Image Credit: yo
Jumba had lived in the forest alone ever since poachers had wiped out her entire herd. Jumba had been asleep on the moss near the stream when the ambush in the meadow occurred or she would have also been killed.
Jumba was just old enough to have been weaned or she may have starved to death. As it was a lush summer at the time, there was plenty of greenery to eat and the stream was her water source.
Jumba mourned the loss of her herd; her mother, aunts, cousins all gone. There were no trunks nor tails to link with nor sides to lean against anymore. Jumba thought her heart would shatter with grief. Baby elephant tears flowed freely and often.
Until that morning when she found a baby panther stranded on a rock in the stream. The baby was dry, but how could he have gotten across the water and not gotten wet? Hearing a low rumbling voice on the other side of the creek, Jumba looked up ā and into the infinite yellow-green of a mother panther’s eyes. Glancing down, Jumba saw a thick spear lodged in the rib cage of Mother Panther, whose coat was wet with blood and water. She must have dropped her baby on the rock then went back to shore ā to die.
Baby Panthro mewled loudly. Jumba made her way down to the creek and wrapped her trunk firmly around him and walked back to shore. The two became friends and protectors for life that day.
Sadje is the host of What Do You See?
Tao Talk 
I always love a happy ending.
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A wonderful take on the photo! Great story!
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:) Thank you.
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nice ending…
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:) A big contrast in the stories today.
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Yep….revenge and friends…good variety.
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Such a moving story Li. Love it. Thanks for participating in the prompt.
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You are very welcome, Sadje. My heart went out to them.
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Thanks again. šā¤ļø
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What a lovely, sweet story :)
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Thanks Chris :)
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Creating inner warmth with your words… Now if we could only eliminate the poachers and those who hunt just for the fun of it.
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I read somewhere that the “dnr” people are given authority to shoot to kill poachers in some countries, especially when it is poaching endangered species. Anyone who hunts for fun is on the bottom rung of the karmic ladder imo.
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What’s ‘dnr’?
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Department of Natural Resources, which I think has both national and federal levels. In Africa where I heard about it, they probably call it something else.
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Thanks.
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