Fang of the Hunter

They ridiculed him. A gangly, uncoordinated,16 year old boy is not someone of much use in an African village. His name was Thabodonda, but in village slang he was referred to as, "He who makes the hippos look nimble." On expeditions to forage, it seemed as though the laughs of the hyenas were directed directly at him. The hunters would not have him, and those who remained at the village refused his lanky 7 foot tall body, even for the most menial of tasks. There is a saying, "In the land of the blind the one-eyed man is king." Thabo was a giant in a land of pygmies, and he was merely a step above the dogs who begged for scraps.

Thabo had one loyal ally. His mother, the matriarch and seer of the tribe, had loved and cared for him from birth. Now his one reason for living was fading. She was dying, slowly and painfully, of a mysterious ailment, which befuddled all in the tribe; all but one person, who had never been stumped before. Thabo entered the grand hut of the chief, and was stripped of his rusty spear. An arm reached out, he was pushed into a subservient kneeling position, and he stared at the ground awaiting further command. "Arise, my friend, and be cheered; for your mother's salvation is found. Or perhaps you should worry, because the weight of your mother will be on your shoulders. There is but one cure. You must hunt and kill the female cheetah which has ravaged the dreams of our ancestors. This beast, Anchel-Ra, is the one talked of in legends, glimpsed only by the fastest of our scouts." The chief's eyes seemed to drill into his skull as Thabo stood, disbelieving. Taking the silence as an affirmative, the chief continued, "Thabo, this is your chance to prove yourself. Go, now. Leave as a child, return with the tooth of the cat as a man." Thabo, not wanting to spoil the moment with a clumsy reply, nodded and respectfully backed out of the hut.

The beauty of the sunset drew Thabo's gaze as he walked across the Serengeti plains toward his mother's abode. Far in the distance, a cheetah chased an antelope, and brought it down in a scuffle of dirt. In the other direction, giraffes strained to get at the juicy leaves not yet eaten off the tall trees. "Soon I will have your cousin's carcass for a trophy!" Thabo screamed in his fiercest voice toward the distant cheetah. SMACK! went the sound of skin on hardwood as Thabo walked into the top of the doorway. A giant in the town of pygmies must also watch where he is going. "%#@$&*&#!&*!!!!!" cursed the boy in a more subdued tone of voice. He rose to his feet and entered the hut only to run right into his mother, who had obviously heard every word he said. After staring reproachfully for a moment, his mother embraced him. The exertion tired her so much that she slumped, and Thabo gently placed her back on her pallet. "Mother, there is so much to tell you; of the goings on of the village and the mission that the chief..." "There now, no need to exert yourself. I know all about it." the Matriarch interrupted Thabo in mid-sentence. "Depart now on your quest. My heart goes with you. May you be successful in your search for the fang. Just remember, when you return, you will be a changed person. Perhaps, so will I." With a heavy heart, Thabo left the hut, more motivated than he had ever been before. As he departed the village, the people seemed to eye him with pity, as they would a condemned criminal. Except for one person.

Thabo ran until he could not; then he jogged. He soon tired and slowed to a walk. He kept walking. He walked, and walked until he was a long way away on the plains. And then he kept walking. Days passed. The plains are a hard place. One must either kill or be killed. At this moment Thabo seemed slightly more inclined toward the latter. He was hungry, hot, tired, and very thirsty. The fact the several buzzards were circling above his head did not brighten his outlook on the situation. All around him were animals. The hyenas seemed to be mocking him as they cackled their wheezing laughs. He saw an occasional cheetah, but none even close to the size and prowess of the notorious Anchel-Ra. His pathetic attempts at catching an animal were met with so success, and no edible plant life or water seemed to be within sight. He was becoming delirious. "Just a few more steps, just over this ridge..." was Thabo's last conscious thought as he toppled forward into the scrub.

When he awoke, (He awoke! That's a good sign!) Thabo was surprised to see a leather container in front of him. He frantically opened it and joyfully sloshed down some of the clean water that was inside. Thirst appeased, he appraised his situation. By some bushes ahead, a newly slaughtered antelope lay on the ground. Thabo ripped a chunk of dripping raw meat and ate it. The rest he decided to cook and save. Later that night, sitting beside a crackling fire with his meat roasting beautifully, Thabo reflected on his enormous good fortune. Who could have done such a kind deed for him? And why did his benefactor choose to remain anonymous? All Thabo knew was that he had been give a second chance at life.

There was nothing over the ridge. But Thabo kept on, energized by his food. Later that day, Thabo came to a house. It was an extremely unusual house; its main room was built around the thick trunk of a baobab tree. In front of the door, a wrinkled old man sat on a stool, staring at the ground of the pathway. Thabo jogged forward, searching for what was drawing the elderly man's attention. As he approached, Thabo saw that it was a skinny centipede, crawling across the dirt. Thabo made as to flatten it with his sandal. Quick as lighting, the old man jumped up and slammed Thabo's ankle aside with his staff. Thabo stumbled backward into the dirt. "DO YOU WISH TO BE A KILLER!?" The old man screamed incredulously. He continued, "HOW DARE YOU DISRESPECT AN ANIMAL IN SUCH A WAY?!" Thabo scrambled to his feet, itching for revenge on this senile old instigator. Before he could blink, he was again lying on his back, this time with a lump on his head and a nasty bruise on his gut. This time, Thabo opted to remain on the ground. A second later, the old man's face appeared an inch away from his. "I am sorry for injuries inflicted, young one. Perhaps you would care to come inside for help and rest, yes?" Seeing little room for refusal, Thabo nodded his head. It hurt.

A wash, a meal, and a nap served to restore Thabo's enthusiasm. Thabo had only two questions in his mind. "Who are you, elder?" he asked when he had the opportunity. "I am the keeper of animals, he who is no longer part of the human society. I was once the emperor's foremost scout and tracker. But now I am merely an old man who lives in the wilderness. Oh, and you call me "Riij" from now on, yes?" replied the old man. "Riij, all I ask is that you teach me to be a hunter. Show me your ways." Riij looked Thabo up and down, and with the beginnings of a grin on his wizened old face, gave a nod.

So it began. Slowly but surely a weak boy was transformed into a hunter who could run with the best of them. Thabo went on grueling treks, with Riij moving so fast Thabo could hardly keep up. They went without food and drink, and came through much better than Thabo did on his first journey. They hunted animals, first learning to kill empty-handed. Soon they moved up to arrows, tipped with poison from the brightly colored frogs at the oasis. This poison would kill within five seconds of being shot with an arrow, but was harmless if taken by mouth. Thus the hunters could eat their kills safely. They went hungry often; but every night after a successful day, they feasted. But Thabo also began to change his attitude toward the animals. He and Riij performed a ritual after every kill, sprinkling grass towards the sun, above the carcass, chanting slowly to show their respect for the death. They killed only what they needed to eat. Thabo's body grew lean and hard from work. Riij became Thabo's best friend. Thabo told him of his quest, and Rijj received this information quietly. Eventually, Riij told Thabo that he was ready. The teacher had taught all he knew, and it was time for the student to seek his destiny. Riij told Thabo where he had glimpsed the beast Anchel-Ra, and wished him well.

Anchel-Ra was proud. She was sitting atop her kill, the cheetah's spots gleaming in the sunset. She probably weighed more than Thabo himself. She had brought down a large hyena, and had ripped out its entrails and eaten them. All this Thabo had seen, from far away. He had found the killing fields of the famous Anchel-Ra. There he stayed, never able to get close enough for a shot. He was always coming upon her kills later, which were stripped of meat from head to toe. He wondered how one cat could eat so much. He remained waiting and watching for days. But Thabo was also tracking her. He tracked her path all the way to the edge of the jungle, and into the rainforest. He found her lair.

Late one night, Thabo entered the jungle. He was rubbed in mud for camouflage, and carried only his bow and a quiver of lethal poisoned arrows. He crouched outside her cave, and waited for her to return from the hunt so that his hunt could begin. She did return, dragging an antelope carcass behind her. Cheetahs usually devour their kill on the spot, so this was unusual. As Anchel-Ra neared the cave, Thabo was surprised to hear the mews and squeaks of kittens. Several baby cheetahs bounded out to their mother, and began to feast on the meal she had provided. Little snouts, covered in blood and gore, were licked clean by the loving mother's tongue. Tussles started over the choicest parts of meat, and were quickly solved by the mother, who devoured the meat in question to end the dispute. Thabo could hear the mews of delight from the kittens who had not eaten in days. Then Thabo heard a snap. Without looking down he knew he had stepped on a twig.

There they were. Thabo crouched on a broken twig. Anchel-Ra staring straight at him, tensed, ready to attack. Thabo had his bow and arrow up. Arrow nocked, string pulled back, the poisoned chunk of stone was aimed to go careening through the skull of the feline with the slightest twitch of Thabo's fingers. He would not miss. Anchel-Ra seemed to know the situation. She crouched in front of her young, blocking the way with her body. Her fangs were bared in a snarl. The very fangs Thabo had come for were just a few paces away in this cat's mouth. It was Thabo's move. He should have fired the arrow long ago. This is what he had come to do. What was holding him back? He heard the voice of the chief in his head, telling him to fire. He imagined his mother's face, depending on him. He saw a furry kitten, scrambling past its mother and mewing at the intruder. The white fur around its mouth was stained crimson. The yellow eyes of Anchel-Ra locked with his, the piercing gaze cutting straight to his soul. It seemed to last an eternity. Thabo tensed his grip and pulled the string back a little farther. Then, just as suddenly as it all began, the string returned to its former position, the deadly arrow no longer nocked on the string. The cheetah was still standing, but Thabo had gone.

Time seems to have a life of its own. Time speeds up or slows down in order only to make life hard for a person, a pathetic raft adrift on its seas. For Sanga, Thabo's absence seemed to last forever. Sanga was the most popular girl in the village. She had friends and suitors coming out her ears. But she lacked true friendship. With all her companionship, she was alone. She hoped her gift had enabled Thabo to survive. For Thabo, his return to the village came all too soon. However, he was greeted as a hero! He was paraded to his mother's house on the backs of joyful villagers. At the door he was greeted by the chief. "Welcome home, Thabodonda! You have returned in time! Give me the fang, and I can heal your mother." Thabo hung his head, as he replied quietly, "I have failed. I do not have the fang of Anchel-Ra." The chief grabbed him with an iron grip around the neck and held him high. "You do not know what we could do to you now. They all believed in you. I think the worst punishment you can have now is watching your mother suffer and die." With those word, the chief flung Thabo into his mother's hut and barred the door. He ordered two guards to let nobody out until the matriarch was dead.\par \par \tab The sweet smell of death hung over the room like a fog. Thabo's mother, now looking like a corpse, lay on her pallet. He fell by her side, sobbing. To speak was excruciating for her, so she was brief. "I love you, Thabodonda. No matter what they say about you, I believe you succeeded." With those words, she slipped into the world beyond, and Thabo, tears running down his cheeks, covered her gently with a blanket.

"Let us go." were the words from Sanga, standing behind him. Together they stepped out into the sunlight. The hard stares of the villagers bored into them from all directions. But the two of them were soon out of the range of those penetrating gazes. They left it all far behind them. They walked, man and woman, the hunter and the housewife, the tall and the short, the rejected and the accepted, hand in hand across the golden plains.

The End.

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