Sunday, October 16, 2011

Serofu and Her Clan...Life of the African Elephant

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SEROFU AND HER CLAN
LIFE OF THE AFICAN ELEPHANT

“Serofu and Her Clan” by: Lambert van Buuren

In the story below, my goal was to capture the lives of African Elephants from the elephant’s point of view as these animals were being poached and culled out of existence. The African elephant is not a domesticated animal as are their Indian cousins. African elephants were poached until 1989 when poaching was banned, by then their numbers had dropped dramatically. The story is based on facts found in National Geographic magazines and Animal Planet channel specials as far back as 1990. As a story teller, Lambert gave the animals voices and added two African folklore as told by Humphrey Harman entitled “Thunder, Elephant and Dorobo”, and “Podhu and Aruwa” to better give the elephants their voices and you, the reader/listener the elephants prospective on life.

Chapter one opens with Serofu, the matriarchal elephant and her clan observing “The Rituals and Customs of Elephants”. Upon reading the opening of this story, one finds the main character, Serofu, had lead her clan to a large pool of water where lions had decided to rest when she heard Mobutu cry out in pain through infrasound.

Below you will find the first two pages of my book...a mini preview...enjoy.

SEROFU AND HER CLAN

Serofu was the largest and the matriarch of her clan. She and her sisters, Namibia and Yalu stood guard over Naisa and the others as they drank. The sisters were not comfortable seeing the lions resting at the muddy edge of the large pool of water, as there was a new member amongst the clan. Serofu’s ears fanned open was a warning to the lions that she would not tolerate their plan to attack on the young. She and her sisters stood firm. Then moving quicker than anyone would expect an elephant to move, Serofu charged toward the two sentries of the lion’s pack. The lions, knowing they were no match for the large tusker retreated; they knew she would not tolerate their malice. Serofu suddenly stood still. She watched, and then she listened, for she heard her older brother Mobutu cry out in great pain. He was not far, maybe only a stone throw away, somewhere in the nearby woodlands. She gave the lions a stern warning, and then she raised her trunk to report Mobutu’s fate, she knew she could be heard miles away by the elephants. Obeying the word of Serofu, the herd went screaming toward the woodlands.


Serofu and her clan arrived at the edge of the savanna where the large Acacia trees stood and there lay Mobutu. He must have staggered to the place where he was laying as she detected imprints of his body where it dragged on the ground. She drew near him and extended her trunk, as if it were a supernatural instrument enabling her to smell what had caused him to lie on the ground. Her trunk only inches from Mobutu’s skin, she sniffed out a wound near his neck, and the other members of her clan took their turn repeating the same ritual.

A young calf raised his trunk to embrace his mother as if to ask what had happened to Mobutu. His mother’s gestures implied that perhaps a dominated bull gored him while jostling for the right to drink first and perhaps that is why they had fought.

Swana and her clan were next to arrived, with a twist, Serofu and Swana entwined their trunks in a family greeting. They then raised their trunks as if to confirm the Great Bull Mobutu had gone down. He was still alive, but lying very still. Swana and her clan also approached Mobutu with the same intentional gentleness. Smelling every inch of his body, they too sniffed until their trunks lingered near the wound close to his neck. His injury combined with heat exhaustion and age would finish him. Four hours after he went down, he would die.