Jamaani’s Game
Jamaani made a game of finding hunters and shadowing them. This seemed to come naturally to him, and he clearly enjoyed doing it. He would insist that he was in no danger from the hunters, and Zalika believed him until he came back from his 'game' with a minor wound to his right leg and a mixture of enthusiasm and chagrin. “I should not have tried to take that kill from them. They were better hunters than I thought.” Then, with unmasked glee, “But we had such a good chase.”
“We are trying to find a home, you crazy cat. These people will never invite us in for dinner if you keep stealing what they intend to eat.”
“You are so very right. Come, I will teach you how to do it. Then you can see that I do not get carried away again. I know you will be particularly good at it, just you wait and see.” The glee in his voice made Zalika wonder if he wasn’t Anansi, come to torment her.
Zalika couldn't see any point in stalking hunters. Hiding from them, yes, not stalking them, but when Jamaani got excited about something, there was no denying him. “You are a stupid cat who needs a keeper, so you won’t get your tail caught in some hunter’s wife’s pot. How shall we do this?”
“It is simple, only move when they do. Use all your senses, and do not lose track of any of them. What could be simpler? You will do fine. Just you wait and see.”
The first lesson Zalika learned was that simple and easy were not the same thing. While the concept was simple, the execution of it was anything but easy. She watched Jamaani play his stalking game, and she watched the hunters. She would move off and try to stalk him. She would move only when he did, she would listen to him, watch him, and smell him, only to lose track of him. Then she would stop moving and listen until her heartbeat seemed to boom in her chest like message drums.
“You are getting the hang of this now. Soon you will master it, just you wait and see.” At first, he would say these words from right next to her as if he had been hiding in her stripes. She would leap away from him and usually into a tree after just a few strides. Jamaani would help her back to her feet and critique her technique when he finished laughing.
Over time, she got better at it. She could usually see him when he got within 10 to 15 feet, even in dense brush. This was better, but still inside his striking distance. She also noticed how much she enjoyed playing the game with Jamaani.
The game and practice continued as they followed the water north and west. The forest also grew denser, wetter, and harder to move through as they went. This seemed to suit Jamaani very well, but Zalika was an open country animal, and the thicker the forest got, the less she felt at home in it. In some areas, the ground was too soft for Zalika’s hard feet, forcing them to double back, and in others, their path was blocked by standing water that Zalika was unwilling to wade through.
They started to encounter small lakes that Zalika had no interest in exploring. She had experience with open water in her homeland, and it usually meant crocodiles. Here, they had much more cover to hide in. Jamaani, for his part, was unconcerned. Casually saying, “Today, you will stalk the crocodile.” The idea terrified the mare she shared the body with so much, she squealed for the first time in a long while.
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“It has finally happened. I was not sure which of us they would get first.”
“What are you talking about, you silly striped ass?”
“The mosquitoes have sucked out your brains. How will I stalk the crocodiles? When they move, someone is eaten. How can I stalk them? They wait for me to step into their mouth?” Zalika’s memories of crocodiles sometimes ended with being held underwater. The heat and humidity did not help either. They had been moving for weeks now through dense jungle, and Zalika was beginning to forget what it felt like to be dry. She’d had all of this she wanted, and now to stalk a crocodile! Time to GO! Time to go NOW!
“So, they move very little. What did you tell me about the lion?”
“When you can see them, they are not hunting you.”
“The crocodiles are just the same. Only, they will not chase you even when they are hunting. If you know where they are, you go where they are not. We are coming to a small lake. You will find the crocodiles.”
Jamaani seemed quite sure of this. Zalika preferred the system on the Serengeti. Crocodiles never hid in the grass, and more importantly, she could run forever through the grass.
By the time they reached the pond, Zalika was sweating heavily from more than just the heat. She crept up to the water’s edge and carefully studied it. “Logs do not have bumps all in a row. Look there,” Jamaani pointed at what Zalika had taken for a log. While she watched, it winked at her. That was more than enough. The mare inside her needed to run, and that need was threatening to consume her. Indeed, if there had been a clear path to run, the compulsion would have overwhelmed her. With great effort of will, she stayed to try to see how many other crocodiles she could spot. With each new one, the need to run would resume but fade more quickly than the last.
After the third crocodile, Jamaani asked, “Does that always happen when you are frightened?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Each time you find a new crocodile, that pile at your feet grows bigger.”
“The less I have to carry when I run.”
“Then, when you have counted all the crocodiles, you will have nothing to carry at all. We will move to the north and east. That way we can travel in the more open forest partway up the mountain.”
A wave of relief washed over Zalika with the thought of more open ground. “What of the shore?”
“We could press on, if that is what you want.” Jamaani offered with false innocence.
“NO! We can see it from higher ground just fine.” Zalika added to the pile at her feet at the thought of going any deeper into this forest.
“So then, how many are there?”
Zalika took one last count of the crocodiles she had found before answering, “Six, there are six of them. Now let’s leave.”
“You see. You found one more than I did. You will make a fine hunter.”
They had been traveling in this forest for two months now, but the trip to higher ground took only three days. Zalika would have run it in one if Jamaani could have kept up. As it was, Jamaani found two more opportunities to make Zalika count crocodiles.
Once out of the dense forest, they found a sheltered spot on the brow of a ridge that let them see the land for many miles in all directions. South and east stood the mountains, and beyond that lay the lands they had already been driven out of. West, the forest stretched as far as they could see, hiding the enormous lake. Jamaani had insisted it was a lake, not the sea, but Zalika was still not sure. North, if they stayed near the mountains, they could travel through more open country. “Where shall we go from here?” asked Jamaani.
To Zalika, the land to the north seemed to stretch out forever, comforting browns and greens, reminding Zalika of her homeland on the other side of the mountains. There was sufficient forest to provide them cover and prey for Jamaani. The land was open enough for her to run if she had to. “That way,” she said, pointing at the band of lightly forested land near the base of the mountains.
“Then in the morning we shall leave. Tonight, we will enjoy the stars. I missed them in the deep forest.” With that settled, Jamaani made himself comfortable and started muttering something about stalking a lion before drifting off to sleep. Jamaani’s muttering about stalking lions did not fool Zalika at all. He was nearly as afraid of confronting a lion as she was.