A Treaty in Jungle

Clover beat a hasty retreat to his pack. His mother Black-eyes was sorely disappointed with him. Clover like his mother, belonged to a pack of hyenas. They numbered around ten. Black-eyes was dreaming of handing over the pack’s leadership to Clover when she becomes too old. But it seems he has a long way to go as yet. He had just now put his life as well as the very existence of his pack in peril by his senseless act. Clover was still seething in rage. He knew his anger would do him no good. He had earned the wrath of his mother. Now this will only provide unwanted displeasure amongst the ranks. He had enough in them who would do anything to be in his place. Clover looked at the cause of his anger. Jabbar, the fearsome cheetah. What angered him was Jabbar had let go a prized gazelle. Had he killed him and had his fill, then Clover and his pack could have closed in on the remains. Ankur, the handsome gazelle in question was badly wounded and Jabbar had chosen to abandon him. And Clover’s expectation for a great meal was far from realized as he watched Ankur’s tribe close ranks on him. His idea to attack the wounded gazelle with his pack was not possible. In his rage he did something foolish. He dared to bark and display his anger at his fearsome foe. Jabbar in return had lunged for him. Had it not been for his quick reflexes Clover would have been dead.

Clover hated and feared Jabbar. But he knew, like the rest of his pack, that they were fated to follow the likes of Jabbar in their hunts. Jabber’s every hunt had provided for his pack fully, sometimes even for a few days. Clover had seen him stalk and hunt his prey. And in his memory this cheetah was the fastest thing on four legs that he had ever set his eyes upon in this jungle. Black-eyes knew this and more. She had seen Jabbar since he was born. Now this territory belonged to him. Earlier it was even better, though tough. Jabbar’s mother Sheena had marked this territory for herself. It was here that she bore her four cubs. Now only he remained. Sheena and the others had left him much earlier. They had left, soon after Jabbar and his siblings had presented the spoils of their first hunt to their mother. They were fifteen months old. Now Jabbar was almost two years old and a full-grown cheetah.

Handsome and fearless he had never looked back since his first hunt. And every hunt he had turned more accurate, more deadly. Clearly Black-eyes held Jabbar in a very high esteem. She knew that he had inherited all his excellent traits from his mother. He had a whole lot of hunting left. Black-eyes had designated him as her pack’s provider. She knew that in her time the pack would be fully provided for, thanks to this predator. But what

she saw now in Jabbar did not please her. Her eyes were on him as he rolled lazily under the shade of the huge Banyan tree. Of late he did not seem much interested in his hunts. That baby Zebra wasn’t much anyway, just a bag of bones. And after he had had his fill there was practically nothing left for Black-eyes and her pack. She knew the signs when she saw it. It must be the only reason. Jabbar must be entering his first season. If so then he might soon leave this place. Of course, he will return. It was his territory, his mother’s heritage to him. He feared no one, not even Sylvia, the Queen of this jungle.

Royal, fearless, bold, majestic, Sylvia was a proud mother of three cubs. Though an undisputed queen, she was very tough to handle. A temperamental hunter like all lions, she hunted only for her cubs and herself and so whatever she brought home was quickly devoured by her ever-hungry cubs. Nothing was ever left behind for Black-eyes and her pack. Black-eyes had long abandoned the idea of hijacking Sylvia’s hunt. Sylvia was merciless in where the interests of her cubs were concerned. She had inflicted a heavy blow on Sheena by killing one of her cubs that had strayed over. Sheena had mourned for her dead cub for three days and two nights, non-stop.

Even Jabbar knew about Sylvia. As a six-month old cub, he had watched her kill his brother and feed him to her cubs. And those were the days when he feared Sylvia. Now he didn’t much care about her. Of course he did try his might on her and found her equally fearsome as him. That’s when he realized that all mothers were like Sheena where their cubs were concerned. One dare not antagonize them. Black-eyes knew this by experience and so knew that even though after Jabbar, Sylvia was her only hope, she knew that she cannot expect much from her. In that case she may be forced to take the pack elsewhere until such time Jabbar returns to his favorite haunt. Understandably Black-eyes’ troubled gaze was on Jabbar as he lazed in the shade.

Life in the jungle is never an easy one for any of its inhabitants. Black-eyes was not the only one who was disturbed in the past few days. Jabbar’s eyes were troubled. He did not get any pleasure in his regular hunts. He felt the need to get away for a few days as he was feeling excessively lonely for the past few days. What held him until now lay in a heap, a few hundred yards away. It had a shiny coat, liquid black eyes and two powerful horns. It was called Ankur. It was a gazelle and the best in his clan numbering more than two hundred. Its an impressive number and was led by a single patriarch whom they all knew as

Old-Horns. Old-Horns was a good leader and managed to keep the tribe together without much accident. But all this meant nothing to Jabbar as he knew most of these gazelles will fall prey to him. He knew he was the fastest. As he lay watching the tribe led by Old-Horns, he thought about the wounded gazelle. That sprightly Ankur was made of an altogether different material. This huge group of gazelles had always been here on these plains and jungles ever since he remembered. As a cub he had watched Ankur. When he had tried to go near it, Jabbar was chased away by Ankur’s father. Ever since, he had watched his mother hunt these long-limbed, long-horned creatures. Of course Sheena had offered the dead father and mother of that silly gazelle as food for him and his siblings.

Ankur was different in every way. He had grown up to be fast and agile in his limbs. He was a very handsome gazelle, a very good dodger, and a pleasure to chase. Every time Jabbar targeted Ankur, he had the mirth of a good chase. He had to strain every muscle in his body and soon the chase would heat up. That gazelle had survived for so long just because of his skill dodge and his quick sliver reflexes, driving Jabbar crazy. He had long since decided that he would down this impudent gazelle before he left for his “holiday”. Now that he had done it, he was surprised by his own reactions. That he has actually spared his hunt after severely wounding him was not something that would go unnoticed here. He had sensed the presence of Black-eyes and her pack nearby. They would very much enjoy a good meal and Ankur would be a feast lasting for more than a day for these hungry hyenas. Drowsily he blinked around the place and was thinking of leaving soon. “Well, what am I waiting for?” thought Jabbar. He got up lazily and looked around the place, breathing through his mouth. On his way, he glanced at Sylvia and her cubs resting in the shade away from the afternoon sun and knew that by the time he was back all these lion cubs will be on their own. “What a nuisance”, he thought. “Now I will have to fight more often than I wish to”. Thoughts of the fight reminded him of the last one that he had had. He didn’t belong to this part of the jungle. He had a good fight that day with that leopard and won it. Head hung low, he slowly walked away, giving a lopsided grin and disappeared into the forest.

Sylvia watched him leave. It did not bother her the least. Black-eyes too was watching Jabbar leave. Now she will definitely have to find some other alternative for a few days. There was one more being in this forest watching him. It was none other that his victim Ankur. His friends had helped him slowly on to his limbs. They escorted him to another part of the jungle where there was good grass and a very good source of water. Not only that, there was a very good hiding place known only to these gazelles. Thanks to Old-Horns. He had discovered this place when he was grazing one day very long ago and he had told the others. Ever since it had become a practice among these gazelles to come here

whenever they felt sick or tired or to give birth. It was so well camouflaged. Old-Horns had now made it his home. Most gazelles involved in a chase with these predators either lost out the race, facing death or outran their chasers and survived without a scratch. Ankur was the first exception to return from the jaws of death and that too after being so severely wounded.

Ankur was helped on his way into the deep caves. He was too weak and tired. He was not sure whether he will ever survive these wounds. He remembered vividly the chase and his fall to Jabbar. Even now the memory sent shivers down his weak body. Now he had a good knowledge of how death felt like. It was cold. It was gnawing and it was slow. Yet, it was powerful. Ankur sat in the cave of Old-Horns. He was thinking of his past. The farthest back that he could remember was the time when he took his first steps. He remembered feeling very wobbly. Slowly his confidence grew as his unsure steps progressed towards walking steadily and slowly his walks increased to runs. His parents had kept a close vigil on him, especially his mother. There were too many kids in the group. Old-Horns and the other male gazelles under him were always tensed and worried a lot about the females and the kids in the group. The risk factor was great with terrible predators like Sheena, Sylvia and the rest of their likes close by. Ankur remembered the day Jabbar had attempted to pay him a visit. Not out of any sense of affection or any feeling of friendliness. It was curiosity. Jabbar had seen his mother hunt among the group. Of course Ankur’s father had shooed him off with his great horns and he was sure that the interest of that cub over this group had not disappeared. Ankur was a year old when Sheena had hunted down his parents. How he had hated her and her cubs for that! He had long since decided that he was not going to being downed so fast. He ate well and learned the tricks of survival fast.

He remembered the first day he was targeted by Sheena. She was the fastest on limbs that he had ever seen. Had it not been for his sudden instinct to dodge her, he would have fallen on that day itself. He still remembered the breath of that cheetah sounding closer and closer, growing louder and faster behind him. He had just changed path and fled for his life. From that day to this, he had survived just because of his speed and quick reflexes. But today was different. Jabbar, who had taken over the job of targeting him from his mother, had been at it relentlessly. Ankur was amazed by the turn of events. He just could not understand what had got over Jabbar at the eleventh hour.

Ankur knew he had to wait and take full rest and hope his wounds healed in time. There was nothing much left to be done. The fact that he had actually fallen to Jabbar, spread like wild fire among his tribe. His eyes scanned the small group of gazelles that had just

walked in. He saw three doe among them. One had the most beautiful dark eyes he had ever seen and the other had a beautiful coat. One was called Dinky and the other Silver. He was trying to get them for the past few days and would have even succeeded today, had not Jabbar entered into his life, disturbing his pleasure hunt. He thought these beautiful gazelles would keep him company for a long time to come. What he saw in the next few days caused him intense pain and anxiety.

His best friend Greyshot had walked in the next day to see how he was coping. He said weakly “Hello Greyshot! It’s nice to see you”. “How are you feeling?” asked Greyshot. “Like I am being torn form all sides” replied Ankur. “Are you eating well and taking good rest?” asked Greyshot. “Yes” was his worried reply. “Do you know what’s the latest discussion in the tribe?” asked his friend. “Well, what?” he asked disinterestedly. ”It’s about that cheetah’s reaction. How did he let you off the hook? When I saw him walk off, I just couldn’t believe my eyes. I was watching the two of you, you know? Have you heard his voice? Nobody in our tribe has heard him talk so far to anyone. One does not talk to one’s food! So what was he talking to you about?” asked Greyshot, all in one breath. Ankur did not hear a word. And Greyshot knew why. “You are thinking about those two doe aren’t you?” he guessed. “Yes” Ankur brightened visibly. “Seen them?” he asked. Greyshot cleared his throat and looked uneasy. “Don’t worry too much about them from now onwards. They have got different mates for themselves. Talk about selfishness. I watched Jabbar chase Dinky and Silver. Why did you have to go and do the hero’s stuff inviting death for their sake? I saw you push them away from Jabbar’s path and I thought you had gone off your head” finished Greyshot. It was clear he did not approve of his best friend’s actions. Ankur had seen Dinky and Silver grazing together. To his horror, he was suddenly aware of Jabbar’s presence close by. That beast was stalking the pair. He had given the alarm and pushed the pair away from Jabbar’s path. It had cost him precious second’s lead, throwing him into the jaws of death. His thoughts were broken as he heard Greyshot’s voice. He was asking him about Jabbar. Ankur sighed and winced painfully.

Greyshot knew what was in his friend’s mind. But his eyes were on Beauty, another doe. He had watched Beauty accompany Ankur to the caves. She had not returned to the tribe ever since. “Hello Beauty! Been keeping a watch on my friend is it?” he asked. Beauty did not reply but looked anxiously at Ankur. She had always had a soft corner for this handsome gazelle and had been disappointed when he had gone after those two silly doe. She had hoped for something better but decided not to complain. And now she couldn’t believe anything that was happening so far. Her only relief was that Ankur was safe even if he was badly wounded. Greyshot whispered to Ankur “What’s with Beauty? She never returned to the tribe after you came here. I think she likes you. I always felt she would make a great mate for you. Why have you not ever thought about her? I think you will be very happy with her” finished Greyshot. Ankur looked at Beauty as if for the first time. He slowly nodded his head at her asking her to join them. He was wondering why this never occurred to him. Finally it had taken his friend’s practical mind to help him see through the mist. Ankur smiled gently at her. Greyshot cleared his throat uneasily and asked if he could come back for his answer. Besides, he wanted to share a rumor. “What answer, what rumor?” asked Ankur. Shaking his head Greyshot gave a loud laugh. “This fellow’s funny” he thought. “Do you know the talk that is going on in the tribe? Since you are the only one that Jabbar has spared, Old-Horns has decided to make you the next head. How’s that? I am very happy for you. But you never told me what passed between you and Jabbar” he said.

“That! Yes. You will never believe it. Don’t say a word of this to anybody outside. Only you and Beauty need to know about this. It seems Jabbar had always admired my skills and wanted to down me at least once. But having done it, he felt it would be silly to kill me, as I seemed to be the only gazelle that gave him the thrill of a good chase. He will always chase me if he feels the need for a good chase. He will kill me in the end. Until such time he has promised me my life and that of my wife and children”. Beauty and Greyshot heard this with an amazed yet cold silence. They realized that it was a treaty between Life and Death.

A treaty made in the jungle.

NOTE: This story has been published in The Hindu's Young World - Jan 2000 Edition