Shaka banished. (sequel to flight of Robben Island)


Last week I told you about Shaka who, against the ban of the tribal eldest, fired a rifle. I have had some nice reactions to this. Comments that I really want to do with, but I keep the tension in that. Today we continue with Shaka and his development towards a grown man. (the other parts can be found in the references under my blog).

#shortstory

Photo of Pixabay: Jochemy

Shaka reads the pain on the face of the tribal oldest. He's having a hard time. Guilfully Shaka knocks his eyes down.

The tribal elder begins to speak: “Take her and take care of her, I will come later".

Several tribal members have now laid Shaka's mother on a kind of stretcher. She will be taken. For a moment she caves her eyes and looks at her son. Some kind of resignation, encouragement comes from her.

Shaka looks at her mouth. She seems to say something: “Thank you!"


Incomprehension makes Shaka master. Thankyou? After what he just did?


“Shaka". The tribal elder turns to him again. “we can not tolerate this. Your mother will be taken care of, she has nothing to do with this, and rest assured, she will make it. But as long as she's taken care of, you're not welcome inside the walls, you're gonna have to save yourself.

Shaka nods, he understands the choice of the tribal elder, it will become heavy and maybe even impossible, but he resigns to it.

Also the tribal elder disappears to the gate.


There he is, abandoned, alone, his mother can't help him anymore.


Shaka is not the person who is going to sit down thinking about his. loss, he has learned a lot and knows what to do. Food, drink and a place to stay overnight. The forest offers all this. The lake has plenty of water, and in the forest there are several caves that he has already explored on his treacheries with his friends.


First Shaka follows the trail of blood. The trail that runs into the forest.

Again he hears moaning, and with every step towards the sound, it changes, it becomes growling, a deep throat sound.

there! In the forest, by a tree! A leopard! He looks at him, but does nothing. On its head you can see a large red stripe. The animal is wounded!

Carefully Shaka sneaks closer. He sees the muscles of this giant animal. The clearing is not large. Shaka doesn't stand a chance against the speed and strength of this predator.


The sweat gushes over Shaka's body, tension, pure tension. No, no fear. Shaka rests in his destiny, but he won't be easy to give himself won.

The paws of the predator slide under his body. He's getting ready for the jump. Shaka brakes himself too. In his hand he has a knife, homemade, made of pieces of iron that must once have belonged to the Dutch.

For a moment they stand there, grasping, grasping, who makes the first move?

Shaka loses his balance at the next step and immediately hears a roar.

He's waiting for the claws to be drilled into his body, but nothing happens.


Shaka opens his eyes and sees how, now only half a meter away, the leopard has landed on the ground. Apparently too tired or too badly injured to be able to really work out.

Shaka gets up and walks calmly towards the leopard. There's something above his eyes with that big wound.

The leopard allows his touch. Shaka feels and has a round ball in his hand. A ball that he put in a gun a few hours ago.


He didn't hurt his mother, he saved her!