We climbed over the top of a hill,
where a small bush area and a small rocky dip hid two Lions laying in a deep rest at the end of the day. One Lion was a very large male. His black mane with a golden “v” by his chest was a mark of his royalty. He was the King of the Pride. An Alpha female lay on the ground next to him. As the storm built in the west against the setting sun, the King and the Alpha mated in a ritualistic repetition over, and over and over again. In wonder, I watched from the top of the Land Rover, shooting pictures of their mating ritual.
in detail the same process moving in front of her, touching her face with this muzzle, then moving behind her, bending over her, softly nipping her ears, then mounting her as he placed his mouth over her head.
.The Lions perform this mating process
over, and over again for sometimes up to five days in a row. They don’t eat, or stop in the process until after complete exhaustion, the sleep only to awake and part from each other. The scenes you can see here took place near the end of their several days of mating, and I was blessed to see it as the sky turned red and the storm climbed over the setting sun in the west. We drove home in the dark. The Next day, we once again set out to find the elusive Leopard and the “mystery pride.” Late in the day, we found the pride, late into afternoon, near dark.
as a young female sprinted out into the great herds and drove them apart. As she charged, the herd would split in giant waves, circle around her and come back together. Each and every time she charged, the same result would take place. Soon, from far off in the distance she returned-as she came close to the pride hiding in the bush; she crouched down almost in embarrassment from her failures. The Alpha female came out and nuzzled the top of her head as if to say, “good try.” Later, as darkness crept up and out of the riverbeds, the Alpha headed off towards the herds beginning to congregate near the river. She would crouch low to the ground, move quickly about 50 yards and then lie close to the ground and look back.
About the third or fourth time
she did that, three younger females headed out in the opposite direction to take up their post, hidden out on the plain. The plan was clear, once it turned dark; she was going to drive the herd from the river up and out across the rising plain into the awaiting ambush.
The young female who had failed earlier, lay on the ground while a baby cub pounced on her, and lay across her head.
. They truly are royal families on the Masai Mara plains. While they’re efficient killers, they are but the end of the chain in an ancient give and take of life and death on the African plains. Enjoy...The Ghostbear!
