Let Slip the Pups of War: Spot and Smudge - Book Three

by Robert Udulutch

  After the pups were accepted into a position just below the alphas, with some small squabbling, they got a good look at the dogs as they were included in a grooming session to seal their bond. Where coyotes and wolves closely resembled domesticated dogs, the painted dogs were even more cursorial and purposely built for an exclusive diet of very fast running game. Their muscles were more evenly spaced across both hind and forelimbs, and just like Tian the smooth muscles hid their true strength. As Spot and Smudge rough-housed with the pack they noticed even the runts were solid and tough. They joked Lum would have a tough time with one of these pups, even at half his size.

  The first time the pups’ watched the pack eat the biggest difference between these dogs and their other wild cousins quickly became obvious. As they gaped open-mouthed Smudge whispered to her brother that calling it eating wasn’t doing it justice. These dogs consumed. Their short black snouts were deceiving. Even the yearlings had teeth that rivaled a wolf’s, and the bite force generated by their powerful jaws would put Glasgow to shame. They had no problem removing tough hide from meat, and sinew from bone. After the carcass had been stripped they used the bones as chew toys, which they fought over and then happily crunched and swallowed.

  Other than a rare bear stealing their kill, wolves didn’t have much competition. Like the coyotes, they were generally the top predators in their domains. These wild dogs moved around and hunted much more carefully, and consumed their kill quickly as the African bush held predators much bigger and faster than they were. They lost a few kills to hyenas, cheetahs, or lions, but there was also the very real threat of becoming victims themselves, especially when they were near a carcass. Spot noted adaptation had stepped in again to give the painted dogs an advantage. The pups were fascinated by the adults’ ability to swallow huge chunks of meat and regurgitate it later almost completely intact. It allowed the carcass to be devoured at a blinding rate so the hunters could move out of the area quickly while still providing a mechanism for the entire pack to eat safely away from the kill. It also meant the old and the young were equally healthy, and able to keep up with the constantly running pack. Smudge noted the regurgitation feeding also reinforced their family bonds, where other wild dogs typically only used that technique to feed the very young.

  The pups were also enjoying hunting with their new pack. They had watched coyotes and wolves rely heavily on stealth and cunningly coordinated surprise attacks. The painted wild dogs took those tactics to an impressive, sophisticated new level. The entire pack could move silently in the brush, with visual cues being passed along down the line in a similar fashion to their vocalizations. Once the chase started, however, the pack drove the animal to panic with their calls, and fanned out and ground their prey down. They even used the yaps and barks to steer the animal. The fastest hunters switched off taking point as they got tired which allowed the hunt to keep up a constant pace, leaving their victim no time to catch its breath and no escape as it lost stamina. Once the pack singled out an individual and gave chase there seemed to be only one inevitable outcome. The rare animals who escaped had either quickly jumped back into their herd or found an obstacle the dogs couldn’t easily broach.

  The pups tried to imagine what it must be like for the chased animal. After seeing two dozen of the snarling dogs flow over a fallen antelope as a tearing, clawing tidal wave Spot had said, So, sis, I’m kinda glad your ballsy maneuver that first night worked. As pieces of the small deer had been pulled away and quickly disappeared Smudge just nodded, and didn’t look at her brother.

  Smudge had also taken her turn at the head of the hunts. She freely admitted to enjoying the rush of turning Cu Sith and racing through the thorny bush at top speed with a dozen elite killers at her side. The adult painted dogs were about the same size as the pups, so a pumped up Smudge could easily outrun any of them in a sprint. As dogs go they weren’t overly fast but every member of the pack could run for several days on end, alternating bursts of speed with an economical trotting pace that used little energy. Fenn taught Spot and Smudge how to breathe shallowly and reduce head, hip, and shoulder movement while still taking long strides. It kept their heart rate down and allowed them to actually catch their breath while jogging. Spot saw the pack’s survival depended on dozens of these simple energy conserving, economy-of-motion tricks. They were essential as the wild dogs were nomadic and basically ran all of the time. They covered great distances in a constant cycle of hunting, consuming, sleeping, and hunting some more.

  With new pups in a nearby den, the pack had been hunting close to the watering hole for a few weeks. As soon as their newest batch of whelps could keep up they would abandon that den and again move through their range of hundreds of thousands of hectares. Fenn and her mate explained how they would lead the pack away from the watering hole valley and follow generations of memory maps, predicting where the concentrations of antelope would gather depending on the season and the weather.

  As enamored as Smudge had become with Fenn, it was the pack’s young she had fallen head over tail for. She was pleased to see some things were universal, like being a puppy. In the kill-or-be-killed world outside of their den even the youngest ones were inherently smart and silent, but under their safe little rock outcropping they played like every other puppy in the world did. They annoyed the hell out of their parents, aunts and uncles, and their older siblings as they beat up on each other. Several mornings the pups barely kept their promise to be back in Ben’s room before sun-up as Smudge was spending too much time with the whelps. The young ones couldn’t get enough of Aunty Smudge, either. Fenn and the other adults seemed content to take a baby sitting break and watch their kids learn a few new tricks from this odd, smart outsider. Smudge taught the pups a flat-footed trotting trick that allowed them to run even quieter in the bush. It was something the strong sled dog E’sra had taught her. Although it was meant for running silently over ice it worked equally well in the dry leaves and husks that often littered the forest floor. It wasn’t long before Fenn and the rest of the adults had adopted it as well.

  Spot and Smudge had also learned a dozen new skills from the painted dog pack. They could communicate complex orders with a dozen individuals as they hunted at full speed in thick brush, they could identify a hundred animals by smell and sound alone, and they could nap soundly while still being in a constant state of ready. Smudge also noticed that like the sled dogs these wild painted dogs completely trusted the dog next to them, and in the jungle it often meant the difference between eating and getting eaten.

  They also learned how to dispatch a dozen different animals quickly, and safely. Even the smallest antelope could defend themselves with bites and kicks, and the last few seconds of the hunt were often the most dangerous. The pups knew from the coyotes and the wolves that killing techniques were not instinctual, they were learned. Fenn and her mate were artists at what Smudge had dubbed their signature ‘trip n’ rip’ finish, which involved one dog knocking out the animals rear legs, one dog suffocated it, and one or more dogs disemboweling its soft underbelly. Most often this was done in less than a second. The alpha couple were always close to the finish of a kill to watch and critique every move their hunters made. They reminded the pups of One Ear, and like her they missed no detail. Corrections were swift, and the dog that made a mistake wasn’t likely to make that same one twice.

  Fenn was also enjoying teaching Smudge, and after her team took down a large kudu she nodded for Smudge to join her in watching from inches away as she described every required move in vivid detail. As her hunter clamped down on the animal’s snout, effectively holding its mouth closed and collapsing its nose at the same time, she waited until Smudge acknowledged and repeated back to her all of the proper steps before she called in the rippers to finish the job.

  The pups used all of the tricks they learned from the wild dogs, and from their roamings at night, to improve their work with Hamish and the police dogs by day.

  Fenn pawed at Smudge as they
groomed each other in the circle of trampled grass. As the female alpha cleaned blood from Smudge’s chin she indicated, You’re a good hunter. We finish the kill faster with you at the lead but you need to take less risks. Unseen predators, and even the very bush itself wait for a reckless dog to make a mistake. Slow and steady. The prey isn’t going anywhere once we start to chase it, and when you get too far ahead of the pack we can’t protect you.

  Good luck trying to teach my sister to be more careful, Fenn, Spot said as he laughed and head butted Smudge, Did you notice how she kissed your backside first? That’s a Glasgow and One Ear pack leader move if I ever saw one.

  And a Mimi and Aila move, too, Smudge added.

  A little pup wandered into their circle and wiggled his way underneath Smudge. He spun a few times before settling, and as his face poked out from behind her legs Spot read his sister’s look. She was wondering if One Ear had given birth to her pups yet. With a shared look they agreed the den in The Bogs seemed a million miles away, and it felt as if their last howl with the coyotes had been a hundred years ago.

  A guard dog on the perimeter of the pack huffed a low warning and ten dogs immediately went from deep sleep to circling around them and chattering nervously.

  They heard a low snorting, and then crashing in the brush. It was coming from below them, down in the valley near the river. It was followed by lower pitched barks that weren’t from the pack. Fenn asked Smudge to identify what they were hearing. She softly head butted her student for correctly picking up on the sounds of a rhino and her calf…and the hyenas that were pursuing them.

  Chapter 83

  Below the bright, full moon Ayo picked a spot along a ridge for them to bed down. Just as the men were untying their bedrolls they heard crashing and barking in the small valley right below them.

  They watched as a mother rhino and her calf ran from the trees and thundered into a shallow river barely a hundred meters away. The heavy animals pushed up a huge wall of water and the mother immediately spun around to face back into the thick bush as her baby moved behind her.

  A second later half a dozen hyenas darted onto the river bank.

  The hunch-backed, dog-like killers whined and stomped in the mud but stayed clear of the mother’s massive horn.

  The poachers watched as the frustrated spotted animals paced and nipped at each other for several minutes before they moved away silently into the woods. Sometime later the mother and baby walked out of the water to bed down right below the poachers in a thicket by the river bank.

  Ayo shoved Fisho into the bush and they picked their way silently down from the ridge. They stayed in the shadows cast by the moonlight until reaching the edge of the river.

  As they closed on the rhinos they slowed to a crawl as Ayo led them into the thicker bush of the mopane forest. They stepped away from the river bank, and the bright moonlight broke into patches, and then into single shafts as the thorny tangle of vines closed above them.

  Ayo slid his feet as he walked, quietly pushing away the carpet of dead husks and branches to prevent snapping them. After dozens of painfully slow steps he motioned for Fisho to come forward and join him against the trunk of a leaning tree in a small clearing.

  Ayo smiled a big white smile and grabbed Fisho’s head. He brought his mouth right next to the older man’s ear. “That’s a black rhino and she’s got a trophy horn. We’re rich, man. I’m going to shoot the mother,” he whispered, “You need to slit the baby’s throat or it’ll start to scream. It will draw the hyena and we can’t risk more shooting. We’re not far from Uncle Theo’s. Don’t fuck this up, Dada.”

  Fisho shook his head vigorously, he pulled Ayo’s ear to his mouth and whispered, “I’m not cutting the baby. Killing adults is bad enough, no babies.”

  Ayo’s face shook with anger. In a silent pantomime he pointed to Fisho and drew a line across his throat with his thumb.

  Fisho shook his head, and held the man’s stare.

  Ayo jerked away from Fisho and raised his rifle. He clicked off the safety and lowered himself behind the scope.

  Fisho stared at Ayo’s back for a long moment and then moved behind him, silently sliding the long knife from his belt.

  As Ayo moved the crosshairs over the rhino’s head to a spot just behind its ear, Fisho raised the blade high and grabbed the handle with both hands. He picked a target on Ayo’s neck, just below his Rastafarian hat.

  Something flashed right in front of the rhino and obscured Ayo’s view through the scope. It only lasted an instant and when it was gone the massive black rhino shot to its feet.

  Fisho paused with the knife held high, holding his breath as Ayo’s head pulled back from the scope.

  Ayo lowered down again, and moved the rifle up to find the rhino’s head and regain his target.

  As he started to pull the trigger a black dog’s face appeared in his scope directly in front of the rhino’s head.

  A heartbeat later something slammed into him.

  Smudge unfolded between the poachers, hitting both of them. The man with the rifle flew over the tree trunk, and she caught the man holding the knife over his head square in the stomach. He doubled over and the knife fell to the forest floor.

  Spot tried to back up in the trampled bush, giving the rhino some room. The beast had gotten to her feet much faster than he would have thought possible, and the meter-long horn looked a lot sharper close up then it had from the bank of the river. Spot spun a few times, trying to pick the best escape path but he had also misjudged the density of the walls of the thorny thicket. He didn’t have anywhere to run, and the baby rhino bleated at him as she leaned into her mother.

  Yeah, Spot said, I don’t want to be here either little one.

  Ayo came up with the rifle and bolted into the thick forest. He crashed away through the brush, leaving Fisho to deal with the crazy dogs.

  As Fisho got to his feet he saw the large black dog had landed and spun to face him. The animal was insanely muscular and it caught Fisho in a stare that he couldn’t look away from. The dog’s raised hackles and aggressive posture were frightening, but as its face moved into a small circle of moonlight it was the calm in the dog’s eyes that really chilled him. Fisho looked down at his knife and the black dog barked loud enough to make him jump.

  An instant later four wild dogs appeared silently from the woods around him. Fisho spun as they circled. They were all singing the same yapping growl, but they were keeping their distance.

  Smudge could hear the rest of her hunters moving and chattering in the shadows around the little clearing. She spun and barked for the wild dogs to hang back as she didn’t want any of them getting hurt. When she turned back the man had snatched up the knife and ran up the leaning tree trunk. He scrambled up the rough bark and through the thorns, climbing up to the higher branches of the tall trees.

  Smudge laughed. The man had just saved her a step. She barked for Fenn to keep the human treed and darted off after the tall man with the rifle.

  Okay there mom, Spot said as the rhino stomped the ground and snorted at him. He wasn’t sure if black rhinos used the same dialect as the white rhinos at the clinic, but he was reading every guttural huff coming out of the beast as, Back the hell up little dog.

  I’m just here to help, Spot grunted, Sniff the air, do you smell those human hunters? Give me one snort if any of this is making sense to you. The rhino just stared at him, looking plenty pissed off. Spot wagged, and tried to look as unthreatening as possible. He said, My isn’t that a lovely horn you have. It’s so long, and pointy.

  From across the small river came a set of scratchy barks that were very different from those of the painted dogs. In fact they weren’t even canine. The pups had heard these sounds from a distance, and after seeing the five hyenas appear at the river bank Spot suddenly thought Ben may have been right about his upcoming extinction. These animals looked ferocious. They were a little larger than Smudge when she went Cu Sith, and only slightly less muscular. He re
alized they weren’t dog or cat, but some custom designed mix of tough and lethal. They reminded Spot of the demented rogue wolves from Quebec, and he really hoped they were slightly less zoocidal.

  The mother rhino spun her bulk, moving her baby behind her to face the pack of snarling hyenas. She was as trapped as Spot, and if the hyenas crossed the river they’d both be in trouble. The thicket didn’t allow the rhino much room to move and would hinder her ability to use her huge horn.

  Smudge caught up with the poacher as he was scrambling up the steep slope of the ridge. They had left the canopy of the trees and in the bright moonlight she noticed he’d gotten pretty cut up dashing through the bush. Some of the thorns were still stuck in his skin.

  The loose rocks made it tough going for both of them and she wasn’t able to run up the grade much faster than the tall man could scramble. Smudge tried to close on him silently but the sliding rocks chattered beneath her with each leap. The panting man spun with the rifle to his shoulder and Smudge dove behind a small outcropping. It barely shielded her but he wouldn’t have a clear shot and with his bolt action rifle she could be on him before he could reload. She assumed he realized the same thing as he didn’t pull the trigger.

  Spot let a few choppy snarls fly from behind the rhino. He wasn’t sure she understood, he was only seeing her huge backside and she wasn’t going to turn around with the far greater threat in front of her.