JEDDAH, 4 April 2003 — The bull buffalo, the leader of the herd, is isolated and cornered. The pride of lions is constantly changing its strategy, partly to confuse its prey, some of them making short rushes forward. The bull is giving the impression of standing its ground, although nervous and foaming at the mouth.
The rest of the herd is content to watch the proceedings from a distance, happy in the knowledge that today is not their day to be gathered to their fathers. They have escaped to live another day.
As the predators shorten the circle, the scavengers — hyenas, jackals and the high-flying vultures — plot their own strategy: what part of the dead buffalo will they be lucky to grab and run off with — portions of the hide, the horns, the entrails, the hoofs or bones?
Meanwhile, some among the TV audience watching the show speculate how long the lions will wait before going for the kill or whether some of them will in fact be seriously injured as the bull wildly swings its horns from side to side in a hopeless attempt to fend off the attackers.
The bull was duly felled and the pride allowed the cubs to have a close look. But the scavengers were kept at bay and waited for the lions to finish their meal.
I was watching this at a National/Panasonic shop window in Jeddah’s Balad district recently. It was time for me to leave. But on my way home, I felt sorry, not for the bull, but for the rest of the herd of buffaloes.