Wildlife

It is the season of the hot months in the Serengeti when the parched throats of animals run their brains amock: both predator and prey suppressed by the master predator; The drought.

In the undergrowth is Chilolo studying the wizened frame of a once-graceful gazelle grazing on dust;

Chilolo had remained in this crouching position for a while: considering his options before the chase. This, because in the time of drought, every chase must be worth the while knowing that energy is scarce.
After a while of considering his options, Chilolo sprang from the thicket and gave feeble chase. The gazelle could hardly start off before Chilolo caught it in the jugular and dragged it off to a shelter.
'Sniff, struggle, feeble-wiggle' - it did a feeble jiggle before gasping its last.
Teeth still in jugular, the blood oozed into Chilolo's dry throat quenching his blood thirst and temporarily satisfying the thirst that arose from the pseudo-chase he had given.

Four jackals standing by watching Chilolo drag away the now-lifeless body of the gazelle sprang after the leopard, trailing in their scraggy hide, which had further been worsened by drought induced alopecia. Chilolo glanced off his side-eyes as he noticed the pack. Quickly doubling his leap, he expended non-existent energy until he could run no more. Sadly taking a chunk or two, he ran off before the jackals closed in.
On getting to the carcass, the jackals howled 'HOO-HOO' in 'jackalous' happiness and settled down to meat when the roar of the lion caught them mid-chow. Scurrying off like ferrets the jackals ran off in mock-cry boo-ing, 'BOO-HOO' as they ran.

The lion arrived the scene in stately manner, flexed its tawny hide- stretched thin to reveal rib lines and started to tear the dispossesed body of Chilolo's gazelle: Chilolo and all the other jackals spitefully watching the scene.

Chilolo sat in a corner of the wild, under the scattered shade of a wilting tree: the tear-lines of a leopards eternal cry running down his face and his bulging sides billowing fast to recover wasted energy. He watched as the lion devoured his catch and as he sat there in the wild in the heat of that Serengeti drought, he asked the same question many of us have asked forever,

WHO EATS THE LION?