The Thorn Tree Cafe

I was mute for a few seconds. Women of that time would never breathe a word about any undergarment while in the presence of a man. Like most men, I was aware women wore underclothes, but they never spoke of them in mixed company.

"Well, khaki's and boots are much better in the bush. I am just surprised a woman would wear them."

"Why? It is not as if I were standing here naked, now is it?"

I had a fleeting vision of what Lisa might look like naked before answering.

"No, but..."

Lisa chuckled.

"Are you trying to say my appearance is somehow upsetting to you?"

"Not upsetting...perhaps interesting is a better word."

"As you are a man, by interesting, I assume you mean titillating. I fail to see how it might be since I am completely covered. I fear you must accustom yourself to my way of dress. Other than my nightdress, this is the only clothing I brought, and it is not likely you will observe me in my nightdress. Now, should we not be getting started?"

Lisa was indeed interesting, and her unusual dress was indeed arousing. She seemed to turn this way or that at times I happened to be looking, and those turns would either widen the gap of her shirt or tighten the pants around her hips. The ride from the hotel to my base camp was thankfully somewhat rough, and all the jostling about allowed my manhood to find a comfortable position pointing up at my belt buckle. Unfortunately, as the brassiere had yet to be invented, the jostling also caused Lisa's unrestrained breasts to move softly about and maintain my state of arousal.

It took all morning for the porters and cook staff to get all the supplies and equipment packed into the loads they would carry. The cook fixed lunch for us at about eleven, and at one the rest of the safari - the second and third gunbearers, the cook staff, and of course the porters - began the trip to the first camping spot of the safari. I started off through the bush with Lisa and Mjumba, my head gun bearer and tracker. Lisa said she wanted to see as much of the animal life as possible, and I knew there was usually a herd of Thompson's gazelles grazing the area about half a mile from my base camp. Where there were tommies, there were sure to be lions and possibly a leopard.

Even if we didn't find a lion or two, I needed meat for the porters as well as for Lisa and myself. Tommies were plentiful and one would feed the entire safari for two meals. Since there was no portable refrigeration back then, meat hunting was something I did every other day or so.

Half an hour's walk from the base camp, Mjumba quickly walked in a crouch to the crest of a small rise. After peeking over the edge for a few moments, he ran back with a grin on his face.

"Tommies and zebra, and lions."

We walked up to the crest and when our silhouettes would have been seen against the horizon, I told Lisa we'd have to crawl the rest of the way. She didn't so much as bat an eye. She just dropped to all fours and began following Mjumba. When we were close to the edge, Mjumba dropped to his belly and inched forward. Lisa did the same. I was a bit behind her then, and the sight of her hips working as she crawled along made me forget about anything else until she peeked over the edge and gasped.

I smiled at her reaction to the sight. Most people spend a lot of time doing that on their first trip to Africa, and the same sight never fails to cause a feeling of awe in me too.

The herd of a couple hundred Tommies grazed over several acres of grassland, though there were always several of their delicate, horned heads raised and looking in all directions for predators. A few of this year's fawns kept to the sides of their mothers. I suspected the lone females on the edges of the herd also had fawns, but the fawns were hiding in the grass where the does had left them.

The bucks had each staked out a territory and spent most of the time running back and forth amongst the grazing does hoping to find one in season. If two bucks got too close to each other, a mock fight would commence, though neither touched the other. It was only a warning for each buck to stay in his own territory.

When a buck approached a doe, he would sniff under her tail, then raise his head in the air and curl his upper lip up towards his nostrils. I knew he was testing each doe to determine if she was ready to breed.

Behind the tommies a herd of about a hundred zebras also grazed, their black and white stripes blending into a confusing mass that made it difficult to distinguish one zebra from another. Under a thorn tree off to the left, a small pride of lions languished in the shade. Though both the tommies and the zebras were aware of the lions and kept looking in that direction, they weren't concerned. Lions tend to stay in the shade during the hot afternoons and hunt when the heat of the day cools.

Lisa started to stand up, but I put my hand on her back to keep her on her stomach.

"Stay down or they'll run."

Her eyes were open wide and her mouth was hanging open. She looked at me.

"There are so many."

"Yes, tommies and zebra are pretty common."

"Why are some of the tommies running about while the others just move slowly and graze?"

I pointed to one side of the herd.

"The ones running are the bucks -males - like that one over there. They're trying to find a doe who is ready to breed."

Lisa chuckled.

"That would be why he's smelling her backside then."

"Yes, if she's ready, he'll know by the way she smells. When he curls up his upper lip like he just did, he's finding out how ready she is. If she's ready, he'll mount her and breed her. There, in the center, that's what's going on right now."

The buck followed the doe until she stopped walking, then reared up and straddled her body with his front legs. They were too far away to see any detail, but once he held the doe between his legs, the buck began thrusting with his hips. The doe began to walk again, and he followed her by using his back legs while his hips continued the thrusting motion. The doe stopped again, the buck gave a few rapid thrusts, and then dropped back to the ground panting. The doe just moved off to graze some more.

Lisa giggled.

"It looked like the buck enjoyed himself. I'm not sure the doe even knew what was happening."

"Oh, she knew or she wouldn't have let him. She'd have run off if she wasn't as ready as he thought she was. He'd have kept trying though. It's Nature's way of making sure there are plenty of tommies around."

Lisa chuckled.

"He's just like a man I once knew - always wanting to try."

I wasn't sure how to reply to that, so I didn't say anything for a while. We just stayed down and watched. As sometimes happens, the zebra thought the grass looked better in the area closest to our position and moved toward us. As the zebras began to slowly mill closer, they were still watching the lions. In a few minutes time, they were only a hundred yards or so away.

Lisa giggled softly.

"I see zebra males are the same as the tommies. That's what that one closest to us is doing, isn't it?"

It was. The stallion was walking slowly behind three mares and sniffing. One of the mares raised her tail and a stream of urine splashed on the ground. The stallion squealed, trotted up to the wet place on the ground, and lowered his muzzle. After inhaling a couple of times, he raised his head high, curled up his lip and stood there inhaling the mare's scent.

"Yes, he's doing the same thing. He thinks at least one of those mares is ready. He's testing one now."

Lisa caught her breath.

"That's not all he's doing."

The stallion's organ had distended from the sheath and hung down in an arc almost to the ground. He dropped his head then, trotted to the mare, and started nuzzling her sides. The mare spread her back legs a little and moved her tail to the side.

In a second, the stallion mounted her and clamped his teeth onto her neck. His organ stiffened straight, and he began probing under the mare's tail. After a few tries, he found the right place and staggered forward as his organ slid inside the mare.

Lisa whispered.

"He's so long."

His hips pumped rapidly a few times, and then a gush of white flowed out around his pumping organ and dripped to the ground.

After a few more thrusts, the stallion slid off the mare's back and another stream of white spewed from the tip of his rigid member. Lisa gasped.

"Is there always so much...so much...semen?"

"Yes, for the same reason as his length. The mare's...the place he has to reach is pretty far inside her. His length lets him get there and the amount is to better his chances of successfully breeding her."

"So there are lots of zebras too?"

"Well, yes. Tommies and zebras are two of the animals lions eat so there are a lot of them. If there were fewer tommies and zebras, there would be fewer lions. It's Nature's way of controlling the population of animals."

"It looks like there are lots of mares and only a few stallions. How do the lions know not to kill the stallions?"

"They don't know, but it doesn't matter. Lions can't run fast enough or long enough to bring down a tommie or a zebra, male or female, that's young and in good health. They only kill the old and the weak. That's Nature again, culling out the worst of the herd. Lions and leopards and wild dogs will take a foal or a fawn if they get the chance though. That's another reason the tommie and zebra males work so hard to breed the females. There have to be enough young each year to make up for the ones the lions and other predators take."

The lion pride was moving, and Lisa noticed.

"Are the lions going to hunt now?"

"Probably not. It's still too hot. They're just moving back in the shade."

She chuckled.

"I can understand that. I'm sweating."

I had been too interested in the animals to look at Lisa, but I did then and she was right. There were dark stains under her arms that extended around to the swell of the sides of her breasts, and the seat of her pants was starting to get dark as well. The way she was lying, the pants had molded themselves to her firm hips. I willed my manhood to stay down and asked if she was done watching for a while.

"You're going to shoot one now, aren't you?"

"Yes, we need the meat, but don't worry. There are more and bigger herds than this. We'll also see wildebeest, kudu, and lots of other animals that are prey for lions."

"I suppose we do have to eat, don't we? You won't shoot a male though, will you?"

"Yes, I will. I don't know which does have young, and there are always plenty of bucks. That group off to the right are young bucks who couldn't chase an older buck away from his breeding territory. The strongest of them will take his place."

I tapped Mjumba on the shoulder and he handed me my bolt-action Rigby Mauser. The closest tommie buck jumped straight into the air when the.275 caliber bullet smashed through his heart and then fell flat on the ground. The rest of the two herds immediately ran off over the next ridge, and the lions grudgingly got up and slowly followed them.

Mjamba quickly skinned the buck and cut the carcass into quarters. He carried two and I carried two as we made our way back to the new camp. When we arrived, my cook and his helpers took the quarters to the kitchen tent. I asked Lisa if she wanted a cup of tea. She chuckled.

"I believe I should use the facilities first. You do have facilities, do you not?"

"Yes...not what you had in the hotel in Nairobi though. The small tent behind yours is the latrine. There is a seat over a pit and tissue for your use."

"Ah...I see. Well, I did wish to experience Africa. Would you have facilities for washing as well?"

"I have a shower with cold water. If you would rather, I can have one of my men bring a pail of hot water to your tent."

She smiled.

"I think the pail of water will suffice today. If you would be so kind..."

With that, she walked off to the latrine. I asked the cook to warm a pail of water and take it to her tent, then sat down in a chair under the dining fly. An hour later, Lisa came out of her tent in fresh khakis and smiled at me.

"I'd love that cup of tea now. I feel like a person again."

After one of the cook's helpers brought our tea, I asked Lisa what type of book she was writing. She smiled.

"I think it's probably going to be a romantic story about a woman who goes to Africa, falls in love with the country, then finds a man and falls in love with him and decides to stay there. Women like reading that sort of thing, or so the publishers tell me. I'm not really certain why. I'd much prefer to go out and experience the real thing rather than reading about another woman doing it. I suppose I might think differently if I was like most women with a household to run and children to take care of."

I had to chuckle.

"Most women I know don't really like Africa. It's usually hot, in the rainy season everything turns to mud, and there aren't many places to socialize in Nairobi like there are in London."

"Well, my heroine wouldn't like it at first either, but once she'd seen the animals and the country, she would realize it was a paradise. Once she met the man, she wouldn't want to live anywhere else."

Lisa chuckled.

"Some women are like that, you know. When they find the man of their dreams, they'll go anywhere and do anything to stay with him. I don't think I'd like being tied down to a family and all that entails, but some women live for that."

I nodded my head.

"I know, because my mother did. My father was in the Royal Army, and she followed him to India, then to China, and finally to Africa. She always said she liked China because the people were so polite. I don't think she liked Africa much and she definitely didn't like India, but she stayed with him."

"Do they still live here?"

"No. When my father retired, they moved back to England."

I chuckled.

"She wrote me that the best things about England were the temperature, running water, and toilets."

Lisa smiled.

"After using your facilities, I can understand. It's rather odorous and the seat is a bit rough. If the facilities in India and China are as bad, I think I'd have gone back to England and stayed there."

"Oh, she had a modern toilet at home in Nairobi, but if she was away from home, the facilities were much the same as mine except with no paper. India was worse. There were no facilities except on the garrison grounds. The general population used the fields or railroad tracks."

"And China?"

"China is different in a lot of ways, and the toilets are more so. You must squat to use them. They do sometimes have paper though."

Lisa laughed.

"I believe I can do without visiting India or China then."

We talked about what we would do the next day then, but in the back of my mind, I was still amazed by Lisa. She seemed to have no modesty about things most women would never speak of. Perhaps a woman might talk about toilets with her husband, but never with anyone else except another woman and then only in private. Lisa was quickly becoming the most remarkable woman I'd ever met.

After dinner, Lisa and I sat in chairs at the edge of camp and watched the sun drop below the thorn trees. She asked if I'd brought any whisky along.

I had, of course. I always took along a few bottles of spirits on every safari. Most men enjoy a drink or two after a day in the bush. I usually had two bottles each of the best bourbon, gin, vodka, and of course, scotch whisky. Americans seemed to prefer bourbon though I could not accustom myself to the sweet taste. The English would want either scotch whisky or gin with the requisite dose of tonic water, the Russians, vodka straight from the bottle. The Indians tended to request any of the four, and sometimes brought their own. The spirits traveled in a special padded case carried by one porter, and I'd made sure the case was filled before meeting Lisa.

A lion roared somewhere in the distance as I handed Lisa a small glass of my favorite single malt. She took a sip, mouthed it a bit, and then swallowed.

"Ah...the perfect way to end my first day in Africa - a beautiful sunset, the sounds of the animals in the distance, and a really good whisky to relax. Would you not agree?"

I chuckled.

"I do enjoy hearing the animals, and of course, a good whisky is always a pleasure. I don't look at the sunset very often. I'm usually too busy."

Lisa looked at me and smiled.

"Busy doing what?"

"Most men on safari want some entertainment in the evening. Usually that's a game of cards, or maybe chess, and I sit in on the games. They also want to hear stories about Africa and hunting, so I have a few I tell."

Lisa swirled the whisky in her glass.

"I don't play cards or chess, but I do like hearing stories. I would suppose your stories are all about facing death from some charging animal."

I shrugged.

"I have done that, so some of them are. They seem to like those the best."

"Tell me one."

I told the story of being charged by a lion a client had wounded. It is always the practice of a professional hunter to never leave a wounded animal in the bush. A wounded animal will suffer grievously before it finally dies, and often will attack anyone who comes near. We follow the blood trail until we find the animal and then either finish it off ourselves, or if it is a client's trophy, let him do the honors if he's able. This was one of those cases.

"My client wasn't a particularly good shot, and had hit the lion in the foreleg instead of the chest. His leg was injured badly but not broken and he ran off. I waited for half an hour to let the lion stop running, find a place to hide, and stiffen up a little. Then, my tracker began following the blood trail.

"We heard the growl of a lion coming from a stand of brush in front of us. Lions usually don't make a sound if they're surprised. They just slink away quietly. The growl told me this had to be the wounded lion warning us to stay away. I cautioned my client to be ready with his rifle safety off and the butt on his shoulder because if the lion charged, it would happen fast. We began walking toward the stand of brush and looking for the lion.

"We were twenty feet from the brush when the lion growled again and then burst from the growth. Lions get up to speed within a couple of leaps, and that only takes them seconds. I had my rifle to my shoulder and trained on the lion, waiting for my client to shoot. I finally did when the lion made the second leap into the air. Another would have brought him right on top of us.

"The bullet from my double rifle knocked him down, but he got back up. It took the second barrel to put him down for good. I turned to apologize to my client for shooting his lion, but saw only his rifle lying on the ground. My tracker was grinning."

"Lion come out, man run away."

"I stepped off the distance from where my client had stood to where the lion fell. It was about six feet. If I hadn't shot, my client would have been ripped to shreds. My tracker skinned out the lion while I went looking for my client. I found him up a thorn tree about thirty feet away. The tree was pretty large so it didn't have many thorns on the trunk, but what there were had scratched the man pretty badly when he shinnied up the trunk. I told him he was no longer in danger and to come down. It took me an hour to disinfect all the scratches from the thorns and bandage them.

"He must have thought he could run away and save himself. I didn't tell him the lion would have caught him before he'd gotten ten feet. I figured he was shaken up enough. Anyway, he got his lion hide and skull for the rug he wanted, and I imagine the story he told back in Chicago wasn't quite the one I just told you."

Lisa frowned.