CHAPTER THREE: SIMBA AND MUFASA
It was about an hour before dawn in the Pridelands. Young Simba stirred. Today was the day he had been waiting for. Though it was early, he couldn’t go back to sleep. His father was going to show him the kingdom today. He ran across the den, stepping over, and sometimes on, sleeping lionesses as he moved toward his father and mother. “Dad, get up! Come on, get up! Today’s the day!” he cried excitedly.
Mufasa groaned Simba’s antics had also woken up Sarabi. “Your son is up.” she said.
“Before the sun is up, he’s your son!” Mufasa replied.
Sarabi groaned. “Simba, please wait an hour. It’s not even dawn yet.” she said.
“But I can’t go back to sleep!” Simba protested.
“Then just wait here till your father is up.”
“But that’s boring!”
“I’m afraid some things in life are boring Simba; you’ll just have to learn to put up with them.”
To amuse himself, Simba began to prance all around the cave, stepping on lionesses that were asleep, or at least trying to be, in the process. They all groaned as Simba walked on them.
“Simba, cut it out!” Sarabi snapped at him.
“Sorry Mom.” he replied. He sat there impatiently for an hour, which seemed to him to drag on forever. Finally, sunrise came, and Mufasa awoke. As Mufasa stood up and stretched and yawned, Simba piped excitedly “It’s time! It’s time! Let’s go! Let’s go!”
“All right.” Mufasa laughed.
He took him outside of the cave and to the top of Pride Rock; the two could see all of the Pridelands stretched out before them. “Everything that the light touches is our kingdom.” Mufasa told his son.
“What about that part out there where it doesn’t touch?” Simba asked.
“That is the Outlands. I am not king there.”
“Why don’t you go make yourself king of it?”
“They don’t want me to be their king.”
“Who cares? Make yourself king of it anyway!”
“While others search for what they can take, a true king searches for what he can give.”
Simba didn’t understand what he meant. “When do I get to have it?” he asked, eager to start bossing everyone around.
Mufasa sighed. “One day the sun will set on my time and rise on yours as the new king.” he replied.
Simba didn’t quite get what his father had meant by the sunset and sunrise references and said “So I get to be king tomorrow morning?” he asked hopefully.
Mufasa groaned. “No, it means that I won’t be king forever.”
“That’s ok, when you’re done, you could let me be king.” Simba suggested.
“It’s not quite like that.” Mufasa laughed.
“What do you mean?”
“Someday I will die and you will be the new king.”
“But I don’t want you to die!”
“It can’t be helped.”
“How come?”
Mufasa thought how best to explain it. Finally, he said “You know that we eat the antelope, right?”
“Right.” Simba replied, wondering what antelope had anything to do with his father dying someday.
“When we eat the antelope, they die.”
“So?”
“So they die to feed us.”
“And what does that have to do with you dying?”
“When we die, our bodies become part of the grass. And the antelope eat the grass. So it’s all part of the circle of life. It’s a cycle. Nobody lives forever.”
Simba still didn’t quite understand. “Ok, so we’re all going to die someday, but what’s this circle of life thing?”
“There is a delicate balance, between each of the creatures in the Pridelands as well as with the land. For centuries, we have maintained it and avoided serious trouble.”
“I’m sure as king I can handle it, no problem.” Simba said confidently.
“It’s a tough job, one you must constantly work at.”
“I can handle it, no problem.”
“It’s not that easy. It gives even me trouble.”
“I thought nothing gave you trouble.”
“Well, you are enough of a handful for your mother and I combined.”
“Oh, I can’t be that bad, can I?”
“Sometimes.”
“So, do you think that I’ll be a good king?”
“I hope so. You’re not ready to be king yet.”
“Why don’t you think so?”
“You’re not mature enough yet.”
“When will I be?”
“When you’re older and I’ve taught you more.”
“Can’t wait for that to happen!”
“Neither can I! Trust me!” Mufasa laughed.
