He glanced down at the hyena. The eyes turned to look back at him. Though Habu was still frightened, he understood that he was in no immediate danger. He stepped around the blood-spattered body as the eyes followed him, and trotted off to find his mother. Amarakh still lay twisted in the knot of her final death spasm. He had liked Amarakh, but he was frightened and could not bring himself to touch her lacerated body.
“Momma! Momma!”
He ran down the steep switchbacks of the trail leading to the ground. There at the base of Pride Rock, he stopped for a moment to look at his friend Taka who lay with a gaping wound on his abdomen. He trembled and headed to the sad lion that had stared at him balefully. Taka had been his friend, and he shoved him with a paw. “Are you OK? Taka?” He walked about, but the eyes did not follow him or blink. “You’re dead, aren’t you?” It was a foolish question. “Poor Taka.” He reached out and gently stroked his mane. “I guess you’re gone to see Jona.”
It was his first time to see a dead lion. Sad and confused, he wandered off to find someone--anyone--that could tell him where Isha was. He prayed that she was not with Jona too.
It began to rain. The pelting drops from the sky were a new experience for him, and he watched as the ash on the ground began to run in gray rivulets across the parched earth before being absorbed.
“Habu??”
Habusu’s heart almost went into his mouth. “Mom??”
Isha came running across the scorched earth. “Oh thank gods!!” She fell to her side and with a quick swipe of her paw, pulled his squirming, happy body to her heart and kissed him repeatedly. “My little boy! Oh gods, I was going crazy with worry! Don’t EVER run off like that again!”
Miss Priss rubbed against his mud-spattered body. “Habu!” She was usually very affectionate to him, but this time she spared no degree of effort, kissing him and pawing his face until his heart swam.
A large male lion with a wet but still impressive russet mane strode toward Pride Rock past them.
“Who’s that, Mom?”
“That’s Simba! He’s the true king! Wave at him!”
Habusu rose, covered with ash and mud, and waved his paw. Simba turned and nodded at him.
“Did you see that, Mom?? He winked at me!”
“He sure did, honey tree!”
The old mandrill Rafiki stood at the base of the promontory and hopped impatiently as the lion ascended the trail leading up Pride Rock. He glanced at Taka, shook his head, then spoke with the mandrill.
“What’s going to happen?” Habu asked.
“He’s going to climb the rock and roar for us. Then he’ll be king of the Pride Lands.”
“Is he going to do it now?”
“Soon. Just watch.”
Trembling with emotion, Isha drew Habu to her side and watched through the rain as Mufasa’s son ascended the granite promontory. The hyenas were gone, and hope for the future made her heart swell and filled her eyes with tears.
"Gods forgive me," Isha said, "but I never thought I would live to see this day. Look, Habu! There is your king!"
Habu watched the lion come to the end of the promontory. He had never known Mufasa, but he heard so many wonderful things about him that he thrilled to see his son come home and take his place as king. The infectious joy and hope affected him deeply, and he nearly danced with an excitement that seemed to fall in the rain, blow in the winds and bubble up from inside all at once.
Simba looked down at his faithful pride. Habu nudged his Mom. “Look, he’s looking at us!”
“Shhh, Honey Tree! Watch! You’ll want to tell your grandkids about this.”
Silhouetted against the sky, Simba looked up expectantly. As if to answer him, a rift opened in the clouds and he saw the stars. Drawing in a deep breath, he sounded a thunderous roar.
Isha and the other lionesses poured out their soul, their sounds echoing and blending in a joyous song of triumph.
CHAPTER: THE CRISIS
When good news is too good to be true, it’s sure to be followed by something bad. Simba’s return to the Pride Lands offered hope to the despondent and strength to the weary. But Isha found her rejoicing cut short when realized her most precious possession was missing--Habu was nowhere to be found.
Simba and Nala were just waking up after their first night home. Before they could go for a morning drink at the cistern, Isha bounded into their cave, wild-eyed. "Forgive my intrusion, Incosi, but I can't find my son! Please help me!" Isha was nearly incoherent. "I let him go play with Uzuri's cubs' but they don't know where he went and he won't answer me!"
"Calm down, Isha." Nala touched her with her tongue. "Think now, where did you see him last?"
"I was lying in the grassy spot over by the north face. He went off to play with Togo and Kombi. I told him to stay near Uzuri but he didn't listen." She struck the ground with her paw. "I should never have let him go!"
Uzuri slinked in morosely. "I can't find him, Isha. I don't know where he went, but I found out why." She frowned at her twins who tried to look small and inconspicuous. "It seems Togo and Kombi were playing a little...rough." She patted Isha comfortingly. "Don't worry, Hon, he's probably just sulking somewhere."
"That's just it; he always comes when I call him, no matter what mood he's in. He's such a good boy." She buried her face into Uzuri’s shoulder and sobbed. “My son! My little son!”
Simba glanced at Nala. "Oh boy. I'm gonna go ask Rafiki if he can help. Maybe he'll know where to look. In the meanwhile, get some search parties organized."
Simba worked his way quickly down the rock, then ran unbroken toward Rafiki’s acacia. Isha had taken several bites meant for him during The Great Battle, and he felt suitably grateful. “Aiheu, help us! Isha deserves better than this.” By the large trunk of the tree he stopped breathless, looking up into the branches. “Rafiki! Rafiki?? Are you awake??"
"Indeed I am. What is all the commotion about?"
“Habusu is lost. Can you do anything to help us? We have to find him quickly, before something else does."
Rafiki started. "Aiheu forbid--I will try."
Back at Pride Rock, Isha was going crazy with worry. Nala was stroking her with a paw, nuzzling her. “We will find him, Auntie Isha. I promise.”
“How can you promise something like that?” Isha trembled. “You can’t! What if he’s dead already?? What if he’s fallen into a sinkhole?? Maybe he’s calling for me!”
“Easy, girl! Easy! Don’t think such things!”
Simba came running back to the cave with a frantic looking Rafiki on his back clinging to his mane.
Isha stepped out of the cave, looking hopeful, but her face fell when she saw no sign of her cub.
"Isha, my poor dear," Rafiki said, running up and hugging her neck. "Do not fret. We will find your child." He quickly set up his scrying bowl and filled it with water from a gourd he carried. “Do you have anything that he might have touched or played with in the past day or so? An old bone, perhaps?"
"No, he doesn't play with toys very much; he likes to pounce and wrestle more than anything else."
Rafiki frowned. "Hmm. That will make it more difficult; I don't think I'll be able to find him without something."
Isha said, “How about some dead grass? I made him a soft place to sleep."
He paused, stroking the flowing white hair which grew from his chin. "Yes. Yes indeed."
She brought a small mouthful of dry grass, but he only took a few strands. She watched closely as he dropped the grass into the bowl, where it floated about in a small circle. Isha and Simba peered over his shoulder with interest as Rafiki made a short prayer, then studied the pattern of ripples in the water. “Makpelah the Circle. He lives.”