The Cheetal of the mountain grasslands

She was worried. The grass was up as high as she was. It could easily keep her hidden. It usually did. But, today seemed to be different. Her instincts were often right. All the other female cheetal followed her instincts. The morning dew had made the grass glisten, and had made the grass blades heavier. The grassland had overnight become their worry. 

The high mountain grassland plateau offered more than ample security to the cheetal herds. The big-male cheetal stags had carved out their territories along the rim of the plateau, but there were gaps, and danger definitely sneaked in through them. The tall grass plains on the plateau gave protection to the female cheetal to forage, rest and gain strength during their gestation period. 

The young-born cheetal fawns would be secure here, she knew, for she had also been born here. She was now expecting her first-to-be-born, and wished that her mother was here. She had known what to do. She had protected her. Her tough courage, had led her mother before her to name her Devi. And, indeed she had been an inspiration to many cheetal does to gain courage in the beyond-the-clouds plateau grasslands. Devi had led the female cheetal through many years of winter and monsoon on the plateau grasslands. The spring, summer and autum had seen the cheetal move down the hills through gentle sloped valleys to be nearer the rivers and the sweet open meadows bordering the hill forests.

She remembered Devi, her mother, often during this winter. She wished the gestation would get over soon, so that she could be busy teaching her fawn about the grasslands, the mountains, the clouds and the mist and the fog, the plains, rivers and meadows. She would also teach her fawn about the cheetal traditions, so that she would not get misled and maybe lose her life.

Her eagerness and her ambitious outlook were appropriate to her name, Vaani. In fact, Devi had thought of the name long before she had been born, but her first two fawns had been males, and it was third time lucky for her, when the female new born had begun to be sprightly right away in the chill of the monsoon night. It had probably been the nippy cold, thought Vaani, to herself, that must have caused her to jump around. 

The dawn had broken early, and there were no clouds. It was a very clear day, and there was no nip in the air. THe dew moistened grass was bending low, all over the plateau grassland. Already, Vaani could spot the others in her all-female gang of cheetal. She could see the hanuman langur troop moving about along the open pathway leading to the higher plateau. 

The big-boss-stag of her cheetal herd, Bhima, was spotted easily, with his antlers filled with grass and leaves, glistening with dew. He had a very specific patch near the plateau rim. It was a slight mound inside the grassland, but one that allowed him a vantage position. He would often call out, for long periods of time from the mound.

Vaani wanted to talk to him about it. She did not want the big-boss-stag giving out loud advertisements to all potential human hunters and animal predators about their locations. But Devi had told her not to worry about it. Devi had been boss-female of her gang in the herd. She had taught Vaani that the male cheetal would keep moving out in a larger circle away from all the  female cheetal through the monsoon. This would retain all the gestating females within the centre of the circle of the large herd comprising thousands of cheetal on the plateau. 

Vaani had other things to worry about. She wanted to secure a dense grass thicket, with some mounds and dug-out space, so she could hide and keep an alert watch on the grassland. Her sister, Raki, had marked out her own space near her. She was not in gestation, but had decided to stay close enough to help her elder sister. 



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