“Yes. And when I die, I want to die here. It’s a beautiful spot to meet Aiheu in. Yes, a beautiful spot for anything. Kako and I were apart in life, but we will be together in death.”

Baba wept. “If I have to drag you here myself, you will rest here.”

Mabatu nuzzled him tenderly, then lay in the grass and said, “Son, you have a wife whose fur is warm and soft. Leave me with the dead and go treasure the living while they may be found. I’ll be OK, I promise.”

Isha responded to Baba’s love by kindling new life within her. Baba had never witnessed pregnancy before, and he spent many days in anxious pacing as the evidence of his new family began to show.

“This waiting is killing me!” he said after two moons.

“What do you think it’s doing to me??” Isha asked. Then she laid on her side and motioned for him to come over. “Lay your head against me here. Now listen very carefully.”

Baba settled against her belly, straining to hear the sounds of new life. “Hey!”

“Did you hear anything?”

“No, but something moved!”

“Not something. Someone. Your child.”

Baba raised his head, a look of such beauty in his eyes that Isha had to reach out with a paw and stroke him. “Life is a miracle,” he murmured. “My beautiful Isha! I love you so!”

Isha did not follow Kako’s lead and hunt when she was having contractions. But she did hunt right up to her due date, taking a position as beater and leaving the main kill to the unburdened. Even that made Baba nearly split his hide. Mabatu had to reassure him that Isha knew what she was doing.

One day, Isha excused herself from the hunt. Worriedly, Baba asked her, “Are you all right?”

“It’s time,” she said.

“Time for what?”

“Time for Habu’s mantlement,” she said pointedly. “I’m having contractions!”

“Oh.”

When the full realization hit him, he nearly went into histrionics. “Where are the midwives?? Don’t you think Rafiki should be here?? They’re out on the hunt at a time like this??”

“Just relax and it will all be over soon,” Isha said. She could tell it was going to be a difficult delivery, and she wished that Rafiki could have been there to give Baba something for the pain.

“What are we going to do?”

Isha grimaced and breathed deeply. Trying to remain calm, she said, “Bring Mabatu here. My midwives will be midhusbands.”

“But I don’t know what to do??”

“I’ll talk you through it, Honey Tree. Just relax.”

Her water broke, and labor began in earnest. Throughout the stressful process, several cries of discomfort broke the stillness of the night, but Isha tried hard to ignore them. She brought out one, two, and finally three cubs.

“Remove the sacs,” she told Mabatu. “You can do it.”

He reached out with his paw, claws extended.

“No, use your teeth.”

“My teeth??”

“Hurry or they’ll suffocate!”

Grimacing with disgust, Mabatu pulled the membranous sac from each cub. “Eew!”

“Now Baba, you help lick them clean. Hurry, Baba! You wanted to help, didn’t you?”

Baba parted his lips and managed to part his tightly clenched teeth. He touched the first cub with his tongue and licked toward the face. After the initial shock, he relaxed and began to groom more vigorously. Mabatu took one of the others and began to groom. “It’s not SO bad.”

“Of course not,” Isha said, taking the third one and grooming quickly but lovingly. “Do you realize these are your children, Baba? And your grandchildren, Mabatu?”

“Yeah!” Baba said. “My children! Look how small and fragile they are! Look at those tiny paws and that little pink nose!”

Isha smiled proudly. “Two sons and a daughter. The sons will be N’ga and Sufa. But I’m unsure about the daughter.”

Habu came up. He regarded the small bundle of fur and said, “I’d like to name her Jona.”

A pained look came to Isha’s face. “Why that name, my son?”

“Because she was my friend. She was very special to me.”

Isha put her paw on his. “She was very special to me too. That’s why no more of my cubs must ever have that name. I already have two Mabatus to keep track of, honey tree. Let’s think of something else.”

Habu said, “Maybe we could call her Penda?”

“Rafiki’s little girl.” Isha thought for a moment, then smiled. “Yes, that is a good name. It means ‘beloved,’ and she will be.” She looked around at the three generations of males and nodded. “You were there when I needed you. I don’t know what I would have done without your help.”

Lisani grew into quite a beautiful lioness. Isha looked at her appraisingly one day and said, “Beesa would be so proud of you. I know I am.” Habu noticed as well, and while his cubhood devotion remained undimmed, it took on an additional richness of depth and meaning as he longed to bond with her and raise a family.

Miss Priss was an apt pupil, quick to master hunting skills and put them into practice. She was rather young when she made her first kill and was doubly proud when Isha put the blood on her cheek. All she had to wait for was Habu’s mantlement.

Habusu enjoyed something that was a rare privilege for Ahadi’s line. He had a grandfather. King Mabatu doted on him as much as he did Isha’s newer cubs.

King Mabatu had lost his wife, but it would be unfair to say his last years were dark. Far from it, he would roll on his back and sweep his paw at Aiheu, thanking him for the love that was the comfort of his old age.

Still he never forgot Kako, and a day never passed that he didn’t express his grief in his own special way. The day of Habusu’s mantlement, when he watched Habu pledge to Lissie, Mabatu could almost feel Kako’s presence next to him. It was a peaceful feeling, and after the ceremony, he sought her out.

King Mabatu slinked quietly to the Termite Mounds. He stood where the green grass swayed and flowers nodded in the breeze. On that spot Kako had gone to be with Aiheu. Mabatu stroked a tender spike of purple flowers. “From one beauty to another,” he murmured gently. “My little Nisei.” Finding comfort in the soft grass that sprang from her body, he spoke to her.

“You know, Habusu is an old married lion now. Yes, he’s taken the big step, and you should see what a good couple they make, Miss Priss and Habu. When I see them together, I remember the wonderful times we had together. Oh girl, what times they were! I’m just sorry you’re not here to see this. You would be so proud.” He closed his eyes and pillowed his head in the soft grass. Taking in a deep breath, he tasted the fragrance of the flowers. “See you in my dreams, honey tree.”

Old King Mabatu had not walked the border for many days. He left the job to his capable son and grandson, and while he was not worried about safety the inactivity was a blow to his self esteem.

For a week or so, Mabatu said, “Tomorrow I will mark, but today I’m just not well. But don’t worry about me.” Then as he declined rapidly, he stopped the pretense and began to speak of Kako more in the present tense than in the past. “She will be young and fresh. What will she think of this broken-down old lion coming to meet her!”

Makaka and Anasa were taking turns monitoring his care. At first, Mabatu chafed saying, “I don’t trust these female doctors!” After a couple of days, however, he would rest his large head in the shelter of Anasa’s arms and whimper as he would not dare in front of the males. “Honey Tree, do you have anything that will help this pain? It’s all I can do just to go on from minute to minute.” She would kiss him and treat him with herbs, and before a week was out, he would be disappointed to see Makaka coming. “What have you done with my honey tree??”