Baboon

Returning from the coast near dark, we camped the night. at Chyulu gate in Tsavo park. Deserted and run down, the camp seemed cold and inhospitable to visitors. Strange noises in the night, a sense of isolation and slight fear produced a fitful sleep and early morning call. The morning sun raised appetites and spirits too, Not much was left of breakfast food but biscuits and ground coffee. I went to fill the coffee pot and on return a large baboon descended from the car and stopped to stare at me. In one large paw he held our bag of biscuits tight. I yelled, gave chase, and charged across the broken ground. The baboon took flight, worried now, his prize at risk. He ran a strange three legged gait, our biscuits moving bag to mouth. His canine teeth were large and sharp and suddenly my sense returned. I asked myself what I would do should I catch up. I stopped, and when I did he knew he’d won the joust. He stopped. He turned and sat. He smiled, or so it seemed, in insolence. He sat, at leisure now, and one by one he ate with patent pleasure, savouring each biscuit of our breakfast meal. I watched him eat and then, by way of thanks, pass gas.
© David E. Moon, 2014  All rights reserved

Baboon

Returning from the coast near dark, we camped the night. at Chyulu gate in Tsavo park. Deserted and run down, the camp seemed cold and inhospitable to visitors. Strange noises in the night, a sense of isolation and slight fear produced a fitful sleep and early morning call. The morning sun raised appetites and spirits too, Not much was left of breakfast food but biscuits and ground coffee. I went to fill the coffee pot and on return a large baboon descended from the car and stopped to stare at me. In one large paw he held our bag of biscuits tight. I yelled, gave chase, and charged across the broken ground. The baboon took flight, worried now, his prize at risk. He ran a strange three legged gait, our biscuits moving bag to mouth. His canine teeth were large and sharp and suddenly my sense returned. I asked myself what I would do should I catch up. I stopped, and when I did he knew he’d won the joust. He stopped. He turned and sat. He smiled, or so it seemed, in insolence. He sat, at leisure now, and one by one he ate with patent pleasure, savouring each biscuit of our breakfast meal. I watched him eat and then, by way of thanks, pass gas.
© David E. Moon, 2014  All rights reserved