Pride (26 page)

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Authors: William Wharton

Tags: #Fiction, #General

BOOK: Pride
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Any sign of weakness in the pride leader or leaders is picked up by other lions, either vagrants drifting along the edges of the pride or former pride members waiting for a chance to take over. There is no observed example of a lioness taking over a pride. Infrequently is there a fight to the death between lions, for a pride.

Dominance is mostly asserted by roaring. Showing teeth is a defensive threat. There is much strutting and staring down. A lion rarely looks directly into the eyes of another lion unless he is determined to be threatening.

An uncertain or frightened lion turns his head to one side, sometimes all the way onto the shoulder, and then twists the body even farther back. This is a sign of surrender, yet a fight will take place if this acquiescence is not respected.

When fighting, lions grunt, moan, growl, meow, and roar. A lion cannot purr; no cat that roars can also purr.

Lions and lionesses can go as long as seventeen days without food. They drink water slowly, taking five to fifteen minutes to lap water into their mouths. They have no system for siphoning or sucking water up, so must form cups of their tongues and lap in a small bit at a time. In normal circumstances, they drink every day or two.

The members of a pride are seldom all together. Sometimes they are as much as ten miles from the pride center. Roaring is often used to communicate location and is a part of “prideness.”

The lion pride society is complex, especially complex in regard to lionesses. Typically a pride will have from three to fifteen lionesses plus their cubs. All the lionesses will be related—mother, sisters, daughters, granddaughters, over several generations. They remain together for life in the pride, regardless of change of pride male or males heading the pride. With few exceptions, pride lionesses, as well as pride lions, will tolerate no vagrants in the pride territory. They will band to drive off wandering lions or groupings.

Lionesses come in heat every three weeks for a period of five days, unless pregnant. The lioness approaches the male and makes all the advances. Typically, during a courtship period a lioness will seduce away from the pride center the pride male, or, if there is more than one, one of them. They will leave the central grouping for five days of ongoing sexual activity.

Copulation is quick and frequent. During copulation, the male bites the neck and shoulders of the lioness. Sometimes, in the fury of his orgiastic excitement, he will actually kill her. Copulation occurs every twenty minutes to half hour over those five days, virtually day and night. There is scarcely time taken to eat.

When one lioness comes into heat it tends to set off into heat any other lioness who isn't pregnant. This can be quite demanding on the pride lion or lions. Under such circumstances sometimes a vagrant lion can successfully invade a territory to fulfill the duty of the tired or busy pride leader or leaders.

The gestation period is three and a half months. As the time of birthing approaches, the lioness again separates herself from the center of the pride and, still within the boundaries of pride territory, searches out a hiding place where she can have her cubs in privacy and some security. Other lions and lionesses have been known to eat cubs, and there are always the wandering, voracious hyenas.

When the lioness has had her cubs, usually from one to four, she will keep them away from the pride, and the young will survive exclusively on her milk. She does not, despite some statements to the contrary, bring back food for the cubs.

The lactation period lasts from two to three months. Since the lioness is a social animal, there is always the danger during this time that she will join the central pride group for socializing or for a hunt and completely forget about, abandon, her cubs. Lionesses are
not
the best mothers in the world. The abandoned cubs will either starve or be eaten by other animals.

When the cubs have reached a certain age—between two and three months—the lioness will lead them to the center of the pride. There, the lioness will first make up to the others, rubbing her face against the muzzles of other lionesses and lions. She will then come back to her cubs and, one at a time, bring them to be introduced to the pride. These cubs will rub faces, be licked, stroked, and generally initiated to the group.

From this time on, their life changes significantly. Any responsibility of maternity the lioness might have possessed before is now distributed among all the other nursing lionesses.

Each lioness has four nipples. A lioness will accept any cub wanting to nurse until it has reached the age of about six months. They seem to play no favorites toward their own; perhaps they don't even recognize them any more. Because of the phenomenon whereby lionesses come into sympathetic heat with one another, there are usually several lionesses with cubs about the same age. Most of them are already pregnant again. These lionesses form a sort of nursery where the cubs can nurse almost at will.

The lionesses still hunt together, providing the pride lion with food and themselves with sustenance for milk.

As the cubs grow older, they try to follow the hunt. They develop a taste for meat and want to join in feasting on the prey. However, they are invariably chased away by the lionesses, including their own mothers.

The lion will frequently shoo off all the lionesses so the cubs can eat, or he will drag away some of the choice portions and allow the cubs to share with him. Except for this rather unusual behavior, many more of the cubs would die by starvation.

One mysterious element in this social life of lions is how some lionesses are selected to remain in the pride, replacing older lionesses, becoming part of this life-support system while others, when they reach maturity, are chased out along with the maturing young lions.

Some carefully trained observers, watching over many years, feel it's a question of how the young sub-lionesses approach the other members of the pride. If they act as if they belong—approach directly, rub faces frequently and with affection, lie about in the communal groups, participate in the hunt effectively—they have a better chance of acceptance. If, on the other hand, they act timid, sly, approach the other members of the pride too cautiously, behave suspiciously, and are contentious, or don't hunt well, they are likely to be expelled on reaching maturity along with the lions.

Since the difference between life for a lioness in a pride and life outside one is so tremendously different, these seemingly unimportant variations in deportment can mean life or death.

There is a difference between the roaring of a lion and of a lioness. A lion's roaring is typically more aggressive, more challenging. A lioness will often roar lightly or groan to call her cubs.

A lion's roar begins with a moan or two, then a series of earth-shaking roars followed by several harsh grunts. The series can last as long as a minute. A lion or lioness will roar from any position; standing, sitting, or lying down. Neither lions nor lionesses can roar before they're about two and a half years old, and a typical grown male lion will roar twenty or more times in a night.

An aggressive lion coughs when angry; he also growls. A snarling lion has his mouth open with his teeth exposed. However, in general, a visible lion or lioness is not a menace because, when a lion is hungry or hunting, it makes every effort to be invisible.

The life of vagrant wandering lions and lionesses is precarious. It is harder for the lionesses to bear and raise cubs. The chasing after migrating prey makes it difficult for her to come back to a fixed den or nest; abandonment of cubs is more frequent.

Since vagrant lions and lionesses live in unprotected territory, the cubs are more often prey themselves. There is usually no male lion to guarantee a source of meat to the cubs, so starvation is frequent. These are some of the reasons why the cubs of vagrant lionesses have so little chance of survival. The chances are great that Tuffy would not have survived in the natural state.

Lions and lionesses have excellent eyesight and hearing; a keen sense of smell. They are sensualists and enjoy physical contact. They bunch and spread themselves out over one another, piling up in groups for hours at a time, cubs playing with the tails of adults, wrestling with each other, adults resting heads across the backs of others, or spread out on their backs with feet in the air. They generally move away from the pride group only to excrete in private, to breed, cub, or hunt.

Cubs are constantly playing and wrestling. Playing for the sake of play seems to be a big part of lion life. Adults will put up with continual lunges at their tails or cubs embracing their legs or paws, jumping on their backs. Cub wrestling seems to have nothing to do with survival; a lion never wrestles with its prey; this is not its way of killing. When a lion kills it rarely leaps; it almost always keeps its back feet on the ground, providing a base for its tremendous power, striking out with its paws like a boxer delivering roundhouse punches.

In general, a lion needs ten to fifteen pounds of meat per day to stay healthy and comfortable.

So this is the life Tuffy never knew. It is most likely Tuffy considers Cap to be a member of his pride and the two of them pride leaders. Sally, as Cap's mate and because she started feeding Tuffy at an early age, is probably included in Tuffy's sense of pride and pride protection.

It's difficult to project Tuffy's attitude toward Jimmy. He's definitely a rival, perhaps as a juvenile within the pride or as a peripheral vagrant. In any case, there is no love lost between them.

It's very hard to know if a lion can make these kinds of substitutions for his instinctual patterns, based on an unnatural situation. Some animals seem to do this, such as the ducks and geese in Konrad Lorenz's studies.

If this kind of substitution
is
possible it could help explain some of the following events.

PART 8

I
t's a beautiful early October morning in Wildwood, the sun only a glow over the ocean; a bluish brightening dusk fills the air. Just off the boardwalk, a hundred yards from the sea, behind a hotel called Broff's, a man is rooting in garbage cans. He has a half-filled burlap sack at his feet. The sack is damp and bulging. The man is wearing a cap. It's Cap Modig.

Behind him a police patrol wagon rolls up slowly. Two policemen step from a running board while the vehicle is still moving. One is heavy-set, in his mid-forties, the other young.

Cap glances over his shoulder, straightens up, puts his hands over his head in mock surrender.

“O.K., Murph, you caught me red-handed; slip on the cuffs.”

Sergeant Murphy, the heavier, older policeman, strolls up behind Cap, his pistol on one hip, his night stick and handcuffs dangling from the other. He folds his arms across his chest.

“Cut it out, Cap. You know I got no choice.”

“I don't have many choices left either, Murph. To be perfectly honest, this is
not
the way I enjoy starting off my day, grubbing through Broff's stinking garbage.”

Cap slowly lowers his arms, wipes his wet and sticky hands on the top of his burlap sack. He peers into it.

“Boy, you can sure tell the Depression isn't exactly over
yet
. Even these millionaire types, eating at Broff's, are gnawing every piece of meat off their T-bone steaks. Poor Tuffy couldn't get those bones much cleaner with that big rough tongue of his, and it's designed for just this kind of work.”

The young cop has come up behind the older one. He has his night stick in his hand. Murph is obviously embarrassed; he looks down at his feet, square-toed black shoes, well shined, classic cop shoes.

“Look, Cap, Broff's complained again. He doesn't want you grubbing through his garbage mornings. This is the fourth time I've caught you at it; next time I'll have to haul you in.”

Cap tilts his cap back, puts his hands on his hips. He smiles, not the golden smile of his childhood, or even the manly, confident smile of the young infantry officer or the cocky race driver; it's a smile of acquiescence, of acceptance, on the border of resignation, defeat.

“Broff complains. You should hear poor Tuffy!”

“We
all
hear Tuffy, Cap. That's another thing. We're getting complaints from every direction. That lion roaring and coughing is keeping half of Wildwood up all night; everybody's nervous. You've got to
do
something.”

The young cop moves closer. He looks into Cap's burlap bag, the open garbage pails; turns away in disgust; holds his nose with his fingers. Murph puts his hand on Cap's shoulder.

“You know how it is, Cap. Broff's a big taxpayer around here and he's got important friends in politics. If he wants me to stop you from pawing through his garbage, I stop you. That's what I'm paid for. That's how I feed the wife and kids. I need my job just like everybody else and I'm only six years from retirement.”

Cap looks down at his sack again, tilts his head, glances over at the fastidious young cop, then back at the sergeant.

“You know, Murph, I went to Broff, asked if he'd hold out the bones and things, put them in a special pail or a sack. I told him I'd pay. He chased me off, said he was going to call the cops, didn't want any bums hanging around his restaurant. You can thank me for something, anyway, at least I got out fast; saved you from having to charge over here again.

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