Survival in the Velds -- Part 2

Click here for Part-1 of "Survival in the Velds"

"Quick. Shoo the children away with you. Take shelter somewhere. Go!", Zumba hissed. "You take care Zumba", Salya said and ran with the children. "You also. Go. This is my battle. I don’t want to see any of you in harm", he growled at his consorts.  "No master. You won us. We will be with you till our last breath, or your last breath", the consorts growled back in unison.

"Hello. Zumba. Father-murderer!", Po'El shouted.

"Face me Po'El! Why shout miles away? Afraid?"

"Of course not, dear. Sorry for keeping you waiting. The rule is to give a warning. You saw the warning yesterday noon. So, you've lived 18 hours at my expense. I'm good at math and geography. You'll have to pay for this", he growled as he was walking near Zumba.

He remembered his battles. The one with his father, where he inherited the land. The one with Taanoi, where he won 5 lionesses -- including Salya. "This is going to be tough", he muttered to himself.

"Mutter to me!", Po'El roared as he pounced over Zumba with lightning speed.

One blow to the left, another to the right and then attack his neck!

Po'El was flawless in his attack technique. But Zumba had anticipated the last move and covered his neck.

"Good. So now we go for round two", Po'El panted.

"Now its my turn!", Zumba roared with all his might and slapped Po'El hard. He nearly displaced his jaw. In a distance a man in a brown tent was shooting this on his HD camera -- 2 naked males were fighting while 6 naked females watching with delight. "My God! Gruesome! This indeed is Africa!", he muttered with glee.

The fight lasted for 15 minutes. The final blow was delivered by Po'El. Zumba's neck was slashed open, his groin muscles were hanging like loose flesh. Zumba bled to death. A gruesome one, indeed.

Po'El licked his nails. "Warm", he muttered. Zumba's consorts were helpless. Po'El had won them. "In the line. Now!", Po'El roared. The 4 of them lined behind 6 of Po'El's consorts. "The kids? The kids! This male had kids! Where are they?"

"This way", one of Zumba's ex-consorts guided Po'El to impress him. Po'El kissed him hard, licked the insides of her mouth and whispered, "You and me tonight". She blushed. She was the new favorite  of the master.

"Well, well", Po'El muttered. Salya was shocked to find him here. The children were playing nearby. Salya pounced over him, and he slapped her hard. She fell off a short ledge. "Aren't they cute? What's your name?", he growled. "Don't kill them, Po'El! I'll do as I say! They don't even know how to talk!", she cried.

"You'll anyways do as I say! And for the kids? Rules are rules, dear. I'm merely diminishing any future possibilities of usurping", he joyously growled as he dug his teeth deep into the children's necks -- one by one. All the children could do was meow. He slapped the bodies hard, to ensure that they were really dead. He then jumped off the ledge and made way for Salya.

"Why invade our territory? Isn't your land good enough?", she growled. "No dear. The land is verdant with lots to feed on. In fact, so much that 5 generations could live on it! But, I needed more", he remarked. "Did you kill Z. . u. . m. . ba?", she asked in a shaky tone. "Had to. He was very brave, relentless. It's been years since I've fought a male like him", he honestly replied. She felt elated. She turned away and started walking.

"Ahem. Where are you going?", he asked. "Does it matter?", she asked him. "Rules are rules, right?", he said. It suddenly struck him. Zumba had won her from Taanoi, and now Po'El had won her from Zumba. She could do nothing. She was not a commodity. She was more. She was a trophy. His trophy.

She was helpless. She did not know that she could end this agony, not by killing him -- that she could not in her wildest dreams -- but by killing herself. She did not know the concept of suicide, lest she would have jumped off the highest cliff and got away from all of it. "My babies. My cute, little babies", Salya quietly cried beside Po'El who was fast asleep. Zumba died an honorable death. 

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Some companions have four legs

Dogs. From those cute little Chihuahuas to the hefty boxers to the slender Shepherds; they're all adorable. Nicknamed "a man's best friend", they truly live up to it. They know the language of love -- unconditional love, love that does not consume but sacrifices everything. There are millions in this world who pet one dog or the other, some pet dozens. They say, you need to pet  a dog to know what it is to be with a dog. I agree with that. We may pet dogs for various reasons -- heartbreak, the idea of feeling wanted, reciprocation of love, fantasy, competition, show-off, fun, and more. But, dogs let us pet them for only one reason and they expect only one thing from us. The answer for the former is love, while for the latter is care.

Dogs can be the most funny creatures. You just need an observant eye. At times, you can catch them running behind their own fluffy tails! While at other times, they'll bark at their reflections (remember the story where the dog loses his bone because he barked at his reflection in the pond?). You go to dog shows and see all kinds of dogs, exquisite to raw to elegant. And there we will have some dogs who troll and photobomb other dogs just the way we would do at parties! You see those dogs who've been with their masters long enough to imitate them in their own ways (have you noticed how some dogs sit on their master's couches and don't budge a bit?). Ya ya, I have some photos (which I scrapped from random sites) to prove the points in this entire article (including those mentioned in this paragraph!) so just scroll through!

Some dogs are trained to bring newspapers, sit, run, bite, shit at right places, etc. While some dogs are trained to be the eyes of other people! Shepherds are trained to be the eyes of the visually challenged. Those dogs efficiently guide their blind masters throughout the city, while some have reported to have saved them from accidents and apartment-fires!  Some dogs are trained to be life-savers. Take St. Bernard for example. Those fluffy large dogs sniff out victims of avalanche from the debris and dig them out to give them a new lease of life. Man does things for a reason. What reason does the dog have to save strangers, the strangers who'll not even give St. Bernard a cookie in return? Training is one reason. But the answer is partially right. Training is useless without perseverance and the will to act.

Talking of training, some dogs are trained to utilize their olfactory senses to their optimum level. They're trained to be sniffers. Remember those movies where the leashed dog sniffs a piece of cloth and roams the entire town to find the heroine, only to let the hero take all the credits of finding  her? Remember the dog from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's "The sign of four"? Remember the movie scenes where they show dogs sniff out bombs, and RDX? Yes. All these have distinct smells, and they're relentlessly trained to identify a chemical based on its scent and report it by barking incessantly. These dogs are placed in bomb squads and inevitably become family with the bomb-squads! So much is the attachment that the bomb squad arranges for a military cremation with full honors for their departed companion.

Tears run from my bulgy eyes as I type this. No, I don't have a dog. But, I've petted stray ones outside the street. I've caught myself tapping their heads slowly and then suddenly miss a beat -- only to see their expectant eyes shut waiting for the beat which never came. But, why in the world am I typing all of this? What's the use? There will be anyways instances of atrocities committed on those mute creatures by both individuals and the agencies (govt. and pvt.), for reason as silly as loitering around without a leash. I've seen dogs run over by bikes, incarcerated in small  cages, rendered sterile unhygienically, earflaps sliced, and more. Nevertheless, they are our heroes 

(mine, at least!). They are our companions. Companions on four legs.

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