"All in a Warthog's Day" A short story by Joe McCauley Copyright 1996 by Joe McCauley Based on "The Lion King", copyright 1994 by The Walt Disney Company "Timon: Pumbaa, are you nuts? We're talking about a lion! Lions eat guys like us! Pumbaa: But he's so little. Timon: He's gonna get bigger. Pumbaa: Maybe he'll be on our side." -- The Lion King "But it's all in a mouse's night To take on all those who will fight. Cat: There I was with my back to the wall. Then comes this monster mouse, he's ten feet tall With teeth and claws to match. It only took one blow." -- Tony Banks, "All in a Mouse's Night" The sun was hot and shined brightly on the grasslands that bordered the jungle. Pumbaa was out browsing around for some leafy plants to munch on. The insects he and Timon feasted on the day before left him with a case of indigestion, so for today he would content himself with a diet of leaves and other plant matter that was easier on his stomach. Suddenly he thought he heard something. Pumbaa stopped to listen carefully to the sounds around him. He lifted and turned his head slowly, using his ears, eyes and nose to scan the area around him for any sign of danger. He resumed slowly chewing his mouthful of leaves but kept his head up and alert. A sudden blur of movement, and Pumbaa knew right away he was the target of a hunt. He reacted quickly, bolting in the opposite direction. The chase was on! Pumbaa knew that his best strategy in this situation was to head for the thick undergrowth of the jungle, where it would be much more difficult for a predator to keep up with him. Unfortunately, his attacker had come from that direction so he was headed the wrong way. Unless he could outrun his pursuer, he would either have to get turned around or find a burrow. But every time he attempted to turn in that direction, he was cut off. In front of him he saw a rock with a smooth face on one side. Pumbaa leapt toward that side of the rock, twisted his body a little, and deftly pushed off with his back hooves, making a sudden turn. His pursuer couldn't corner as quickly and this opened up his lead a little bit and had him on a better heading for the heavy jungle undergrowth. But it was still quite a ways ahead of him and his attacker was closing the gap again. Pumbaa saw another rock ahead of him he could use for the same maneuver. As he approached it, he leapt and again turned his body to push off the rock. But he noticed out of the corner of his eye that his attacker was already angling in that direction, so at the last instant he righted himself and aborted the maneuver. A fake! Unfortunately he stumbled a little bit when he landed, and though he regained his footing quickly it lost him any distance he might have gained on his pursuer. He was out of ideas for the moment, so all he could do now was to run for all he was worth toward the jungle. He was panting heavily and his legs were getting tired, but he had no other choice. It was all in the nature of being a prey animal, all part of the game. Finally, still well short of the jungle, the hunter was upon him. He could see him beside him, and a moment later, he felt a massive paw come over his body and a mouth on the back of his neck. He had one more trick up his sleeve, one last move of desperation. Pumbaa dropped onto one side and tried to roll out from under the animal on top of him. If he pulled it off right, he would roll over once and come up on his feet, able to flee while his pursuer fell down and lost a lot of time. It worked! Pumbaa rolled free and resumed his flight toward the jungle. "No way! I got you!" a voice called out from behind him. Pumbaa stopped and turned around, panting. "I got away, didn't I?" Simba stood up, also panting, and looked at him. "Only because I was trying not to hurt you." He paused to catch his breath. "You wouldn't have gotten away if I'd been using my teeth and claws like I do when I'm hunting for real." "Okay, I guess you're right," Pumbaa conceded, rubbing the back of his neck against some bushes. "Nice fake you did back there," Simba observed. "If you hadn't stumbled I probably wouldn't have caught you." "Thanks," said Pumbaa gratefully. "You're getting tough to catch, and I even know most of your tricks!" Simba remarked. "Well you've got quite a few yourself, and you're tough to get away from," Pumbaa countered. Pumbaa was proud of himself. He had developed quite a bag of tricks, any of which might be indispensible if he were attacked by a real predator. He and Timon hadn't been too sure about these hunting exercises when Simba first suggested them. One of the first was over almost before it started when Simba dropped out of a tree and knocked them over. But a few days later they looked up, wondering if Simba was waiting to strike again, and saw a leopard. They didn't hang around to find out whether he was hungry or just resting. After that they never questioned the value of these games. As for Simba, he knew he'd never go hungry as long as there was anything to hunt. He made good use of the skills he'd developed chasing Timon and Pumbaa when hunting real prey. Once they caught their breath, the two of them wandered back to the jungle together, jibing and offering each other tips. "I wonder what Timon's up to," Pumbaa mused. "Hey, maybe I can catch him off guard..."