THERE WAS rustling in the tall savannah grass - not that the well-built antelope grazing intently noticed it. And the rustling was not just at one point either. Streaks of mane, rippling tawny muscles and twitching black tufted tails were to be seen all around the antelope. The lions were a well-knit team. The season was going well for them, as had the previous ones too. They had beaten all comers easily and since this team had banded together, the pride had roared its domination many times - 16 to be exact.

Legend has it that there was once a wise and old leader of this same pride many seasons ago, who had led them to 16 straight successful hunts on the savannahs around here. The mangy and slightly lean and mean looking leader of the pride - Punter - was a street-wise male. It did not look very big but had enough fight to make up for two full-grown lions. Punter was all stringy muscle and tearing teeth honed to a sharp point with lightning reflexes to boot. And if there was one thing Punter wanted to do, it was to engrave his own name on the legend. He wanted to be the lion that led its pride out to the 17th consecutively successful hunt. It was not that the pride was hungry - it was never that for this pride. The thrill was in the chase and the kill, not in the consumption of it.

While Punter crouched with shoulder blades rhythmically bobbing up and down, his mind was still whirring - with events, happenings and even the aftermath of the last hunt. It was not all easy going last time. There were moments when he had thought that the hunt might not have been successful. It so happened that the prey they were chasing, and which had gotten quite a head start, got distracted by a couple of bull elephants coming out of seemingly nowhere. This distraction and the resultant momentary hesitation on the part of the prey was enough for the pride to capitalise on. Punter, on the last hunt, was lagging behind a bit, uncharacteristically. But Pup - a young and eager male widely tipped to take over from Punter some day - knew no fear or hesitation. Pup charged in and without even thinking about the proximity of the two elephants, he flew for the throat of the prey and when the dust settled, he had gotten the jugular without fail and the elephants had sidled off to a slightly more serene part of the grassland. Punter came in panting and made short work of the kill. It was he who had put Pup up in front this time and everybody knew it. Pup maybe one for the future but the present belonged to Punter and he made sure everybody knew that. The triumphalist roar that he let out after that kill scattered even the ever-persistent hyenas off - only for a while, though. They were back to their trailing ways soon, with a grumble about loud-throated lions that celebrated far too much for too little an achievement.

Punter shook his head, clearing it of these thoughts of past glory and got himself ready for the chase, the pincer movement of the pride and the final lunge, which would bring down the prey. The pride was not at its quietest and its most efficient today and consequently the big antelope had gotten wind that something was afoot. The antelope was not big and well grown for no reason. This was a veteran of many scares and those many near escapes from sure death had given it an air of unmistakable nobility and an easy grace, even allowing for the piercing intensity of its gaze and the ever present twitch of its tail and ears. It knew that making a move to escape a moment too soon could get it undone. The antelope also knew of the pride’s last hunt and how but for the elephants, the chase would have proved futile. There were no elephants or any other distractions nearby today.

The antelope knew that it needed to lead the pride on, allow them to make the first move and then make good on its escape leaving behind dust and heat in the face of the predators. It was not easy - it was never easy on this little piece of grassland known as Perth and it knew this fact very well. An ever-present pack of hyenas in the far distance did not think that the antelope stood a chance. So too thought the vultures circling far above. They were waiting for the antelope to fall because they knew that this antelope, when it fell, would have enough meat left over for them after the pride had had its fill. The antelope never deals with the scavengers and did not think much of what these beasts thought of its prospects. It had a plan in mind and was confident enough of executing it to perfection. So, it lowered its head into the grass but kept its senses alert at the same time - allowing the predators to think that it would now be vulnerable to an attack. It slowly quelled the twisting tail and twitching ears - giving more reason for the pride to think that the antelope was unaware of their presence.