Click here for nice stories main menu

main menu   |   youngsters categories   |   authors   |   new stories   |   search   |   links   |   settings   |   author tools


Surviving Isn't Always That Easy (standard:adventure, 13697 words)
Author: COLAdded: Aug 08 2003Views/Reads: 3589/2612Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
My story takes place amid the bounty of the African wilderness. A lion cub loses his mom to poachers and faces life alone- with one friend- against all the hazards lying under every rock. His adventures are full of tension, horror and fantasy. Follow hi
 



The scorching sun hung high in the infinite azure Tanzanian sky. I lay
down, gazing at it pensively. I thought about the jocular time I used 
to spend with Dusk. We were not only blood brothers, but also brothers 
in heart, imparting everything with one another. I'd always known that 
one day he would leave the pride; begin a life of his own. He was 
compelled to do that; it was just nature's way. But still, I missed him 
so much. “Come on, Spot”, my mom urged. “I know it hurts. I miss him 
too but thinking about him will just exacerbate it. You know it won't 
bring him back.” “Yea mom, I know'', I responded dejectedly. My mom was 
extremely valetudinarian about Dusk but she'd always repressed it 
because she knew expressing it would make me even more disheartened. 
Dusk had left two days ago. Part of me wished I could also go, spend my 
life roaming unfettered the plains of the magnificent Serengeti nature 
preserve along with him, but I still had a long way to go. I was only 
two months old- it would be at least two more years until I could take 
off. I wasn't even weaned yet- my entire diet was composed of mom's 
milk. The den was still my sanctuary and mom wouldn't even let me join 
the pride. I was isolated completely in order to ensure me the utmost 
protection. It came not out of her torpor or reluctance to expose me to 
the other pride members but of pure love and concern for my well-being. 
The best I'd managed to extract from her was to occasionally sojourn 
outside the den for a little while. Leaving the den was the first step. 
It meant that I would live among the other pride members and they would 
protect me. The final step was leaving the pride itself, which led to 
an independent life. Once a Lion left the pride it'd have to fend for 
itself.  For now, however, I remained surrounded by the thick scrub 
that composed my den. At least it shaded me from the sun. She was the 
perfect mom. Still, I sometimes felt she'd crossed the line when it 
came to my aegis, but just like she had confronted me, I was young and 
mischievous, often taking frivolously the required safety precautions 
for a Lion cub as myself. After all, the den was there to protect me 
and conceal me from the outside world. If I were exposed to other 
animals, especially those who were not members of the pride, I would 
face constant grave danger. Surely, most animals would not be 
apprehended by an anemic cub. Even a grown Lion wouldn't hesitate to 
turn me into a meal on sight. Well, that's what moms are for, I guess. 
My life, at least since Dusk had left, revolved around sleeping. Since 
I was so young, that was rather natural bearing in mind that I wasn't 
ripe enough to conduct my life among the pride's adults. Fortunately, 
my mom noticed that and frequently showed up so that we could play. 
Nevertheless, I missed playing with him. Even when he'd been there, I'd 
have many listless hours so you can imagine how bored I became without 
him next to me. I was totally alone in the den. 

The light, constant zephyr rustled the ubiquitous green leaves. The
rainy season had just gone by and everything was still sheathed with 
lush, comely verdure. The bounty was absolutely dazzling. I could see 
enormous herds of Buffalo, Wildebeests, Impalas, Zebras, and any 
species I could come up with. The sheer exuberance of the fantastic 
wildlife was exhilarating. Most exciting, perhaps apprehending was a 
herd of Elephants grazing close to the den. In fact, a little too 
close. My mom hurriedly picked me up in her menacing jaws and bolted 
off to find a new covert locus, which would be safe enough for me to 
reside in for now. The subtlety of her grasp had always been soothing, 
its versatility incredible. She would do this every couple of days, as 
“Hyenas and other predators are always on the qui vive”, she had 
explained. And if she didn't move me frequently, one was bound to find 
me. I never did understand the meaning of the word “predator”. I 
remember Dusk once told me that our whole ecosystem, and the entire 
world for that matter, is constructed of a certain mechanism or process 
called “The Food Chain”. He'd said that every species was dependent on 
all the others to survive. This perplexed me since I depended only on 
my mom for everything. Maybe it was due to the perpetual confinement I 
was in, which forestalled any chance of me profoundly observing the 
milieu. Anyway, Dusk had promised to teach me about the food chain 
thing but he never had the time. I guess he had just forgotten when it 
was time for him to leave. “Spot!” my mother blared, “you can't keep 
thinking about him. It'll only make you feel worse.” It was as if she 
was able to read my mind. She was very perspicacious. “It's not like I 
have anything better to do, mom”, I groused. “Don't start. I told you- 
soon I'll introduce you to the pride and you can do whatever you want. 
Just please stop pouting about Dusk. You know how hard it is for me to 
see you doleful.” She caressed me and smiled. “OK mom, I'll try. But I 
can't just forget about him. You know mom, sometimes when you're not 
around I feel all alone, like there's nobody I can ever talk to.” “Oh, 


Click here to read the rest of this story (1052 more lines)



Authors appreciate feedback!
Please write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
COL has 1 active stories on this site.
Profile for COL, incl. all stories
Email: Nimni_8@hotmail.com

stories in "adventure"   |   all stories by "COL"  






Nice Stories @ nicestories.com, support email: nice at nicestories dot com
Powered by StoryEngine v1.00 © 2000-2020 - Artware Internet Consultancy