite us in the heavens!  Come to me freely, because 
you love me!"  She rubbed her face along his cheek.  "I want to make you 
happy.  I want to make you deliriously happy.  I want to feel you 
shudder once more like a thunderbolt."
	"Oh gods!"  He began to kiss her passionately.  "I'm on fire!"
	She walked a few paces in front of him and knelt down.  Looking 
over her shoulder, she peered deeply his eyes and her jaw quivered.
	He stalked toward her lithe, golden body, awash with the raging 
fever of his passion.  "Lover, I come!"



CHAPTER 30:  CRAFTING THE TOTEM

	Metutu had studied long and hard.  The gods had blessed him with 
wisdom and the strength to use it, and he used those blessings well for 
one whose heart was filled with so many distractions.  Indeed, there 
were times he wanted to be with Asumini, but had to sit through lectures 
on star lore and wade through the savanna grass to learn the different 
herbs and their uses.  Patiently Asumini would wait for him to return.  
She remembered her father well, and how he put his service before his 
comfort.  Metutu was a lot like him, and it felt comfortably familiar.  
Also, like Busara, Metutu would use the time he was with her to its best 
advantage.  Feeling guilty, Metutu would forgo rest when he was tired, 
and rush through meals.  The precious minutes he saved were spent 
holding her hand, brushing her hair, talking about whatever was on their 
mind, and of course there were also times when he would take her hand 
and lead her away with him.  Makedde would smile and try not to notice 
that some chores were being neglected.  Makedde was married to his work, 
but he understood that Metutu was not.
	One day, Makedde questioned Metutu at length about treating wounds 
and setting broken bones.  He tried very hard to find some weakness in 
his knowledge, wondering where to concentrate his training.  He found no 
weakness at all, and anxious to help Metutu settle down with his new 
wife, offered to take him to the council.
	That evening, a nervous Metutu was ushered into the circle and 
presented to his brother Makoko.  This was no time for casual greetings, 
and Metutu did not speak unless spoken to.
	Some of the elders were leery.  Dedou asked, "How could such an 
admittedly bright young buck know all that a shaman needs, and bear the 
weight of that much responsibility?  Is it not the optimism of youth 
here rather than the considered opinion of his esteemed sponsor?"
	Makoko looked at Metutu.  "Well, candidate?  Answer him."
	Metutu glances around at the other faces, then looks right at 
Dedou.  "My love for the King is the light of my world.  His people are 
my joy, and his welfare is my abiding concern.  Even if you forbade me, 
I should humble myself in the dust before him and offer my hands to his 
service.  The wonder of one acacia leaf is so deep and rich that I could 
never learn it all.  Who can hope then to understand God's world?  And 
if we must concede that no shaman could possibly know everything, we 
must ask how much knowledge is enough to comfort those who suffer?  I 
tell you brothers that I am an expert on suffering, for I have suffered 
greatly.  It was suffering that put me on this path.  But I also 
understand love, for I have received much of it, and it is love that 
keeps me on this path.  Without the path, my life has no meaning.  That, 
my esteemed Dedou, is my answer."
	"I withdraw my objection," Dedou said.
	Makoko stood up, deeply moved, and waived the age requirement, 
allowing Metutu to be admitted into the Council.  The high priest gave 
him a large rock to hold.  "This is the burden which you willingly 
accept, for with knowledge comes the weight of responsibility."
	Makedde took the rock from Metutu.  "Love is the gift of God.  It 
inspires your friends to share your burden, when their love is genuine.  
So I admonish you to love others all the days that God gives you in this 
land."
	They made Metutu a clay totem and consecrated it according to the 
law.  And they taught him the words of passage into the circle, "Daima 
pendana" which means, "Love one another."
	Makoko embraced him.  "I'm so proud of you, brother.  My love 
flows like the spring rains!"
	Standing with the uninitiated outside the circle, Kinara watches 
as tears of joy run down his face.

CHAPTER 31:  THE KING AND I

	Metutu and Asumini were both helping Makedde, who was getting 
older, in his daily tasks.  Metutu had become a well-liked member of the 
leonine community, and had virtually all but assumed his brother's 
duties as healer, leaving Makedde free to concentrate on the mystical 
arts.
	Metutu slowly finished massaging the last of the paste into the 
cut on Avina's shoulder.  "There now," he said, leaning back to study 
his work with a satisfied air, "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
	Avina flexed the foreleg gingerly, then smiled as she put her full 
weight on it.  "Beautiful!  How did you do it?"
	"Easy, my dear!  The pain is still there; you just cannot feel it 
right now.  You must go home and rest."
	"Ah," she flipped a forepaw at him.  "I've hunted in worse shape 
before, and alone besides."
	"I'm well aware of that, my dear.  But just because you can do it 
doesn't mean you have to.  That hoof almost tore the muscle away.  If 
someone else had been there, you wouldn't have had to limp all the way 
back here yourself to get me."  He strode forward, clearly distressed.  
"Please, Avina, go home and take it easy for a while.  Humor a foolish 
old ape just this once."
	"You are not foolish, Tootles."  She grinned at him, knowing how 
much the nickname embarrassed him.  Purring, she rubbed her cheek 
against his.  "All right.  If it will make you feel better."
	He smiled at her.  "Absolutely."  He patted her unwounded shoulder 
gently and bade her good-bye.  He knelt to pick up his bowl he used as a 
pestle and grimaced as his knees popped stiffly.  A shadow fell over 
him, and he looked up to see Makedde standing beside him, frowning.
	"Brother?  What is wrong?"
	Makedde shook his head in admonition.  "Using crushed Bonewort 
like that is not exactly what I would have done, Metutu.  You would have 
done better to give her something else."
	"Really?  And what would an old monkey like you know about 
medicine?"
	Makedde grinned and grabbed Metutu's ears playfully, shaking his 
head.  "You impudent whelp!  I dare say you're going to be the best 
shaman the Pride Lands have ever seen."
	"You really think so?"  Metutu frowned and looked out over the 
savanna broodingly.  "I don't know if I really quite fit in, here."
	"What's the matter?  Don't you like it here?"
	"Of course!  I'm not talking about that."  Metutu waved his hand 
dismissingly.  "I mean, I just don't know how everyone will like me 
taking your place; you've been here so long.  Besides, the Council has 
to approve the appointment, anyway."
	Makedde spat.  "Who cares what the Council thinks!  The King is 
going to make that decision.  Don't believe everything the Council tells 
you, Metutu; Ahadi's word carries tremendous weight, however much they 
might not wish to admit it.  And he's been watching you carefully, 
brother.  Believe it."
	"Very carefully?"  Metutu moaned.  "What if I make a mistake?"
	Makedde looked solemn.  "Well, in that case, he'll probably just 
eat you."
	"What??"  Metutu looked at him in alarm, until he saw Makedde 
struggling not to laugh.  "You dirty...."
	A harsh yell broke in from outside, jarring them both.  "HELP!"  
Startled, they hurried over to an overhanging limb and looked down.  
Peering through the leaves, Metutu saw Yolanda sprinting hurriedly 
toward the baobab.
	The two descended quickly and met her at the bottom.  "Easy, my 
dear," Makedde said calmly.  "What is it?"
	"Please come quickly!"  She panted rapidly.  "Oh Gods, come quick!  
Akase is in trouble!"
	"What's wrong?"
	"She was complaining about her stomach hurting this morning when I 
left to go hunting.  When I got back, I found her lying on the ground, 
moaning.  She's bleeding, too."
	"Did she cut herself?"
	"No, it's from inside!  I don't know what to do!"  Yolanda's voice 
cracked and she bit her lip.  "You must save her!"
	Makedde and Metutu exchanged a look.  Without a word, Metutu 
headed for the baobab.  Seizing his staff, Makedde followed the lioness 
as she made off across the savanna.  Metutu clambered up the trunk 
frenziedly and hurried over to the niche where the two stored their 
medicines.  Quickly snatching up a few cure-alls and some painkiller, he 
descended the baobab.
	A few minutes later, he caught up with Makedde.  Yolanda had 
checked her pace, mindful of Makedde's advanced age, but the delay 
obviously gnawed at her.   Metutu drew alongside of his brother, panting 
with the exertion.  "I brought the cure-all and a little Alba as well, 
along with..."
	Makedde glanced at the pharmacopoeia and nodded curtly.  "No need, 
brother; I'm sure you brought the right things."  His face was wan with 
concern.  "What worries me is that we may not have the right medicine 
here at all."
	"What's wrong with her?"  Metutu asked, knowing already.
	"It is what we feared.  Her body is rejecting the cubs."
	"Oh gods!"  Metutu looked away for a moment.  "Can we do 
anything?"
	Makedde sighed.  "I wish I knew.  I only hope it is something 
else, but I doubt it.  The signs are clear enough."
	The three continued on in silence until they reached the foot of 
Pride Rock, where they were met by Ahadi.  The two mandrills bowed 
before the massive lion.  "I touch your mane," Makedde said reverently.
	"I feel it."  Ahadi blew out a great gust of air.  "Aiheu bless 
you for coming, Makedde.  It's a long journey, and I know you are not 
young anymore."
	Makedde said, "My brother came with me.  Together we can beat this 
thing, eh?"  He reached out and patted Ahadi's shoulder.
	The lion's eyes closed and he slumped visibly.  Unwilling to trust 
his voice, he merely nodded.
	Yolanda padded over to them quickly.  "This way, Makedde."  As 
they followed her away, Metutu glanced back over his shoulder at Ahadi, 
then immediately regretted it.  He faced forward again, ashamed at the 
sight of the great king crying like a child.
	Akase lay on the floor of the cave, trying to stifle a moan and 
failing.  She shuddered as another wave of pain rippled through her 
abdomen, her midsection feeling as though it was being seized in the 
hands of a giant and being slowly twisted in two.  "Oh God, please help 
me," she groaned.  "Please."  A warm tongue bathed the side of her face 
as if in answer.  Blinking blearily, she opened an eye to see Yolanda 
standing over her.  "How's it feeling, hon?"
	Akase moaned again.  "Not much better."
	"Don't worry.  Makedde and Metutu are here to see you."
	Her eye opened wide.  "Praise Aiheu!  Bring them in!"
	"I already did."  Yolanda's worried visage was replaced by 
Makedde's worn and kindly one.  "And how are you today, my dear?"
	"Lousy."
	"I see."  He chuckled lightly, trying to put her at ease.  
Grunting with the exertion, he knelt slowly, laying his staff beside 
him.  Bending over her, he stroked her cheek with his hand.  "Rest easy, 
Akase.  All will be put right soon enough."  His smile faded away.  
"Courage, now."
	She nodded, closing her eyes.  She began breathing rapidly as 
Makedde began to run his sensitive hands gingerly down her ribs slowing 
as he neared her belly.  She growled involuntarily as he drew his hand 
across her abdomen.  Makedde was shocked; the flesh was burning hot to 
the touch and enormously swollen, more so than her state of pregnancy 
could account for.  As he reached her navel, she cried aloud and he 
jerked away, startled.  "Forgive me, Akase.  I do not mean to cause you 
pain."
	"I.....know, old friend," she gasped.
	Metutu was equally disturbed; Akase's flanks were matted with 
blood; enough that the lioness was dangerously weak.  He looked up at 
Makedde and shrugged helplessly.
	The mandrill nodded and turned back to Akase.  Selecting a couple 
of herbs, he tapped her on the nose gently.  "Now see here.  I want you 
to leave these under your tongue.  They are bitter, but they'll make you 
feel a little better.  Okay?"
	She nodded, opening her mouth.  Makedde slipped the herbs in place 
carefully, his dexterous fingers avoiding the enormous fangs easily.  
Rising, he patted her cheek.  "You rest easy now, while Metutu and I go 
talk."  Motioning to his brother, the old mandrill led him outside.
	Blinking in the bright sunlight, they nearly collided with Avina.  
The lioness sat in the entrance, staring into the depths of the cave 
miserably.  "It's my fault, isn't it?"
	"What?"
	"If I hadn't gone and gotten hurt, she wouldn't have been worried 
sick about me this morning.  That's what did it, isn't it?"
	"Nonsense."  Makedde patted her consolingly.  "You might as well 
blame yourself for the dry season, or making the wind shift while you're 
stalking.  You had nothing to do with this, Avina, it just happened."
	"Will she be okay?"
	Makedde sighed.  "I just don't know right now."  Excusing himself, 
he drew Metutu away.  The younger mandrill strained to hear his 
brother's voice.
	"It will be all I can do to keep her comfortable until the 
inevitable happens.  She will lose the children."
	Metutu shook his head violently.  "No!  There must be something-"
	"Hsst!  Keep your voice down!"  Makedde looked at him sadly.  
"Brother, as yet I have been unable to find a cure for her.  For years I 
have searched.  After they lost their first litter, Ahadi and Akase 
waited patiently while I searched, but at last I admitted defeat.  And I 
cannot blame them for trying; the drive of life is strong.  Who knew it 
would happen again?"  He covered his eyes with a trembling hand.  "And 
this time, it's worse."
	"How so?"
	"Akase has lost too much blood already, and she has begun to run a 
fever.  She will probably not survive."
	A deeper voice spoke from behind them.  "Then it is as I feared."
	The two spun to see Ahadi standing a few feet away.  "Sire," 
Makedde stammered, flustered.  "I simply meant...."
	Ahadi raised a paw to silence him.  "It has been a long time since 
we have had to mince words, you and I.  Let us not start now."  He 
sighed deeply, shuddering, and a single tear slowly tracked down from 
his eye to darken the fur on his cheek.  "I have sat here and watched as 
she grew weaker and weaker.  Even as you looked upon her she was 
slipping away."  Ahadi cleared his throat.  "All I would...."  He 
stopped, momentarily, then continued.  "All I would ask of you is that 
you make her last hours peaceful ones.  Will you do this for her?"
	Makedde swallowed and nodded slowly.  "Everything will be done.  
Come, my lord, let us go to her."
	Picking up the painkillers from Metutu's crude satchel, Makedde 
motioned to his brother to wait there.  Turning, he followed Ahadi as 
they paced slowly away.
	Entering the cool dimness of the cave, Makedde made his way slowly 
over to Akase, Ahadi alongside.  The king followed unwillingly, each 
step heavier than the last, until he felt he would sink through the rock 
floor.  Bending down, he nuzzled his mate.  "Akase?"
	"Hmm?"  The lioness opened her eyes and looked at them.  "Cnn I 
shpt vese out?"
	"Oh!"  Makedde nodded.  "Certainly."  He cupped a hand under her 
jaw as she daintily spat the leaves into his palm.  "Feeling better?"
	She nodded.  "A little.  It doesn't hurt as bad, but it still 
hurts.  Thank you for trying, though."  She fixed the mandrill with an 
uncomfortable gaze.  "What were you two whispering about out there?"
	Lion and mandrill looked at each other uncomfortably.  "My lady, 
I'm not quite sure how to say this..."
	Akase chuckled softly, wincing at the effort.  "Oh, Makedde.  I 
know that my life grows short.  I shall see Aiheu's face soon enough, no 
doubt."  She looked back along her side wistfully.  "I only wish I could 
have spent some time with my children..."  Her eyes glistened as she 
shook her head.
	"Oh gods!"  Ahadi bent low and laid his head alongside hers, 
weeping openly now, uncaring.  "Beloved, I'm so sorry.  It's my fault.  
I never should have touched you."
	Akase lifted her head to look at him.  "Nonsense.  How can you say 
that?  In the time I've spent with you, I've known the love of a dozen 
glorious lifetimes."  A tear tracked down her cheek.  "I just wish I 
could have borne this one litter.  I wanted to give you a son, my love.  
Oh, Ahadi, if anyone is to blame here, it's me.  You should have married 
another."  She bent and hid her face from him, shuddering.  "When I am 
gone, that is what you must do.  I will look down on you and bless your 
union."
	The lion reached out with his paw and stroked her face tenderly.  
"Now look who's talking nonsense.  There could never have been another.  
I could have lived without a son.  But you I cannot live without."  He 
blinked back tears.  "If I could have but one wish from Aiheu, it would 
be that we both go together."
	"Ahadi..."  Akase nuzzled him and kissed his cheek.  "You are too 
young to die just yet."
	"So are you."
	"Well, then, we need prayers, not tears."  She lay back down 
again, stroking his face with her forepaw.  "Go on, love.  I'll be all 
right for a little while longer."
	Ahadi glanced at Makedde, who nodded silently.  "Very well.  Rest 
easy, beloved."  Kissing her cheek, he followed the mandrill out of the 
cave.
	Metutu watched as the two of them emerged quietly and walked a 
short distance away, muttering softly.  Embarrassed, he realized the two 
were deep in their prayers and turned away hurriedly.  He moved away 
until he was out of earshot and sat down, taking a deep breath of air 
and letting it out slowly.  The late afternoon breeze blew his hair 
gently about his neck and shoulders, cooling, but not comforting him.  
He picked up his mortar stick and idly began to trace aimless circles in 
the dirt as he looked out across the savanna, seeing in the distance his 
beautiful baobab home.  Glancing down, he stared silently at what his 
roaming hands had unconsciously drawn in the dirt.  An inward drawing 
spiral with lines radiating from it.  He recognized it well; it was one 
of the first icons Busara had taught him in his apprenticeship; the 
maishamazingo, the great Circle of Life.
	The vein in the center of Metutu's forehead began to throb in time 
with his heartbeat.  Leaping to his feet, he seized the handful of sand 
and dirt and cast it away angrily, obliterating the icon.  "No!  It's 
not right!  It's not Akase's fault!  Why?"  Realizing the other 
lionesses were staring at him, he stalked away, making his way along a 
steep, winding path that led to a granite shelf that jutted out away 
from the Rock.  Sitting on his haunches, he clasped his knees to his 
chest.  Huddled up, he stared out at the open plain.  As his eyes roved 
about aimlessly, out of long habit he absently began identifying the 
various plants he saw and cataloging their various uses.
	Suddenly, he sat up straighter, and looked about with renewed 
interest.  Carefully noting the flora around, he wracked his brain, 
trying to think of some way he might be able to resolve Akase's 
predicament.  After several minutes thought, he slumped to the ground, 
shaking his head in despair.
	"Oh, Aiheu.  All the knowledge you have blessed me with, and yet I 
still do not know enough to save one lioness."  Metutu raised his head 
to look up at the sky beseechingly.  "I may yet be unworthy as a  
healer, but  I ask only this: help me to bring some joy into their 
lives.  Please."  He lowered his head to his chest, his eyes stinging 
with tears.  Abruptly, he heard the featherlight tread of leonine 
footsteps behind him and felt the weight of a furry chin resting lightly 
on his shoulder.
	Irritated at the intrusion, he spoke without turning.  "Avina, 
please leave me alone."
	"Hmpf.  That's some way to treat family.  I thought I taught you 
better than that."
	Metutu's eyes shot open wide and he whirled about.  Before him 
stood the form of a beautiful lioness whom he immediately recognized.  
"Asumini!"
	The lioness smiled, her eyes sparkling with amusement.  "No hug 
for your old Auntie?  Or are you getting too old for that?"
	In response, Metutu leaned forward and wrapped his arms around 
tightly, burying his face in the soft fur of her neck.  "Oh gods, I'm so 
depressed!  And how I've missed you!"
	"I know."  She smiled again, a faint silvery light playing about 
her form, like a ring of frost around the moon.  "But I heard you 
talking nonsense, so I had to come see you."
	"I am unworthy."  He sat back and looked at her morosely.  "Akase 
lies dying, and I can do nothing.  All the long hours I spent learning 
herb lore at Busara's side, and I've come up empty when I am most 
needed.  I am useless."  He turned away and looked at the ground.
	"Pfahh!  Have you not listened to one word I've said to you?  Use 
your head, you young twit!"  She batted him lightly with her tail.  
"There is great virtue in Maraliscus when mixed with Heartleaf."
	"What?!"  He snapped his head around to look at her, but saw only 
empty air.  He looked about, confused, while his mind began working 
furiously.
	"Maraliscus will kill by itself," he muttered.  "It suppresses 
breathing.  But the Heartleaf opens the lungs and...."  His eyes widened 
and he shouted with glee.  "Yes!  It stimulates breathing.  They balance 
each other out!  That just might do it!"  Snatching up his things, he 
took a step towards the path leading down to the ground, but stopped 
after a few strides.
	"But the nearest concentration of Maraliscus is half a moon's 
journey away."  He slumped to the ground.  "Oh gods!  To be so close!"  
He leaned back against the rock face, stretching his arms out for 
support.  His left hand closed over something soft and velvety, and he 
jerked it away involuntarily, looking down.
	Next to where he sat lay a neat clump of Maraliscus plants, 
carefully sitting upon a swatch of Heartleaf.
	Metutu closed his hands reverently over the priceless herbs and 
lifted them to his face, inhaling the faint scent of wild honey that 
clung to the plants.  Uttered a silent prayer to Aiheu, he struggled to 
his feet and carefully picked his way down the slope to the cave 
entrance, where he saw Makedde talking quietly to Yolanda.
	Without preamble, he simply showed Makedde the herbs and explained 
what he intended to try.
	"Absolutely not!  Metutu, I realize you are knowledgeable about 
herb lore, but this is not the time to experiment.  Akase is already 
very weak; any abrupt change could push her over the edge."
	"Brother.  Please, listen to me.  This is the only chance we have.  
I know I'm right."
	Makedde looked at him for a long moment, then nodded slowly.  
"Very well.  I shall tell Ahadi.  Whatever you intend to do, do it 
quickly;  Akase's time is very short."
	Metutu grabbed his things and hurried inside the cave, where Akase 
lay unmoving, bathed in a coating of sweat that matted her fur.  "My 
Lady?"
	Slowly, the queen opened her eyes to look at him.  "Metutu?"  she 
said muzzily, the painkiller blurring her voice.
	"Yes.  I have something here for you."  Filling one of his small 
bowls with water from a gourd, Metutu shredded a piece of Heartleaf into 
it.  As he picked up the Maraliscus, he realized with some alarm that he 
did not know just what the correct dosage might be.  He thought quickly 
for a moment, carefully gauging Akase's weight, along with the fact of 
her pregnancy thrown in.  Taking hold of a corner of the soft leaf, he 
closed his eyes.  "Aiheu, guide my hand."
	He tore a small piece off and ground it up carefully, adding it to 
the mixture in the bowl.  The concoction immediately turned an ugly 
greenish yellow color, and began to give off a strong acrid odor.
	He picked the mixture up and held it out to her gently.  "Here.  
You must drink this."
	She sniffed it warily and recoiled.  "Gods!  What is it?"
	"It may help you."
	"May?"  She looked at him peculiarly.  "Don't you know?"
	"No," he admitted.  "I don't."  He pulled the bowl back slowly.  
"It's not without risk, but it's the only thing I know that may save you 
and your cubs."
	Akase's eyes opened fully and she stared at him fixedly.  "The 
cubs also?  I could have my cubs?"
	"Possibly-"
	"Then let me have it."
	"My lady, what if-"
	"What if, indeed."  She smiled, and reached up with a paw to 
stroke his agonized face gently.  "Metutu, should I die, I will smile 
down on you from the stars above, for I will know that you did your best 
by me and my children."
	Metutu clasped her paw in his hands and nodded wordlessly.  Moving 
behind her, he lifted her head, grunting with the effort, until she 
could reach the bowl.  She sniffed again, wrinkling her nose with 
distaste, and looked him in the eyes.
	"Aiheu abamami," she whispered, and drank.
	Metutu emerged from the cave mouth a few minutes later and sat 
down wearily.  Makedde wandered over to him and sat next to him, holding 
his brother close as they fought the chill of the approaching night.  
"Well?"
	"We wait and see."  He looked about for the king, seeing him 
sitting some distance away at the point of the promontory with another 
lion.  "Have you told him?"
	"Yes."
	"What did he say?"
	"He said he trusted in you and Aiheu, and that was enough for 
him."
	Metutu looked at Ahadi, unable to speak.
	The king sat silently, watching the ebony blanket of night draw 
itself over his Pride Lands, the kings of the past taking their places 
in the vault of heaven one by one.  But tonight he could draw no comfort 
from their presence.  His thoughts lay inside the cave, with Akase.
	Shaka, his brother, lay next to him quietly.  "Ahadi?"
	"Hmm?"
	"You awake?"
	"Of course," he said, offended.
	Shaka's ears drooped.  "Sorry."
	Ahadi sighed and nuzzled his brother.  "No, I'm sorry.  I'm just 
nervous."
	Shaka said nothing, but moved a little closer to his brother, 
sharing the heat of their bodies.  Thus the four brothers comforted each 
other as they began the long wait for the dawn.
	In the depths of the cave, Akase lay quiescent as the medicine did 
its strange work within her.  Time had become meaningless, and so it was 
with some surprise that she opened her eyes to the gray light of dawn 
seeping into the cave.  Raising her head gingerly, she tried to sit up, 
but only made it halfway before collapsing back, panting heavily.  Gods 
she was tired!  Her stomach rumbled noisily, and she wondered if there 
was any leftover zebra lying about.
	Her eyes flew open and she peered at her abdomen with renewed 
interest.  The pain she felt was not the sharp stabs of agony from 
yesterday, but the mild pangs of hunger.  And that other sensation she 
felt...she froze as she felt a soft kick from one of the unborn cubs 
inside her.
	"Oh, God!"  she exclaimed with delight.  "Ahadi!"
	Outside, the king's eyes flew open as he heard her call.  Leaping 
to his feet, he inadvertently smacked Shaka in the nose with a hind leg.
	"Ouch!"  Rudely awakened, the lion rubbed his wounded nose, eyes 
watering as he watched his brother sprint towards the cavern mouth.  
Ahadi burst inside, trotting quickly over to Akase and nuzzling her 
lovingly.  "Beloved!  Thank God you're all right!"
	"Oh, pfft on me.  Listen!"  She laid a forepaw over the back of 
his neck and drew his head close to her, pressing his ear to her belly.  
Her eyes sparkled in delight as she watched his face light up.  "I can 
feel them!  I can feel them, Akase!"  She laughed, the sound filling the 
air like sweet music as she kissed his cheek.  "Thank Aiheu."
	"Aiheu, and a certain mandrill we know."  He grinned widely.  
"Metutu!  Makedde!  Come in here immediately!"
	The two brothers stumbled in sleepily, rubbing their eyes.  The 
sight of the radiant Akase and Ahadi immediately aroused them, though.  
Metutu bowed low before Ahadi.  "Your Majesty."
	Ahadi nuzzled him so suddenly and hard, it rolled Metutu over.  
"Metutu, I owe you more than I can repay."   He kissed the mandrill with 
his warm, moist tongue.  "Bless you!  You have saved my wife and 
children.  If there is anything you desire, name it."
	"Your Highness, I heal out of love.  Love brought me here, and 
love taught me the secret.  I want your friendship."
	"You already had that.  Surely, there must be something else?"
	"Well..."  Metutu looked at Makedde shyly, who nodded.  "Your 
Highness, my brother grows old, and will soon be replaced by a new 
shaman.  If you love me, let me remain here.  Tell my brother that you 
have captured my heart.  If I had to leave, I would have no more heart."
	Ahadi looked at him for a long moment.  "This is what you would 
have of me?"
	"Y-Yes.  If it is too much trouble, I'll understand."
	"Metutu, let me tell you something."  Ahadi leaned close, until 
his face loomed in front of Metutu's.  "Should your Council of Elders 
dare to appoint anyone else but you as my shaman when Makedde is 
relieved, I shall be displeased.  Very displeased.  Understand?"
	"I understand."  Metutu kissed his mane.  "I love you, Ahadi."
	Ahadi smiled.  "Yes, I can see it in your face.  And that face is 
anything but plain to me, my little striped friend.  There is another 
way I will show my gratitude.  From this day on, you shall not be called 
Metutu but Rafiki, for you are my true friend."


CHAPTER 32:  TWIN SONS

	As Akase's time to bear cubs came close, Rafiki watched with 
special interest.  No male mandrill had ever witnessed a birth before, 
and he was more than a little curious.  But far more than that, he felt 
a kinship to these lives that he had already saved once.
	As it was, Akase had already shown great affection for Rafiki, and 
had asked him to place his ear against her side to listen to the cubs 
moving about.  Now how many mandrills had ever done that before!
	"And when will we be hearing good news from the shaman?"
	Rafiki smiled wryly.  "Akase, let's say no new arrivals are on the 
way yet, but not from lack of wishful thinking."
	Akase patted him affectionately with her paw.  "Surely the gods 
will give you fine cubs.  I want to be there when their eyes open."
	Rafiki tried to hide his amusement.  "They are born with their 
eyes open.  Of course they don't see too well for the first few days."
	"I want to be their Auntie, if you'll have me."
	"Have you?  I'd like to see you try and squirm out of it!"
	Uzuri came in.  The hunt mistress looked at Rafiki and laughed.
	"What's so funny, madam?"
	"I don't mean anything wrong by it," she said, giggling.  "It's 
just you're so cute when you walk on your back legs like that."
	"That's not very polite," Akase said with a frown.
	"Oh, that's very polite coming from Uzuri," Rafiki said with a 
warm smile.  "Yesterday it was these colored stripes on my face.  Before 
that, it was these colored stripes on my....other end."
	He saluted her and walked on by.  Then Rafiki wheeled about and 
saw Uzuri staring at his buttocks with a broad smile.  "You're just 
jealous."
	Rafiki went on his way with a happy hum.  Uzuri used to laugh at 
his appearance, but there was a good natured friendliness about her that 
warmed his heart.  He wanted a witty come back line, but she was so 
beautiful and possessed a silky smooth manner that surrounded her like a 
turtle shell and deflected even the most determined attack.
	Due to the difficult nature of Akase's pregnancy, Rafiki had to 
stay near Pride Rock day and night.  The extra time around lions had 
been very instructive.  For one thing, they stopped acting like they had 
company and just acted like themselves.  Mothers began to groom their 
cubs.  Itches began being scratched, regardless of their location.  But 
much more than this, talk became more loose and free.  Rafiki learned 
more in those days about what lionesses think than he had in the whole 
rest of his time in the Pride Lands.  He also discovered a joy that 
would rarely be his--napping wherever and whenever he liked.  He had a 
lot of time to kill for the first time since he was very young.  The 
lionesses would drop to the ground in groups, enjoying the contact.  
This posed a bit of a problem for Rafiki since he was a mandrill.  But 
Uzuri quickly solved it.  When she lay down and saw Rafiki's searching 
face, she would pat the ground next to her and flick her muzzle back.  
And gratefully he would come and snuggle next to her.  In those special 
moments, there was no need for humor in their relationship.  And 
sometimes Rafiki discovered that if he lay very still and pretended to 
be asleep, Uzuri would touch his cheek with her warm, moist tongue and 
purr.  He would fight very hard not to break out in a revealing smile 
and stay very still.
	Long days passed which turned into long nights.  Though Akase was 
getting restless, she was not allowed to hunt, and had to suffer through 
the performance of her "royal duty," avoiding any possibility of 
endangering the already perilous pregnancy.
	Rafiki was even more restless.  While Akase was brought food from 
the hunt, he looked at the delicacies he was offered and almost 
wretched.  He would smile and eat a little meat, but afterward had to 
step away and find fresh grass, then take a little Tiko Root to keep it 
down.  He would easily use up a week's worth of work at each meal as the 
precious herb was downed, but without it the meat would come right back 
up.  The strong minty fragrance began to linger around him, coming out 
in his perspiration and every breath he exhaled.  Then one day Uzuri 
came back from the hunt bearing a cluster of wild grapes as large as a 
melon.  "Do you eat these?"
	Rafiki seized the prize greedily.  "Yes!  Thank you!"  He ate the 
whole cluster in one setting, then sat back with his stomach full to 
capacity for the first time in several days.  The sensation made him a 
little sleepy, and he looked forward to another nap beside Uzuri.
	"It's time!" Akase shouted.  "Hurry!"
	Rafiki's sleepiness vanished.  He ran into the cave to where Akase 
lay, bathed in sweat and panting.  While he offered her a gourd full of 
water, Uzuri took up her position as midwife.
	"Are you all right?" Rafiki asked?
	"I'm being slowly twisted in half.  Otherwise, I'm fine."
	Uzuri nuzzled Akase.  "How are the contractions coming?"
	"Strong.  Fast."  Akase stared at no one in particular and panted.  
"Oh gods," she said.  "Here they come!"  Her water broke, and Akase 
gnashed her teeth.  Her breath came deep and fast.
	"I see a nose," Uzuri said excitedly.  She watched closely to see 
who was first born.  "Here he comes!"
	Rafiki watched in horror.  Despite all he heard about birth being 
a beautiful thing and a miracle, he saw that it was also very gory in 
some respects.  He quickly grabbed another sprig of Tiko Root and bit 
down.
	"He's a male!  Oh, look at him!"  Akase cleaned off the tissues 
and fluids with the excitement of a child opening a birthday present.  
"He's so beautiful!"  Actually, he looked to Rafiki like a drowned rat.
	Another nose came out, shortly followed by the rest of a cub.  
"Another male!  Twin sons!"
	Akase smiled.  "Twin sons!"  Various other things came out, 
leaving quite a mess on the cave floor.
	"He's not breathing!"  Uzuri prodded and licked the second cub.  
"Oh no, he's dead!"
	"The will of Aiheu," Akase said quietly.  "At least I have a son.  
That's more than I ever thought I'd have."
	Rafiki was seized by a thought.  Later he would say it could have 
been a vision.  Queasiness was forgotten.  He quickly grabbed the wet, 
dead cub from Uzuri and put him on the floor.  With his hands together, 
he pumped the small chest a couple of times, then putting his mouth over 
the cub's tiny muzzle, blew into it until the chest rose.  He let the 
air run out, then repeated it.
	"What are you doing??"  Uzuri stared.  "He's dead.  Let him rest 
in peace!"
	"Bear with me."  Rafiki blew several more breaths into the cub, 
and then when he was about to give up, the cub grimaced, coughed, and 
took in a deep gasp.
	"Oh my gods!" Uzuri shouted.  "He raised the dead!"
	"What happened?" Akase asked.  "Did I hear what I thought I 
heard?"
	"He's alive!"
	Swimming in a sea of elation, Rafiki held the little cub close to 
his heart.  "Thank you, Aiheu!  Thank you!"  He kissed him and whirled 
about, holding his wet body to his face.  "Oh, you precious little 
thing!  God bless you!  Live forever!"
	"He must nurse," Akase reminded him.  "If you're finished, my 
friend...."
	"Oh yes."  He put the undersized cub next to his brother and 
watched the two of them draw life from their mother.  He bent down and 
kissed Akase, then he went to Uzuri, hugged her and kissed her cheek.
	"We have a custom," Akase said softly.  "You have saved his life 
twice now.  You are his uncle now, and he is your nephew."
	"I like that custom."
	He looked down at the cub.  "What is his name?"
	"I call him Taka.  And his brother is Mufasa.  I had thought of 
those names for a long time."
	"Taka," he said.  "My little Taka."
	Then in the middle of his haze of joy, he remembered hugging and 
kissing Uzuri.  He looked back over at her.  A blush of embarrassment 
made the colors of his face all the brighter.  She stared back at him, 
rubbing her cheek with a paw.
	Quietly, he gathered up his staff, his empty water gourd, bowed to 
the queen and headed out.
	He dared not look around, but could hear behind him the padding of 
lioness feet.  As he headed at long last toward his baobab, he tried to 
be casual about it.  Still the feet followed him.  He cringed inside.
	"Oh Rafiki?"
	He stopped still but didn't look around.  "Yes, Uzuri?"
	She came up beside him and sat down directly in his path.  "Am I 
mistaken, or did you kiss me in the cave?"
	"I think it was on the cheek, actually."  He made a feeble attempt 
at laughter.  "I was just so happy for little Taka.  You know, the cub I 
saved?"
	"So that was it?  You were so happy for little Taka?"  Betraying 
no emotions, she drew closer.  "Did you enjoy it?"
	"I'm not sure.  Should I have?"
	She cracked a grin.  "Why don't you try again, and this time pay 
attention."
	He smiled an embarrassed grin and came forward.  "Like this?"  He 
put his arms around her neck, rubbing his hands along her side and 
nestling his cheek to her shoulder.  "Uzuri, I enjoyed every moment of 
our time together.  You are a very special lady, and very dear to my 
heart."
	She touched him with her tongue.  "You must teach me how to 
breathe into a cub.  Where did you ever learn that?"
	"You know, I didn't learn that," he said, still holding tightly to 
Uzuri.  "It just came to me."
	"That's amazing."  She touched him with her tongue again.  "You 
may let go now."
	"Oh."  He gave her another pat and let his arms slip down.  "I got 
a little carried away."
	"That's all right.  But wash off before you hug me again."
	"Oh."  Blood and humors had matted his hair and made him smell 
like a newborn cub.  "Ycch!  Good heavens!"  He left straightway for the 
creek.

 
CHAPTER 33:  THE PREDICTION

	"And so it was when Koko the Gorilla, who had thrown mud into the 
holy lake, became sorely afraid.  For from the fouled milk of Mara arose 
the Makei.  Their faces were terrible to see.  Just enough mud had been 
cast into the lake that they could take the shapes of Ma'at, but not the 
substance.  And while they longed for pleasure, they were unable to 
experience it.  Grief and anger, however, were theirs and they plumbed 
them to the depths for only when they were sad or angry did they feel 
alive.
	"They cried out to Aiheu.  `Lord!  Why have you given us only 
pain?  Where is our beauty, our happiness?" 
	And Aiheu wept, for their suffering was dire.  And he said, 
"Though the cause does not lie in your own actions, you are polluted.  
Do not be filled with resentment, but rather be mindful of the hope I 
offer you.  Cleansing comes from within, in a clean heart and truthful 
witness.  You will be sorely tempted by the mud, but you are also full 
of my milk, and it will overcome all else if you let it.  Remember in 
your darkness that my light is with you, shining on the true path."

                  --  THE LEONINE STORY OF BEGINNINGS, VARIATION D-4-A

	When Ahadi's sons were old enough, they would come to Makedde who 
loved children of all kinds.  He would tell them stories from the simian 
past and the leonine past.  Rafiki loved to hear these as well, and he 
would get snacks for the cubs when they came.  Making these treats was 
no small task, for they were small strips of meat cured and dried with 
spices.  It was a sign of Rafiki's devotion to the children that he 
would scavenge the meat, for while mandrills were corban to the lions, 
the hyenas did not honor the Peace of Asumini and would gladly snack on 
mandrill!  However Rafiki soon forgot the danger when he saw the smiles 
on the cubs' faces when he held out the jerky from behind his back.  
"Are there any good little cubs here?"  The resultant tumult was 
deafening, but both Rafiki and Makedde loved every minute of it.
	Makedde would not have approved the extra tidbits that Rafiki 
handed out when his back was turned.  At times he wondered why the 
children always flocked to his younger brother whenever they came 
calling.  But of all the cubs, only Taka would get an occasional piece 
of rare Tiko root.  Rafiki would hold up the root and say, "Who do you 
love?"
	"You, Uncle Fiki!"
	"How much do you love me?"
	"More than life!"
	Laughing, Rafiki would drop the Tiko root and Taka would snap it 
up.  He never let it hit the ground once.  But after the prize was 
eaten, Taka would wait to nuzzle Rafiki and say, "I really do, honest."  
He knew to close his eyes quickly, for sure as the world Rafiki would 
kiss him on the face and whisper, "My precious little boy!"  These were 
the moments of unbridled joy by which Taka would later measure the 
depths of his pain.
	Rafiki was nearly crushed by the enormous number of things he had 
to learn.  Makedde was patient, but he knew that there was much his 
young brother needed to know to be confirmed as a shaman, and he pushed 
Rafiki as far as he safely thought he could.  And this urgency was not 
without just cause.  The struggle of Aiheuism and Pistism was heating up 
again, or so Wandani had said when he made the long trip to the baobab.  
Makoko did not have the years of acceptance that had made his father a 
fixture in the political landscape.  And even worse, he did not have the 
talent or the desire to dig up secrets on his enemies which he seemed to 
inherit simply by being Kinara's son.
	Scrying was Rafiki's favorite activity.  He would have been even 
more enthusiastic about it if Makedde did not impose such strict rules.  
The pursuit of the future and past can take one's mind off the present, 
and that is where all of Aiheu's creatures find their rightful work.  
Rafiki had a tendency to cling to his unfortunate mother, something that 
only served to deepen his hurt for he could see her but not touch her.  
Makedde was strict, but only as strict as he had to be, so there were 
times it was all right for Rafiki to contact his loved ones.
	Opening a window on the spirit realm was not without risk.  It had 
to be done carefully and only after certain precautions had been taken.  
The lesser Makei were by and large morose spirits in search of 
salvation, and were by their nature prone to try and better themselves.  
The greater Makei, however, were ruthless and would take any means to 
work mischief on the world of Ma'at.  They waited for someone to open a 
passageway they could go through.  For this reason, no shaman would scry 
without first invoking the chief Nisei.  Mano and Minshasa were of all 
the Nisei the most powerful, and their link to Aiheu was very strong.  
They would sweep away the dark spirits to let only the truth come 
through.  Rafiki was working on his guardian prayers when three visitors 
came to the baobab.
	"Rafiki, mix a poultice quick!"  Makedde rushed to the bleeding 
cub.  "Oh Master Taka, what have you done now!"
	Rafiki looked up.  His favorite cub was suffering.  "Oh gods!"
	Makedde held up his hand on one side of Taka's head, then the 
other.  "No sight on that side.  This is bad.  Very bad.  But perhaps I 
can fix it."
	Makedde got some moistened Alba from Rafiki and squeezed it on the 
ground.  The dust became mud, and he took this mud carefully in his 
hand.
	"These are badger marks," Makedde said.  "If I couldn't see it, I 
could sure smell it."  He shook his head.  "What on earth possessed you 
to play with the badgers?  You know they are dangerous."
	"It was a white badger," Taka said.  "I wanted to get a wish, like 
N'ga and Sufa."
	"Oh I see."  He frowned.  "You don't know the difference between a 
white lioness and a white badger!  So you wanted a wish, did you?"
	"It was my idea," Mufasa said.  "When we died, I wanted my brother 
to sit by me with the great kings of the past."
	The remark misted Rafiki's eyes.
	"Noble sentiment indeed," Makedde said, "but all living things are 
precious to Aiheu."
	Makedde packed Taka's damaged eye with herbal mud, then pressed it 
carefully back into its socket.  The eyeball had been lightly scratched 
but not punctured.  Makedde washed away some of the mud a little at a 
time, then he sealed the edges of the cut with Dwe'dwe resin.
	Rafiki brought a gourd of water for Taka to which Makedde added 
blood builders, pain killers and a disinfectant.  A little honey went in 
to sweeten the mix, but not by much.  "It won't taste good, but it will 
feel good."
	Taka found the mixture hardly bearable, but he was terribly 
thirsty after losing so much blood in the heat.  And it did feel good.
	Sarabi asked, "Will that eye work again?"
	"Rafiki," Makedde asked, "You heard the lady.  What will come of 
Taka?"
	Rafiki was nervous.  He was as afraid of the answer as Taka was.  
It was his first time to scry for another, so he looked into the water 
thoughtfully, trying to remember all his brother taught him.  A wind 
came out of the west and stirred the water.  It carried with it the odor 
of decay.  The ripples died down, and he gasped.  "Wait, something 
appears.  It tells me...."
	"What?" Sarabi asked impatiently.
	Rafiki stared into the water.  A chill swept over him as he 
suddenly felt his spirit being seized within his own body by a 
tremendous force.  "Makedde, help me!" he shouted, but no sound came 
out.  He tried to show his distress by gestures, or even by a look of 
horror.  He had no control of his own body, but apparently the spirit 
inside him did.
	A deep voice came from inside him.  "The road is long and hard.  
Those who smile to your face bare their teeth as you leave."  Rafiki 
felt himself leave the bowl and stoop in front of Taka.  He fought but 
was weak and helpless as a newborn.  Pointing an accusing finger, the 
spirit said, "Friends come from unlikely places, then abandon you in 
your hour of need.  He who is first to touch you shall beget your doom, 
and she who gives you love shall let it turn to hate."
	The prayer!  Rafiki had forgotten the prayer of protection.  
"Mano!" he cried out in spirit.  "Minshasa!  Help me!  Aiheu!  Oh gods!"
	"Rafiki!" Makedde shouted.  "Control it!  It's an evil spirit!"
	"Anger is your only salvation," the spirit muttered, gripping Taka 
by the fur of his cheek.  "Arm yourself with cruel hate.  Take what is 
yours, for it shall not be freely given."
	Taka broke away and tried to hide behind Sarabi and Mufasa, 
crouching low and trembling.  "No!  It's not so!  Tell me it's not so!"
	"Stop it!"  Makedde shook him violently.  "Stop it in the name of 
the gods!"
	Rafiki looked wild-eyed as if he'd seen a ghost.  He could move--
he could speak!  It took him a few moments to fully come to himself.  
"Brother!  Oh gods, what happened to me??  I could not control myself.  
I was a stick, and some hand was swinging me!"
	Mufasa's jaw was slack with horror.  "Is this going to happen for 
sure?  Can't we stop it?"
	Rafiki was as weak as a newborn kitten.  He crawled behind Muffy 
and Sassie to look at the cringing Taka.  "Don't be afraid, my son.  
It's gone!  I didn't say those things!"  He stroked Taka and wept.  "Oh 
gods, that was not me speaking.  That was not me!  I love you.  I would 
never say such things.  You must love, always love, the way I love you.  
Forgive me.  Please forgive me!"
	"My brother did not know what he was saying," Makedde said.  " 
Smell the reek of death in the air?  If you forget to pray for 
protection, evil spirits come to speak, and they use a half-truth to 
work mischief.  When I can see you alone, Taka, I'll tell your future 
and I will do it right."
	Taka wept.  "Do they really hate me?"
	"No, Taka," Mufasa said.  "We all love you, even if you do get in 
trouble all the time."
	"But what if it's right?" Sarabi asked.  "I mean if its a half-
truth, doesn't that mean half of it is true?"
	"None of it's true," Mufasa said.  He touched Taka's shoulder with 
his paw.  "There--I'm the first one to touch you.  I'm your bestest 
friend in the world, so you don't have to worry any more."
	"And I'm the one that loves you most," Sarabi said.  "When we grow 
up, I'm going to marry you."
	Taka smiled.  "I can see you!  I can see you with both eyes!"  He 
nuzzled her.  "You would never hurt me, would you, Sassie?"
	"Never!  Not in a million years."
	After the cubs had left, Rafiki crawled to the wall of the baobab 
where he rested his head and wept.  "Poor little child!  Don't let them 
hurt him!  Please don't let them hurt him!  I would give him the blood 
of mercy!  I would die for him!"
	"Rafiki, are you all right?"
	"Who cares!  Is Taka all right??"
	"Do you think so?"
	"Brother, I'm afraid there is more than half truth to this."
	"I know," Makedde said.  "But sometimes it is from the telling 
that the prophesy comes true.  You did not pray for guidance first--you 
left yourself unprotected.  Evil spirits just wait for chances like 
this.  They speak their piece, filling innocent little heads with foul 
thoughts to stir up trouble.  Sometimes silence is the wisest prophesy 
of all."
	Rafiki hung his head.  "I am so ashamed.  Can't I undo it, 
brother?  Is there nothing I can do?"
	Makedde went back to the scrying pool.  He looked deeply into the 
water, praying first to Mano and Minshasa for protection.  Then there 
was a gentle breeze from the east and on the wind was wafted the 
comforting scent of wild honey.  The wind stirred the surface of the 
water, and after it had passed, the power of the holy pair had dispelled 
the shadows.
	Makedde stared like one in a trance.  "Rafiki, if you would hear 
the words of Aiheu, pay attention.  For a little truth is like a little 
branch that will not reach to the choice fruit."
	The young mandrill fell on his face.  "Speak, Lord."
	"A spirit has entered your world.  The evil which you have set 
free, you must also bind.  All the years of your life shall you toil to 
undo a careless moment.  Milk and mud join quickly, but do they separate 
quickly?  Your words have made the milk unfit to drink, yet I have not 
forsaken you.  For if milk and mud are my creations, I can appoint whom 
I please to separate them, and it will be done."
	Makedde gently helped Rafiki to his feet and helped him climb up a 
large branch to a fork near the top of the huge baobab.  Here, the 
branches had interwoven tightly, forming a kind of nook in which he sat 
down.
	Cupping his chin in his hand reflectively, Rafiki sat silently, 
feeling the great tree sway beneath him, listening to the wind whisper 
past his ears, and watched the sun track its way across the great dome 
of the sky.
	Some hours later, the twinkling stars emerged from their daytime 
hiding places to find him still there, unmoving.  The gentle breeze had 
turned cold with the passage of the sun, but the mandrill sat shivering, 
and made no move to go below.
	"I deserve it," he thought.  "I have destroyed the very thing I 
love!"  Aloud he whispered, "Oh God, what am I doing out here?"
	"I was about to ask you the same question."
	He turned to see Asumini behind him.  "What?"
	"Your dinner is ready."
	He shook his head.  "I don't think I could stomach anything right 
now."
	The night breeze ruffled her hair gently as she sat next to him 
and hugged him close.  "What's wrong?"
	"I ruined young Taka's life, today.  Gods, how could I have been 
so stupid?!"  He clutched his head in his hands.  "Am I really the one 
Minshasa chose to serve the King?  God rest his soul, but maybe your 
father's dreams were bigger than his hold on reality."  He raised his 
head and looked at her glumly.  "You always did like the forest better 
than the savanna anyway, didn't you?"
	Her forehead furrowed in confusion.  "What are you getting at?"
	"I'm talking about quitting."  He looked back at the dark skyline, 
avoiding her questioning gaze.  "I'd be better off foraging for a living 
than dabbling in things I have no talent for."
	"What?"  Asumini drew back in disbelief. "Metutu, you can't!  You 
are a wonderful healer, and a fine shaman."
	"Pfah.  I should have stuck with being a scribe.  When Mother 
died, I hurt so badly.  Gods, Asumini, I just wanted to DO something, to 
make a difference!"  he shook his head and laughed bitterly.  "Oh, I 
made a difference, all right!  In a matter of seconds I took everything 
Taka held dear and ripped it to shreds.  He would have been better off 
had I never shown my face here."
	Asumini moved around and looked him in the eyes.  "He would have 
been dead had you never shown your face here.  Along with his brother 
and mother.  You made a difference then, love.  You will do it again."
	"So I saved his life only to ruin it three moons later.  I've 
accomplished something indeed."  He reached out and broke a stem from a 
nearby branch, twisting it between his fingers slowly.  "Asumini, your 
father showed me his dream.  I was supposed to be the chief that would 
save mandrill society from itself.  I was SUPPOSED to be the voice of 
Aiheu to my people."  Angrily, he cast the twig away.  "I reward his 
trust by dragging you out in the middle of nowhere and playing God."
	Asumini sat silently for a moment, then rose.  She carefully made 
her way over to the branch and began to climb down, but paused.  
"Rafiki?"
	Rafiki half turned.  "Yes?"
	"I love you dearly, and will stay with you no matter what you 
decide.  But think on this.  If you had the choice to make all over 
again, if you could choose between becoming the great chief and leader 
of our people, or saving the life of that one little cub: which would it 
be?"  Without waiting for an answer, she turned and left.
	It was well into the night before he followed her.  He slept only 
lightly, and his dreams were fraught with nightmares, in which the scene 
with Taka was repeated over and over.  Finally he gave up, rising long 
before the sun made an appearance, and climbing quietly up to his perch 
where he had sat the previous night.  Crossing his legs, he gazed into 
the expectant eastern sky, looking like a stone sentinel set to guard 
over some priceless treasure.
	Feeling the tree shake, he looked about and saw Makedde ascending 
behind him.  "Good morning, brother."
	"Good morning, Rafiki.  Up early, I see."  Makedde froze in the 
midst of reaching for a handhold, shock widening his eyes as he stared 
at his brother.  "My God, what has happened to you?!"
	"What are you talking about?"
	"Go look at yourself!"
	Rafiki climbed down, grumbling irritably.  "Honestly.  I just 
haven't had much sleep, brother."  Reaching the naos of the baobab, he 
meandered over to the scrying bowl which still stood full of water.  
"From the look on your face, I'd have thought you had seen a monster."  
	Suddenly he caught sight of his reflection.  An old mandrill, 
wizened and white-haired with age, stared back at him.
	"Oh my gods, what has happened to me?"  Rafiki moaned, clutching 
at his cheeks with his fingers, feeling the irrefutable evidence of the 
lines etched within.  He turned to Makedde, who stood next to him, the 
horror in Rafiki's eyes reflected in his own.  "Brother?  What's wrong 
with me?"
	"It was the Makei."  Makedde sat down heavily.  "The spirit has 
drained much of your youth."
	"And left this empty husk behind," Rafiki added bitterly, staring 
at his withered hands.  "Why didn't it finish the job??  Why didn't it 
go ahead and kill me!"
	"Do not speak such nonsense!"  Makedde grabbed Rafiki by the 
shoulders roughly.  "Your body may be weakened, but your mind is 
untouched.  Use it!  Think, brother!"
	"I am."  Rafiki shook him off and snatched up an empty basket 
Makedde used to store dried herbs.  Picking up his digging stick, he 
chucked it inside, and reached for a small pouch of medicines.
	"What are you doing?"  Makedde said, watching him toss item after 
item into the basket.
	"Thinking."  Rafiki continued to pack the basket without looking 
up.  "I think it would be best if I left this place for good."
	Makedde looked alarmed.  "Brother, these are hasty thoughts, borne 
of the heart, and not the head.  Reconsider."
	Rafiki shook his head.  "This is for the best.  I will best serve 
the house of Ahadi by staying as far away from it as possible, now.  I 
have caused enough damage by my folly."  He picked up his medicine pouch 
and tossed it into the basket.  To his irritation, a small packet 
slipped out and landed with a slap on the ground.  Grumbling, he walked 
over and picked it up.
	The old, brittle covering of leaves fell away, and he found 
himself staring at a small remnant of Maraliscus.  The soft fronds 
tickled his palm as he ran them through his fingers gently.
	Makedde cocked his head curiously.  "What's that you've got 
there?"
	"Huh?  Oh, nothing.  Just some Maraliscus leaf."  He crammed it 
unceremoniously into the basket.  "Leftover herbs; you know."
	"Indeed I do."  Makedde frowned sternly.  "I know you are making a 
big mistake in going."
	"Brother, please!  You know this is for the best."
	"I know nothing of the sort.  What I DO know is that-"  he broke 
off, staring over Rafiki's shoulder.  Turning to look, the mandrill saw 
a questing paw appear at the edge of the baobab's lobby-like center.  
Small claws which had been only partway retracted now flicked out to 
their full extent, and a very weary looking lion cub hauled himself up 
into the tree.
	"Taka??  What are you doing here??"
	The little cub looked at him curiously.  "Uncle Fiki asked me to 
come back this morning so he could check my eye.  Is he still asleep?"
	Rafiki felt a thorn pierce his heart.  "No!  No, Taka.  It's me!"  
Rafiki walked over and knelt in front of the cub, holding his hand out.  
Taka sniffed it curiously, then looked up at him, bewildered.  "Uncle 
Fiki?!  What's wrong with your face?"
	Rafiki ran a hand over his features tremblingly, then forced a 
smile to his face.  "I'm just getting older.  Now, be a big boy and hold 
still while I look at the cut, okay?"
	"Okay."  Taka cocked his head obligingly, but squinted the other 
eye shut, anticipating pain.
	With the lightest of touches, Rafiki gently moved the fur away 
from the torn eye.  The mandrill nodded approvingly, seeing the clean 
area where Akase's careful tongue had done its job.  "Good.  No 
infection in the cut.  But I'm afraid my brother was right, it will 
leave a scar."  He clucked sympathetically.  "You poor child.  This 
should never have happened to one so young."
	Taka smiled up at him, his swollen eyelid making his grin 
lopsided, and all the more endearing.  "It's OK.  It doesn't hurt that 
bad."
	"Oh, now aren't we the big brave lion!"  Rafiki again forced a 
smile to his face.  He fought to hold his emotions in check, wondering 
how Taka couldn't see the turmoil inside.
	Taka peered over his shoulder at the half open basket.  "Ooh!  
Whatcha got?  Any jerky?"  Without waiting for an answer, he darted past 
Rafiki and was nosing in the basket before the mandrill could stop him.
	"Taka, no!  Please don't touch that."
	The cub looked at him slowly.  "All your stuff's in here, Rafiki.  
Are you going away?"
	Rafiki looked at his brother helplessly.  "Yes I am, Taka."
	Taka's jaw began to tremble, his eyes growing large and bright.  
"But you love me!  You can't go!"
	"Taka, I have to go.  It was my fault you heard that stupid 
prophecy.  I must leave before I cause you more pain."  He move towards 
the cub, intending to comfort him, but Taka drew back.
	"So you're not going to stay?  Even if I want you to?"  The tears 
began to roll down Taka's face in earnest.  "Is it happening already?  
Don't you want to be friends anymore?"  He buried his face in his paws, 
sobbing.  "It's my fault, isn't it?  I made you look old.  I didn't 
mean, it, Uncle Fiki, I SWEAR!"  Taka collapsed to the floor of the 
baobab, crying hoarsely.  "I won't ask you to tell the future again!  
I'm SORRY!"
	"Oh gods, what am I doing?"  Rafiki  went to the shaking cub and 
held him close, stroking his soft fur.  "I didn't think you'd want me 
around after that.  Yes, I want to be friends!  Oh Taka, you know how 
much I love you!"
	Taka looked up at him, sniffling, both eyes now equally reddened.  
"R-Really?  You really do love me?"
	"More than life!  Just like you love me!"  Rafiki reached up and 
drew a hand down his seamed features.  "This is a mark of my love for 
you.  Never forget that.  If I hadn't fought the evil spirit so hard, 
I'd still be young.  But I did--I fought it tooth and claw!  I'd fight a 
whole pride of evil spirits for my precious little boy!"
	The little cub peered into his eyes searchingly for a moment 
longer, then nodded.  Reaching up with a forepaw, he drew it down 
Rafiki's face lightly, feeling the wrinkles give under his gentle paws.  
"It's not so bad," he said at length.  "You look better than I do, 
anyway."
	Unable to speak, Rafiki clutched Taka to his chest, rocking him 
back and forth as he stroked his dark fur.  
	Makedde paced quietly over and emptied the basket onto the floor.  
Bending down, he picked up Rafiki's medicine pouch and hung it up on the 
bole of the tree again.  Satisfied, he picked up the basket and tossed 
it into a corner.  "You shouldn't need this anymore."


CHAPTER 34:  MODUS OPERANDI

	Of all the animals in the Pride Lands, only the lions surpassed 
the hyenas in their perception of time.  The clan watched eagerly as 
Sister Moon grew pregnant again.  This was her sixth litter since the 
birth of Mufasa and Taka, and they looked forward eagerly to the 
migrating herds that would soon begin passing through the Pride Lands.  
	One day the scouts returned with a report of Hartebeest grazing 
only a few minutes away!  The hunters chuckled as they sortied forth to 
the hunt; Great Roh'kash smiled upon them today indeed.  Only a few 
hours later, at highsun, the lookouts spotted the hunting party 
returning as fast as their legs could carry them.  Bolting into the 
graveyard proper, they were quick to mingle with the large group and 
lose themselves.
	Several guards crowded around curiously.  "What happened?"
	"Hsssh!  Nothing!"
	"What is that smell?"  One of the lookouts sniffed warily, then 
recoiled.  "My gods, have you been eating lion?"
	"None of your business!"
	One of the hyenas, Jalkort, had been a little slower than the 
rest.  He skidded down the hill at the entrance to the graveyard and 
stumbled over a pile of bones.  Right behind him came Shaka, the Prince 
Consort.
	"Cripes, you HAVE been eating lion!  We're all going to die!"
	In moments, Shaka was on top of him.  Jalkort's ribs creaked as 
the huge lion rested his weight on the small body.  "You killed my wife!  
You ripped out my heart, and I will rip out yours!  I give you a moment 
to pray to your god."
	Hyenas quickly crowded around, some indignant, all curious.  One 
of them was Amarakh, the ruling Roh'mach.
	"You are trespassing on our lands!" she said.  "You are holding 
one of my people!"
	"He's a murderer!"  Shaka glared at her, his eyes burning with 
terrible fury.  "He killed my wife in cold blood, and he was on my land!  
She had two cubs, Amarakh.  Two cubs that won't have a mother coming 
home tonight!  She was alive when they ripped her!  Alive!"
	She looked at the trembling hyena trapped under the large 
forepaws.  It was a face she knew all too well.  "I will investigate it.  
I know him.  He's a trouble maker anyhow, and you can be sure I will 
punish him if he's guilty."
	"IF??"  Shaka glared down at his prisoner.  "I saw him over her 
body.  Zazu saw the kill."  He drew very close to the anguished face.  
"You tell her!"  he bellowed at Jalkort, the force of his voice 
flattening the hyena's ears back against his head.  "TELL HER, VERMIN!"
	The trapped hyena squealed, "Somebody help me!"  He looked into 
the crowd.  His eyes met Fabana's and fixed pleadingly on her.  Her 
mouth silently formed the words, "Husband!  Why??"
	Amarakh stared right into Shaka's eyes, trying to appear as 
fearless as she could.  "You can't extract a confession to a murder by 
death threats."  She looked around at the hyena faces and saw agreement 
in their eyes.  It emboldened her.  "This is my land, and I give you my 
word we will investigate within the customs of our law.  But you must 
let him go.  Leave--now!"
	Shaka spat.  "I do not believe you."
	"You are not in a position to negotiate," Amarakh said.  "Leave at 
once.  I will see your brother the King tonight.  We will talk."
	Tears began to roll down Shaka's cheeks.  "You are right," he 
said.  He stared at her, his eyes as empty as the summer sky.  "You are 
absolutely right.  I am NOT in a position to negotiate!"  Looking 
heavenward, the lion took a deep breath.  "Aiheu abamami!!"  He swung 
down and taking the hyena's throat in his jaws bit down and twisted, 
nearly severing the head.  Blood shot out and spattered some of the 
onlookers and the body twitched in spasms before collapsing in a final 
sightless stare.
	Fabana shrieked and ran around in little circles.  "Oh gods!  Oh 
gods!"
	Hyenas looked at other hyenas.  The rage swept from body to body 
like a grass fire.  And as if by an unseen signal they all descended on 
Shaka and tore him apart.
	When she could restore order, there was very little left of Shaka.  
Amarakh looked at the remains and a fear sank into her like a dagger of 
ice.  "Roh'kash will soon test our mettle," she said.  "The Lion King 
Ahadi will no doubt wish to avenge his brother's death.  Well, we shall 
meet fang with fang, and claw with claw."  She raised her head high.  
"Oh, Chosen Ones!  Guard your children now!"  Turning to her mate, she 
nuzzled his shoulder.  "Set out double watch, my love.  I'm expecting 
company."
	Tension built as the time passed.  Then finally about three hours 
had elapsed when one of the guards called out, "Lions approaching at 
post number eight!"
	Ahadi appeared at the rim of the depression.  Beside him were 
Sarafina, Uzuri, Isha and Zazu.
	The four lions reached the boundary of the elephant graveyard.  
Waiting for them was a large war party with Amarakh.  "Steady lads.  Be 
ready to die for Roh'kash and Roh'mach!"
	The lions came in a tightly knit group, with fangs bared.  Ahadi 
came right up to Amarakh.  "Where is Shaka??"
	"What is left of him is removed to the place of the dead."  
Amarakh struggled to show defiance.  "He took the law into his own teeth 
and killed one of ours on our own land without a trial.  We offered to 
hold an inquest, a fair trial by the law of our people.  But he turned 
us down and killed a male whose wife is pregnant."
	Ahadi's eyes hardened into stone.  "So you murdered him!"
	"We EXECUTED him.  We couldn't wait for him to kill others.  He 
was too dangerous to place under arrest."
	"There is no doubt he was dangerous after his wife was ripped 
alive by YOUR PEOPLE!"  Ahadi unleashed a terrible roar.  Uzuri and Isha 
joined him, igniting terror in the hyena guard.  "We have seen the 
evidence."
	"We had not, Sire.  We could not be sure, and we could not wait to 
be sure."  She had Fabana brought forward.  "Here is the dead male's 
wife.  If you would have revenge, let all the people see that you fight 
honorably with her one on one.  Let them see that you have given her the 
FAIR chance to defend the honor of her family."
	The quaking female stammered, "Mercy!  Have mercy!  I am with 
child!"
	Ahadi looked at her with some pity.  "Now you know what it feels 
like to lose someone you love.  The Roh'mach is courting death to toy 
with my sympathies like this, but she has won this round.  You will not 
be harmed."
	But Ahadi looked sternly at Amarakh.  "Because your people have 
killed my brother, and because his wife was basely murdered, you are 
banned.  No more shall you scavenge on the Pride Lands.  Not until the 
last of the group that killed Avina is dead."
	"But my Lord, we will all starve!"
	"Perhaps a few hungry nights will motivate you to enforce your own 
laws, Amarakh.  Besides, this is not such a bad spot to scavenge.  You 
never know when an elephant might want to die."
	She held up her head and stared back.  "You mock me because you 
are powerful, and I am but a hyena.  But the gods know I must be fair to 
my people.  Grief has blinded you, impaired your judgment and robbed you 
of your wisdom."
	Ahadi and the lionesses left.  Someone had to break the news to 
Sarabi and Elanna.  Ahadi knew that Sarabi and Elanna belonged with him, 
and he knew he was the one that must speak the awful words.  "Aiheu 
abamami," he stammered.  "Please God, give me strength."
	Amarakh stood silently, watching them go.  All the efforts of 
generations of hyenas before her had left with them, she realized.  
Gnashing her teeth in frustration, she paced away towards her waiting 
mate.
	"This calls for immediate action.  This ban of Ahadi's means death 
for us all if we don't find a way to placate him--fast."
	"But how?  You heard him.  All the guilty ones must die before 
he'll release the ban."
	"That's just it.  Ahadi has no target for his anger.  If we were 
to give him one..." she looked silently at him.
	"It's a little late for that, don't you think?" he snorted 
contemptuously.  "What are you going to do, smell their breath for lion  
leavings?  He was a big buffoon-there was enough to go around for all."
	"You overstep yourself," Amarakh said dangerously.
	"Well, what do YOU suggest?  Perhaps we should just ask them, eh?"
	Amarakh sat quietly, a smile tickling the corners of her mouth.  
"No, WE will not ask them.  But Shimbekh will."
	"The seer?"
	"Is there another Shimbekh?"  She cuffed him lightly.  "Of course, 
the seer. She is the most gifted in many generations.  She will sort out 
the truth if anyone can."  Amarakh gazed off into the distance, where 
Pride Rock could be seen shimmering in the heat.
	"And when we have found the guilty one, we will have justice.  The 
leader will be brought alive to the Lion King for judgment."  She rose 
and stalked off.
	In the great open courtyard at the entrance to the graveyard, the 
entire clan stood assembled, waiting nervously.  All were lined up.  One 
by one, they were asked one question: "Did you lead the attack?"  As 
each was cleared, their cheeks were marked with a bloody pawprint from 
the leavings of Shaka.
	At the far end of the line, one hyena looked on as the number of 
suspects began to narrow down.  He could not pass the test, and he did 
not want to die helplessly as Jalkort did.  Gur'mekh sneaked away 
temporarily, and with all the courage he could muster bit himself--hard-
-on the inside of the thigh.  He gritted his teeth and tried to blink 
back tears.  Taking his paw to the blood, he marked his cheek and then 
with agonizing effort put dust on the wound to stop the flow of blood a 
little.  It would not do to be hemorrhaging if the deception was to 
work.
	Trying to hide his limp, Gur'mekh tried to blend in to the other 
hyenas.  He realized to his horror that he had marked the wrong cheek, 
but it was too late.  He must try and go unnoticed.
	"Hey Gur'mekh, you're leg is bleeding!  How did you do that??"
	"Hsssh, Korg!  Not so loud!"
	Korg shook his head sympathetically.  "You should have that looked 
at."
	"I will later."
	"But it's serious."  He bent his head to examine the wound closer.
	"I'm serious.  Drop this conversation!"
	Korg sniffed of his cheek, a gesture that prompted Gur'mekh to 
slap him with a paw.  "STOP!"
	Heads turned.  Now Gur'mekh was the subject of scrutiny by dozens 
of hyenas.  He began to tremble.
	"It's yours!  It's your blood!"  Korg shouted, "Roh'mach, it was 
him!"
	Gur'mekh panicked.  He tried to run, but his leg was cramping.  He 
was quickly overtaken and stopped by bared teeth on all sides.  Pushing 
through the crowd was Shimbekh.  He tried not to look in her eyes.
	Shimbekh finally secured a straight-on stare into his eyes.  "Did 
you lead the attack?"
	Gur'mekh squirmed.  "She was dying anyhow!  In the name of the 
gods, there is no way she could have lived!"  He fought frantically with 
teeth and paws, but was grabbed roughly by the throat and choked into 
submission.
	Amarakh glared down at him.  "You've been a thorn in my side long 
enough.  This time you went too far, and you will pay for it."



CHAPTER 35:  JUSTICE

	Ringed about with a huge escort, Gur'mekh was carried to Pride 
Rock.  Amarakh had sent messengers ahead to the Rock, and it was not 
long before the hyenas spotted tawny forms moving through the grass just 
ahead.  Six lionesses took up station in an encircling ring around the 
hyannic delegation, falling in formation without a word.  The hyenas 
began to mutter amongst themselves and wonder if Gur'mekh was truly the 
only one to be punished today.
	They were met at the base of Pride Rock by two more lionesses, who 
flanked the prisoner on either side as they ascended the slope.  
Gur'mekh tried to hold himself steady as they reached the top of the 
path, but when he turned to see Ahadi sitting silently in the mouth of 
the cave waiting for him, he began to whimper.  Next to Ahadi stood 
Rafiki, who observed the proceedings with no small interest.
	"What is going on?"  He looked at Ahadi curiously, but the Lion 
King sat immobile, as if carved of stone.  The mandrill felt a touch 
behind him and turned to see Yolanda, her normally soft features now 
hard edged with anger.  She bent and whispered softly in his ear.  The 
mandrill began to tremble as he heard the details of first Avina's, and 
then Shaka's death.  Looking at the shaking hyena before him, he 
realized what was happening and moaned softly.
	"This is Gur'mekh.  He called for Avina's life," Amarakh said.  
"His paws are stained red with her blood.  We bring him to your 
justice."
	The hyena was terrified, looking into the face of Ahadi.  He'd 
seen what happened to his companion, and without control he urinated on 
the cave floor.  "Roh'kash, help me!  Help me!"
	Rafiki watched in horror.
	Ahadi came over to him, just a whisker's length away.  Quietly, 
without malice, he purred, "I do not want to kill your immortal Ka.  
Aiheu will decide.  I give you a chance to admit your guilt."
	"Have mercy!  Oh gods!"  Gur'mekh fell on his back, soiling his 
fur in the urine as he began to paw at Ahadi.  "I don't want to die!"
	"That is not an option at this point."  Ahadi nodded gravely.  
"You will have an opportunity to be right with your God.  Now tell me 
Gur'mekh, they didn't torture it out of you, did they?  Are you guilty 
as they say?"
	Gur'mekh licked his dry lips and swallowed hard.  "Forgive the 
others," he stammered.  "I talked them into it.  All my fault.  The 
Roh'mach didn't know.  All my fault.  And I'm sorry.  So sorry!"
	"It's good that you're sorry.  Your friends are glad as well, for 
I will not punish them.  Now don't you feel better telling the truth?"
	"I thi-think so.  Yes."
	"Now then, I want you to think really carefully.  I can make it 
swift and nearly painless.  But the gods may not think you have suffered 
enough.  Or I can punish you now, and you will die forgiven."
	Hyena teachings on eternal damnation were very strong but very 
vague.  He had killed a lioness, true.  But she was dying anyhow, and 
even a shaman could have done little for her--or so he thought.  He 
tried to figure out if his soul was really in danger.  On the other 
side, Ahadi's claws and fangs were all too clear.  "I don't know," the 
hyena gasped.  "I don't know!"
	"But you must know, Gur'mekh.  When you do something, be it good 
or bad, there are consequences.  I would not want to face God after an 
easy death.  I would take my punishment now, but it is your decision."
	The hyena began to gasp for air, his heart pounding.  "Well then, 
I want to be sure.  Hurt me bad.  Hurt me very bad."
	Ahadi looked around.  "Take the cubs outside.  Far away.  Wife, 
you may want to leave as well."  Ahadi glanced at Rafiki, but he could 
neither move nor answer.
	Several moments passed by as the young and squeamish filed 
outside.  Soon there were only a few adult lions, two mandrills, and all 
of the hyenas, none of whom budged.
	"You ripped her alive," Ahadi said gravely.  "If you would find 
peace, I will have to return in kind."  He looked upward.  "Oh gods, 
look down on your child.  Witness his suffering and accept his 
atonement."
	"If you do this, do you promise you'll forgive me?  Promise?"
	"I promise, son.  While you can, go as far as you can.  Your 
friends will have to drag you the rest of the way."
	He winced at the sound of that but stammered, "I understand."  
Gur'mekh shut his eyes tightly and whimpered.  "Mother Roh'kash!!!"
	Ahadi spread his claws and with a quick, precise swipe laid the 
hyena open.  His protracted shriek was deafening in the confines of the 
cave.  Hyenas winced.  Gasping, he lay shuddering for a while, his inner 
secrets showing through the five parallel wounds.  After the initial 
shock, he looked down at the damage and looked around at the others and 
their expressions of horror.  He tried to struggle to his feet, but the 
pain from every movement was mind numbing.  "Somebody help me!" he 
hoarsely cried.  "I can't get up!"
	The hyenas could not stir.  They were planted like trees.  Ahadi 
looked down with the gentleness of a lioness moving her cubs and took 
the back of the hyena's neck, lifting him upright.  "Can you walk?"
	"I'll try," he gasped.  With all the courage he could muster, he 
took a few hesitant steps, his abdomen exposing bits of bleeding 
entrails.  As he stumbled forward, blood streamed down his hind legs and 
left crimson tracks.  "Roh'kash, great mother," he gasped.  "My spirit 
longs to nurse at your side.  Forgive me.  Brother Sun, Sister Moon, do 
not shine on my transgressions.  Shine only on my good deeds.  Let my 
debt be paid.  Oh gods, I'm hurt!"  The crowd parted in horror as the 
ripped hyena began his torturous journey into the arms of death.
	"Did that make you feel any better?" Amarakh asked indiscreetly.  
"Maybe you want to save us the trouble of dragging him off.  I've never 
tried Hyena myself, but you might have a taste for it."
	"Watch your tongue!" Ahadi said.
	"Don't fight," Gur'mekh said.  "I'm getting what I deserve.  Let 
it end here."
	Without another word, the Roh'mach turned and led her hyenas from 
the cave to form a grisly honor guard, guiding his faltering steps, 
giving him support, and even pushing him forward as he crawled up the 
promontory.  Rafiki felt tears stream down his face.  He had to avert 
his eyes.
	Gur'mekh had finally crawled to the end of the promontory.  
Glancing over the edge, he was still terrified of the fall.  Afraid 
someone would push him off, he said, "Don't touch me!  I can't stand 
heights!"  Then he looked up.  "Help me, Mother Roh'kash!  Kill me 
please!"  He began to wretch up some bloody scraps, wincing with the 
effort but helpless to stop.  His piteous moans were broken by fits of 
gagging.
	Ahadi came out to the end of the promontory.  The other hyenas 
stood back.  The hyena's eyes rolled up to look into the bright sun.  
From it emerged Ahadi's large, sad face.
	"Do you release me, friend?  Have I paid the price?"
	Ahadi reached down and whispered, "You have paid in full.  I 
forgive you.  Relax, son--I'll be gentle and quick."
	The lion took the hyena's throat in his mouth and pressed down.  
As the teeth pricked his neck, a paw came up to grasp at Ahadi's mane, 
but he fell limp and waited for death to release him from his broken 
body.
	In a few moments his eyes closed and a look of peaceful oblivion 
came to his face.  Ahadi dropped Gur'mekh off the end of the promontory 
where he fell several seconds into the waiting meadow grass.
	Ahadi glared at Amarakh however, and told her curtly, "You are not 
forgiven.  You killed my brother out of revenge, not out of the justice 
you claim.  He had no desire to kill again, but you let the crowd run 
free rather than stop them.  Then you brought death here and paraded it 
before our cubs.  You insulted me in my own house, and you expect mercy?  
Be glad we have justice, or I would send you hurdling down after him.  
By the gods, I am tempted!  Now get out, all of you!"
	"We will take the body and leave, Sire."
	"No, Amarakh.  Leave the body.  I want you out quickly--now GO!"  
He roared loudly and terribly, and the hyenas beat a hasty retreat.  
Rafiki stared at the Roh'mach, looking for a sign of grief.  But if 
there was grief, it was well hidden behind fear and indignation.
	Ahadi's head bent low.  The light wind stirred his mane, but 
otherwise he sat still as a stone at the end of the promontory.  Several 
moments passed without a sign, without a response.  Then when Rafiki 
felt he must say something or burst, he approached the lion.  Ahadi 
looked up.
	The young mandrill looked into Ahadi's face, deep into his eyes.  
The depth of sadness clung to him like wet grass.  
	"Go ahead, my son.  Call me a tyrant.  I won't be angry."
	Rafiki continued to look searchingly into Ahadi's large eyes.  
"You're grieving for him, aren't you?"
	"Killing him did not bring back Avina or my brother.  I did what I 
had to do, but I am left with a great emptiness inside."
	"I know that path.  It does not have to be walked alone."  Rafiki 
put his arms around Ahadi's soft mane and held him.



CHAPTER 36:  ONE OF THOSE DAYS

	Rafiki gazed up at the expanse of blue above him, wondering what 
he had done to anger the gods.  Nothing had gone right that day.  
Climbing down the bole of the tree that morning, he got a sharp splinter 
in his palm.  He managed to extract half when it broke off under the 
skin.  The spot burned, despite the medicinal balm he had rubbed into 
it, and it would likely become infected.  Grumbling, Rafiki had made his 
way to the water hole with a handful of gourds, intending to fill them 
for later use.  He had filled perhaps half of them and had paused to 
soothe his aching palm in the cool water, when movement caught his eye.  
The gourd he had just filled tipped over, dragging the others with it.  
He flailed at them, but too late.  The gourds had been tied together, 
and the weight of the full ones dragged the rest down into the depths.  
Despairing of diving in after them, he looked for replacements, but 
there were none.  There would be frequent trips for water ahead.
	As the evening stalked in, he gave up and headed home.  As he 
climbed up the trunk, he glared at the rough spot where he had acquired 
the splinter and avoided it.  Reaching the lower branches, he sighed 
gratefully and made his way over to his favorite spot.  As he sat, he 
felt a terrible stinging.  Yelping in pain, he leapt up and flailed 
wildly at his backside.  An echoing sting bolted up his arm, and his 
palm opened.  A yellow and black hornet buzzed about his head angrily 
before streaking away to find a safer perch.
	Rafiki's eyes watered as he eyed his puffing palm, then examined 
his wounded backside.  Great.  Now BOTH hands hurt, as well as his seat.  
There was no way to sit or lay that was not painful except on his 
stomach.  And he was almost afraid to try it.  Finally, cursing 
inaudibly, he flopped onto his belly, crossed his arms, and laid his 
head upon them.
	Asumini descended from the upper branches warily.  "What's going 
on? I thought I had a water buffalo trapped in here with me."
	He snorted glumly.  "No, but from the feel of it, my rear will be 
as big as one before long."
	She laughed prettily and embraced him, kissing his cheek.  "I'll 
get some marhamu for the stings.  Oh, smile, Metutu!  How can you be so 
down on such a fine evening?"
	"What's so fine about it??"
	"Because I am carrying your child."
	Rafiki was silent for a moment.  He swallowed, feeling a lump in 
his throat as he looked into the shining eyes of his young wife.  His 
pain was forgotten in the magic of the moment.  "Oh, Asumini!  Are you 
sure?"
	"Does it please you?"
	"Oh gods!"  He embraced her and rocked her gently from side to 
side.  "Bless you!  Maybe a little Asumini, or a little Rafiki...."
	"What do you want most, my husband?  A son or a daughter?"
	"Yes!"  He kissed her.  "Son or daughter regardless, it shall be 
beloved, just like the mother!"


CHAPTER 37: PENDA

	As the moons passed, Rafiki and Asumini's love took on tangible 
form.  Ahadi was pleased, and there was much rejoicing among the 
lionesses.  Uzuri took a strong interest in how the mother and child 
were progressing.  Asumini found the attention flattering, and only half 
jokingly said she was probably going to be the first mandrill to have a 
lioness for a midwife.  On hearing this, Uzuri merely shrugged.
	"I would not mind.  In fact I insist.  I want it done right, after 
all," she said, grooming her forepaw and examining it intently.
	"Oh, of course," Rafiki said.
	Indeed, when the time came round for the child to be born, Uzuri 
stood by Asumini as she endured the pains of labor, whispering terms of 
endearment and nuzzling her softly.  Makedde stood by, ready to assist 
if need be.  
	Rafiki sat near him, drumming his fingers impatiently on an empty 
gourd and wondering just what was taking so long.  A yell of pain 
brought him out of his trance, and forgetting where he was, he leapt up 
to go to his wife's assistance.  A solid THWAP resounded as he struck 
his head on an overhanging branch, and he fell back, wincing.  "Gods!  
That hurt!"
	Makedde grinned at him.  "Are you having pains too?  You'll have 
to wait your turn."
	Rafiki glared at him, holding his head, but his reply was cut 
short by the appearance of Uzuri, her fur slightly tinged with crimson.  
Makedde and Rafiki both looked at her.
	Uzuri came and nuzzled Rafiki.  "Congratulations father.  Aiehu 
has blessed you with a daughter."
	Rafiki froze, unable to speak.
	Uzuri whispered in his ear.  "That means you can go in and see her 
now."
	"Oh!"  He hurried forward and went to his wife's side.  She lay 
quietly, a sheen of perspiration on her forehead, but her face was aglow 
with pride as she motioned to the wet bundle of fur she held close to 
her chest.  "Look at her," Asumini whispered, smiling.  "Isn't she 
beautiful?"
	Rafiki nodded, stroking her cheek gently.  "Just like her mother."  
Leaning forward, he kissed her forehead gently and held her hand.  "What 
shall we name her?"
	"Penda.  For you said whether the child is a boy or girl, it would 
be beloved.  So `beloved' she is."



CHAPTER 38:  THE FEVER

	A new mother, Asumini devoted her time to tending to the child.  
Her care was absolute, and it left no time for gathering herbs, or 
seeking out rare plants.  Consequently, Rafiki found himself pushed to 
the limit of his endurance to get her enough food and still provide for 
his practice.  As a result he got very little sleep, but when anyone 
came to call, he never complained.
	On the contrary, he took great pride in his family, and was at 
great pains to show everyone his beautiful daughter.  On the rare 
occasions when he got a chance to relax, the family would pay a visit to 
Pride Rock to call on their friends.  Inevitably, this resulted in 
nothing but fun for Penda, as she was doted on by everyone.  Her 
favorite game was to try to catch the furry tuft at the end of Akase's 
tail, which the stately lioness kept ever in motion, and just out of 
reach.  In the meanwhile the adults indulged in good-natured verbal 
sparring, with the cue to begin a lament from Akase or Yolanda about the 
latest escapade in their children's misadventures.  Rafiki would clear 
his throat solemnly.
	"That IS a shame.  Of course, I don't have any problem with Penda 
getting into such trouble."
	"Really?"  Yolanda stared at him, wide eyed, for all the world as 
if she had never heard him say this before.  "What DO you do?"
	"Why, nothing," Asumini said, surprised, picking up her cue.  
"Penda is just that way.  She never gets into any trouble."
	Their pride was promptly torn to shreds as Penda, unable to catch 
Akase's tail, promptly seized the tail of a sleeping Taka and gave it a 
gleeful squeeze.
	"Yeow!"  His brilliant green eyes flew open and he leapt into the 
air, twisting lithely to come down facing her.  Delighted, she gave a 
gurgling laugh and wrapped her tiny arms around his furry neck.  "Taga!"  
The poor cub gasped uncomfortably for air and writhed with embarrassment 
under the amused stares of the adults.  Finally detaching himself, he 
shook himself off and trotted off with an air of injured dignity.
	Several weeks later, Rafiki returned home thoroughly worn out from 
his harvesting efforts; he had been required to make a trek of several 
miles to gather Alba for his depleted stock.  The rare flower was 
precious, and was increasingly hard to come by.  Lately he had 
discovered a fresh patch in a relatively nearby forest, but it required 
a whole day's trip to get there and return.  Still it was preferable to 
trying to trade with his brethren for the precious flower; the asking 
price for the herbs climbed higher with each purchase.
	Entering his cool, shady home, he was greeted by a rather drawn 
looking Asumini.  "Hello, husband."
	"What's wrong?"  He embraced her, then held her at arm's length.  
"Gods!  You're burning up!"
	She smiled thinly.  "Well, I do feel tired..."
	"I cannot imagine why."  He led her to their soft bed of leaves 
and lay her down gently.  Quickly mixing a broth with some water and a 
few select herbs, he held the bowl while she drained it slowly.  "Relax, 
beloved."
	"But your work...."
	"My work can wait.  You are what matters to me, not staring at 
this old face in a bowl of water."
	She reached up and stroked his cheek with a finger.  "Only old on 
the surface, love."  Closing her eyes, she drifted off into an uneven 
sleep.
	Rafiki worked frantically over the next several hours to try to 
break the fever which was burning her up from within.  He wished 
desperately that Makedde would return, but the old mandrill was 
attending a special meeting of the Council and probably would not be 
back for some time.  Rafiki had only himself, and the comforting 
presence of his daughter.  He hugged Penda to his chest as he sat beside 
Asumini's bedside, watching helplessly as she thrashed and moaned in the 
grip of the sickness.
	In the early hours of the morning, her temperature soared to new 
heights, and Rafiki began to feel the teeth of panic nibbling at his 
mind.  How much more can she stand?  he thought.  Her skin was burning 
hot to the touch, and she shifted and shook in the grip of chills.  Time 
and again he knelt and forced a few swallows of water down her throat to 
ward off dehydration.
	The sun had risen, and the day was clear and beautiful, but he 
paid it no heed as he kept up his vigil.  Penda had long since tired and 
was sleeping comfortably on her father's lap.  Rafiki peered at her 
blearily through reddened eyes, and smiled at the contented look on her 
face.  Sitting up carefully, he laid her gently by her mother's side and 
made his way across the tree to where he stored his medicines.  Pulling 
out a half full gourd of water and some powdered extracts, he set them 
carefully on a limb beside him.  Turning to it, he stood for a moment, 
staring at the medicine vapidly, then suddenly sat, the impact jarring 
his spine and making his teeth click together painfully.  He leaned 
against the bole of the baobab, his eyes closing of their own volition.  
Just a moment, and then he would get up and mix the extracts and give 
them to Asumini.  Just a moment...
	He opened his eyes slowly and peered about, confused.  Sitting up, 
he groaned as the muscles of his back voiced their protest in a symphony 
of pain.  Rubbing his eyes, he stared, blinking, at the bowl on the limb 
before him.
	It sat there, quietly, minding its own business.  The sun shone 
in, its reddish glow silhouetting the bowl's shadow against the tree 
trunk....
	His eyes snapped open and he stared in horror.  The sun was blood 
red, sitting low in the western sky, oh gods, he had fallen asleep for 
HOURS!
	"Asumini?"  Rafiki hurried down and across the tree, swinging 
under a low branch to find his mate's bed lying empty.  Penda's absence 
was also felt; the child was nowhere in sight.  Rafiki made a quick scan 
of the tree, followed by one of the ground below.  Nothing.
	He spun, intending to descend the trunk to the ground below, but 
froze.  His eyes bulged and his mouth opened and closed silently as he 
stared at the paintings across from him on his shrine.  Asumini and 
Penda were both depicted there, lovingly drawn by his own hand.  What he 
had not drawn was the Eye of Aiheu which now lay emblazoned on the wood 
over their heads.
	"Oh God, no!  NO!"  He ran over and scrubbed furiously at the 
wood, but the marks neither smeared nor stained his hand.  They lay 
ingrained deep in the wood, mutely expressing something which his mind 
cried out against over and over.
	Turning, he scrambled down the trunk of the baobab and cast about 
frantically in the tall grass for some sign of their passage.  Finding a 
depression in the grass, he saw a rough trail of broken stalks heading 
away from the baobab.  He sprinted off down the track, unmindful of the 
pain in his knees, kicking up dirt as he ran.  "ASUMINI!  PENDA!  Please 
Gods, let them hear me."
	He skidded to a stop, nearly falling as he saw the grass thrashing 
ahead.  A tawny head emerged and turned to look at him.  "Rafiki?"
	"Ahadi!  Thank the gods!"  The mandrill ran to him, panting.  "My 
wife is ill with fever; I fear she has wandered off and taken Penda with 
her."
	Ahadi's started.  "How long has she been gone?"
	"I don't know.  I fell asleep like an old fool, and when I woke 
up, she had vanished.  It could be several hours; I don't know."
	Ahadi eyed his friend; the exhaustion on Rafiki's face was plain 
to see.  "You just drove yourself past your limit.  I'll help you find 
her."
	Rafiki slumped, quivering.  "Thank you, Sire.  Do you think you 
can track her scent?"
	"There's no need for that.  I can see her trail clear enough."  
Ahadi's eyes narrowed as he eyed the grass. "The trail is fairly fresh; 
I would say not more than an hour old."  Turning, he made off at a rapid 
pace, just slow enough that Rafiki could keep up.  The grass began to 
thin out, replaced by thicker greenery.  Small bushes and shrubs 
dominated the ground ahead, and Rafiki heard faintly the gurgling sound 
of running water.  Ahead, Ahadi slowed and began to push his way through 
the dense underbrush.  Thorns and branches tore at his beautiful mane, 
snatching away tufts of hair in painful tugs, but these he ignored, 
bulling his way through.  As they reached the water's edge, he suddenly 
halted.  Rafiki nearly collided with his haunches, which filled the gap 
in the brush and blocked his view of the water.  He heard a gasp from 
the lion and hopped about, trying to peer over his bulk.  "What is it?"
	"Great Aiheu," he heard Ahadi stammer.  "Oh gods!  Oh gods!"
	"What?!"  Rafiki shouted.  He began to force his way in between 
Ahadi's massive shoulder and the thorns, but the Lion King shifted and 
blocked him off.  Ahadi turned himself around carefully and sat in the 
gap.  
	He took a shaky breath and looked at Rafiki unsteadily.  "Do not 
go in there, my friend.  There's nothing you can do."  The lion looked 
away and blinked rapidly.  "Her fever must have driven her down here to 
bathe in the cool river water."
	"Is she dead?  Where's Penda?"
	"It looks like a crocodile attack," Ahadi finally said.  "Asumini 
was wounded but got away from it.  I'd say she died later from loss of 
blood."  He rubbed at his eyes with a paw.  "Of Penda, there is no sign.  
The crocodile must have found her easier prey."  He looked away. 
	Rafiki stared at him, feeling the blood drain from his face.  The 
fear and pain fell away, replaced by a numbness.  He stood mutely for a 
moment, then nodded and turned away.


SCENE 39:  TRUE FRIENDS

	When the moon rose later that evening, orange and full in the 
night sky, it found Rafiki sitting silently in the naos of the baobab, 
his medicine pouch clutched in his lap, staring silently at the 
paintings on the tree's side.  The branches moved slightly in the night 
breeze, making strange shadow shapes on the wall, and giving the 
paintings an eerie lifelike quality.
	He remembered his speech to Dedou in the council the day he became 
a shaman.  "I tell you brothers that I am an expert on suffering, for I 
have suffered greatly.  It was suffering that put me on this path.  But 
I also understand love, for I have received much of it."
	He sighed.  "An expert on suffering," he said reproachfully.  "You 
were right, Dedou.  I was a young optimist speaking from my 
inexperience.  A fool who knew so much of herbs but so little of pain!"
	Reaching into the pouch, he pulled out a small bowl filled with a 
whitish paste.  "Deadly Euphractus," he thought.  "So the promising 
young shaman finally makes his last prescription.  Something to relieve 
suffering in the heart."  He dipped his finger into the bowl and scooped 
up a small clump.  In tiny doses, it would relieve cramps, but he had 
enough on his fingertip to kill every mandrill in his village.  "So it 
has come to this," he murmured, staring with unfocused eyes at the 
paintings.  "Busara, forgive me.  All your teachings are like kudra 
seeds scattered in the wind.  I have not passed on the light."  He 
rested his gaze on Asumini's portrait one last time, then sighed.  "Live 
forever.  Live forever in love."  Opening wide, he closed his eyes and 
with a trembling hand lifted the paste towards his mouth.
	"Rafiki?"
	Sighing again, he lowered his hand and spoke without turning.  
"Please leave.  I can not help you right now."
	"Why not?"
	"It is none of your...."  he whirled, intending to drive away the 
owner of the voice, but stopped when he saw Uzuri sitting quietly behind 
him.  "Oh, hello."
	"What's wrong?"
	"My wife and daughter died today," he said simply.  "I am in 
mourning."
	Her eyes gleamed in the moonlight as she gasped in surprise.  "Oh, 
gods!  Both of them??  Rafiki, I'm so sorry!"  She moved closer until 
her foreleg was touching his shoulder.
	"It's quite all right, my dear.  Thank you."  He patted her 
forepaw.  "Things like this happen.  It's life, I guess.  Good or bad, 
we can all die at any time."
	She looked at him for a long moment.  "You seem to be taking it 
rather well."
	"Yes, well, as a shaman, I've learned to accept death in one form  
or another.  It happens.  We should not fight it; we should prepare for 
it."
	Her eyes focused on him sharply, and she frowned.  "I would think 
instead that we should try to enjoy life all the more for it."
	His lip trembled and he turned away to face the wall again.  
"Perhaps you should go."
	As he shifted, she spied the paste on his finger.  "What's that?"
	"Oh, just something to help me feel better."
	Uzuri sniffed at it.  An acrid odor burned her nostrils, and she 
flinched.  She drew back, the muscles at the corner of her jaw 
tightening as she looked at him.  "Why don't I try some?  It will make 
me feel better too."  Quickly, she bent and touched the paste with the 
tip of her nose.
	The response was immediate.  Rafiki sprang up as if shot.  "Don't 
lick that off!"  Desperately, he seized a gourd of water and splashed 
the end of her nose, rinsing away the paste that had stuck there.  
Picking up a soft leather cloth, he dried it carefully.  He bent and 
sniffed it closely, his own nostrils twitching intently, then shook his 
head and repeated the process.  
	While he was drying her nose a second time, Uzuri flicked a paw 
out and slapped the bowl away.  It clattered over the edge of the baobab 
and dropped silently through the air to shatter on the roots below, 
spraying the ground with white death.
	Rafiki observed this silently as tears began forming in the 
corners of his eyes.  "It will take me three days to collect that much," 
he said. "Please be a good girl and leave me alone."
	She looked him directly in the eyes.  "Make up your mind.  Should 
I be a good girl, or should I leave you alone?" Flopping to the floor on 
her side, she motioned to him with a paw to join her.  "We lions have a 
custom that might make you feel a lot better."
	He looked at her but said nothing.
	Inwardly stung by his refusal, she pressed on.  "When someone we 
love dies, we roar.  It's our way of getting the grief out.  Don't you 
shriek or make some sort of noise when you grieve?"
	"We cry."
	She shook her head.  "We do too.  But I mean something big.  
Something that tells the whole world how you feel."
	"No, we don't do that."
	"Try it."
	"I'd feel like a fool."
	"You'd feel better.  Shout it out.  If you can't roar, just yell, 
`She's gone!'"
	"She's gone!"  He sighed.  "There, did that make you happy?"
	"No!  Not gone hunting herbs.  Gone!  Make my ears tingle!"
	"She's gone!!"
	"Didn't you love her more than that??  My gods, she was your wife!  
It was your daughter!  It's not fair!  What kind of husband and father 
were you??"
	"Stop this!  You're making me angry!"
	"Good!  It's not fair, and you SHOULD be angry!"
	Rafiki's hands began to tremble.  His eyes narrowed to slits.  The 
tides of his breath rushed in and out.  "I'm mad as hell!  I try to live 
the good life, and what do I get??  First my mother, and now this!!  All 
my training is not worth a pile of Kavana husks!!"  He picked up the 
paint pot and viciously swung it at the paintings, spattering them with 
red hemorrhages.  "Stupid, useless paintings!  Stupid house in the 
middle of stupid nowhere!  No one to stop her from taking the child!  
Stupid brother in a stupid meeting of the stupid council!  Oh gods, why 
did I bring them out here!!"  He took his staff and began to beat on the 
paintings as he shrilly shouted, "And where were the gods in all this??  
I gave my life to them, and look at how they repay me--nothing but 
heartache, neglect and bitterness!!"
	Rafiki faced the wall and sobbed for a few silent moments.  
Finally the staff dropped from his hand and he meekly said, "I didn't 
mean it, Aiheu.  I'm sorry.  I'm sorry!  Please don't hold it against 
me.  Please don't abandon me!"
	With mixed penitence and desperation, he wiped a few red spots off 
the eye of Aiheu and used some of the spilled paint to fix the smears.  
It looked like an eye again.  In one corner of it he drew a tear.
	"He understands, Rafiki.  It's OK that you're mad at him right 
now."
	At last he turned to face Uzuri, his face drawn and tear-stained.  
"Is that how it feels when you roar?"
	"Perhaps."  A tear began to run down her cheek.  "Do you feel 
better?"
	"I feel so....  I feel...."  His lip began to quiver, and he broke 
out in deep sobs.  "I'm so alone!  All alone!  My youth is gone, and 
everyone I love I hurt!"  Uzuri nuzzled him, and he grabbed tightly 
around her neck and sobbed on her soft fur.  If he hugged her too 
tightly, she didn't complain.  She stroked him with her pink tongue, 
wiping away the salty tears.
	"Maybe I feel better now," Rafiki said.  "Maybe I'll make it."
	Uzuri stayed with him.  Every moment she was off the hunt, she 
spent trying to bring Rafiki out of his shell of severe depression.  She 
would tell him stories and groom him like a cub. She even searched out 
special things for him to eat, though she recognized very little of what 
was in his diet.  A few eggs, a few fallen fruits that she learned to 
recognize.  By and large, he had little appetite, but she would cajole 
him to eat.  He would stare vacantly, but rub her soft fur with his arm 
as she talked.  When she could not be there, she had Makedde sit with 
him with strict instructions that he not be allowed to mix any of his 
own medicines.
	Finally after a week, he turned to look at her, meeting her gaze 
completely.  "I have made a decision."
	"Yes?"
	"I have decided to live."
	She nodded, purring.  "A wise decision."
	He stopped her as she rose to go.  "Thank you, Uzuri.  The gods 
will bless you for what you have done for me.  You will have your reward 
in Heaven."
	"That's nice to know.  However, I intend to wait a while to 
collect.  See you do the same."  She nuzzled him quickly, the turned and 
headed into the dry grass, the brown stalks parting before and then 
closing behind, whispering together in the warm breeze.  Rafiki stared 
after her for a moment, his white hair floating about his face, then 
turned and went inside.


CHAPTER 40: LOVE'S LABOR LOST

	Zazu glided upon the thermals that wafted gently upward from the 
ground below.  His eyes roved restlessly, scanning the grassland far 
beneath him, cataloging everything he saw for later reference, should it 
prove useful to the king.  Dipping the leading edge of his wings, he 
descended slowly, arcing around the great spire of Pride Rock to come to 
a graceful halt at the base of the promontory.  As he headed inside to 
report to Ahadi, he noticed Mufasa and Rafiki at the point of the 
promontory, having an extremely animated discussion.  He chuckled to 
himself at the pinched look of concentration on Mufasa's face.
	"Oh my, looks like it's time for mantlement rehearsal again."  
Ruffling his feathers in amusement, he waddled inside, leaving the 
mandrill and lion to themselves.
	Rafiki motioned with his arms energetically.  "Ah!  No slouching.  
Straighten up, there...yes.   Head up!" he exclaimed, jerking his chin 
up at the lion.
	Mufasa raised his chin up until he was nearly looking skywards.  
"Like this?"
	"No..."  Rafiki reached out and took hold of Mufasa's head, 
feeling the huge jaw muscles playing under his fingertips as he turned 
his head slightly.  "Hold your head just so, son."
	Mufasa stood, unprotesting as the mandrill turned his head this 
way and that.  In his mind's eye, he saw the assembled host stretched 
out on the plain before him, all come to see his great day.  His chest 
swelled with pride, and he unconsciously raised his chin higher.
	Rafiki responded with a tap on the nose.  "No, no, now you look 
arrogant.  Lower your nose...." His forearms flexed as he pulled 
Mufasa's head down with his fingertips.  The fringes of his new mane 
tickled the palms of Rafiki's hands, complicating the mandrill's task 
still further.  "Lower..ah-HA!  That's it!"
	Afraid to move, Mufasa's eye rolled in its socket to look at 
Rafiki.  "My neck hurts."	
	"Ahh, you'll only need to sit that way for short while; just until 
your father finishes his speech."
	The majestic pose vanished as Mufasa crumpled, looking aghast.  
"WHAT?  Aww, c'mon, Rafiki, you know how Dad gets when making a 
speech...."  He groaned and buried his head under his forepaws.
	"Nonsense.  Your father only says what needs to be said, and no 
more."
	"Yeah, but he takes so long to say it!"
	Rafiki grinned.  "If this is the worst ordeal you deal with in 
this life, you should rejoice, son.  All right!  Head up!"  A shadow 
flitted overhead as they resumed their exercises, and Rafiki saw the 
blue-white form of the king's majordomo heading back out over the Pride 
Lands.  His eyes followed the bird for a moment, but then his attention 
was drawn back to his reluctant pupil.
	Zazu soared in an ascending arc, the air slowly dragging away his 
speed as he climbed rapidly.  He glanced around quickly to make sure he 
was unobserved, then grinned to himself.  He had a little free time 
before he was to meet with Boga Kwitu, the elephant Incosi, and he 
intended to make the most of it.  Tucking his wings, he tilted in mid-
air and dropped like a rock.  The soft whisper of the wind in his ears 
became a deafening roar as the ground rushed up at him.  His wings 
flicked out and he leveled out perhaps two feet over the ground.  He 
laughed joyfully as he sped over the tops of the waving grass, the 
slender stalks only a blur beneath him as he arrowed over the ground.  
In the back of his mind, the ever present voice nagged at him, reminding 
him of the dangers of flying this low.  There were several predators 
agile enough to snatch him out of the air and drag him to earth forever, 
only to find out too late he was the king's advisor and corban.  
Nevertheless, it was the one vice he had picked up from his obnoxious 
brothers, and he took the opportunity now to indulge in it shamefully.
	A break in the grass appeared ahead; one of the many paths the 
lions used traveling to and from the water hole that lay nearby.  As he 
flashed overhead, he caught a glimpse of a tawny shape moving along the 
path, but was past before he could identify the figure.  He started to 
turn back, but a glance at the sun reminded him of his appointment with 
the elephants.  Sighing, he lifted a wing and climbed gracefully away, 
turning southwest.
	Far below, Sarabi trotted along the tunnel-like pathway that 
countless generations of lion paws had worn in the grass.  A smile 
graced her young features, but it was partially obscured by the limp and 
dangling form of the hare she clutched carefully in her jaws.  She 
floated through the grass like a spirit, humming to herself in a 
pleasant tone as she walked, switching her tail from side to side and 
slapping the tip against her flanks gently in time to the music she was 
making.  Unable to voice her happiness, she kept up with the song in her 
head.
		"Moko Greatmane was a great cat,
			And a great big cat was he,
		He climbed up over the mountain pass
			to see what he could see,
		As the cat climbed up, all the rain climbed down
			and the wind was blowing fast...."

	Sarabi smiled and glanced up at the sky overhead.  Do you see me, 
Father?  she thought.  Aren't you proud of me?  I wish you were here 
today.  Her cheeks pooched out around the hare as she sighed, then 
mentally berated herself for being so moody.  Her father might not be 
here, but there was someone here who loved her just as much.  Changing 
direction, she angled around the base of Pride Rock and headed towards a 
rough and tumble pile of stone a short distance away.  Nearing it, her 
skin tingled with excitement as she saw the silhouette of the young lion 
in the small cave.
	Taka lay quiescent inside, enjoying the coolness of the stone as 
it seeped into his belly, his legs sprawled awkwardly to allow more of 
his underside to contact the rock beneath him.  His eyes tracked 
restlessly, observing the minutae of everything before him.  The 
grasslands below rippled restlessly in the breeze, echoing his mood.  
Lately, things were...all wrong, somehow.  Everything Muffy said seemed 
to irritate him to the point he felt like cuffing his brother across the 
nose.  And Sassie...his pulse leaped at the thought of her.  
Reflexively, his claws extended and scraped the stone, leaving dull 
scratches in the gray surface.  Crossing his forepaws, he lay his head 
upon them and watched as heat lightning played on the horizon.
	His ear twitched as it picked up a faint swishing noise.  Lifting 
his head, he looked around to see Sarabi padding toward him, her 
forepaws curling inward and then flicking out gracefully as she set them 
down.  "Hey, Sassie," he said, brightening.  He raised an eyebrow at the 
dangling form that she carried in her mouth.  "Whatcha got?"
	Sarabi neared him and laid the hare at his feet, then stepped 
around him.  She rubbed against his side roughly, catching him off 
balance and nearly sending him careening into the cavern wall.  "For 
you, Fuzzy Love," she purred, circling around and rubbing up the other 
flank.  "Something special."  Halting in front of him, she sat and 
smiled, her amber eyes twinkling in merriment.
	"Huh?"  Taka looked at the battered hare, then up at Sarabi's 
enigmatic expression.  He glanced down at it again, then swallowed.  
"Uhh, Sassie?"
	"Mm-hmm?"
	"Uhh, it looks like an ordinary rabbit to me."
	She cocked her head and grinned.  "Really?"
	The tone in her voice made him look up sharply.  He opened his 
mouth to ask her what was going on, but froze, staring.
	On her left cheek, slowly drying in the afternoon breeze, was the 
reddish-maroon pawprint of a lioness.
	"Oh-ho!"  A grin split his features and he rubbed his cheek 
against hers, their combined purring making a rumbling noise in the 
confined space.  Sitting back, he drank in her features, unable to 
contain his happiness.
	"Look at my beautiful lioness!"  He nuzzled he cheek again, and 
she responded, slowly licking his ear and sending a wave of feeling down 
his back.  "Everything about you excites me."  He bent and rubbed his 
face against her rib cage.  "I can hear your heart beating, Sassie."  
She trembled, her eyes closed as he dreamily worked his way back.  
"Proud, strong haunches of a lioness, crying out for love!"
	Her eyes shot open abruptly and she whirled, a forepaw whipping 
out and smacking him across the face.  "Don't touch me there!  We're not 
pledged yet."
	He rubbed his stinging cheek with a paw, his eyes watering.  "I 
wasn't going to VIOLATE you.  Lighten up, girl.  We'll be pledged soon 
enough."
	"But not yet."
	"What's wrong with it?"  He drew away and looked at her.  "Are you 
ashamed of me or something?!"
	"No!  Are you trying to prove something?!  Look, I just don't feel 
right about this.  You need to respect my feelings."
	"And I have none, eh?" he shot back caustically.
	"Well obviously you have ONE, and you need to cool it."  She spun 
and stalked away, her tail lashing furiously.  Taka stood motionless as 
he watched her form recede.  He looked over at the hare's carcass, which 
still lay where she had left it.  He walked over to it and nosed it 
disinterestedly.
	"Great going, idiot," he muttered.
	As the days passed, by and large Mufasa made excellent progress in 
learning his part of the formal mantlement ceremony.  Taka, however, had 
not been to practice in some time, and Rafiki was worried that a 
disaster was waiting to happen.
	Finally, his patience wore thin, and Rafiki requested an audience 
with the king.  He felt rather bad about getting Taka into trouble like 
this, but he had no wish to see the boy inadvertently ruin what would be 
one of the most important days of his life.  Zazu bade him wait outside 
while he informed Ahadi of his presence.
	He did not have long to wait.
	"Your Majesty, I wish you would talk with your son Taka.  He's 
missed so much practice."
	Ahadi blinked at him, confused.  "Have you seen him??"
	"Your Majesty?"  It was Rafiki's turn to be mystified.
	"He's missing.  His mother and I are going crazy.  The moment you 
see him, tell him to report to me IMMEDIATELY."
	"Yes, Sire."  Rafiki left, wondering what mess Taka had gotten 
himself into now.  "That boy is going to be the death of me someday."
	As he forded the long grasses on the way home, he saw something 
moving towards him.  Abruptly, the stalks parted before him, revealing 
the tear stained face of a young lioness he knew all too well. "Sarabi!  
You haven't seen Taka, have you?"  He cocked his head curiously and 
peered at her face.  "What's wrong?"
	She broke into fresh tears.  "He's gone!  He's run away, and it's 
my fault!"
	"How so?"
	"He believes in that prophesy.  I didn't realize just how strongly 
till this morning."
	"So?"
	"He felt if he remained here, it would come true.  He wanted me to 
come with him, but I just couldn't."
	"So it's not your fault after all."
	"Well I...."  She sighed.  "Can't you tell him it was all just a 
mistake?  Like a bad dream?"
	Rafiki rubbed her cheek softly.  "My dear, it was not a mistake.  
I don't want to upset you, but something from the other side came 
through the passage I opened.  It is one of the Makei, I fear.  Truly, 
Taka brings many of his problems upon himself, but this was brought on 
by clever lies, lies buried so deeply in his heart that only God himself 
can uproot them.  I fear he will not know peace in this life."



CHAPTER 41:  THE LETTER OF THE LAW

	Over the next several months, Rafiki watched helplessly as his 
relationship with Taka went from bad to worse.  Taka was a great 
favorite of Rafiki's, and even when most of the lionesses did not like 
him and Zazu addressed him with open contempt, Rafiki kept trying to 
prove that his heart was steadfast.  Still, for Taka, all of Rafiki's 
attempts to make friends seemed like plots against him.
	When Sarabi finally deserted Taka in favor of Mufasa--and most 
everyone thought Taka brought it upon himself--the frayed ends of his 
sanity began to completely unravel.  Rafiki had to avoid Taka completely 
to avoid an "accidental" injury.  And since Taka was pacing about like a 
thing possessed, it became harder and harder to avoid those 
confrontations and still do a shaman's job.
	In the middle of this misery, Sarabi with ever-flowing optimism 
announced that her love for Mufasa was bringing life into the world.  
What words of encouragement they were to everyone--everyone but Taka.  
Sometimes Taka prayed, often beautifully.  Other times he cursed God and 
defied the universe.  In that sense, he was being torn apart from the 
inside, raising love from hate and hate from love.  In a timid way, 
Rafiki sought to bolster the strength of the good fighting within him.  
Once when Taka was deep in prayer, Rafiki slipped down on his knees 
beside him and offered him some jerky.
	"I love you, my precious boy.  Remember when Makedde used to tell 
you stories?  Remember how I would stroke you and sneak you extra 
treats?"
	Taka looked at him fiercely.  "Leave me alone!  Have you no 
pity??"
	"Pity born of suffering.  Pity born of death and despair.  Pity 
that only one who has suffered can understand.  But I have loved, too.  
Loved you and cooled your fevers and rubbed your sprains.  Don't reject 
me, little Fru Fru.  Don't put a thorn in my heart!"
	"Don't call me that!"  he snarled.  "My name is Scar, remember?  
It's what everyone calls me.  It's quite difficult to forget; just look 
at my face, and you'll have no problem remembering!"
	Rafiki passed a hand over his own face, wizened and deeply lined.  
"And am I so different?  We have each been marked with pain, for all to 
see.  But I bear my marks proudly, for they were borne of love.  For 
you, my boy."
	Taka's fierce expression crumbled.  Turning, he walked into a 
corner of his cave and flopped down, sobbing.  "Oh gods, I wish I were 
dead!"
	Rafiki fell upon him, rubbing his mane and kissing his cheek.  
"Not my little boy!  Don't say that, Fru Fru!  You know how it hurts me.  
I saved you once.  I told you to live forever!  You must live!  You 
must!"
	A soft paw reached up and draped over Rafiki.  "Remain a moment.  
I could use some company now."  In that moment, Rafiki felt perfectly 
safe and very loved.
	There were moments like that, and then there were other moments, 
dark ones when Rafiki feared for his life.  Still, he had promised Ahadi 
and Akase that he would take care of Taka, and as long as Aiheu held 
breath to body, he would.


SCENE 42:  KOH'SUUL!

	After the marriage of Mufasa and Sarabi, all of the joy went out 
of Taka's life.  The one thing that held his spirit and flesh together 
was the unconditional love of his parents.  Particularly his mother's 
love, for she saw the childlike yearning for love and responded to it 
much as she always had since he was a young cub.
	Rafiki held out a slim hope for Taka.  Resolutely, he would refuse 
to call him "Scar" for that badger had wounded him just as deeply.  He 
knelt in his baobab in prayer.  "Mano, Minshasa, protect your child!  
Protect Taka from the Makei!  Bring back the gentle light to his eyes!  
Have mercy on him!"
	Just then, Zazu came fluttering in, all in a panic.  "Come quick, 
Rafiki!  The King is feverish--he's dying!"
	It seemed to take an eternity for Rafiki to reach the cave, though 
the did the best he could.  Rafiki arrived out of breath with a small 
pouch of powdered Chi'pim and his staff.  
	Rafiki took some water from the cistern, mixed the leaves in it, 
and gave Ahadi the broth to bring down his fever and bring him to 
himself.  After Ahadi drank it, he checked his eyes, even pulling up a 
little on his eyelids.  He stuck his thumb in the corner of his mouth 
and felt around.  Then he listened to his chest.  His face was grave.
	He took Akase to the back of the cave.  "Has he had trouble 
sleeping lately?"
	"Yes."
	"And the muscle stiffness?"
	"He told you about that?"
	"No.  I'm afraid not.  It's a symptom of Koh'suul."  He whispered, 
"When he comes to himself, take him across the savanna to the edge of 
the forest."
	"Where to?"
	"The most appropriate place.  The fever will subside, and he'll 
have a couple of hours of clear thinking.  But my dear, you must hurry.  
He will not live to see the moon tonight."
	"Oh gods, no!"
	"Hsssh!"
	"You're a shaman," she whispered, but every bit as urgent as a 
scream.  "Can't you do something?  Anything?  I can't let death take him 
from me!  I just can't!"
	He looked in her eyes, pulling down the lid gently with his thumb.  
"Don't worry, in his own way Aiheu has shown you mercy."  He silently 
traced a circle around her right eye with his fingertips and touched her 
under the chin.  He wanted her to know she would soon look on the face 
of God and call Him by name.  "Two, maybe three days alone.  Use that 
time to prepare yourself."
	"Oh."  She nodded, and warm tears trickled down her cheeks.  "I 
understand.  Aiheu is merciful.  But if I could have only seen my 
grandchild first.  You must send my love to the child."
	He wiped away her tears.  "Say good bye to no one, not if you 
really love them.  You must not drink from the common watering hole or 
the stream till you have crossed the meadow.  You must not stop to 
relieve yourself until you have found the place.  I will have to purge 
this cave before it is safe."  He kissed her.  "Is there anything you 
want me to tell Mufasa?"
	"No, just say good bye for me."  She sighed.  "Poor Taka, I would 
not live long enough to say what is in my heart.  Promise me you will 
try and look after him.  He is so dependent.  Promise me you'll look 
after him."
	"I promise I will do what I can."
	"Whispering about me behind my back, old girl?"  It was Ahadi, 
much improved.
	"I was just telling Rafiki about the surprise.  You haven't felt 
well, and now that the medicine is helping you, you can take a little 
trip with me to see something special."
	"Yes, I am much improved.  I won't have to be dragged out, and 
that is a pleasant surprise.  Don't think I didn't know my time was up.  
Death has been stalking me--now it rushes in for the kill."  He regarded 
her gently.  "He gave you the marks of Aiheu.  I take it old girl that 
we are in this together?"
	"As always."  She nuzzled him gently.
	With a heavy heart, Rafiki gathered dead grass from the savanna 
and made a pile of it in the middle of the cave.  He put ferns on top of 
it and a sprinkling of powdered Alba.  Then he took a clay pot, and 
emptied from it a few glowing coals on the tinder.
	The coals satisfied their great hunger, raising a cloud of smoke 
that quickly filled the cave with its bitter incense.
	"Fire!  Fire!"  It was Taka.  He rushed into the cave, coughing 
and wheezing at the smoke.  "Is anyone in here?"
	"You must leave," Rafiki said.
	"You foolish ape!  What do you think you are doing??  Have you 
lost your mind??  When Mom and Dad see this, they will cuff you 
senseless!"
	"They will never see this," Rafiki said.  "It was the Koh'suul.  
Flee.  You are in great danger here."
	"Koh'suul?"  Taka's eyes widened.  "But that's fatal.  You mean 
Dad is dying?  Does Mom know?"
	"Akase has gone with him."
	"Hffff!"  He stiffened up.  "She was well.  I saw her this 
morning.  She was well!  What do you mean she has gone with him?  
Without telling me??  She'll catch it too!  Where is she??"
	"You cannot see her.  It would be death to you.  I'm sorry, but 
she had it when I got here.  Death had already placed his mark on her."
	"But I must see her!"  He pounced on Rafiki and held him to the 
floor of the cave with his paws.  "Tell me where she is or I'll crush 
the life out of you!"
	"Your mother made me promise to care for you.  If you must kill 
me, you must. "
	Taka looked confused, sad, and finally released Rafiki.  He turned 
and sat facing the wall.  "Sassie doesn't love me.  My brother doesn't 
love me.  The gods don't love me.  All I had left was here.  Now I'm 
alone.  They are killing me one small piece at a time.  This time they 
killed my heart."  He trembled.  "I walk, I speak, yet I am dead inside.  
Dead."
	"There must be something I can do," Rafiki said, getting up.
	"Haven't you done enough?"
	"That's not fair, Taka.  When I was young, my mother died of 
Beh'to.  Before the end, she was banging her head on a tree, trying to 
force the headache out.  I watched her die in the most dire agony.  
That's when I knew I must be a shaman.  I would never have to feel so 
helpless again."
	"Then why not help them?"
	"As my knowledge grew, every answer raised new questions.  I 
cannot heal every wound.  So more important than my herbs and spells is 
knowing something to say to comfort the Ka when these bodies of Ma'at 
crumble."
	"Then say something comforting to me."
	He stroked Taka's mane.  "I think about the prophesy.  I think 
about it a lot.  Oh, I knew where I wanted to be and what I wanted to do 
in a year, in five years, in ten.  Now I am committed to fight this 
thing.  All my hopes and dreams have been turned upside down.  In this 
way we are alike, my friend.  Our childhood dreams are over.  The 
morning has come and we awake to face reality in the light of the sun.  
Let us find something real in the sunlight, something that pleases us, 
and hold on to it.  All else is vanity."
	"You are a foolish ape," Taka said.  "But even a fool may say the 
right thing at times."
	Later that evening, Zazu reported the death of the King.
	Rafiki came and put his arms around Muffy and whispered, "It's 
time."
	Mufasa climbed slowly up the precipice of Pride Rock and when he 
reached the tip, paused for a moment.  Then he lifted up his head and 
roared.  It was a sad and terrible roar that rent the evening sky, and 
the lionesses joined in.  The King was dead.  Long live the King.
	The following weeks took their toll on both Mufasa and Taka.  The 
death of Ahadi and Akase left them without guidance and they had to 
become self-reliant.  The emotional toll was especially bad on Taka, but 
Mufasa nearly crumbled under the the weight of ruling a kingdom.  He 
found himself increasingly turning to Rafiki for advice.
	The mandrill chuckled lightly, arms crossed.  "Why ask me?  You 
are the king; I am just a simple old monkey."
	"You are not simple.  You're a whole lot wiser than I am."
	Rafiki shook his head vehemently.  "No!  A whole lot older, I'll 
grant you."
	Mufasa shifted uncomfortably.  "You are gifted, Rafiki.  You can 
see the future.  Can't you tell me what the right course will be?"
	"Ah, so that's it."  He grunted as he sat down on a low rock.  
"Come here, my boy."
	Mufasa obligingly padded over and sat next to him.  Rafiki reached 
up and patted Mufasa's shoulder.  "Gods, you have grown.  I still 
remember the young cub who used to come to me for jerky."
	"It was good, too," Mufasa said.
	"Let me give you something to chew on that is not as tasty, but 
fills the empty spirit."  Rafiki leaned forward.  "Mufasa, it is better 
not to be tied to the future.  It is the natural way of things to happen 
as they will.  Your brother is bound to the future.  It has crept around 
him like a small vine.  But look what happens as the vine gets larger."  
He took out one of his walking sticks, the top of which was coiled and 
curved.  "It will grow to dominate your life, and twist your path in 
many directions.  You will stop ACTING and go through life REACTING.  
You will be like a stone that lies around helplessly, waiting to see 
where the future will toss it next."
	Mufasa sighed.  "I guess you're right.  I just...I'm afraid of 
making the wrong choices."  He looked at Rafiki, his face open and 
honest as ever.  "I don't want to ruin someone's life because of an ill-
thought decision."
	The words stung Rafiki.  He had a vivid recollection of young Taka 
cringing in the corner of the old baobab, crying out in terror: "No!  
Tell me it's not so!"  He gasped and dropped his staff.
	Mufasa blinked and peered at him.  "Are you OK?"
	Rafiki took a deep breath.  "I'm fine, my boy.  I don't think it 
is wise for me to coach you on every small decision.  Still, I don't 
guess it would hurt THIS ONCE to look out for a major crisis?"  Rafiki 
took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  "Meet me at my tree this 
evening.  Come alone.  Tell no one."
	The time seemed to drag on interminably.  Zazu made several 
reports to him which Mufasa only half heard, his mind on the coming 
evening.
	Rafiki was also restless.  He spent his time in prayers and 
preparation.  Set lovingly by the scrying bowl was a large dose of 
deadly euphractus.  At the first sign of trouble, he would take it 
immediately and silence himself forever.  No more would the makei use 
him as a weapon against the ones he loved.
	Mufasa found himself urging the sun to hurry along its path in the 
sky.  Finally, the cool of evening encroached upon the land, and Mufasa 
excused himself from the others.  Slipping quietly into the night, he 
wended his way along well known paths through the grassland until he 
reached the soaring baobab.  Rafiki greeted him warmly, then bade him 
wait outside.
	Rafiki entered his home and crossed to where his scrying bowl sat, 
the surface of the water lightly rippled by the slight breeze that blew 
through his home.
	"Mano protect us.  Mano equip us.  Mano, we thank you."  
Completing his prayers, he sat crosslegged before the bowl.  The water 
rippled a moment longer, then stilled.  Rafiki felt a pulling sensation, 
then all went dark.
	He drifted in the darkness, floating calmly.  This was only the 
beginning of the process, and sometimes it felt like it took hours 
before the vision would appear.  Impatience only disturbed concentration 
and slowed the process down, so he relaxed and waited.
	Abruptly the darkess took on a deeper tone, and fear began to make 
him shiver.  The cold of death, more icy than an arctic wind, brushed 
him slowly.  He felt a dragging sensation, pulling at him inoxerably 
with a grip of iron.  He jerked away as two eyes flared alight in the 
darkness in front of him, a cold light emenating from them which 
illuminated nothing.  Pain awoke in his hands, slamming up his arms in a 
wave of agony.  Suddenly the eyes vanished, along with the dragging 
sensation, and he tumbled helplessly through the dark, crying out in 
fear as unseen shapes began to buffet him mercilessly in a frightful 
current of invisible force...
	And then he opened his eyes to see the bowl of water shimmering in 
the bright moonlight that seeped through the leaves of his home.  
Shuddering with the reaction, he sat for a moment, composing himself.  
"Mufasa?"
	The lion appeared quickly. He started to speak, but cut himself 
off, staring at the mandrill's wan expression.  "Are you all right?  You 
look like you've seen a ghost."
	Rafiki laughed shakily.  "I'm supposed to see ghosts, my boy.  
That's my job, remember?"  He put out a hand to push himself off the 
floor, but winced.  Pain throbbed in his hands as he looked at the 
bloodless gashes that perforated the backs of his hands.  They faded 
even as he watched, but the pain left slowly.
	Mufasa glanced down curiously.  "What's wrong?"
	"Nothing.  Just a little mifupa setting into these old bones."  He 
flexed his hands gingerly.  "I had a strange vision-"
	Mufasa held up a paw, the gesture so like his father's it broke 
Rafiki's heart.  "Hold, my friend.  I was thinking while I was waiting 
down there about what you said to me earlier.  I don't want to know.  I 
want to make my own destiny."
	Rafiki relaxed, smiling slightly.  "And you said you weren't 
wise."  He placed an arm around Mufasa's shoulders.  "All right, but let 
me give you this little bit of advice: some of us are destined for long 
life.  Others are not.  But a little caution never shortened anyone's 
time."
	"Sound advice for a king," Mufasa grinned.  "Thank you, my 
friend."  He started to turn away, but paused.  "Are you sure you don't 
need to tell me something?  You looked awfully scared."
	"No, my friend."  Rafiki put his arms around Mufasa's neck and 
gave him a quick hug.  "I worry about you sometimes.  Just a foolish old 
ape with the jitters, I guess."  He backed away and flapped his arms at 
the huge lion as though he was shooing a fly.  "Now beat it.  Sassie's 
probably waiting for you."
	"Well, since you put it like that..."  Mufasa chuckled as he 
headed away into the night.  Rafiki watched him go, then lifted his 
throbbing hands to his face again, his smile fading as he looked at the 
red spots that remained.
	The next day, Rafiki led Uzuri aside.  "I was wondering if you 
could perform a favor for me."
	"Certainly."
	"Shhhh!  Quietly.  Should Mufasa go with you on your hunts, please 
be careful.  I don't want to see anyone get hurt out there."
	"I am careful on every hunt, no matter who goes."  She shrugged, 
lionlike, by flicking her tail.  "Still, it won't hurt to bear extra 
caution."  She peered at him warily.  "Why?  What is wrong?"
	"Just a feeling."  He sighed, then patted her shoulder.  "Not to 
worry; I doubt much will come of it."


SCENE 43:  FAMILY MATTERS

	The warm sunlight backlit the mandrill as he walked through the 
crowd of animals, stretching his shadow out before him in a wavering 
line.  Rafiki nodded and smiled at the familiar faces as he made his way 
through the throng, the creatures parting before him in a living wave.  
Reaching the foot of Pride Rock, he began climbing the steep rocks 
carefully, finding a grip easily in the time worn stone as he ascended.
	His arm curled up and over, laying flat upon the surface of the 
promontory as he hauled himself up.  Gaining his balance, he lifted his 
head and saw the hulking form of Mufasa sitting there, awaiting him.  
The wind ruffled Mufasa's mane lightly as a smile spread across his 
face.  Rafiki grinned back at him, setting his staff down and embracing 
his old friend.  The two stood there for a moment, then they both turned 
to look behind Mufasa.
	Sarabi lay quietly, her forepaws wrapped around the small furry 
bundle that had become the center of her universe.  As Mufasa came to 
stand beside her, she nuzzled him, burying her face in the soft tresses 
of his mane.  Their purring blended in a soft rumble as they looked down 
at what their love had brought forth into the world.
	Rafiki stepped forward slowly and peered intrestedly at the cub 
nestled next to Sarabi's chest.  The tiny head turned and looked up at 
him, the young eyes open now and staring up at him with a wonder that 
delighted the mandrill.  Sarabi smiled at him and nodded, and he picked 
the cub up gently, feeeling the child's purring in his hands as he held 
him to his chest.  He looked up as Mufasa and Sarabi for a moment, then 
turned and headed toward the end of the promontory.  Reaching the end, 
he looked with awe at the assemble throng of life which spread before 
him.  The sight took his breath away, and he held the cub out for all to 
see.  "May the wind blow kindly on you," he said softly, as the crowd 
below burst forth in jubilation.  "May the sun shine brightly on you.  
May the gods take you to their heart."
	As if in answer, the clouds above parted, a brilliant shaft of  
light shining down directly upon him, dazzling his eyes.  A golden 
nimbus surrounded the cub he held in his hands, and he stared in wonder 
and joy as the animals below knelt in reverence.
	At last, he lowered the child and held him for a moment, then 
returned him to Sarabi's loving arms.  She smiled radiantly and nuzzled 
him.  "Thank you, Rafiki."
	Mufasa nuzzled his son once more, then turned and descended the 
rocks carefully, his good mood fading.  He had an unpleasant visit to 
make.
	Some distance away, a small mouse lay flailing madly at the empty 
air in panic, her tail trapped in between two enormous claws.  Taka 
stared across the gap between himself and the rodent, feeling as though 
he had been set aflame.  Slowly, he turned the mouse this way and that, 
noting idly how the light glinted off the beady black eyes, now spread 
wide in panic.
	"Life's not fair, is it?"  he queried the struggling mouse.  "For 
you see, I...well, I shall never be king."  He uttered a grunting laugh, 
then looked at his captive in mock commiseration.  "And you..will never 
live to see the light of another day."  Chuckling lowly, he spread his 
jaws, fangs gleaming in the morning light.  "Adeiu."  He closed his eyes 
and extended his tongue expectantly, preparing to savor the delightful 
crunch the rodent would make before she was swallowed whole.
	A voice which had begun to annoy him increasingly of late spoke 
from behind him.  "Didn't your mother tell you not to play with your 
food?"  Zazu glared at Taka, who lowered the mouse, sighing with 
exasperation.
	"What do you want?"  he rumbled.
	"I'm here to announce that King Mufasa's on his way," Zazu 
informed him gleefully.  "So you'd better hava a good excuse for missing 
the ceremony."
	Taka's claws flexed angrily, and he felt the mouse struggle free 
of his grip.  The creature scurried acros the floor into a crack and was 
gone.  "Oh, now look, Zazu, you've made me lose my lunch," he growled 
angrily.
	Lunch became the least of his worries after Mufasa's arrival.
	"Sarabi and I didn't see you at the presentation of Simba," he 
said.  Please say you were sick, he thought.  I don't care if it's true 
or not.
	His heart sank as Taka looked at him in a expression of utter 
contempt.  "That was today?  Oh, I feel simply AWWWful."  Stretching, he 
drew his claws down the rock face with a screech that set Mufasa's teeth 
on edge.  "Must have slipped my mind."
	"Yes, well, as slippery as your mind is, as the King's brother, 
you should have been FIRST in line!"  Zazu glared at him.  His 
bellegirence vanished quickly as he dove away, Taka's fangs clicking 
together in the empty air where he had been.
	"Well, I was first in line," Taka shot back acerbically, "until 
the little hairball was born."  What little chance he had of making 
something of himself had vanished with the arrival of that cub.
	Shocked at this outright insult, Mufasa felt his blood boil.  
"That hairball," he rumbled dangerously, "is my son, and your future 
king."
	The discussion went downhill from there.  Taka emerged from the 
cave seething, his tail lashing angrily as he swatted rocks out of his 
path with a powerful forepaw.  His own brother had challenged him, by 
the gods!  And in front of that idiot Zazu, no less.  Taka groaned and 
collapsed in a clump of bushes, hiding his head under his forepaws.
	Rafiki found him there a few minutes later.  "Taka?  What are you 
doing hiding in here?"
	"What does it matter to anyone now what I do?  They have their 
prince," he said, biting the word off savagely.  "They don't need me 
anymore, do they?"
	Rafiki slipped in and tentatively laid an arm around Taka's neck, 
relaxing when the lion made no move to disengage.  "Ridiculous.  Of 
course you are needed.  Simba will need his mother and father more than 
anything.  But there will come a time when he need someone else to talk 
to.  His uncle."  Rafiki turned Taka's head to face him.  "You are 
special, Fru Fru.  He will share things with you that he will never tell 
anyone else.  You'll be his best friend, and his most trusted 
confidant."
	"How can you be sure of this?"  Taka looked at him.
	"Because, I have my own nephew.  Or have you forgotten?"  He 
tapped Taka's nose gently with a forefinger.
	The lion blinked, chastened.  He looked into Rafiki's eyes for a 
moment, then smiled, a real smile, the first one Rafiki had seen from 
him since the death of Ahadi and Akase.  "You're right.  By the gods, 
I'm going to see him right now!"  He sat up and hugged the startled 
mandrill to his chest.  "Thank you!"
	Shortly after, Sarabi was surprised to see his brilliant green 
eyes blinking timidly at her in the gloom of the cave.  "Sassie?"
	"Yes?"
	He figeted nervously.  "Can I...I was wondering if I could...see 
him?"
	"See him?  You could have done much more than that, had you been 
here this morning," Sarabi said icily.  "Why bother now?"
	His ears fell flat and his whiskers drooped as he stared at the 
ground.  "I was wrong," he said.  "I'm sorry."  He turned to leave, his 
tail dragging in the dust.
	"Wait!"  Sarabi looked at him for a moment.  "Come here."  She 
shifted her foreleg as he slowly padded over to where she lay, exposing 
the sleeping cub to his questioning gaze.  Taka stared, captivated by 
the tiny form.
	Simba lay quiescent in his mother's care, the morning light 
shining in and gleaming on the little whiskers that poked from his 
muzzle.  He twitched and moved slightly as he dreamed peaceful cub 
dreams, enjoing a peace Taka longed to return to.  Taka bent his muzzle 
to the cub, filling his nose with scent of his nephew.  Making the 
lightest of contacts, he nuzzled Simba with his nose.  "Gods, Sassie, he 
is beautiful, isn't he?"
	Sarabi watched him wonderingly, seeing him as she had not seen him 
since cubhood, his eyes aglow with utter delight.  "Yes, he is."  She 
licked the tiny form, eliciting a belated wriggling from her son.  "He's 
going to be a great king someday."
	A terrible pain wrenched at Taka, and he closed his eyes tightly 
until it passed.  The light seeping in became cold and dull, and he sat 
up, looking down at the object between Sarabi's paws.  "Oh, yes.  He 
looks so much like his father."  He glanced disintrestedly at the cub's 
face, the words falling upon his own ears like so much dead grass.  
Whoever the cub looked like, it had nothing to do with him.  His eyes 
flickered coldly as he peered at Simba.  "You will live an intresting 
life."
	He turned lithely and paced out.   

SCENE 44:  UNWELCOME GUESTS

	"...and it is with a heavy heart that I assume the throne."  Taka 
paused, biting his lip and looking at the lionesses gathered before him, 
a look of terrible grief etched on his face.  But behind his eyes, 
something capered and danced madly with glee, he had DONE it, by the 
gods, he had finally done it, and no one was the wiser.  Euphoria filled 
him, and he took a deep breath, as if fighting back tears.
	"Yet out of the ashes, we shall rise to greet the dawning of a new 
era, in which lion and hyena come together in a great and glorious 
future!"  At his signal, the hyenas emerged from their hiding places, 
slinking down the rocks and crawling from ravines and gullies, eyes 
gleaming ferally in the faint light of the crescent moon which hung over 
the Pride Lands, looking for all the world like the scythe of the reaper 
come to claim his own.
	Later that evening, a stunned Rafiki was led out of the cave by 
Krull and two other hyenas. 	As he stumbled down the rocky path, shoved 
and pushed about by the two thugs, he recalled numbly the manic look in 
Taka's eyes when Rafiki had confronted him.  "Oh Taka," Rafiki moaned as 
the guards led him away.  "What has happened to you?"
	"Shut up," one of the hyenas growled roughly.  He butted Rafiki in 
the back with his nose, sending the mandrill reeling into the dirt.  
Raucous laughter resounded in Rafiki's ears as he lay there, staring at 
the coarse grass which fluttered in the light breeze.  A shadow 
flickered over his vision, and he glanced up, expecting to see the 
guards looming over him.
	Instead, his eyes met empty air.  He frowned uneasily as Krull 
tongue lashed the other two into a semblance of obedience, then motioned 
to him with a paw.  "Get up, old one.  We don't have all night."
	As they neared the baobab, he wondered nervously if the shock of 
Mufasa's death had clouded his senses.  Shadows flickered in and out of 
his line of sight, yet whenever he turned and tried to seek them out, 
they melted away into the night.  As they ascended into the tree, a 
small voice spoke something inaudible in his ear, and he glanced at 
Krull curiously.  "What?"
	The hyena glared at him.  "By the gods, are you feebleminded?  I 
haven't said anything!"  Nosing him inside, the hyena looked him 
squarely in the face.  "By the King's authority, I have been appointed 
captain of this guard detail.  Know this, prisoner; your life lies in my 
jaws.  Disobey the boundaries His Highness has set, and I will crush it 
between my teeth.  Understood?"
	"Clearly," Rafiki snapped.
	"It is good, then."  Krull nodded to him and departed.
	The mandrill watched him descend and take up station at the foot 
of the tree.  He sighed and sat down, legs dangling over the side of the 
tree as he looked wistfully at the empty spot where Makedde's bed had 
once sat.  He missed his brother terribly, but at least he had been 
spared having to see this tragedy.  Rafiki rubbed his eyes, groaning, 
and glanced at his shadow next to him, sharp and neat in the light of 
the moon which hung low in the sky in front of him-
	His face pinched in confusion.  The crescent moon sat before him 
in the sky.  A quick glance behind him confirmed that his shadow was 
right there at his back, as it should have been.  He glanced to his 
right at the puddle of darkness that lay next to him, wondering where 
the other light was coming from.
	His eyes bulged as the shadow streched out and flitted away, 
seeping into the crevices of the baobab.  A tenebrous whispering sound 
reached his ears again, making him twitch his head reflexively.  His 
hair stood on end as a chill ran down his spine, making him shiver.  
Kneeling, he muttered a quick prayer to Mano and Minshasa, then opened 
his eyes again and looked out at the savannah, a moan escaping his lips 
as he peered about.
	The air about his tree swirled with dancing shapes, flitting here 
and there from shadow to shadow without revealing detail.  A faint 
hissing sound, like rain on the savannah issued from them, and 
occasionally he would catch a swatch of unintelligible whispers.  He 
glanced up at the sky, and saw them whirling about overhead, in a 
faintly circular pattern that seemed vaguely familiar.
	He bolted forward, seizing a limb and swinging upward, flitting 
from branch to branch agilely until he was perched as his favorite 
lookout spot.  It was from here that he loved to watch the sun rise and 
spread its golden rays across the Pride Lands, but he stood now 
helplessly, jaw agape as he watched a much darker dawning take place.
	A roiling mass of blackness, tinged with angry purple at the edges 
danced and shivered over the elephant graveyard.  At one end, a long 
tentacle-like extrusion was protruding towards the spire of Pride Rock, 
and it was from the tip of this that the shadowy shapes emerged, to go 
spiraling down the pinnacle and flowing out over the ground below.
	"The Makei," he whispered.  "The Makei are everywhere, oh gods 
what is happening to us?"  He raised his eyes beseechingly heavenward.  
"Aiheu, help us.  Guide us in our time of need-"
	One of the dark shaped arrowed from the sky, enveloping his chest 
and freezing his breath in his lungs.  A second darted down and 
surrounded his face.  Total blackness enveloped him, and with a startled 
cry he fell through the air, flailing blindly.  He collided with several 
branches before coming to halt with a bone-jarring thud.  Feeling about, 
his hands roved over his staff.  Snatching it up, he swung wildly around 
him, but the only response was a faint trace of laughter.  The cold 
feeling in his chest spread as he groped feebly, hunting for some kind 
of weapon, but his searching hands only found his medicine pouch.  
Falling to his knees, it spilled across the floor of the tree, sending  
roots and herbs in a hectic sprawl.  He sank to his side, fingers 
twitching, and felt the smooth silkiness of a lock of hair at the bottom 
of his bag.  He drew it to him weakly, wanting to feel the brush of the 
fur against his face one last time-
	An unholy shriek drilled into his head.  Suddenly, the veil was 
ripped away, and he saw the brilliant sprawl of stars above him.  The 
benumbed feeling had left his chest as well, and he drew in a deep 
breath, coughing as he glanced at the lock of fur in his fingers.  It 
shone in the dark tree, glowing faintly from within.
	"Mano," he whispered.  "Thank you."  Dragging himself to his feet, 
he looked about.  There was no sign of the dark shapes he had seen 
earlier, but the feeling of malevolence in the air was unmistakable.  It 
beat upon him, and he felt the well of despair threatening to return, 
eagerly waiting to swallow him whole.  He clutched the white fur to his 
chest, and the feeling faded immediately.  Nodding to himself, he picked 
up a torn piece of leather he used to wipe up spilled medicines.  
Wrapping it carefully around the fur, he tied a thin leather thong 
securely around it and slipped it over his neck.  The makeshift locket 
felt warm against his chest as he made his way to the edge of the tree.  
He gazed at Pride Rock slowly, then walked over to the shrine Makedde 
had so carefully hewn into the side of the trunk.  His fingers traced 
the outline of Simba he himself had drawn into the bark as a tear ran 
down his cheek.
	"Poor child.  Innocent and now dead because of me."  Sadly, he 
took his hand and wiped over the painting, smearing the mark of his 
anointing.  "Somehow, some way, I will undo this evil.  I swear I will 
never stop trying till death takes me."



SCENE 45:  THE DROUGHT

	As the months wore on, Rafiki found himself increasingly 
distrusted by the new monarch and his associates.  Taka was no fool, and 
realized that a shaman who could look into the future could just as well 
look into the past; it is far easier to determine what has been than 
what might be.  Rafiki was forced to watch as his scrying bowl was 
reduced to splinters by his hyannic overseers.
	One particularly odious guard took great delight in tormenting 
Rafiki as he wrecked the priceless artifact.  "Don't fret, Painted 
Face," he said.  "I'll help you tell the future.  Let me predict what 
will happen if you don't keep your mouth shut about our great and noble 
king."  He bared his fangs in a cold grin.
	Krull, who took no pleasure in tormenting the old mandrill, cut 
him off with a glare.  "Enough, Skulk.  You are dismissed."
	Skulk spat at him derisevely, but departed willingly enough.  The 
old monkey never fought back anyway, and there was little sport to be 
had in trying to provoke him.
	Rafiki looked at Krull, his intrest piqued.  "Why do you restrain 
them?  Why not let them pound me into the ground?"
	"There is no honor to be found in assaulting a helpless old 
monkey."
	"Helpless?!  Give me my staff, and I will show you how helpless I 
am!"
	"Calm yourself, old one.  It is not hurt I need from you, but 
healing."  He winced, squinting, and Rafiki saw the faint discharge from 
his left eye.  "I thought I had chaff in my eye, but it hurts even worse 
now than it did yesterday.  It requires the services of a healer."  His 
good eye looked into Rafiki's.  "If you are as good as they say you are, 
it won't matter that I am a hyena."    
	Rafiki's features softened.  "I don't know about `good,' but it 
does not matter what you are as long as you feel suffering."  The hyena 
sat as he began to examine the eye gently.
	Krull peered at him curiously from the good eye.  "Why does Scar 
hate you so?"
	"Hasn't he told you?"
	Krull chuckled lightly.  "Let us say for now that he has not.  
What would you tell me?"
	Rafiki stopped his minstrations.  "I would tell you that I am 
partly to blame."  He looked away.  "I had toyed with powers that I did 
not fully understand, and gave a foothold to the curse that burns him."
	Krull's good eye opened wide.  "Hfff!  Honest little chap, aren't 
you?  And yet a half-truth is like a half-carcass--it can be dragged 
twice as far."  He grinned at Rafiki for a moment, then grew somber.  
"Tell me about this curse--help me to understand it."
	Krull cursed inwardly as he recalled uttering those words.  Oh, he 
had found understanding, all right-in the form of servitude to the 
mandrill which lay asleep across the baobab from him.  He watched the 
gentle rise and fall of Rafiki's chest; he appeared to be in the grip of 
sleep.  The peace of night surrounded him on all sides; he might never 
get another chance like this.  Who knew what bewitchment the old monkey 
might thrust upon him when he awoke?  Better to leave now.  He rose on 
silent feet, his eyes gleaming in the dark.
	A few feet away, Rafiki muttered restlessly in the depth of his 
dreams.  He chased Taka through the grasss, the little cub laughing 
delightedly as his Uncle Fiki stumbled through the plants trying to 
catch him.  Grinning, Rafiki pounced, lionlike, sailing through the air 
to land upon the cub and seize him in his hands.  "Gotcha!"
	The cub turned to face him, still giggling, but then his smile 
faded.  His body swelled under Rafiki's, growing until he was dwarfed by 
the body of a full grown lion.  The skin over the left eye split, 
forming a horrible scar.  The young eyes became ancient, filled with 
fear and loathing as he stared up in horror at the old mandrill.  "You 
did this to me!  All your fault, Uncle Fiki!"  he screamed hoarsely.  
"All your fault!"
	Rafiki jerked upright, bathed in sweat.  Panting heavily, he saw 
Krull leaning over him, looking worried.  "Great Roh'kash, what is wrong 
with you?  Are you posessed?!"
	Rafiki reached over with a shaking hand and picked up the leather 
locket which had slipped off in the night. "No," he said, putting it 
back on.  The feeling of terror diminished rapidly, and his breathing 
eased.  "Thank you, Krull.  I'm sorry I woke you."  He patted the 
hyena's shoulder.  "Go back to sleep."
	The hyena felt a wave of shame as he padded back to his corner and 
lay down.  The old monkey was obviously terrified out of his wits about 
something, yet he was upset about waking Krull up!
	Over the next few weeks, Rafiki became more and more of an enigma 
to the hyena.  Many of the odd stories he had heard about the mandrill 
paled next to the truth, while still others turned out to be bald faced 
lies.  Krull discovered an outlet in talking with the old shaman, one he 
had never enjoyed in the company of his bretheren.
	Late one summer's eve, the two were sprawled comfortably in the 
naos of the baobab, relaxing in the balmy air.  The talk wandered 
aimlessly, and they found themselves discussing the differences in their 
females.
	The hyena asked casually if he had ever been married, and was 
quite taken aback when he learned of the death of Asumini and Penda.  
"I'm sorry."
	"Not your fault, son."  Rafiki glanced at him.  "And you?"
	"Nope."  The hyena grinned to himself.  "Though I came mighty 
close.  I escaped by the grace of the gods, and by virtue of a weak 
stomach."
	"What?!"  Rafiki perked up.
	"Well, it's a long story-"
	"We have plenty of time."  Rafiki grinned maliciously.  "Tell me."
	Krull was silent for a moment as he remembered what had happened.  
"We have a ritual in our clan for those members who have gone three 
years and remain unmarried.  This is called "Spunking" and it is a jolly 
prank-unless YOU are one of the unmarried ones."  He chuckled lightly.  
"It takes place on a night of the full moon. The poor males are brought 
into a ring of spectators.  They want to pick the most level headed male 
and female, you see, so they have each of them spin around tightly three 
turns, then run across to the other side of the circle.  Spin three 
times, run back."
	"Oh gods," Rafiki said, laughing.
	"That's what I said."  Krull grinned and shook his head.  "The 
male that is left standing when the others have stumbled woozily 
staggers over to the unmarried females.  He gets to pick, though she has 
the right of refusal.  They are encouraged NOT to refuse by their 
parents who would be responsible for their upkeep for another year.  
They then after a rest, they send the males back out for another go at 
it.  If a male throws up, he is automatically disqualified for that 
season."
	"Sounds fair," Rafiki snickered.  "So what happened to you?  Did 
she refuse?"
	Krull flushed underneath his gray fur.  "Uh, well no.  I was 
staggering all over the circle, and finally made my way over to where 
the females sat.  When the Roh'mach asked me if I was okay, I..."  He 
rubbed the back of his neck nervously with a forepaw.  "I sorta barfed 
on her."
	Rafiki clutched his stomach and howled, his eyes watering.  After 
a minute, he regained his breath and patted the hyena on the shoulder.  
"Not to worry, son.  I'll bet you made it the next season."
	"Yeah, I did.  But she turned me down."  He looked at the ground, 
embarrassed.  "You can't force someone to love you back, though you can 
try to sway them.
	Rafiki's smile vanished.  "I'm sorry."
	"Don't be.  We still see each other.  I mean, her husband and I 
are best friends.  We share everything right down the middle."
	"You mean?"
	"Heck, if she'd married me, he would have expected no less.  
Friendship is important among our peoples."
	"That's nice," Rafiki said, shaking his head and scratching his 
beard.  "Whew, there is a lot I have to learn."
	Krull looked at Rafiki with an amused twinkle in his eyes.  He 
began to snicker.
	Rafiki looked at him crossly.  "Why you old scoundrel--you're 
pulling my beard!"
	"YOU didn't know I was kidding, and I'M the old scoundrel!"  Krull 
laughed.  He had a pleasant, infectious laugh and Rafiki was sorry he'd 
not heard it before.  "I'm already spoken for.  Her name is Brill.  If 
my own brother touched her, I'd bite off his tail and shove it up his 
nose!"
	Rafiki smiled.  "Well spoken!  So her name is Brill, eh?  What 
does that mean?"
	"It means beloved."
	Rafiki smiled wistfully.  "That is a good name.  In our tongue, it 
is Penda."
	"Your daughter?"
	"Yes, Krull.  Thank you for remembering."  Rafiki gave Krull an 
affectionate pat.  "Once a leopardess taught me that other people have 
feelings too.  How quickly we sometimes forget."

SCENE 46:  MINSHASA'S AUGURY

	It was well into the second year of Taka's reign as king before 
things became noticably wrong.  Rafiki had seen countless dry seasons 
come and go, but this year it had begun several weeks early, and with 
much greater ferocity.  Coruscating winds swept across the open plains, 
sifting dust into every nook and cranny.  It got into everything.  The 
lionesses found it neccessary to clear a place in their caves to lie 
down in.  It drifted into the dwindling water holes, making a clean 
drink impossible.  It even got into the body in one way or another; 
Rafiki could feel it grinding between his molars as he chewed his 
dinner, and his patients kept him busy constantly cleaning the dirt from 
open wounds and sores which refused to heal under the onslaught, but 
simply became infected.
	One evening, he sat down after treating a cut on Khemoki's rump.  
The Zebra'ha Incosi had suffered a small wound, but to hear him talk, it 
was as if his leg had been torn asunder from his body.  The piteous 
moaning and complaining had set Rafiki's nerves on edge, and after the 
zebra left he brewed a cup of tea to calm himself.  
	The balmy scent of the tea combined with the slightly medicinal 
side effects had the desired result, making him drowsy and feeling 
slightly disconnected.  He leaned back, closing his eyes, and began 
uttering his prayers in a low voice.  His mind's eye opened, and he 
found himself sitting upon a rock in the middle of a grassy plain.
	He heard a rustling behind him and looked about curiously.  A 
small vixen wended her way through the grass, her questing snout 
twitching delicately.  She looked up and brightened.  "Oh, there you 
are!"
	"I don't believe I've had the pleasure..."
	Her large ears flickered in amusement.  "Oh, I don't have a name.  
Don't need one.  I'm just the messenger."
	"Oh?  What's your message?"
	"Mishasa will be along soon.  She's quite busy."
	"Oh."  Rafiki looked nonplussed.  He'd never heard of a Nisei 
having a full schedule.  "I guess I'll wait."
	"Good idea!"  The vixen sat and began to groom her lush tail.  
Rafiki eased to the ground and leaned his back against the rock, looking 
at the bautiful sky above.  He began to while away the time by finding 
animal shapes in the clouds overhead, amusing himself by trying to count 
how many of which animal he saw in the clouds.  First one to 20 wins.
	He had upped it to 50, with the lions well in the lead, when he 
finally gave up, looking around agitatedly.  "Where IS she?!  Even a 
Nisei shouldn't take this long to do anything."
	The vixen lifted her head from herpaws where she had been napping.  
"What's wrong?"
	"She thinks she's got me flummoxed.  But no, I know what she's up 
to, you see."  He wagged a finger at her.  "She's playing mind games 
with me, that she-devil of a lioness."
	"So you think you have her all figured out, eh?"
	"Enough to know I wish I was large enough to give her a good 
spanking."
	The vixen grinned suddenly, her teeth flashing in the sun.  "You 
should have done it when you had the chance."  Laughing, she darted 
behind a nearby rock.
	Rafiki sat up.  "Hey you, come back!"
	"Okay."  The brilliant white head of a lioness arose from behind 
the rock.  "Spank me, daddy!" she said, grinning, and launched herself 
at him.  Rafiki backpedaled madly as she flew through the air, knocking 
him to the ground and driving the air from him in a rush.
	Wheezing, he drew in a breath of air, and was nearly smothered as 
she drew her tongue across his face in a long, wet, drooling lick.  "I 
love it when you talk mean to me."
	"All right!  I surrender!"
	She rolled away from him and sprawled comfortingly in the grass, 
motioning for him to sit beside her.  Her face sobered as he lay his 
head against her shoulder.  "You seek answers."
	"Yes."  He looked at her searchingly.  "We are afflicted with a 
terrible drought.  I have suffered through hard years before, but this 
is unnatural.  I fear the Makei are responsible."
	"You are correct."  She looked off in the distance at the 
shimmering horizon.  "Some of the worst Makei feed off pain.  One of 
these has entered the Pride Lands, drawn by the pain and suffering Taka 
bears, as well as that which he has wrought." 
	Rafiki shuddered.  "What can we do to stop this?  Our land is 
dying in front of our eyes."
	"The Makei that holds this land in his grip will not permit the 
Nisei One-who-brings-rain to enter.  The pain of this land has given him 
enormous power, and he holds the other Makei in bondage, to keep his 
grip upon you."  She paused, looking into his eyes.  "There is a way to 
defeat him, however.  But you may find it harder than you think."
	"Tell me!  Before Aiheu I swear I will try, no matter what the 
cost to myself."
	"Very well.  This Makei is fixated upon Taka's Ka.  It is the 
center of the suffering here, and it is the anchor with which he 
remains.  Your only hopes are three-fold.  Either you heal Taka's pain, 
drive him off, or kill him."
	The mandrill moaned and covered his eyes.  "I would rather hurl 
myself from the top of my tree than kill him.  Please don't ask me to do 
that."
	Minshasa bent and gently kissed his forehead with her tongue.  "Of 
course I won't.  Were your face young and untouched by the evil released 
by this curse, I could still see the love your heart bears for him."
	"But what am I to do?  I am yet Aiheu's servant, but I am only an 
old ape."
	"You are not without hope, my son.  Someday, while there is still 
time, I will send a light into the darkness.  You will receive a sign of 
great joy.  Wait for the son of the king."
	"Bless you, my Lady."  He fell before her.  "I touch your face."
	"I feel it."
	When he arose, Minshasa was gone.
	The day Taka emerged from the cave on Pride Rock and announced 
that Elanna was pregnant, Rafiki was absolutely ecstatic.  "It's the 
sign!"  His hopes were dashed, however, that terrible night that Krull 
summoned him to come with him to Pride Rock, informing him of Elanna's 
impending miscarriage.  Rafiki worked feverishly over the lioness, but 
his medicines were depleted entirely, and no amount of reassurance from 
Uzuri and Taka could dispel the fact that the birth could not be 
stopped.
	In a moment of desperation, Rafiki stepped outside the cave for a 
second.  "Oh gods, where is Asumini?  Where is she when the whole world 
cries out to her?"  Light flicked at the edges of his vision, and he 
glanced at it hopefully, only to see the light from the moon glinting 
off of the surface of the water hole.  Dejected, he turned and went 
inside.
	As he passed Zazu, folorn in his ribbed prison, he looked 
thoughtfully at the hornbill for a moment, then stopped, eyes wide.  
"Taka!"
	The lion padded over quickly.  "What?"
	"I need two plants to make a medicine that can save your mate.  
They grow far from here, though."  He began to describe the herbs, and 
Zazu began to hop about excitedly.
	"I know those plants," Zazu said from his confinement.  "Please 
let me go."
	"But you won't come back," Taka snarled.
	"I would come back for her."
	Their discussion was sundered by a wavering cry of pain, followed 
by a lower and more agonizing wail.  Isha emerged from the cave, eyes 
streaming as she bore the dead child of Taka and Elanna in her mouth.  
She laid the child before Taka, who stood, trembling.  "You son, Bayete.  
Mano has called him away."
	The lionesses bowed their heads.  "He waits for you," they intoned 
softly.  "He waits by the side of Minshasa."
	Taka nosed the still form, tears blurring his vision as inhaled 
the scent of his son, locking it away in his mind forever.  "Aiheu 
abamami," he finished, his voice breaking.
	Isha picked up the cub and caried it over to Rafiki.  He took it 
from her gently, stroking the lifeless child as tears ran down his face. 
"You were our only hope," he thought.  "Oh gods, we are all abandoned to 
die here."
	Krull was careful to keep away intruders as he escorted Rafiki 
back that evening.  It took four cups of tea to calm Rafiki's nerves, a 
dangerously high amount, but his scrying bowl was ruined, and he had to 
speak to Minshasa quickly.  Krull looked on in fascination as the 
mandrill's eyelids fluttered, deep in the depths of his inward journey.
	As his vision cleared, he saw the lioness lying down placidly, 
nursing a cub.  Mano lay watchful nearby.  Rafiki looked from one to the 
other.  "Your cub?"
	"Now he is."
	With a sudden rush of emotion, he recognized Taka's cub.  "Gods!" 
	"Shhh," she said.  "Be very quiet."
	Rafiki smiled at the sight of the small body replete now with 
health and vitality.  Bending to his knees, he kissed the lioness on the 
forehead.  Mano nodded with a kindly smile.
	Rafiki smiled back and looked to Minshasa.  "Now you have a little 
one of your own."
	"I have thousands," she said.  "And he is not the last.  The 
hopeless, the helpless, the lost all come to me.  Mano gives them 
safety, and I give them comfort."
	"Bless you.  But how do you find the time?"
	"All the past, all the future is mine.  I have time for your needs 
as well."  She took the cub gently in her teeth, placing him between her 
large paws and began to bathe him with her tongue.  "This child is not 
the sign.  You must look for another."
	"Just like that?"
	"Just like that.  No riddles this time."  She resumed bathing the 
cub.  The look on her face was so gentle that Rafiki knelt by her and 
presumed to interrupt her one last time.  "How is Asumini?"
	Minshasa looked up at him and smiled tenderly.  "Your path has not 
been easy, Metutu.  You walk the stony ground of servanthood.  But if 
you are faithful, the Lord will pull all thorns from your heart and kiss 
away all your tears."
	He bowed his head and closed his eyes for a moment while the warm 
words filled his darkness with shimmering light.  When he opened them 
again, he was facing a hyena.  Krull's face was lit from within.
	"Did you see her, Krull?"
	"No, though I would have pulled out my whiskers one by one."  He 
leaned dreamily on the wall.  "I could feel a presence.  Oh gods, what 
peace.  The last time I felt that way, I was...."  He looked down, 
embarrassed.
	"Nursing at your mother's side?"  Rafiki smiled.  "She died when 
you were very young."
	The guarded look threatened to return to Krull's face.  "Who told 
you?"
	"No one.  I could see it in your eyes."  Rafiki draped his arm 
over Krull's shoulder and gave him a little pat.  "Well, my friend, hope 
is not dead.  Life continues.  We will look for another sign."

 

SCENE 47: LOOKING FOR LOVE

	The announcement of Uzuri's pregnancy was a thorn in Taka's side, 
made all the more evident when her children finally arrived.  He felt as 
if the lionesses were deserting him, perhaps even preparing to run off 
and join other prides.  His mate, Elanna was no less distraught; at 
first she saw the pregnancies as evidence that Taka's late night 
excursions were more than just simple "patrols."
	The sight of the newborn Togo and Kombi reassured her; the cubs 
had none of the earmarks of her husband.  Even the scent was wrong, and 
she secretly delighted in the knowledge that Taka was hers.  That 
evening she snuggled alongside his warm body, nuzzling his dark mane.
	"Uzuri's children are quite beautiful, aren't they?"  she said 
dreamily.
	"I have yet to find out; I couldn't even get near her today," he 
said crossly.  "You'd think the lionesses had never seen a cub before."  
His eyes darkened.  "I shall have to make a formal inspection in the 
morning."
	"Good.  That means I have you all to myself tonight."  She nibbled 
on his ear, sending shivers down his spine.
	"Don't try to distract me.  You know what I mean."
	"Yes love, I do.  Now let me show you what I mean."  She kissed 
his cheek as the night drew gentle shadows around them.
	The next morning, Uzuri felt a cold wave of fear sweep over her as 
Taka entered her cave.  "Good morning, hunt mistress."
	"Good morning, sire."  She looked on with astonishment as Taka 
touched the twin cubs with his tongue.  "You are blessed, Uzuri."
	For the first time in her life, Uzuri was at a loss for words.  
She nodded numbly as Taka sat down, his tail stirring restlessly as he 
watched the tiny cubs wriggle and roll about at their mother's belly.
	"I was young and fresh like them once.  Before I was marked, and 
life took it's toll on me, there were people that thought I was cute.  
Remember, Uzuri?"
	"You were a cute cub," Uzuri said.  "I remember."
	"Look at them.  They are too young to know I'm ugly.  When I kiss 
them, they don't want to slink away and rub in the grass."
	"You don't look that bad," Uzuri said, forthright even then.  
"People are just afraid.  Afraid of you and afraid of the hyenas.  Maybe 
you have this unique kind of thing with them.  Maybe they like you.  But 
they don't like us.  They make it painfully clear that all we're good 
for is hunting.  Don't take my word for it--just ask them."
	"It's too late to change that now."  He shook his head.  "I will 
never live to see them gone, just as I will never live to be forgiven 
for bringing them here.  I don't think they like me any more than they 
like you, but they bow and scrape before me, seeking favors."  He 
sighed.  "They'll kill me when they get the chance.  Every time I pass 
one of them, I wonder, `will it be you?'  And every night the same dream 
reminds me that each day may be my last."
	"Oh gods, how awful!"
	"So you're not amused by my plight?  You have a kind heart, just 
like your mother had."
	He spoke to her so tenderly that Uzuri dared address him unbidden.
	"Sire, when you were born you weren't breathing.  I saw Rafiki 
breathe life into you with his own mouth.  Can't you find it in your 
heart to forgive him?  It would mean a lot to me.  Please?"
	With a great sigh of resignation, Taka said, "Of all else, I could 
forgive him.  But for trapping me in this life of pain, I cannot.  And 
what's worse, I am too much of a coward to undo it.  If I could just go 
to sleep one night and never wake up...."  He sighed deeply, then 
reached down and kissed the cubs again.  Taka half laughed.  "I do tend 
to run on like a fool, don't I?"  He silently turned and padded away.
	Later, as he lay upon the peak of Pride Rock, his majordomo, Gopa 
the stork, flew in with a great flapping of wings.  "I have your daily 
report, Sire," he grated.
	Taka peered down at Uzuri, who lay sunning herself on an outthrust 
rock below, her cubs nursing placidly.  Tameka lay beside her, the 
pronounced swelling of her abdomen unmistakable.  "Gopa, where are all 
these new children coming from?  I have cubs practically running out of 
my ears!"
	Gopa blinked, the wattle under his neck shaking gently as he 
glanced down at the lionesses, then cocked his head at Taka.  "Who do 
you THINK brought all those cubs?  The stork?  Well it certainly wasn't 
me."
	Taka looked at him askance.  "What in the devil are you talking 
about?"
	"Forget it," Gopa sighed.  "You want this report or not?"



SCENE 48:  CLOSE QUARTERS

	Rafiki and Uhuru had just finished their evening prayers when 
there was a great deal of excitement among the other hyenas outside the 
baobab.  Fabana was rudely thrust into the baobab hollow.  One of her 
guards looked at Uhuru and relayed the orders of Shenzi's anger:
	"Krull, merketh Fabana om arant.  Beershomb nik gorun om Shenzi 
flethun, om Fabana marukh!  Oblez?"
	"Oblez!"
	"Kreblat Roh'mach!"
	"Roh'mach kreblash!"
	Uhuru glanced at Rafiki.  "It seems we have company.  
Indefinitely."
	"Oh I see."  Rafiki sighed.
	Fabana fell before Uhuru.  "Krull, oms merketha besath!  Beshum 
Taka gatha om Shenzi pardu om I'bu!  Roh'kash ne nabu!"
	Krull tried to comfort her as best he could.  "Fabana, Roh'kash ne 
nabu.  Disi blechuri m'oh, okash."
	Rafiki breaks in.  "That is so sad!  Your own daughter!"
	Fabana stares at him.  "Bet'ra hyanikha?"
	"Bih hyanikha," he said with a nod.  "And without a strong accent, 
I might add."
	"Is there nothing you don't know?"
	"Plenty.  Like why your own daughter renounced you?"
	Her ears pricked up in anger.  "Because I renounced her first.  
She is a butcher and an ingrate.  She would kill Taka by driving him 
insane and pushing him to suicide.  No daughter of mine would do that to 
her own brother."
	"Then it's true, isn't it?  You adopted him."
	"Yes.  Now they will probably tell him I'm dead or or that I've 
run away."  She looks at Uhuru.  "Krull, in the name of the gods, please 
get a message to Taka telling him what had happened to me."
	"Not a good idea," Rafiki says.  "If your heart is still tied to 
your family, and I suspect it is, you must not tell Taka.  Out of love 
for you, he would have Shenzi put to death.  Do you want to make that 
kind of choice?  Son or daughter?"
	Fabana drew in a deep breath.  "Oh gods!"
	Rafiki scratched his beard thoughtfully.  "My lady, you are a 
victim in all this like I am."
	"You're one to talk.  You put a curse on my Taka and all this is 
your fault.  All your...."
	"Now you listen here!" Rafiki cried, grabbing up his staff 
threateningly.  "I won't hear that again from you or anyone else!  I 
breathed into him when he was born.  Gods know how much food I scrounged 
for him when he was a young'un.  I loved that boy like my own son--more 
than I loved Mufasa.  I still do, but given a chance I would take this 
stick and beat him to death, understand?  I pity you, but not enough to 
share this tiny baobab with your constant whining!"
	Fabana looked down, her ears drooped.  "I always knew he'd die 
young.  But if you ever get the chance, please don't beat him with the 
stick.  Put him to sleep with one of your herbs.  And promise me you 
won't let them rip him alive.  That's his nightmare, you know."
	"I know.  I'll do what I can."  He reached over and rubbed Fabana 
between the ears.  "Maybe we'll get along after all."  
	Fabana began to scratch energetically.  Rafiki said, "Oh no!"  He 
reached and got some fleabane.  "You leave the little buggers outside 
when you stay here!"  Krull grinned as Rafiki seized the protesting 
Fabana and began to rub the elixir into her fur.


SCENE 49:  THE SIGN

	Fabana overheard Rafiki's exultant shout and rushed in to see the 
mandrill capering about, chuckling and dancing, Krull sitting across 
from him and grinning widely.  "What is going on, here?!"
	Rafiki whooped and danced over to her.  "Look!"  he said, holding 
up a handful of milkweed floss and dust.  "Just look  at it!"  He held 
it up to her face for close inspection.
	She exploded in a sneeze, sending him into more gales of laughter.  
"What's so great about a handful of dust?"
	"It is the sign!  Simba is alive!"
	Rafiki uas unknowing of the shock his words had on the hyena, for 
Fabana had been at the ceremony when Taka took power.  She had heard the 
lament issue from his own lips of the death of his brother; she had 
heard the grief in his voice as he described the lifeless body of his 
nephew lying next to him.  And now...she shook her head, eyes growing 
wide as she heard Rafiki exclaim to the newly named Uhuru: "We go to the 
King!"
	Her protestations went unheeded, and when the two eluded their 
hyena guardians and set out to find the rightful king, she accompanied 
them determinedly.  If she could not change their minds, she would 
change Simba's.
	The going was slow and tortuous, as none of the three were 
prepared for the rigors the desert threw at them.  The scorching heat 
compelled them to take shelter in the daytime, and this provided ample 
time for thinking.  Too much time for one particular hyena.  Fabana 
agonized endlessly over the elegy Taka had given for his brother and 
son.  He had been sincere; she would have sworn it.  That foolish ape 
must have misread the signs in the floss, if there were indeed any there 
to be had in the first place.
	As they trekked on, the knowledge beat at her as harshly as the 
desert heat.  Why lie to her?  She had heard him praying at night, 
begging the gods to forgive Taka, forgive.  She had seen the paintings 
on the wall of the baobab of the cub, and, while ignorant of the 
markings around it, had understood their meaning clearly enough.  The 
mandrill practically viewed Taka as one of his own family.  The 
knowledge beat at her like a hammer, and finally, unable to stand it any 
longer, she went to Uhuru.
	He listened, a grave but sympathetic look on his face.  "So what 
do you want to do?"  he said at last.
	"I don't know."  She bent her head, looking at the ground.  "But 
if what he says is true, then my child has sinned teribly.  When Mother 
Rroh'kash calls him to her, there will be a reckoning."  Her breath 
hitched.
	Uhuru patted her consolingly.  "Don't despair.  I have spoken to 
Rafiki, and the son of Mufasa promises to be a just and kind soul.  I 
will stand with you, Fabana, and plead Taka's case with you.  Perhaps 
together, we can convince Simba to find forgiveness.  He is a child of 
Aiheu, after all."
	"Thank you!"  Fabana nuzzled him.  "By the gods, my boy may be 
lost, but he will find his way again.  He must."




SCENE 50:  REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE

	As they picked their way through the jungle, Fabana stumbled over 
a vine for what seemed like the thousandth time.  "Where are you GOING?"
The answer proved disturbing to say the least. Rafiki was led by 
something ambiguous; a voice might tell him to turn here; a sign in the 
gnarled wood of a tree compelled him to go around an obstacle instead of 
over it.  This was disconcerting to Uhuru and Fabana, who were used to 
tracking real smells, sights and sounds.  Fabana lost her paitence when 
the mandrill stopped for a moment, closed his eyes, then pointed.  "That 
way."
	"Oh wise one, shouldn't you keep your eyes OPEN when tracking?!"  
she snapped.
	Rafiki glanced around at her, grinning.  "Sights and sounds are 
more of a distraction.  They drown out good judgment."
	"Good judgement seems to be seriously lacking, here!"
	Uhuru stepped in front of her.  "You speak from ignorance.  You 
should see what he's capable of!"
	"That's exactly what I'm afraid of."  She sighed and followed 
them.
	Presently, Rafiki called them to a halt.  "We are close now.  You 
must stay behind."
	Fabana shook her head, inscensed, and Uhuru balked.  "Why have we 
come all this way to stop now?"
	"Uhuru, you are my brother in truth.  My heart wants you by my 
side, but I know in my head that you must not interfere, for your 
training is incomplete.  Fabana, you want to plead your case before 
Simba.  I must do this for you, my dear.  I will try to protect Taka, 
but I must not interfere with the justice of the gods."
	He sat down.  From a gourd, he took some saffron yellow seeds.  "I 
must be careful while I mix this.  No talking please."
	"What is it?" Uhuru asked.
	Rafiki half laughed.  "It's so funny, you know.  Every time I tell 
someone `no talking please,' they answer me with a question?"  He slyly 
winked at the hyena to show there were no hard feelings.  "This will put 
me in closer touch with the spirit realm.  But it is very powerful.  Too 
little and all I have are side effects.  Too much and I will convulse 
and die.  This other package contains an emetic.  If I convulse or fall 
down, I may not be able to take the dose.  You will have to hold me up 
and dump the entire dose in my mouth, then give me plenty of water.  Got 
that, Uhuru?"
	"Yes, teacher."  Uhuru looked at him puzzled.  "What side 
effects?"
	"Oh, you'll know.  It either makes me giddy or terribly depressed.  
Let's begin with a prayer for guidance."
	Uhuru and Fabana laid on the ground belly-up and reached out to 
paw at the sky, then they got up and faced the sky.  This was a pious 
act among hyenas.  Rafiki got down on his knees, then touched his 
forehead to the ground.  "Oh Mano, I touch your mane!  Oh Minshasa, I 
kiss your brow!  Hear the cry of your cub in the night!  Hear the prayer 
of one who needs your love!"
	"Yes, Father!  Yes Mother!" Uhuru shouted in the ecstacy of 
prayer.  "Favorites of Aiheu, friends in distress!"
	"Bless our undertaking," Rafiki said.  "Not for our sakes, but for 
those whom we serve."
	"Let us not trust in our own wisdom, which is foolishness," Uhuru 
cried fervently.
	"We summon you from the halls of the righteous."
	Rafiki rose, rubbed Uhuru between the ears affectionately, then 
took the yellow seeds, counted out eighteen of them carefully, counted 
again to be sure, then combined it with a paste of Tiko root to keep it 
from coming back up.  "To the gods and good friends," he said, downing 
the mixture.
	The bitterness, even through the tiko root, made him cringe.  His 
breath reeked of mint.  "Oh, what a hard kick!"  He reached for some 
water and drank it quickly.  "Ycch!"
	"Are you all right?" Fabana said.
	"I think so."  He rubbed his head.  "It has been a while since I 
last did this.  But I think it was not too unpleasant, at least till it 
was over, then boy oh boy what a headache!"  He half laughed.  "Imagine 
me, a shaman, not thinking to lay in a stock of cure-all, the most 
common perscription!  What a fool I was--a stupid fool!"  He laughed.  
"I won't soon forget!"  He patted the gourd affectionately.  "Yes sir-
ee.  No WAY I'm running out THIS time!  I got a big bunch!  BIGGY-big!"
	"That's good," Uhuru said, warily.  "How are you feeling now?"
	"Fine, and how are you, my friend?"  Rafiki laughed.  "I hope this 
takes effect soon.  I don't have all day."
	"Oh I think it's coming along nicely."
	Rafiki looked about, and gradually he could percieve that they 
were anything but alone.  Restless spirits wandered the savanna.  A herd 
of wildebeests that only he could see.  A leopard stalking past him with 
an intent look.  Two lion cubs wrestling in the grass, laughing.  In the 
distance, a couple of animals Rafiki could not recognize.  A Sabretooth 
came close by, very leonine but with enormous fangs.  She did not look 
at him or even seem to acknowledge his existance at first.  But as the 
drug took full effect, he said, "Greetings, Pride sister!"
	She looked about, startled.  "Oue khuch?  Ghash'ee spumu kio?"
	"Do you understand me?"
	She tilted her head in puzzlement.  "What sayest thou?  Thou art 
earthen, and yet thou seest me?"
	"Yes.  You must not be from around here."
	"This was my land.  Now our noble line is lost.  No more do our 
cubs nurse at their mother's side."
	"That's very sad."  He began to cry.  "You're so beautiful!"  
Rafiki fell to his knees.  "So sad, so sad!"
	The cat nodded gravely.  "Good manners are not extinct.  Peace be 
with thee."
	Uhuru came to him and shook him.  "Are you all right?"
	"Why of course I am!"  Rafiki got up and dusted off his knees.  
"You think I am old, perchance?  I'll have you know there's a lot of 
wear and tear left in this old body!"  He straightened with pride.  "My 
whiskers may be white, but I can still pick you up!"
	When Rafiki started toward him, Uhuru backed back.  "I don't think 
that's a good idea."
	"Nonsense!"  Rafiki laughed.  "I'm small but wiry!  Here, let me 
show you."
	"He's right," a lioness voice said.  "It's not a good idea."
	Rafiki turned and looked at the cloud white lioness.  Her crystal 
eyes regarded him intently.
	"Mother Minshasa!"  Rafiki fell before her, grovelled, kissed her 
paws, and then rose and hugged her neck.  "Favored child of Aiheu!"
	Minshasa touched him with her tongue.  Uhuru and Fabana could not 
see her, but they did see Rafiki leaning out at an angle, resting on 
empty air.  The fur on their backs stood on end.
	"My dearest angel," Rafiki stammered.  "When this is over, take me 
away with you.  I want to be one of your cubs.  Kiss me again, and call 
me your own, and I will bless you forever!"  He hugged her again.  "Tell 
me stories about the long-toothed lioness.  That was so sad!"
	"The drug has rattled your good sense," Minshasa said, pushing him 
with a paw.  "Get a grip on yourself."
	"Whatever you say, dearest."
	"Follow me."
	"Anywhere, my angel."
	"And that's enough of that," Minshasa said firmly.  "Try to hold 
yourself together till this is over.  Then you may sweet talk me all you 
want."
	Minshasa led him away from his friends.  She took him to a tree 
and looked up.  "From there, you will be able to see him."
	Excited, Rafiki kissed her again.  "Thank you, mother of light!"  
He climbed from branch to branch, looking through the leaves and across 
the grass.  He spotted Simba pacing in a field.  The lion was splendid 
in stature and grace, crowned with a beautiful mane.  While he had some 
of his father's looks, his face was slender and shapely like his 
mother's.  "Ooooh!"  Rafiki looked down at Minshasa who waited silently 
at the base of the tree.  "Isn't he something!"  She silently nodded.
	"Shhh!  Listen closely, Rafiki."
	Simba was talking to himself.  "She's wrong," he said.  "I can't 
go back.  What would it prove, anyway? It won't change anything. You 
can't change the past."
	"Who's wrong?" Rafiki asked Minshasa.
	"Nala.  She's asked him to come back.  Now listen!"
	Simba looked up at the stars.  "You said you'd always be there for 
me! But you're not.  And it's because of me. It's my fault. It's my 
fault!"  Simba bowed his head, choking back tears.
	"The poor thing!" Rafiki whispered.  "I must cheer him up!"  
Rafiki didn't know what to say, so he thought to break into a rhyme to 
get Simba's attention.  It was one Wandani often used in blind tag.
	"Asante sana, squash banana! We we nugu, mi mi apana!"
	Simba glanced at him, annoyed.  To have looked Simba in the eyes 
again so thrilled Rafiki that he thought he would jump out of his hide!
	Simba left, and Rafiki followed.  When the lion settled down on a 
log that crossed a small pond, Rafiki tossed a rock.  He was still good 
with his pitching, and the rock landed in the water right in front of 
him.  Rafiki hustled up a nearby tree to avoid a nasty claws-out swipe 
he felt he deserved.  But Simba only looked up.
	"Asante sana, squash banana!  We we nugu, mi mi apana!"
	"Come on," Simba said.  "Will you cut it out!"
	Rafiki laughed, jumping up and down.  "Can't cut it out.  It'll 
grow right back!"  He giggled at his own joke.  Minshasa looked up at 
him.  "When I cut it out, it won't grow back!  Now behave yourself!"
	Trying to tone himself down, Rafiki followed Simba as he left the 
log and travelled on.  Simba looked back and saw it was a mandrill and 
corban.  He decided not to act on his feelings of annoyance by turning 
his pest into a meal.
	"Creepy little monkey.  Will you stop following me?  Who are you?"
	Rafiki rushed to him.  Got right in his face.  "The question is: 
who are YOU?"
	Simba was taken aback, but he sighed.  "I thought I knew.  Now, 
I'm not so sure."
	"Well I know who you are.  Shhh.  Come here.  It's a secret."  He 
pulled Simba's head over to whisper.  "Asante sana, squash banana!  We 
we nugu, mi mi apana!"  He laughed.
	"Enough already!"  Simba looked puzzled.  "What's that supposed to 
mean, anyway?"
	"It means you are a baboon--and I'm not!"
	"I think you're a little confused."
	"Wrong!  I'm not the one who's confused.  You don't even know who 
you are!"
	Simba began to rankle.  "Oh, and I suppose you know?"
	"Sure do.  You're Mufasa's boy."  Rafiki smiled at the effect that 
had on him, and he skipped away.
	"Hey, wait!"
	Simba chased him across the grassland.  Finally he reached Rafiki 
who sat in meditation on a rock.
	"You knew my father?"
	Rafiki turned only his eyes.  "Correction.  I KNOW your father."
	Simba looked down.  Painfully he said, "I hate to tell you this, 
but...."  He caught a tear before it could show.  "....he died.  A long 
time ago."
	Rafiki became agitated.  He leaped off the rock and headed toward 
the trees.  "Nope.  Wrong again!  Ha ha ha!  He's alive!  And I'll show 
him to you.  You follow old Rafiki--he knows the way.  Come on!"
	With an energy that could only be an effect of the powerful herbs 
in his blood, the old mandrill spryly swung through, around, and over 
the branches and bushes.  Simba struggled to keep up with his large 
bulk.
	Rafiki laughed, easily outpacing the lion.  Suddenly he stopped 
and put his hand up in Simba's face.  "STOP!"
	He motioned Simba to some nearby reeds.  "Shhh!"  He parted the 
reeds and pointed with his staff.  "Look down there."
	Simba worked his way to the edge of a pool of water where he saw 
his reflection.  He peered at it intently for a moment, then sighed with 
disappointment.  "That's not my father.  That's just my reflection."
	"No," Rafiki said intently.  "Look harder."
	The mandrill made moves over the water.  He struggled to 
concentrate despite the giddiness of the drug.  His love of Simba came 
out fully and focused him.  The water rippled, breaking Simba's 
reflection into tiny bits of color.  The colors then resolved to form 
Mufasa's face.
	"You see?  He lives in you."
	Simba stared at the picture.  While he was staring spellbound, 
Rafiki took a large thorn from his staff, and gritting his teeth, jabbed 
it into his palm.  He stifled a cry as the red drops of blood fell into 
the water.
	His sacrifice was accepted.  The wind began to pick up, and upon 
the clouds came one of the Nisei--Mufasa!  He was immense, but the light 
of love in his eyes was reassuring.
	"Simba," he said quietly.
	"Father?"
	"Simba, you have forgotten me."
	Simba was wounded.  "No!  How could I?"
	Mufasa was stern.  "You have forgotten who you are, and so have 
forgotten me."  He looked a little more kindly but kept his reproachful 
tone.  "Look inside yourself, Simba.  You are more than what you have 
become.  You must take your place in the Circle of Life."
	"How can I go back?  I'm not who I used to be."
	Mufasa drew near.  The light of his love filled Simba with awe and 
grief.  "Remember who you are.  You are my son, and the one true king.  
Remember who you are."
	Mufasa began to retreat, and as he did so, his image faded.  Simba 
ran after him.
	"No!  Please!  Don't leave me!"
	"Remember," Mufasa intoned.
	"Father!"
	"Remember."
	In anguish, Simba cried, "Don't leave me!"  But it was no use.  He 
was gone.  The lion trembled.
	Rafiki drew alongside.  "What was THAT!"  He laughed.  "The 
weather.  Pfft!  Very peculiar, don't you think?"
	"Yeah.  Looks like the winds are changing."
	"Ah, change is good."
	"Yeah, but it's not easy.  I know what I have to do.  But going 
back means I'll have to face my past."  He recoiled.  "I've been running 
from it for so long."
	Rafiki looked at him with a devilish grin.  He whacked Simba on 
the head with his staff.
	"Ow!  Jeez, what was that for?"
	"It doesn't matter.  It's in the past!"  He laughed at his clever 
example.
	"Yeah, but it still hurts."
	"Oh yes, the past can hurt.  But the way I see it, you can either 
run from it, or...learn from it."  He took another swing at Simba, but 
this time the lion ducked down.  "Ha, you see!  So what are you going to 
do?"
	Simba couldn't resist the opening.  "First, I'm gonna take your 
stick."  He batted the staff out of Rafiki's hand with a sudden swipe.
	"No, no, no, no!  Not the stick!"
	When he bent down to reclaim his staff, Simba hurried off.
	"Hey, where are you going?"
	Simba shouted, "I'm going back!"
	"Good!  Go on!  Get out of here!"  He laughed, giddy with his 
success.
	Minshasa drew up next to him.  "You did it, honey tree!"
	"I did it?  We did it!"
	"Your humility serves you well."
	"Your kindness serves you well."  He hugged her around the neck.  
"Oh gods, oh gods!  Can he really set things right?"
	"Don't worry, my child."  She nuzzled him and kissed his cheek.  
"Breathe in deeply."
	Rafiki took in a deep breath.  As he did, she blew softly in his 
face.  The scent of wild honey filled his lungs, and his head began to 
clear.  "Oh, my lady, do it again!"  Rafiki took another deep breath and 
felt the odd excitement run out of him.  "Oh yes, that's better!"
	He looked down.  "All those things I said to you.  I'm so sorry.  
I mean, all that mushy goo...."
	"Look at me in the eyes when you say that," Minshasa said softly.  
"You would never say something you didn't mean because of a herb.  No, 
it just loosened your tongue more than you would have liked."  
	"Well, perhaps."
	She purred and began to nuzzle and groom his face.  "Perhaps?"
	The colored patches on Rafiki's cheeks showed a deep blush.  "My 
lady, I must remind myself that you are not an ordinary lioness."
	"There are no ordinary lionesses," Minshasa said.  "There are no 
ordinary mandrills, either."  Minshasa lay in the grass.  One last time 
she blew on him, dissolving his tensions like dry earth dissolves in 
spring rains.  "Rest here, good and faithful servant."
	Rafiki lay his head on her side and closed his eyes.  Moments 
later he fell peacefully asleep with her as a pillow, a gentle smile on 
his face.
	Uhuru and Fabana showed up.  "Hey Rafiki," he said.  "Did you see 
that lion in the clouds?"
	Minshasa looked right at them.  They caught sight of her, and 
Fabana and Uhuru fell before her and grovelled.
	"Shhh, he's asleep!" Minshasa said.  She smiled at Uhuru and made 
a kissing sign with the tip of her tongue.  "Your prayers are a warm cub 
snuggled under my chin."
	Uhuru looked at Fabana.  His eyes were shining.  "Isn't she 
wonderful, Fabana?"
	"My gods," she mouthed, but no sound came out.  



SCENE 51:  THE STRUGGLE

	The fight upon Pride Rock was a horrible thing to behold.  
Lightning flashed and thunder ripped across the sky as Rafiki sought for 
a desperate foothold.  High above him, Simba and Taka grappled, snarling 
and snapping savagely at each other as they fought for dominance.
	The two traded powerful blows, each striving to undo the other.  
Simba struck out, but Taka blocked his swing and countered, sending the 
younger lion sliding across the flat peak to the edge.
	Lightning flashed again, and Rafiki felt the air about him 
shimmering and roiling, like the air over the desert at highsun.  A 
twisting, rippling shape flitted in and out of his vision, hovering over 
Taka like a ghostly thundercloud.
	"Makei," Rafiki grated.  The ground thrummed under his feet.  
Slowly reaching up, he clapsed the makeshift locket he wore around his 
neck.  Always warm to the touch, it flared brightly now, full of its own 
inner heat as he held it in his fist.  Gripping the thong, he placed a 
rock in the pouch to weight it down and began to twirl it about his 
head, the light making a glowing circle that lit his face, the 
scintillating light flickering over his aged and lined features, now set 
in determination.
	Faster, faster he twirled it, waiting.  Simba twisted, struck by a 
heavy blow from Taka.  The line was clear to the peak.
	"Aiheu, do not fail me now!"  He released the pouch, watching as 
it shot through the air, a brilliant streak of light flashing to the 
peak....
	It intersected the billowing cloud of darkness over Taka's head 
and exploded in a shower of thunder.
	Taka twisted as he flew through the air.  Simba's feet sank into 
his belly, driving the breath from him and sending him flying over the 
edge of the peak.  Rafiki watched in horror as the lion's form dropped 
through the air to dissappear in the rocks below.
	"I am sorry, my boy," he whispered.  A cold drop splashed from his 
head, and he looked up, blinking in surprise.  A second drop fell, then 
antother, faster, faster--soon he was deluged by the gentle caress of 
rain.  Minshasa's voice rang in Rafiki's ear.  "Let us make life!"
	The old mandrill fell to his knees, hearing the hiss and sputter 
as the fires around him were quenched by the blessings of heaven.  "Even 
so, old friend!  I touch your face!"


SCENE 52: BUSA SIMBA IYO!

	Sarabi truged slowly through the downpour, tears and rain blurring 
her vision to the point she was nearly blind.  Blinking rapidly, she 
took a deep breath and fought to control herself.  Her breath shuddered 
out of her as she rounded the foot of Pride Rock slowly, glimpsing the 
other lionesses at the base.  A cream colored lioness looked up and 
brightened immediately.
	"Sassie!"  Sarafina rose and padded over to her, rubbing her cheek 
against Sarabi's.  "Are you okay?"
	"I'm fine, Fini."  Sarabi nuzzled her gently.  "Where's Nala?"
	Sarafina nodded over her shoulder.  "Over there, resting.  We're 
all waiting for Simba to come down."  Her eyes glowed as she looked at 
her friend.  "Gods, Sassie, did you see him in the fight?  He looks 
beautiful!"
	"I know."  Sarabi's voice faltered, her eyes stinging suddenly.  
"Oh, Fini, my son lives!  Praise Aiehu, he lives!"
	Sarafina rubbed Sarabi's cheek with her own.  "Look, there he is!"  
They turned to look up the slopes of Pride Rock.  Simba emerged from the 
smoke and mist, moving slowly but surely to the bottom of the path where 
the rock met the ground.  Sarabi, unable to bear it any longer, rose and 
went to him.
	He looked at her and smiled uncertainly.  "Mother?"
	"Yes?"
	"My nose hurts."
	Sarabi laughed, her tears mixing with the rain as she looked at 
the scorched spot on his muzzle.  "If that's all that's hurting you, you 
shuld count yourself lucky."  She licked his face gently with her warm, 
moist tongue and nuzzled his wet mane.  "Oh, my son, I love you so 
much."
	Simba closed his eyes, shuddering.  The words which he had thought 
he would never hear again since his father's death now rang in his ears.  
"I love you too, mother."  He smiled at her.  "I've missed you so much."
	"And we, you."  He turned to see Uzuri smiling at him, her eyes 
lidded in satisfaction.  "I told you if you listened to me and ate right 
that you'd grow up to be big and strong like your father."  She cocked 
an eyebrow and studied his lean, muscular form.  "What have you been 
eating, anyway?"
	"Don't ask."  A warm shape brushed against him, and he turned back 
to see Nala standing before him. "Beloved," she purred, nuzzling him 
firmly.
	He moved to respond, but they were interrupted by the dry rattle 
of a seed filled gourd.  They all looked to see Rafiki perched atop a 
small outcropping.  The tired old mandrill nodded at Simba and lifted 
his staff to point at the outthrust promontory of Pride Rock.
	Simba felt a wave of fear ripple through him, followed by a tingle 
of excitement.  Slowly, he moved away from his family to stand in front 
of Rafiki.  The mandrill's brown eyes looked kindly into Simba's amber 
ones.  He smiled and bowed deeply before the lion.
	Simba felt a wave of warmth drive away the dampness of the rain.  
He lifted a massive forepaw and gently draped it over Rafiki's shoulder, 
drawing the mandrill to him in an embrace.  Rafiki wrapped his arms 
around Simba's shoulders and held him for a moment, then drew away.  He 
met the lion's gaze again and nodded.
	"It is time."
	Simba returned the nod and moved away.  Placing a paw tentatively 
on the granite outcropping of the promontory, he began his ascent.
	Below, the lionesses followed his progress in awe.  "Gods forgive 
me," Isha said, "but I never thought I would live to see this day."  Her 
voice broke, and she nuzzled her young cub Habusu, crying.  "Look, Habu!  
There is your king!"  Habu stared upward, neck craned back until it 
ached, jaw gaping in delight as he watched the magnificent lion above 
him.
	Simba strode toward the end of the promontory, awash in such an 
array of emotion that it made him giddy.  Reaching the end, he looked 
down upon the hopeful faces of the lionesses below staring up at him.  
Lifting his gaze skyward, he peered at the gray clouds overhead.  The 
rain poured down on him, streaming into his ears and soaking his mane, 
but still he waited.  Abruptly, a rift opened in the clouds overhead, 
and he saw the stars burning brightly overhead in the vault of Heaven.  
A voice filled his ears, numbing his mind as he recognized it as his 
father's.
	"Remember..."
	Simba stood at the tip of the promontory, suspended halfway 
between Heaven and Earth, floating on a wave of feeling so intense he 
could barely breathe.  He felt each drop of rain as it struck him, the 
gentle breeze caressing his face, carrying upon it such a myriad of 
scents his head fairly exploded with them.  Lifting his face again, he 
closed his eyes and roared, the sound filling his soul as if God Himself 
had touched him with thunder.
	Below, Uzuri bellowed into the driving rain.  "Behold, the King!"  
She answered Simba with her own roar, the other lionesses joining her.  
He returned it tenfold, the sound echoing off the kopjes and stones.  It 
reached across the freshened plains to the mighty forests.  At last, at 
long last, Mufasa's anointed was king.
	Nala watched him descend, her eyes tracking his every move as he 
leapt gracefully to the ground.  Pacing over, Simba stood  in front of 
her, breathless, the steam rising from his body as the rain evaporated.  
As the lionesses looked on, he lifted his left forepaw and rested it 
upon Nala's shoulder, caressing it, feeling the muscles playing 
underneath the pads of his paw.  She answered with a purr from deep in 
her chest.  Looking up, she met his gaze, and their eyes locked. The 
light from the last of the rapidly dying fires gleamed in her eyes, the 
twin pools of emerald radiance holding him in an iron grip he had no 
wish to break.  Simba took a deep breath and spoke.
	"Before the gods, before the stars, before the assembled host I 
swear to give you my protection, my life, and my comfort, forever."
	Nala trembled.  "Till the last beat of my heart, to the last 
breath I sigh, our lives are one, so help me gods."  She moved close to 
him and settled her head against his mane, purring.
	Simba nuzzled her, oblivious to the pain in his scorched muzzle.  
"Until this day I have been but half a lion.  You have made me whole."
	Rafiki made the pilgrimage to the bottom of Pride Rock where 
Sarabi and Fabana sat watch over the body of Taka, washed in blood and 
rain.  He knelt beside the body.  With fumbling fingers, he reached into 
his pouch and removed a strip of jerky.  Sarabi and Fabana watched 
silently as he produced a piece of Tiko root.  He knelt by Taka's face, 
its weary features relaxed at last, and laid the two objects by his 
muzzle.  "I cannot breathe life into you now, my little boy!"  He took 
Taka's large paw between his hands and tears began to stream down his 
face, mixing with the silvery curtain of rain that drew itself around 
him.  


SCENE 53:  DIVERGENCE

	Kidnapping a lion cub, Uhuru thought disgustedly, shaking his 
head.  What next?
	He was silent as he watched Skulk and his group of rebellious 
miscrants fade into the night.  It never seems to end, he thought 
disgustedly.  One trial after another.  He half jokingly wondered if he 
was being punished for the sins of one of his long dead anscestors.
	Sighing, he shoved the thought away.  He had been true enough to 
Aiheu's calling, and he knew it.  Perhaps with the removal of Shenzi's 
malign influence, things would go back to normal.  He hoped so; Uhuru 
was sorely sick of fighting, deception, and betrayal.  The past three 
years had seen enough of that.  But it seemed an insurmountable wedge 
had been driven between the children of Roh'kash and Aiehu, and he was 
helpless against it.
	He picked up a slight movement in his peripheral vision and turned 
to see Simba making his way toward him.  Grimacing, he sat up and headed 
toward the king.  Things were about to go from bad to worse, it seemed.  
The arena-like atmosphere of the Shi'khal had dissapated, and the hyenas 
and lions stood apart, polarized around their rulers like iron filings 
near a magnet.  The noise of conversation diminished as Simba moved to 
stand in front of his group of lionesses.  The hyenas parted to make way 
for Uhuru, who nodded at them.  The two leaders contemplated each other 
silently for a moment, then Uhuru crouched, extending a forepaw before 
him.  "Incosi aka Incosi.  I touch your mane."
	Simba breathed a silent sigh of relief.  "I feel it.  Rise, my 
friend."  He blinked wearily; the events of the past several days had 
exhausted him terribly.  Still, as he looked at the hyena standing 
before him, he felt supremely satisfied; his faith had been vindicated.  
His gaze moved to the hyenas standing to either side of Uhuru.  Their 
appearance was similar in all respects; the poor creatures were slat 
sided and thin, their grey coats dull and staring.  But they now stood 
shoulder to shoulder with a hyena that they had previously denounced not 
three days ago as a traitor.  Uhuru had given them back their faith as 
well.  Unlike Shenzi's ragtag lot of hooligans, they had not sided with 
him for personal gain, but because they knew he would never betray them 
to save himself.  Uhuru had returned their capacity to trust.  Now it 
was time to give them back their hope.
	Simba cleared his throat, a deep rumbling sound that carried 
clearly.  "I say this before the gods, and the great kings of the past: 
the ban which great Ahadi placed on scavenging in the Pride Lands is 
over and done."  Eyes widened and heads turned on both sides as Simba 
continued.  "There is no reason why you cannot live as Aiheu intended."
	For a heartbeat, dead silence reigned.  Then a raucous cheer arose 
from the hyenas as they began to dance with joy.  Uhuru sat amidst the 
tumlut, struck with wonder as his brethren flocked to Simba, falling 
prone before him and humbling themselves.  "Ebu Simba," they cried 
joyfully.  "Roh'mach aka Roh'mach!"
	Rafiki clapped the hyena on the shoulder, making him jump.  
"Congratulations, my friend.  You handled Shenzi well."
	"Not as well as you did," Uhuru grinned.  "You planned that, 
didn't you?  You knew I was going to win."
	"My boy," Rafiki chuckled, "I had no idea."  The mandrill walked 
to a low hummock of grass and sat down, grunting with relief.  "So!  
What now?  What are you going to do with yourself, now that you have the 
whole of the Pride Lands on your side?"
	"I don't know, to be honest."  Uhuru looked at him.  "I really 
don't like this, Rafiki.  Simba should have chosen someone else to do 
this."
	"Why?"
	"Maybe this could all have been avoided."
	"Indeed.  We could have avoided this.  We could still be fighting 
each other.  Don't sell yourself short, Uhuru."  Rafiki rubbed his 
friend between the ears affectionately.
	Uhuru grinned at him, then glanced at the crowd.  "Look at them," 
he whispered.
	Rafiki watched the hyenas as they streamed homeward in small 
groups, the night air filled with cries of happiness as they laughed and 
joked together, whooping gaily.
	"I've not seen them like this since my childhood," Uhuru said 
wonderingly.  "You can feel it."
	"Even so.  I told you of `The Peace of Asumini.'  Your children 
will know this as the beginning of `The Peace of Uhuru.'  A wonderful 
thing has been born, tonight.  Nurture it.  Care for it like you would 
your own son."
	"I want to!  By the gods, I cannot leave my people now!  But a son 
must bear love for his father, much as I do for you."  Uhuru looked at 
the mandrill, torn with indecision.  "How can I leave you like this?  
Who will help you out at the tree?  And don't you DARE tell me you'll 
get by, Rafiki; I'll not see you out in the fields pulling roots at your 
age!"
	Rafiki laughed and patted Uhuru's back.  "Not to worry, friend.   
I'll not argue that point with you.  I have friends in the mandrill 
villages who will be willing to trade.  There are enough strong backs 
there to keep me in my medicines."
	"But-"
	"But nothing.  Aiheu has shown you your place in this world.  
Don't refuse him."  Rafiki reached out with both arms and embraced his 
friend.  "Do not fret.  You are making the right decision."  Places his 
hand atop Uhuru's head.  "Aiheu abamami, Uhuru.  God bless.  And Uhuru, 
go propose to Brill today.  There is a saying among our people: `Harvest 
while the fruit awaits.'"
	The hyena smiled.  "You read my mind!"  He turned to leave, but 
froze, staring at the last remaining hyena who stood, silently, waiting 
for him.
	Rafiki peered at the figure.  "Ah, is that her?"
      "Yes," Uhuru said, captivated.  "Isn't she beautiful?"
	Rafiki scratched his head, musing over the hyannic features.  "Er, 
ah, yes, of course.  Her beauty shines from within,"  he said 
truthfully.
      "Doesn't it?"  Uhuru agreed.  He padded over to Brill, nuzzling 
her on the cheek.  She returned his caresses, then leaned on his 
shoulder, her head tucked under his.  Rafiki watched as the two walked 
slowly away, their shapes fading into the darkness.


CHAPTER 54:  FEELING HIS AGE

	Life returned to some semblance of normality in the Pride Lands.  
Simba and Nala had a son named Tanabi.  He married his childhood friend 
Misha, and not surprisingly, she was soon ready to kindle the next 
generation.
	Rafiki, by contrast, still lived alone, and his premature aging, 
like a cheetah, was making a swift rush to its victim.  Only his skill 
in pharmacology kept him active and alert.
	The early morning mists rested lightly upon the African plain, the 
soft gray blanket rolling gently across the land, broken here and there 
by the jutting crowns of the great trees.  One such tree in particular, 
a huge baobab, dominated its surroundings, seeming to watch over the 
countryside with a monarch's benevolence.
	Rafiki sat quietly in its uppermost branches, cleaning his teeth 
with the frayed end of an acacia twig as he waited for the dawn.  His 
eyes peered interestedly out over the otherworldly landscape which lay 
before him, sensing the frenzied hum of activity hidden in the mists 
below, waiting patiently with the sure knowledge of one who has stood 
such guard many times, a wizened steward of the land keeping careful 
watch over his wards.
	The air around him was filled with the reddish gold of sunrise as 
the fiery orb made its appearance, bathing the land below in its warm 
rays.  A gentle breeze ruffled his brow, setting the leaves around him 
to rustling.  He smiled to himself as he listened to them, talking 
amongst themselves about the funny old mandrill in their secret leaf 
language.  Peering below, he watched with interest as the breeze tore 
great rents in the mists, opening holes through which he could see clear 
down to the ground below.
	He leaned forward, eyes focusing sharply as he caught signs of 
movement. Rafiki smiled and relaxed as he recognized the group of 
lionesses, weary and footsore as they padded slowly home after the 
night's hunt.  Lifting his gaze, he looked out over the thinning mists 
to the outthrust shape of Pride Rock, its massive shape looming in the 
distance.  They had quite a way to go, yet; it would probably be well 
into midmorning before they arrived, he thought.
	He clambered slowly down the branches to his home in the heart of 
the baobab, hearing the soft tinkle and clink of his wood and bone wind 
chimes as they swayed in the breeze.  Humming a little ditty in time to 
the sound, he wandered over to the small shrine set in a niche in the 
bole of the tree.  Picking up a small bowl of ochre, he began to daub 
gently at the half finished portrait of Habusu, adding the fringes of a 
reddish mane to the head and shoulders.  He paused for a moment, 
uncertain, then sighed, setting down the bowl and dusting off his 
fingers.  His heart was not into painting, today, and he had no wish to 
botch the job with a half-hearted attempt.  He gazed around the baobab, 
feeling suddenly lost, the warm tinkling of the chimes now a lost and 
lonely sound, reflecting what he felt inside.
	He felt so old.  What he had tried to deny to himself was too 
obvious to ignore.  He was not just old on the outside, and the time was 
not too distant when Minshasa would come and take him away with her.
	He blinked suddenly as a guttural grunt sounded from below.  
Peering down, he saw a lioness sitting under his tree.  Rafiki smiled as 
he recognized Uzuri peering upwards at him.  "Hello, madam."
	"Good morning, Rafiki!  Up early again, eh?"
	"As always."  He nodded to her.  "How did you fare last night?"
	"Pfft!"  She snorted.  "A waste of time; we saw only a few 
gazelle, and they must have had cheetah blood in them somewhere."  She 
shook her head.  "Gods, they were fast!"
	He chuckled.  "Not to worry, I'm sure you'll fare better next 
time."
	"Are you still going to come by and check on Misha?"
	"Yes, of course."
	"Why don't you come with me, then?  It's a long journey to make by 
yourself, and I would certainly enjoy the company."  She looked at him 
inquiringly.  "Unless you've got something else to do?  I don't want to 
interrupt anything important."
	A smile lit his face as he picked up his staff and descended to 
stand next to her.  "You twisted my arm."
	She smiled at him as they began to move off.  "It's one of those 
days that makes you happy just to be alive." 
	He looked at his friend and nodded.  "Yes.  I know what you mean." 
As they made their way slowly along, he mentally berated himself for 
being so gloomy.  There had been a time, he thought ruefully, when he 
could count friends like Uzuri on the fingers of one hand, and beautiful 
mornings like this had been few and far between.



SCENE 55:  MAKEDDE'S REST

	Once Makedde said he prayed he would not die on a rainy day, but 
that he would go on a beautiful day.  He wanted to die with reminders of 
Aiheu's beauty to comfort those he left behind.
	Indeed, just as the sun gilded the perfumed grass, and the wind 
swept the trees to wordless melody, Zazu came flying to Rafiki's tree 
with urgency in every word.  "Come quick, your brother's dying!"
	Rafiki grabbed a gourd with painkillers, but took nothing else.  
There was no need.  This was an expected death, one that crept on its 
victim with the determination of wild dogs on a blood trail.
	He ran as quickly as he could, which was not very fast.  His 
pulses pounded, and beads of sweat popped up on his aging brow.  Still, 
he pressed himself to make the effort.  He knew his brother would do the 
same for him.
	By the time he got to Makedde's cave, the old mandrill was lying 
still on a bed of fresh hay gathered by a friend.  The hay smelled like 
a morning meadow, masking the dampness of the cave.  Still there was 
another lingering smell--the smell of death.  Perhaps only a shaman like 
himself could smell it, but it was unmistakable.
	"Is he dead?" Rafiki asked Zazu.
	Makedde opened his eyes.  "Not yet."  He reached out weakly with 
his hand.  Rafiki took it.  "I knew you'd come."  He smiled.  "Zazu 
didn't get you out of bed, did he?"  Makedde's head fell over and hand 
went limp.
	"Oh no," Rafiki said, giving the limp hand a little squeeze and 
putting it softly on his brother's chest.  "Oh no."  Tears welled up in 
his eyes.  "He was the last of my family.  Now I am all that's left," 
Rafiki told Zazu.
	"The last of your family?  Don't be ridiculous.  I mean there's 
Simba, Nala, Misha, and don't forget Uzuri."
	"Or you?"
	Zazu preened his wing feathers.  "Well yes, actually.  And I'm 
sure you could think of others too."
	Rafiki mused over this later as he sat up in the top of his 
baobab.  He smiled to himself, fresh tears tracking down his face as he 
thought of the other members of his family, long gone in the past.  
Busara's visage sprang up, then his mother's.  Kinara, ever complaining 
about old Maloki.  Asumini, Penda...he sighed deeply.
	Cool light flared at his back, and he turned to see a cub sitting 
in front of him.  The fact that the cub was hanging in mid air sixty 
feet off the ground was irrelevant as he recognized the features.  
"Taka!"
	A smile appeared on Taka's face as he rubbed against Rafiki's 
ankles.  "Hello, Uncle."
	Reflexively, Rafiki felt at the pouch for his side, then stopped 
himself.  It had been ages since he last had a use for it; what use had 
an old mandrill now for....
	His throat closed as his palm slipped around the Tiko root in the 
pouch.  He withdrew it, his hand trembling.
	The reaction was immediate.  The cub sat upright, haunches splayed 
against nothingness as he fought to keep his balance.
	"Who do you love?" Rafiki whispered.
	"You, Uncle `Fiki."
	"How much do you love me?"
	"More than life."
	Rafiki dropped the snack and Taka snapped it up.  "I really do, 
you know, no matter what I may have said!"  Tears began to run down his 
cheeks.  "Please forgive me!"
	"Of course I do, Fru Fru," he said, stroking the soft fur of 
Taka's face lovingly.  "You don't have to hide from me."
	The cub bowed his head.  The light flared again, brighter this 
time.  Rafiki squinted, unable to make out the features.  "Taka?"
	A wave of feeling washed over him as the light touched his face. 
"How could you still love me?"  
	"I always saw that light.  It got buried deeper and deeper through 
the years, but never so deep that I couldn't see it."
	The light shifted for a moment, then coalesced into the familiar 
form of the lion.  His once dark mane now shone, shot through with 
brilliant strands of light as he looked at Rafiki. "Service," he said.  
"I am here to serve, and through service find growth and peace."  He 
stepped forward and nuzzled Rafiki.  "You are ripe with knowledge, 
Rafiki.  It is time for you to bear fruit."
	"I don't understand."
	"The bond between Ka and flesh is strong, but it cannot last 
forever.  You must seek out someone to pass on your wisdom to, before it 
is lost to the winds."
	"I tried!  I tried, but Aiheu had other plans for Uhuru.  He has 
found his place."  Tears threatened Rafiki again, and he wiped them 
away.  "I have no one else."
	"I do not speak of the hyena.  The tree of knowledge starts at the 
roots; try looking there first."  Taka smiled at him.  "You will find 
the fields  much more fertile than when you left."  He reached out and 
placed a paw on Rafiki's shoulder.  "It is imperative you not be hasty 
to accept unwanted advice.  Be brave in making the hard decision.  
Respect the first impression."  He withdrew slowly.  "I must go, Uncle.  
You have tarried too long with me.  Return to your home."
	"Go now?"
	"Yes, now.  Hurry."
	Rafiki straightened up, blinking.  The leaves of his tree swayed 
gently as he shook off the effects of the vision.
	"Rafiki?"
	"Who calls?"
	"Misha."
	At the very mention of that name, Rafiki lit up like the sun. The 
lioness came to his entranceway.  "I had an accident."
	It was only a small cut on her shoulder, but when Rafiki saw it, 
he was very pained.  Misha saw his tear stained face.
	"Come now, it's not that bad.  I almost didn't come."
	"Not the cut, my dear.  I just...."  He put his arms around her 
neck and kissed her cheek.  "I just needed a friend tonight.  My brother 
died today."
	Her ears laid back.  "I'm so sorry."
	"Thank you.  It was expected, you know.  I guess they will say the 
same thing about me someday: `the old ape had to go sometime.'  I can 
remember your great grandfather.  He was my dear friend and to you a 
worthy ancestor."
	"I don't know whether to envy you or pity you," she said frankly.  
"Who wants to outlive all their friends?"  She looked at the tears that 
started in his eyes and regretted saying it.  Nuzzling him, she asked 
"Why won't you come live with us at Pride Rock?  It may seem a little 
crowded at first, but we all love you.  You know I have invited you many 
times."
	"And I have thanked you many times."
	Her face drew down in a frown.  "You are going to say no again, 
aren't you?"
	"My dear little Misha.  My work takes me into the forest.  I would 
never get my herbs if I lived there.  I have a place for everything, and 
everything in its place.  Such as it is, this tree has been my home for 
most of my life.  Most likely I shall die here."  He kissed her.  
"Still, every time you ask me, I feel warm inside."
	"Then I must ask more often."
	He quickly retrieved some heal-all and crushed it into a paste.  
This he put on the wound with all the care he could muster.  "There, 
that should feel better."
	"It sure does."  She touched his cheek with her warm tongue.
	"Take care of yourself, honey tree," Rafiki said.
	"I'm not in a hurry," she replied.  "Sit down.  We'll talk."
	With a smile that made his old face beautiful, he sat cross-legged 
on the ground.  She came and laid her large, shapely head in his lap.  
Tears of grief and love flowed freely as he stroked her soft fur.


CHAPTER 56:  THE OLD NEIGHBORHOOD

	Rafiki was not afraid of death, but he felt his own mortality 
stalking him.  Someday it would spring and he would be cut down, and he 
must find someone to carry on his work.
	He decided to go home for the first time since he left many years 
ago.  He would return to the scenes of his youth and find what little of 
his past is left to him.  And while he was there, he would look for the 
future.  He took a gourd and hung it near his entrance.  The moon 
painted on it said "I am away," and from it he hung five small bundles 
of grass.  One would mean "back momentarily."  Two would mean "returning 
later today."  Three meant, "try again tomorrow."  The message of five 
was unmistakable.  "I will return someday, God willing."
	Taking only his staff and a few herbs for his back pains, he left 
his home in the baobab.
	The herbs he needed grew in the edge of the forest, but it had 
been a long time since he immersed himself in the dense trees.  The 
light was dim, and fell in small golden patches around him that shifted 
drunkenly in the wind.  Huge trunks like columns bore a roof of verdant 
leaves.  It took him a moment to find where he was.
	The path had changed some, but it brought back many old memories.  
Rafiki found himself deeply stirred.  Crossing a stream where he used to 
play as a child, he reached in and got a small flat rock.  He pulled 
back his hand, and unhampered by age gave it a quick snap, skipping it 
once, twice, and again across the water.  "Still got it," he muttered 
with satisfaction.  He went and sat on the bank in the spot where his 
father had talked with him about the facts of life.  Much of the anger 
that he had carried for years was gone.  He was left with the good 
memories of a kind father that loved his family.
	After a rather long walk, he finally got back to the village where 
he was born.  With a smile of fond recognition, he looked at the 
clearing, and at the lone acacia that stood in the center.  One of the 
females was pounding roots with a stone.  Another was nursing an infant 
and gossiping with her companion.  Young were running about, playing 
tag.  "Asante sana, squash banana!  We we nugu, me me apana!"  Once he 
had been one of those.
	He stopped to talk with one of the females.  One after another of 
the friends he asked about was dead.  Chango's son was still there, as 
was a nephew of Bugweto.  Duma, who had once terrorized him, was a pale 
shadow of his former self.  He didn't recognize Rafiki, but as his son 
said, "Some days he does not recognize me.  Today is not one of his 
better days."  Pity surged in Rafiki.  He tried hard not to associate 
the trembling, drooling specter with his childhood arch enemy.
	Most never heard of, Rafiki, even though he used his old name.  
Finally he saw his old friend Wandani.
	Wandani came up to the strange mandrill, still looking rather 
young.  "Sir, can I help you find something?"
	"Don't you sir me, Wandani!  What's the matter--don't you know 
your best friend?"
	Wandani looked at him carefully.  His eyes misted up.  "Oh my 
gods!"  He reached out and touched the snow white whiskers and looked at 
the wrinkled face.  "Metutu, what happened?"
	"Is that any way to greet an old friend?"
	"I'm sorry!"  Wandani hugged him firmly, stroking his back and 
patting his shoulder.  "Metutu, I didn't realize how long it had been!  
My dear friend!"  He wept.
	"It does my heart good to see you again."
	"Same here.  So how is Asumini?  How many children did you have?"
	"You mean you don't know?"  The freshness of the pain surprised 
Rafiki as the tears welled up in his eyes.  "She died after the first 
year.  My daughter Penda too.  It was a crocodile."
	Wandani gasped, bit his lip, and began to sob.  "Oh no!"  He 
hugged Rafiki so tightly he could hardly breathe.  "Forgive me, but I 
must tell you I was in love with her."
	"Why didn't you tell me?"
	"It doesn't matter.  She never returned my feelings.  Oh gods!  
Not my little Asumini!"
	"Rafiki Wandani.  My dear old friend.  How many times I've 
wondered what happened to you."
	Wandani struggled to regain his composure.  "Well, let's see.  
Your brother Makoko died about three years ago of blood fever.  His son 
Kudura is now in charge.  Of course your dad is long gone, but you would 
have expected that."
	Wandani took Rafiki to the spot where his father died.  "Here we 
buried his totem, right next to the effigy of Kima.  It was his wish.  
Now some wanted to destroy it because he was an Aiheuist.  It's still 
not a safe philosophy, but it's not actually illegal anymore.  It's 
beginning to spread, too."
	Rafiki smiled.  "That's what Busara said.  He knew what he was 
talking about."
	Next Rafiki passed by the tree where he had grown up.  It still 
stood much as it had then.  But there was a different home that called 
to him, one that had briefly been a refuge from the harshness of the 
world.
	The cave was unoccupied.  He and Wandani felt their way back into 
the dark recess as far as they dared.  The few remaining lamps were long 
dried and withered.  He had never even reached the stone column where he 
had first pledged his life to Aiheu.
	Suddenly there was a soft blue light.  They looked about, 
startled.  "Asumini?"
	The lioness purred.  "Honey tree, welcome home.  Hello Wandani!"
	"It's her!" Wandani said, shaking.  "The ghost!"
	"She's quite nice when you get to know her."  Rafiki knelt and 
hugged her.  "Oh it's good to see you again!  Has it been so far to 
travel that you won't drop by?"
	"You don't need me.  Most of my crowd are dead, so there's not 
much left to hold me to this world.  But my love for you is deathless."  
She nuzzled him.  "Take the cord from around my neck."
	It was the tooth that Busara had worn--her own canine on a cord 
braided from Ahadi's mane.  Rafiki pointed to himself, and she nodded.  
He slipped the cord around his neck.
	"Now when you are lonely for me, I will be next to your heart.  
But don't live in the past.  As I have been to Busara, Uzuri has been to 
you.  Appreciate what Aiheu has given you."
	"I know, but I shall not forget you."
	She nodded her head.  Suddenly the lights twinkled to life.  It 
was as if Busara had only just stepped out.  Glad for the light, Rafiki 
walked on past the pillar of stone and looked at the wall.  Busara's 
paintings called to him with messages both pious and joyful.  But they 
were also reminders of a happy time that had long since fled.  He knelt 
down and looked at the painting that represented himself.  Next to him 
was young Asumini, and their hands were joined.  Rafiki reached out with 
his fingertips and brushed them lightly over Asumini.  "My wife, my 
lover, my dear friend."  He looked at Wandani, a melancholy smile on his 
face.  "I am fast growing old.  Someday when my people are free, you 
must bring them here and show them these paintings.  Tell them about 
Busara.  Tell them that death itself could not destroy the work of 
Aiheu."
	"If not me, I promise I will send my son."
	"What is his name?"
	"Metutu, of course."


CHAPTER 57:  THE COUNCIL'S CHOICE

	"Now when Baba who was the first lion breathed upon the cheek of 
Mamaan, she kindled new life.  After two moons, she began to show, and 
they did not understand the light in her eyes.  In fear, Mamaan called 
upon Aiheu to heal her.
	"Aiheu only smiled and said, `Surely you will not die.  Be of good 
cheer, for you will bring life into the world.'
	"Baba and Mamaan did not understand, for there had been no cubs 
before.  But their trust was in God, and they endured the suffering of 
birth expecting what the Lord had promised them.
	"And when the two were born who were the firstborn of lions, they 
gladdened the hearts of their parents.  The male was named Huba, for he 
was born of love.  The female was Rajua, for she was the promise of 
hope.
	"Aiheu came to see the cubs and to teach Baba and Mamaan the ways 
of parenthood.  He also strictly charged them that what he taught should 
be passed down through the generations, father to son and mother to 
daughter.  And so it is done to this day according to the will of God."

                    -- LEONID SAGA, "A" SECTION, VARIATION 3


	Rafiki's fame had come to the attention of the council.  So he had 
little trouble getting an appointment with the elders.  They were 
curious to see him, if for no other reason then to ask him about the 
mysterious new cures he'd discovered.
	All Rafiki wanted was look for a successor.  He fell before the 
Chief Kudura.  "Unworthy am I."
	"I call thee worthy.  Arise, Rafiki."  Kudura said, "We have 
considered your request.  Among us is a youth who is bright and full of 
the fire to learn.  I present Tambo."
	Tambo and his young brother Makaka stood before Rafiki.  "Great 
Shaman," he said, "I have studied long and hard.  Test me according to 
your great wisdom.  See if I may help you and learn from you."
	"He's really good," Makaka said.  "He's a hard worker too."
	Tambo frowned.  "Speak when you're spoken to.  This is a Council 
meeting!"
	Rafiki looked long and hard at Tambo, then he glanced at his 
younger brother.  "So little fellow, you say he's a hard worker?"
	"Yes sir."
	"Look at me right in the eyes, son."
	Makaka looked into Rafiki's eyes.  "Oh my," Rafiki said.  The old 
shaman looked at Tambo again.  The older brother was getting impatient.  
"Aren't you going to ask me any questions, sir?"
	"I just did."  Rafiki scratched his whiskers.  "You answered 
honestly and completely."  Then he rested his hand on Makaka's head.  
"My boy, do you know what a lion is?"
	"Yes sir."
	"Do you want to meet a REAL lion?"
	"Yes sir."
	"How would you like to come live with me?"
	Makaka smiled shyly.  "Do you mean I can come too?"
	"No, I mean just you.  To become the next Shaman to the King?"
	"Oh neat!"
	The council members were scandalized by this choice.  Kudura 
silenced their chatter with a sweep of his hand.  "Are you sure?"
	"I am sure, my lord.  The sign is upon him."
	Kudura had been hoping Tambo would be chosen.  Tambo owed his 
status to his agreement with the chief on practically every issue.  And 
he could be counted upon to come back with reports of the strange goings 
on.  Such as the use of powdered Alba and of scrying with sepal root.  
But Kudura could not let his feelings be detected and he kept his 
pleasant but enigmatic smile.  "Let us have a short recess while I 
consider your request."
	Rafiki is escorted a short distance away while the council members 
carry on an animated discussion.  Rafiki knew not to take the council's 
recommendation lightly, especially after what had happened to his 
father.
	Kudura himself came to him.  "I would speak with you privately, 
old whitebeard.  You presume much because you are my uncle.  I think you 
want to take all your secrets back with you, but if you are to have the 
boy, you must answer me one thing.  You were the son of Kinara, and 
destined to be chief.  You gave up power for something else.  To these 
followers of mine, I have everything that can be desired.  But do not 
hold out on me.  Tell me about this great thing that was worth more than 
being chief."
	Rafiki smiled and presumed to place his arm around the chief's 
shoulder.  It reminded him of a similar question he once asked Busara.  
"I have had thorns through my heart.  I have held up cubs soft and 
tenderly and watched them grow old and wither like grass.  I have bound 
up wounds and pulled roots till my hands were callused.  Sleep have I 
lost, and many meals have I forgone.  My wife and child have I lost.  My 
youth was stolen before I had enjoyed it.  Still, when I am loved, I am 
loved more than you could ever imagine.  Your kind of power can inspire 
fear and respect, but it cannot bring you what I have found.  You must 
seek that on other paths."
	Kudura looked at him in wonder.  "Honestly spoken.  I cannot be 
angry with such candor.  I feel more noble just from looking at you."
	Rafiki bowed.  "I feel more noble just listening to you, my great 
nephew."
	"Don't flatter me, Rafiki.  There is no flattery in my words.  It 
is too late for me, but if you had taken me when I was Makaka's age, it 
would have been different."


CHAPTER 58:  FACE TO FACE


		Come sisters through the embracing grass.
		Sunlight shouts, but moonlight whispers.
		Mysteries abound in the shadows
		And uncertainty stalks the savanna.

		Earth mother, gently support me, conceal me.  
		Wind giver, misty clouds, breathe into my face.  
		Take my fragrance away from the fleet gazelle
		And grant me my heart's desire.

                     -- WIMBOA SIMBAKE (SONG OF THE LIONESS)


	As Rafiki and Makaka reached the border of the savanna, Makaka 
felt apprehensive.  "Will they like me?"
	"Sure they will.  I liked you from the moment we met."
	"It's so open here--all this grass."
	"It exalts the spirit.  You must see the sun rise from Pride 
Rock."
	"Is that your house?"
	"Yes."
	"Can I have my own room?"
	"If you wish."
	"Can I go home to visit once in a while?"
	"Sure you can.  I wish I had.  But after a while you will realize 
you are home.  Home is where you are loved."
	"When will I meet a real lion?"
	"In a few moments.  I see her coming now."
	"Where?  Where??"
	"Over there.  Don't be afraid.  You'll become use to it."
	Makaka looked up, way up.  His knees began to buckle.  Rafiki put 
his steadying hand behind his back to keep him from falling over.
	The large head of the huntress drew near.  Makaka could smell the 
warm moisture of her breath, the mild scent of her fur.  The large eyes 
were fixed on him.  
	"Please don't hurt me."
	"I won't."  Uzuri smiled and pushed forward, nuzzling him gently.  
Then she touched his cheek with her large tongue.
	Makaka gathered a little strength and took a good look at her. 
	"Isn't she beautiful!" he told Rafiki.  He was almost afraid to 
make the remark directly to her.  Then when she nuzzled him again, he 
asked, "May I?"
	He realized his hope, putting his arms around her strong neck.  
"Oh, your fur is so soft!  Oh, this is so wonderful!  You even smell 
good!  Can I come home with you?"
	Uzuri looked at Rafiki.  "Got any more like him?"
	Rafiki chuckled softly.  "I think you've made another conquest."
	Without fear, Makaka looked right into Uzuri's soft eyes.  She 
smiled gently and so did he.  "What's your name?"
	"Uzuri."
	He bowed awkwardly.  "Makaka," he said.  "Glad to meet you, 
Uzuri."
	"So I gathered."  She rubbed his cheek with her paw with 
surprising gentleness.  "And I'm very glad to meet you, Makaka."
	"Can I see you again?"
	"Any time."
	"Where can I find you?"
	"Don't worry.  I'll find you."
	With only a mild rustle, Uzuri disappeared into the grass.
	"Wow," Makaka said.  "I was right next to a real lioness!"
	"You were right next to seven real lionesses."
	Makaka looked around nervously.  "Seven?"
	"That I counted, anyhow.  Don't worry.  You're safe.  In fact, 
you're safer now than you've ever been before."
	When they departed, Makaka was talking non-stop about her.  "Are 
all lions like her?"
	"No two are alike.  Just like us, they are all different."
	"I mean nice like her."
	"Well, more or less.  Fact is, if you were an antelope you might 
not like her as much."
	"I should think not," Makaka said with a nervous laugh.  "Those 
were really big teeth.  Big!"
	"Yes.  But when she carries cubs by the nape of the neck, she 
doesn't leave a scratch.  It's not what your mouth looks like, but what 
you do with it that makes you dangerous.  My old teacher was killed by a 
single word from a mandrill just like you."
	"Was it a magic word?"
	"No.  It was a thoughtless word.  That is the worst kind."
	"Does Uzuri like me?"
	"I think she really likes you," Rafiki said.
	"That's nice.  I'd hate to mess with her."
	"I don't just mean you're safe.  I mean she really likes you, and 
she will miss you when you part.  She doesn't usually take to someone 
right off.  Maybe you're special."
	Makaka grinned broadly.  "I'm glad.  I really like her too.  She's 
really special."
	"When you stop to think about it, everyone is really special," 
Rafiki said.  "But you made me very proud today.  I took a great risk 
turning down the council's choice.  The gods pointed to you."  Rafiki 
stroked his whiskers.  "But don't let it go to your head, you hear me?  
The gods did not choose you so much for what you have done, but what you 
are expected to do."
	"And what is that?"
	"What you did today.  Spread your love around.  I'll tell you 
friend, there are herbs I give out in small amounts.  A little bit will 
do wonders.  Too much may kill.  But love is always best given in large 
doses and often.  I can teach you how to use herbs, but only God can 
teach you to love.  That's why I did not pick your brother.  Among other 
reasons."
	Makaka was now part of Rafiki's job so he would have to meet 
everyone.  Pride Rock stood before them like a monument to nature's 
immense power.  The sheer size of it took Makaka's breath away.
	"Can we get closer?"
	"We're going to climb it."
	They took the winding path up to the cave.  At the door, he met 
Zazu who said, "Greetings, Master Makaka.  Welcome to the Pride Lands!"
	"Thanks.  Who is the big lion?"
	"That is King Simba and next to him is Queen Nala."
	Makaka fell to the ground and crawled toward Simba face down the 
way he would before the chief elder saying, "Unworthy am I!  Unworthy am 
I!"
	Simba smiled.  "Little one, you can't be that unworthy or you 
wouldn't be here."
	Makaka kept his forehead to the floor waiting for the signal to 
rise.  Simba did not understand.  
	Finally after several awkward moments, Rafiki came forward and 
whispered something in Makaka's ear.  The young mandrill looked up 
timidly and said, "I touch your mane."
	"I feel it."
	"Really?"  Innocently, Makaka came forward and reached out to feel 
of the long, soft fur.  He looked at Nala and smiled.  "Gee, you're 
pretty."
	Nala purred and touched Makaka's cheek with her paw.  "You're 
cute."
	Makaka smiled, embarrassed.  But as soon as he felt he'd paid his 
respects, he went back to Uzuri, putting his hand on her shoulder.
	Later, he went out on the promontory.  "Here is where the great 
kings come in to their estate."
	Makaka went to the tip of the rock and looked down.  The height 
scared him for a moment--it was much higher than any tree he'd ever 
climbed.  Then he gathered his strength, drew in a deep breath and went, 
"Rrrwawwrr!"
	Rafiki said, "You'll have to do better than that if you want to be 
King of Pride Rock someday."
	Makaka set his eyes.  He drew in a very deep breath and opened his 
mouth.  Suddenly an earth-shaking roar nearly sends Rafiki into a panic.  
He looked around and saw Uzuri, a mischievous grin on her face.


CHAPTER 59:  UZURI AND MAKAKA

	Uzuri came to think of Makaka almost as her own cub.  She looked 
after him, gave Rafiki loads of unsolicited advice on taking care of 
him, and every chance she got she mothered him.  Makaka responded in 
kind.  In fact, he practically worshipped her.
	That's why she ended up telling him stories of the old times, of 
the gods and the customs.  Because from her came the undiluted leonine 
viewpoint.  She was the authority after all, being somewhat fond of her 
culture.  Rafiki contented himself with teaching Makaka the ceremonial  
and pharmacological arts.
	Once when Uzuri was talking with Makaka, she told him about 
tracks.  "When they are close, an animal was moving slowly.  When far 
apart, it was moving quickly.  How deep they are tells you how heavy the 
animal is.  Even sometimes if it is male or female.  The point is you 
can tell much about an animal from the tracks it leaves.  If you would 
know about Aiheu, look at his tracks.  He has marked this land and 
everyone in it.  When I look at you, I see his wisdom and beauty, so I 
have no excuse for ignorance of God."
	Makaka kissed her.  He yawned, tired from a long time listening to 
stories.  Snuggling down, he curled up with her as a pillow for his 
head.  Uzuri tenderly draped her paw over the child.  Rafiki came 
looking for him and found him asleep next to Uzuri.
	"Be very quiet," she said.  "He's asleep.  A little too much 
folklore, I suppose."
	"If he doesn't learn his herb medicine, it will be all your 
fault."  Rafiki was being friendly, but a little reproachful.
	"If he doesn't have love, his medicine will have no heart."
	"Well met," Rafiki said with an approving nod.  He knelt down by 
her and said quietly, "The boy needs a mother.  I try to care for him, 
but I cannot be a mother."
	"He must eat with you.  I know nothing about such things."
	"Agreed.  That and his herbal lore.  All else I give you.  
Frankly, I envy the child."
	"I can see that.  He has powers I can feel, but not understand."
	"Not the powers," Rafiki said.  He tugged at his chin whiskers.  
"Sometimes old Rafiki gets sad and feels sick inside.  I don't want to 
be young again, but I long to feel my mother's kind arms around me.  No 
one else made me feel that safe and contented--except you."
	Uzuri looked at him with her soft eyes and gently purred.

CHAPTER 60:  TURN BACK THE SUN

	Makaka looked with great interest at the paintings inside the 
baobab tree.  "What's that?  It looks like an eye."
	"That's the eye of Aiheu, watching out for us."
	"Look at those monkeys.  That's you and me, and who's this?"
	"Well, that's me, but this is my wife and here is my daughter."
	"Where are they?"
	Rafiki drew his fingertips across the picture.  "They're in heaven 
with God."
	"You miss them?"
	"All the time."  He reached into a small hollow and pulled out a 
carved wooden ball.  "This belonged to my daughter.  Her name was 
Penda."
	Makaka handled the ball.  A strange look came over his face.  
"Whether it's a boy or a girl, it will be beloved."
	"I always suspected you could read markers."   He handed Makaka 
Asumini's digging stick.
	Makaka ran his fingers over it.  "Jasmine does not do well in 
direct sunlight."  He fingered the point and a pained look came over his 
face, and not because he pricked himself.  He began to cry.  "Give me 
back my daughter!  Oh gods, don't let it kill her!  Metutu, help us!"
	He began gasping.  He was having an asthma attack.  Rafiki grabbed 
away the stick and looked for Chi'pim.  A few deep breaths of the 
strong, musky odor settled Makaka.  But it took a long time of holding 
him close to stop his tears.  "Oh my precious boy!  Such a kind little 
heart!"
	There would be no more experimenting with markers that day.  In 
fact to be safe there were no more lessons in medicine or ceremonies.  
Rafiki sent Makaka to Uzuri to listen to her stories.
	Makaka loved her.  In fact, his love for her was so deep that it 
surprised those who saw them together.  And Uzuri returned that love.  
It was clear that they were for all practical purposes mother and son.
	The grief Makaka felt passed, and soon he was joking with her, 
trying to catch the tuft on her tail, and having a good time.  Uzuri 
found that she did not have to tell stories to keep his attention, 
though they enjoyed listening to the tales of long ago.
	One story of Uzuri happened not so long ago.  She chose it out of 
love.
	"Once there was a mandrill named Metutu.  That meant `plain one' 
for his face was not very beautiful nor was it very ugly.  But inside he 
had a great beauty that was plain to anyone who looked with the heart.
	"He came from a place far away in the forest to this very rock.  
Queen Akase was going to be a mother to twin sons, but she woke one 
morning in great pain and fever.  Her friends told her that she would 
not have her sons.  In fact, she was so sick they thought she would die.  
Then along came Metutu who looked at the sadness of Akase and her 
husband King Ahadi.  And he decided that he must save the mother and her 
two cubs no matter what.
	"He walked under the stars of night and prayed hard with his face 
to the ground.  And an angel came and brought him magic herbs that would 
save Akase and her cubs.
	"King Ahadi was so grateful that he kissed Metutu and gave him a 
new name.  Now he's called Rafiki, which means friend."
	Makaka smiled.  "Tell me about Asumini and Penda."
	Uzuri looked a little upset, but she checked her emotions.  "I 
didn't know them for very long, but they were both good people.  Maybe 
if you ask your Uncle about the leopardess he threw nuts at, he might 
smile.  That's when you can get him to talk."
	"The leopardess?  Is that a funny story?"
	"Yes, and worse, it's true!  You'll embarrass him, but at least he 
won't cry."
	Makaka yawned and stretched.  It was time for his nap, something 
he coveted every second of snuggled against her soft fur.  His eyes 
looked up and he saw Uzuri turn to look back.  His warm smile had the 
usual effect of starting a bath, something he always enjoyed more than 
Togo and Kombi ever did.  Makaka took nothing for granted, and he found 
the joy in everything he did.  But he felt suddenly as if something was 
wrong.  Very wrong.  
	"Uzuri, stop!"
	"What's wrong?"
	"I'm not sure, but I have to see Rafiki."
	"You're just having a panic attack."
	"No, it's real.  I'm sure."  He kisses her.  "I'll be back, I 
promise!"
	With his heart in his mouth, he ran as fast as his short legs 
would carry him across the broad savanna.  Gasping for air, he was 
heedless of snakes, a flock of noisy guinea fowl, or even a vulture 
picking at a carcass.
	Worn down, he finally stumbles into the baobab.  "Rafiki!  Come 
quick!  I need your help!"
	Rafiki was lying on the floor, curled up in a ball.
	"Rafiki, wake up!"  He shakes the limp mandrill, but there is no 
response.  "Wake up!  For the Gods' sake!"  Begins to panic.  He grabs 
an owl quill.  Holding the tip in front of his nose, the shaft did not 
twitch.  He held the small tuft of down fluff on the base of the feather 
in front of his nostrils.  There was a very slight stirring.
	Makaka went to the door.  "Uzuri!  Anybody!  Help!  Can anyone 
hear me??  Oh gods, can anyone hear me??"
	He began to sob.  "Don't leave me, Uncle!  Don't leave me!"  There 
was a gourd of Bonewort lying shattered beside him.  It was his usual 
medication--it had never affected him that way before.  He held up some 
of the herbs.  There was something else in there as well.  A small 
strand of a brighter green that he could not recognize.  Rafiki had 
evidently poisoned himself, but with what, Makaka had no idea.
	"Oh gods, please help us!  Aiheu, if you can hear me, please don't 
let him die!  Please!"
	Makaka realized he nearly spent his nap time blissfully curled up 
on Uzuri's side.  He fell over Rafiki and began to sob again.  He knew 
he'd never put the herbs in the gourds himself.  Though he gathered 
herbs, Rafiki always checked them before he put them in the gourds.  He 
racked his brains for one small hint of what to do.  He tried to stop 
crying, but he couldn't.  "Oh gods, please help us!"  Makaka's breathing 
began to be labored.  His stress had triggered an asthma attack.
	"Not now!"  He had to keep his courage up and fight it if Rafiki 
was to live.  
	Makaka bowed his head to the ground.  "Mano, protect him!  
Minshasa, comfort him!  Aiheu, save him!  Please, if you can hear me, 
somebody help him!"
	The wind shifted unexpectedly from the North to the West.  The 
smell of wild honey came wafting into the baobab tree.  As he breathed 
in the fragrance deeply, he relaxed.  It opened his lungs, numbed his 
pain and made him very calm, collected.  His hands began to glow softly.
	"Who are you?  What are you?  What are you doing to me?"  Makaka 
took in another deep breath of the honey fragrance and let it out 
slowly.  With that breath, his fear leaked out.  He took his hands and 
for lack of other ideas tried placing them on Rafiki.  A tingling went 
out through his fingertips and palms.  He felt like strength was flowing 
into Rafiki.
	Rafiki took in a sudden gasp.  His eyes popped open.  "What 
happened?"
	Makaka grabbed him about the neck and hugged him so tightly that 
he almost choked.
	Rafiki kissed him.  "I had left my body.  I was floating above, 
looking down on myself.  I remember saying, `Oh gods, send my Makaka to 
help me.'  And you came.  Somehow I knew you'd come."


CHAPTER 61:  MAKAKA'S COOL PERIOD

	Makaka was anxious to play with someone roughly his own size.  
While Togo and Kombi were not quite his size, at least they played 
roughly.
	"Hey, fellows!" Makaka said.
	"Yo, Makaka.  Wanna play?"
	"Gee, that would be swell!"
	Togo looked at Kombi.  "Is he speaking in simian?"
	"I don't think so.  We have a serious problem here."
	Kombi felt of Makaka's forehead.  "Stick out your tongue, Master 
Makaka."
	"Aaaah."
	"Now belch!"
	"Buuurrrrrp!"
	Kombi said, "Uhhh!  Gross!  I love it!  There's hope."
	Togo shook his head.  "I'm not so sure.  Walk around, Makaka."
	Worriedly, Makaka paced back and forth.  He watched Togo's long 
face.  "What's wrong with the way I walk?"
	"That's not walking, it's just going from place to place.  We have 
to perscribe some therepy.  It's the only humane thing to do."
	Kombi put his paw on Makaka's shoulder and gave it a reassuring 
pat.  "Leave it to the doctor.  He'll clue you in."
	Togo stretched, letting his claws snap out full length, then 
yawned.  "OK, first of all, I want four in the floor!"
	"Drop down," Kombi said.
	"Now do like this."  He started forward with a syncopated slide.  
"A one and a two and a one-two-three.  If you wanna be cool, gotta walk 
like me.  Keep your chin turned up and maintain your pace, or your not 
really walkin, you're just a changin your place."
	Makaka put his heart into it.  "A one and a two and a one-two-
three!"
	"More bounce," Kombi said.  "Keep a slinky slide that's the mark 
of the pride.  Oh baby, you're cookin now!"
	"Gee!  This feels swell!"
	Togo abruptly stopped and Makaka ran right into him.  "Let's do 
something about that `swell' thing!  This is a full-blown cultural 
emergency!"
	Kombi said, "Repeat after me.  Cooool!"
	"Cooool!"
	"All right!"
	"All right!"
	Kombi began to smile.  "Can you dig it!"
	"Can you dig it!"
	"He learns fast!"  Kombi said, "This one takes real effort."  He 
held up his paw and, being quick on the uptake, Makaka high-fived him.
	"How does that feel, ape dude??"
	"Gee, it feels swell!"
	Kombi shot Togo a pained glance.  "I hate to see the little guy 
suffer.  Cancel all my other appointments."
	Meanwhile, Togo and Kombi's mother was getting her stiff shoulder 
rubbed by Rafiki.  Uzuri half closed her eyes and purred as the 
mandrill's skilled hands massaged the pain away.
	"Today Makaka ground his own Campa root," Rafiki said.  "You know, 
that boy is headed for great things.  When I was his age, I was out 
playing with my friends.  He's probably saying his morning prayers right 
now."
	"I don't know about that," Uzuri said.  "Children have to be 
children.  They're not just small adults.  I give him love--and that's 
not to say that you don't--and you give him wisdom.  But he needs to get 
out and play.  And I don't mean alone.  He needs to learn from other 
young and growing minds.  He needs to burn off excess energy.  He needs 
to have a life."
	"And you don't think he has one?"
	"I didn't say that.  I only meant that everyone needs to do some 
service, but they all have to be served too.  Makaka is a child.  He 
needs a childhood."
	Rafiki put his hands under Uzuri's ears and began to rub in little 
circles.  She purred again, closing her eyes.  "Oh yes!" she murmured.
	"You make a valid point, old girl.  Maybe I forget sometimes how 
it felt to be young.  Do you think the cubs would accept him?"
	"All right!" Kombi shouted.  "We've created another masterpiece!"
	"Too cool!" Togo answered.
	"Just gotta get with the program," Makaka said, slinking about 
with a swaggering flip of his tail.  "Cool isn't a thing, it's a way of 
life."
	"It just gets me right here," Togo said, patting his chest.  
"Another soul snatched from the jaws of utter geek-dom."
	Later that day Rafiki returned, tired but refreshed by his time 
with Uzuri.  "Hello, Makaka."
	"Yo, daddy-o."
	"Huh?"
	"You look beat, dude.  Why don't you chill while I raid the 
pantry."
	"Chill?"  He watched the way Makaka slinked to the cache of fruit.  
"Is there something wrong with your legs?"
	"Man, my dogs are barking!  You know what they say--sometimes 
life's a...."
	Rafiki clapped his hand over Makaka's mouth.  "TOGO!!  KOMBI!!"



CHAPTER 62:  DIETARY REQUIREMENTS

	"Aiheu showed them that the earth was large but not boundless, and 
offered them a choice:  "You may choose amongst yourselves who will be 
fruitful and continue the line, or you may choose to be treated alike, 
and I shall decide how to limit your numbers."
	There was only a short discussion before they answered, saying:  
"My Lord, we are brothers and cannot deny others what we desire for 
ourselves."  In those days, their love for one another was fresh, for 
they were equal as spirit children and none oppressed the other.
	Aiheu smiled upon them, saying: "There is wisdom in compassion.  
You shall all be fruitful, but you will face challenges from your own 
people and from other peoples."
	Aiheu seperated them into two groups, and one group dwarfed the 
other.  "To the greater group, I give the plants of the field and the 
fruits of the trees.  But lest you strip the earth of all green things 
with your offspring, I give the lesser group a taste for blood.  To them 
I give the eaters of plants."
	Some of the plant eaters were upset and cried out to God that they 
should not all die.  To this, Aiheu answered, "I offer you to the 
hunters, but they must catch you first.  Be vigilant, wise, and careful, 
and you will not perish from the land I give you."
	For a while life was fearful for the hunter and the hunted, but as 
the seasons passed they discovered new pleasures, and from them new 
life.  And only then did they fully appreciate the wonder of their 
existance.

           -- THE LEONINE STORY OF BEGINNINGS, VARIATION C-7-A


	Rafiki and Makaka heard the climax of a hunt very close to the 
baobab.  Makaka is stunned; he was seeing his friends in a new light; he 
knew they hunted for a living, but he'd never seen a kill in all its 
gory detail before.
	Makaka turned to Rafiki.  "They are so gentle sometimes."
	"So are you.  You must the creation, when Aiheu offered a choice 
to all living things, and all of them agreed that this way was better 
than the alternatives.  We all live, love, and die.  We are all children 
of the same God, and when we do what we are called to do, we return to 
him, all reaching the same destination and the same joy.  There will be 
no room in a heart full of love and wonder for hard feelings."
	Makaka headed over to join the fray.  Quickly he grabbed a piece 
of meat and bit down.  As he chewed, his face screwed up in displeasure.  
But unwilling to spit it out, he continued to chew slowly.
	"Good, isn't it?" one of the cubs said.  Makaka nodded his head, 
swallowed hard, and went back to Rafiki.
	"Ugh!"  He stuck out his tongue as if it had been burned.  The 
moist, musky smell filled his breath as he breathed out, and flooded his 
throat, emanating from his red-flecked face.  "Eeew!  Do you have any 
Tiko root?"  
	Rafiki got some from a gourd.  He handed a piece to Makaka who 
chewed it rapidly, filling his breath with the rich minty aroma that 
took the smell of raw meat away and settled his stomach.  
	"They like this stuff?"
	"Love it.  Still, you were very brave.  I don't think I could have 
swallowed that stuff--not raw, anyhow."  
	He kept chewing the Tiko root.  "Oh yeah.  That's much better.  
May I have some water to wash it down?"
	Uzuri came over bearing a piece of meat with a broad smile on her 
face.  "This is the best part.  It was hard to get this away from those 
greedy gusses."
	"You did this for me?" Makaka said.
	"It was no trouble.  Not for my special little boy."
	Makaka looked at her expectant smile.  He picked up the piece of 
meat and without hesitation took a large bite.  "Thanks so much," he 
said, a little drop of warm blood running down his cheek.  
	Uzuri is pleased.  "My boy is going to grow up big and strong 
eating like that!"
	He came and put his arms around her neck, stroking her soft fur.  
Makaka's heart was so full of love, he forgot to feel sick.


CHAPTER 63:  MOURNING BECOMES HER

	Uzuri had been depressed since the mantlement of Togo and Kombi.  
For that reason Habusu was sure he was bearing the most wonderful news.  
He rushed quickly to find the hunt mistress.
	"Guess what, Uzuri!  I just saw Togo and Kombi!"
	"You did?  Where??"
	"Right next to the Pride Lands!  They are our neighbors now.  They 
took over their own kingdom when Ugas died.  How about that!  Now you 
can sneak down and see them whenever you want."
	"Yes," she said, a little weak in the knees.  "I see."
	"I knew you'd be thrilled."
	"Yes, of course."  Uzuri's jaw began to tremble, and tears filled 
her eyes.  She ran off quickly rather than be seen in that state.  She 
knew the only place where she could go and find understanding in her 
predicament, and she headed at once for Rafiki's baobab, running across 
the savanna without a single pause to rest.
	Rafiki was looking into his scrying bowl.  Without even looking 
up, he said, "Come in, Uzuri.  I've been expecting you."
	She looked at the bowl of water.  "Just how much do you know?"
	"I knew you would come by."
	"And how about Ugas.  Is he?"
	"Yes, he is."  Rafiki looked at her face with some concern.  "So 
you found out today, did you?"
	"Habusu told me."  Trying to maintain her perpetual dignity, Uzuri 
seated herself, head erect even in grief, and only her tail tip betrayed 
her inner struggle.  "I want you to help me.  This is secret--tell no 
one.  Ugas, my husband, must be mourned."
	"Of course."
	"I want you to come with me.  My heart is heavy, and I have no one 
I can tell.  I need someone, Rafiki, as once you needed me."
	"What an honor," he said, putting his hand over her paw and giving 
it a little squeeze.  Her regal demeanor was well-kept, but Rafiki knew 
how she must feel inside.
	"Uzuri," he shyly ventured, "Ugas was my good friend.  He spoke 
often of you.  He would ask me about Togo and Kombi.  Too bad he never 
met them--his own sons."
	"It was too bad," she agreed tonelessly.
	Rafiki worried about all the pent-up grief she carried.  "Where do 
you want to hold the ceremony?"
	"Our special place.  The bank of the stream that runs along the 
border of our kingdoms.  There is a patch of reeds there.  We would meet 
there at times."
	"I know."
	"He told you?  Did you know him that well?"
	"Very well."  Rafiki watched the tip of her tail twitch.  Her 
stare was regal but rigid and forced.  His heart went out to her.  "I'll 
keep your secret, but you must keep mine.  I have a little something for 
you."  
	He reached in a gourd and pulled out a lock of golden fur.  "I 
brought this back for my shrine."  Presenting it to her, he watched her 
quivering nostrils smell the old fragrance.
	Her trembling paw reached out and stroked the lock of mane.  Her 
eyes welled up with tears and she bent to face the ground.  "Ugas," she 
stammered.  "My beloved Ugas!"
	Rafiki took the liberty of putting his arms around her strong, 
shapely neck and held her to his breast.  She leaned her head on his 
shoulder lightly. 
	"Uzuri, how it breaks my heart to see your grief.  I know what 
it's like to lose a mate.  I will pray for you day and night."
	"You're a good friend," Uzuri said quietly.  "I knew you would 
understand."
	That was the closest Uzuri came to telling Rafiki she loved him 
too, and the mandrill gave her a little squeeze.  "You were always a 
queen to me.  You always will be."
	Uzuri, as soon as she regained her composure, said, "Until high 
moon."  She pulled herself erect, walked with regal dignity out of the 
baobab, and bid him farewell.
	Rafiki was nervous.  He had wanted to arrange the service a little 
earlier, for there was a danger ahead, and the "special place" would be 
used for other matters.
	He stuck a stick straight into the ground.  As the moon's shadow 
shortened, he watched the midmoon hour approach.  "Please, o gods, let 
us get this over with before it's too late."
	As if in answer to his prayers, Uzuri came a little early.  She 
stalked in somberly and for this brief time set aside her reserved 
manner.  Ugas was dead, and she would not want his spirit to look down 
on her and find her cold.
	"Oh, Ugas!  Oh gods, my husband, my lover, my heart!  He's dead!"
	Tears began to stream down her face.  She wanted to roar, but 
dared not.  Instead, she nestled in the sanctuary of Rafiki's arms and 
sobbed.
	"That wonderful lion!  That kind and gentle soul!  What little 
time we spent together made me more noble, more grand just for having 
loved him!  And let me tell you, Rafiki, more important than his breath 
on my cheek was being there with him.  He was caring, with a voice as 
warm as a good nuzzle, and a nuzzle as warm as the sun.  Sometimes we 
would just lie side by side, and I would smell the honest fragrance of 
his mane against my cheek.  He always made me feel special and 
beautiful.  The last time we made love, he said--"  Tears began to 
stream down her face and she looked at the ground unable to control 
herself.
	"What did he say?"
	"He looked at me sadly and said `Love me as if it was for the last 
time.'"  The words stung Rafiki, and he put his arms around her neck, 
kissing her around the face.
	"My poor girl!  My poor little girl!  It will get better with 
time.  You will never be the same, but you will learn to live with the 
loss, as I have."
	Uzuri looked around and touched Rafiki's face with her warm 
tongue.  "I was right.  You do understand."
	At that painful moment, another lioness showed up--Barata.  Rafiki 
sighed.
	"What is she doing here?" Uzuri asked curtly.
	"Uzuri, dearest, try not to be too upset."
	Uzuri went to Barata who was embarassed and intimidated by the 
wrath of the hunt mistress.  "You are here because of him, aren't you??"
	"He had an affair with you too?  I didn't know!  I swear I didn't 
know!"
	"Affair??  He was my husband!"
	"You never told me!"  Barata rolled over on the ground.  "I swear, 
Uzuri, I would never have cheated on you.  It was only once, and it was 
many moons ago.  Oh gods, I love you!  You're my pride sister!  I'm 
sorry!"
	Uzuri nuzzled her.  "Get up, friend.  I should have gone to be 
with him.  I left him alone, and I can understand how this might 
happen."  She tilted her head puzzled.  "Still, I always thought you 
never had an interest in--you know."
	"Just because I never got pregnant didn't mean I never...."  She 
glanced over at Rafiki.  "You know."
	Ajenti poked her head through the bushes.  She saw the other two 
lionesses and gasped.  "Oh my gods!"
	Isha pushed past her.  She looked appraisingly at the other 
lionesses.  And shook her head.  "I knew I wasn't the only one, but I 
underestimated the old boy."
	"Watch what you say about my husband!" Uzuri spit.
	"Your husband??" Isha said.
	"Your husband??" Ajenti chimed.
	Rafiki held up his hands and tried to begin the ceremony.  "Death 
has struck down our friend Ugas.  Let us remember him as a brave lion, a 
good lion, whose heart was full of love...."
	"Yeah, you can say that again!" Ajenti quipped.
	Isha nodded assent.  "He was Bango's father.  And I must admit he 
was a good lion--quite good."
	"Yes," Sarafina said.  "He was good, wasn't he?"
	"Sarafina?  You too?"
	Rafiki stood helplessly as the lionesses began to compare their 
relationships.
	"I couldn't imagine you'd like him," Sarafina told Isha.  "I like 
a comfortable routine, but you would have gone crazy.  The same old 
thing every time."
	"Never the same thing twice!" Isha said.  "Are we talking about 
the same Ugas?"
	"And his sense of humor," Sarafina said.  "He always told the 
funniest jokes.  Most of them don't bear repeating in public, but there 
was this great one about the elephant and the rhino that would kill 
you!"
	"Jokes??"  Uzuri was outraged.  "That somber, powerful and tragic 
lion of destiny??"
	Barata said, "It seems he sized us up like prey.  He chose a 
different approach with each of us.  Sisters, we were had!"
	"It was worth it," Sarafina said.
	"I learned a few things," Isha said.
	"Now ladies," Rafiki said forcefully.  When he got their 
attention, he lowered his voice to some semblance of dignity.  "He meant 
a lot to you all, and we honor his life.  He was devoted to his extended 
family, he had enough love to go around, and he died the way he lived, 
doing what he loved best."
	"It must have been `Old Number Four.'" Isha said.  "That will do 
it if you have a weak heart."
	Rafiki shook his head.  "Ladies, put aside your judgment.  He was 
with us for a time, now he is gone.  Let us remember that whatever else 
he was, he was a child of Aiheu, a compassionate lion, a fair lion, a 
wise ruler, and for me a dear and gentle friend.  And we will all miss 
him.  His first wife died of Babesa, very horribly.  His second wife was 
killed in a hunting accident.  After that, he was always afraid of 
commitment.  He was, as Uzuri saw so plainly, a very tragic lion who had 
known much suffering.  The comfort you brought him was the only good 
thing to brighten his long and lonely life.  Out of love, he wanted you 
by his side, but out of love he sent you away to keep you safe from 
harm.  Now from the stars he looks down and sees your sad faces.  Now he 
is no longer afraid to love you with his whole heart."
	They all roar, then start bawling.  It felt good to be able to 
share that hidden grief with a friend, and they huddled together as they 
wept.
	The moon drifted ever onward, and by ones and twos the lionesses 
left to return to Pride Rock and try to sleep.  Finally Uzuri had Rafiki 
alone and she clearly had unanswered questions.
	"Why, Rafiki?  If this is true, why did Ugas marry me?"
	"So your children would be legitimate heirs to reign after him.  
You see, you are the very image of his second wife.  He often called her 
Kamba--`Honey Tree.'"
	"He would call me that when he...."  She looked at Makaka and 
paused.  "You know....at the height of passion."  Her eyes filled with 
tears.  "Oh gods!  Bless his precious old heart!  That poor, sad lion!"
	Quiet except for her sobs, she turned and wandered slowly into the 
night to be alone.  
	Makaka pulled at Rafiki's arm.  "That's so sad.  We ought to say a 
prayer for her."
	"We will."
	"And we ought to say a prayer for him and his other two wives."
	"There were no other wives," Rafiki said.  "But you must never 
tell another soul that.  Especially not Uzuri."
	"You told a lie?"
	"In her case, it was the only merciful thing to do."
	Makaka looked puzzled.  "What's Old Number Four?"
	Rafiki patted him on the back.  "Isha promised to tell me someday-
-when I'm old enough."


CHAPTER 64:  SUNSET

	"I tell you he's smiling.  And well he might smile.  His life will 
be easy and free from pain, at least if I have any say over it."

                                       -- CHIEF KINARA

	Makaka was too quick to hurry up the side of Pride Rock.  It 
triggered an asthma attack, and Rafiki nervously rummaged through his 
medications in the wan light of dusk looking for silver vein mint.  He 
was only sure by the smell, and when he crushed a few leaves and held 
them under Makaka's nose, the youth began to settle down and breathe 
deeply.
	"I can carry you back down, but I can't carry you to the top."
	"Let's go on up.  I can make it."
	With more caution and reserve, Makaka went up the shaft of stone 
to the tip, followed by Rafiki.
	"You need to be more careful," Rafiki said, taking his seat on the 
end of the shaft.
	Makaka sat next to him.  "I'll try.  Well, some of the time."
	"What does that mean?"
	"I was just thinking."  Makaka paused for a long time.  "You know, 
it's like Minshasa told me.  I was safer in the village, but I'm happier 
here."
	"I must admit I'm happier with you here."
	He put an arm around Rafiki.  "I love you too."
	As they sat together, the African Sunset came to its climax, the 
red orb of the sun wavering as it sank below the horizon.  Overhead in 
the afterglow a few stars winked into the purple sky, watching over the 
land and its peoples.  A lioness came and sat next to them quietly.  
Makaka scooted over to her and slipped his arms around her plush, strong 
neck.  Uzuri touched the child with her warm, pink tongue.  Then she 
looked over at Rafiki.  "It's you I came to see."
	"Me?"
	"Yes.  Makaka can wait in the cave."  She sent the child away with 
a gentle pat of her paw, then twitched her head for Rafiki to come 
closer.  "You are tired, honey tree.  This world has worn you thin.  I 
can almost see the moonlight through you."
	"We're none of us getting younger, old girl."
	"How well I know."  Her eyes, old but still alert, met his.  
"There is not much time between sunrise and sunset.  If you would not be 
caught out after dark, you must leave some time to do all the important 
things."
	Rafiki put his hand over her paw.  "Do not talk of sunsets, my 
dear.  I've seen more than my share."
	"Don't make this harder than it has to be."  Uzuri sighed deeply.  
"I slipped in the hunt tonight.  A hoof nearly caught me in the cheek.  
For one moment I looked death in the face."
	"Uzuri, dearest!"  He gave her paw a squeeze.  "You must be more 
careful.  Don't put a thorn in my heart.  You, Makaka, and Misha are the 
reasons I go on living.  You must never die."
	"Someday we all must die, but I have things I need to say before I 
go.  Important things."
	"Is it what I think it is?"
	"I hope so."  She touched him with her warm tongue and looked 
penetratingly into his eyes.  "I love you, Rafiki."
	"Oh Uzuri!"  Tears of joy began to stream down his face.  He 
reached out and fondled her strong, soft neck and felt the gentle rhythm 
of her heart.  "I love you too."


THE END:  THE SPIRIT QUEST