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just watch today, or they might get a chance at the kill themselves.” She grinned, her face flushed, as beautiful as the African vista. “This is new for me too!”
    She and Reena manned their tripods, Reena tossing her digital handheld to Gary. He framed me in front of the camerawomen, switching on the mic.
    “Insulin levels have dropped since the last time they hunted,” I stage-whispered for effect, “and pangs of hunger are driving the lions to hunt again. Wait!” I looked off to the right, then turned back to the camera. “Portia has brought her cubs. Will she be teaching them to hunt today? Let’s watch.” I raised up the binoculars leashed around my neck and Gary switched off mic and camera.
    I could feel Dee’s scowl from behind her lens. She didn’t like to be reminded we were here to entertain not educate.
    With my part done, I was free to watch the hunt. The cubs indeed were getting the chance to participate. Pure gold for the episode. They targeted an antelope herd—Lesser Kudus, Dee called them; bigger than the springboks we saw driving in the day before yesterday, but not so large as some of the other antelopes here, and nowhere near the size of the large wildebeests Dee pointed out grazing further on.
    The female cub, Cleopatra—Cleo, as Dee referred more familiarly to her—rushed the herd first, the kudus squealing in alarm and springing away. Cleo lunged for the kudu that sprang last, but it twisted away from her, and she missed, unable to anticipate its feint or respond quickly enough to it, caught by surprise as she was. A novice mistake, as Dee told us.
    Sulking, Cleo dropped back with her aunt and mother while Caesar took his turn. He stalked up close, but the herd was wary now. Making his rush, he lunged, catching a paw around a kudu neck. He hung for the briefest moment, but the attempt was just short and he fell back, his claw leaving deep gashes in the kudu but missing the kill.
    Beside me, Gary was breathing fast and loud.
    “Knock it off. You’ll hyperventilate.” My admonishment didn’t have much of an effect, but I couldn’t worry about him now as I waited to see what the lionesses would do next.
    They stalked up on the herd again. This time both cubs hung back to watch as Portia and Sheba, their tag-team action nailed, gave chase. Sheba picked out one of the kudu from the herd, forcing it toward Portia. One finely calculated leap and Portia grabbed the kudu’s neck between her powerful forelegs and wrenched the unfortunate beast down.
    “Oh no, no. No. I can’t watch this,” Gary panted.
    Whether it was from broken vertebrae or the jaws clamped around its windpipe to suffocate it, the kudu thrashed a couple of times, then went still, half-hidden from us in the tall grass. Portia backed away.
    From further behind where the cubs waited, Brutus and Nana strolled up to the kill like the royalty they were to feast first on the tastiest bits before the lionesses who’d made the kill joined them. Only then were the cubs allowed up.
    By then, bald-headed vultures were already alighting, hopping on the ground nearby, waiting for the lions to eat their fill and leave.
    “Give me 30 feet,” Reena called to me. “And wear a mic.”
    I popped the Bluetooth clip-on to my collar, then struck out across the grass toward the feeding lions, Reena’s camera following me.
    “What the—?”
    Dee swearing behind me was something I trusted to Gary to handle. Right now my full attention had to be on the lions and the camera. Stopping about midway out, close enough that Brutus and his harem paused their eating as I approached but not close enough to fluster the vultures, I turned halfway back around so I didn’t take my eyes off the lions but so I could address my future audience directly.
    “These cubs learned two vital lessons today: first, the importance of teamwork, and second, that it takes three things to be a successful lion—practice, practice, practice.”
    Impatience got the