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better of one of the hungry vultures. It dodged in, wings flapping to distract the big cats and escaped with a gobbet of meat to enjoy. I watched the little drama, then turned back to the camera with a grin. “Oh, and a third lesson—never take your eyes off your lunch.”
    As I switched the mic off, Reena waved me back with a hurried hand. Something was up.
    Suddenly Brutus’ head reared up, his nose high, casting for scent. He whuffed , a sound of irritation.
    I took another step back. He growled.
    Another step.
    He swung his head and growled again.
    Two more steps. Only 20 more to go.
    Sheba was on alert now too. I didn’t know if she had hackles to raise, but by her posture they would be if she did. Growling, she padded around in a circle.
    Two more steps.
    The rest of the pride was clearly agitated now.
    It sunk in at last that I wasn’t the target. They knew I was there and weren’t making eye contact, or even looking my way.
    And then I saw why.
    A pack of dogs stalked into view.
    No, not dogs. This was Africa. What I first took for spotted dogs now showed themselves to be some mutant-looking thing, like a hybrid cross between a coyote and a cheetah, with rounded ears and mouths that were all teeth. And the sound they were making was something between a choked chirp and a yip that resolved itself into a frustrated, high-pitched demonic laugh that couldn’t have been coming from these creatures…but was.
    Hyenas.
    With the lions distracted, my retreat was steady and confident now. Dignified. I hoped either Reena or Dee was following my progress, but both cameras were turned on the hyenas as they circled closer to the lions and their kill.
    “Surely they aren’t going to challenge the lions.” There were eight hyenas by my count, each between half and three-quarters the weight of the cubs. Surprisingly large for what I’d imagined a hyena to be. Still, a challenge would be either very brave or very stupid. And I suspected nothing survived for long out here by being stupid.
    “No,” Dee said. “If there were only one or two lions, maybe. Just the cubs, certainly. With six lions they’re going for the annoyance factor. Imagine a group of kids around the dinner table asking, ‘Are you done yet? Are you done yet? Are you done yet?’ repeatedly. They’ll make pests of themselves until the lions finally reach the point when they’re full enough and the hyenas annoying enough that hanging around isn’t worth it.”
    “Why don’t the lions do something?”
    “Like attack? Takes too much energy when it’s not life-threatening. I have seen the lions take a swipe or two at hyenas that got a little too close, and even seen a half-hearted chase or two, but no real fights. A pack of hyenas against a single lion, though, I’m betting on the hyenas. They can be mean little devils.”
    For another 30 minutes the lions fed, putting up with the ever-escalating squabbling from the hyenas. Finally, as fascinating as it was to watch, even I was reaching my tolerance point. Using binoculars, I could see the lions had done a lot of damage to the carcass, taking it down nearly to the bones. Portia tugged at a hindquarter that still had some meat on it and dragged it with her when the lions finally left the table to go back home.
    “Her doggy bag.” Dee grinned. “She’s had to bring something home for the cubs for the last few months. I guess that’s going to be a hard habit to break.”
    The pride had only begun to troop off when the hyenas fell over the leftovers, snapping at the vultures that closed in with them. Already another circle of scavengers—kites and meerkats and badgers and more—was beginning to form.
    “And after them, tonight, the smaller vermin and lizards will come, and after them all the insects. Nothing of that kudu will go to waste,” Dee pointed out.
    “Fine to say if you aren’t the kudu,” Gary piped in. “That was horrible.”
    I knew Dee held little love for Gary, so when she faced