Panther

• Ana Rosa Marginson, Grade 5
• Short Story
• 2007

A young panther crawls from its safe hiding place in a small clearing. It squints at the bright sunlight outside. An involuntary squeak releases itself from the animal’s mouth.
Suddenly, a crashing sound echo’s through the dense forest. The little panther jolts toward the hiding place with almost supernatural speed.
An adult panther jumps into the clearing, velvety black fur sitting neatly on its back, and the little cub hears a familiar sound. It runs outside to greet its mother. The little panther was hungry. Very hungry.
But the mother had brought no food. The adult purred affectionately, almost sympathetically. She picked up the cub in her powerful jaws and carried it back to the coziness of the den.
Later that day, around dusk, the mother leaves her cub again to go hunting. The cub gets some sleep.
An hour passes. Then another, and another. Four hours pass, and the mother doesn’t return. The cub wakes up seven hours after the mother’s departure, but still the mother isn’t back. The little cub starts to panic.
The next day it spends waiting for its mother in the den. It crawls into the clearing at the slightest sound. The cub is getting weak, it desperately needs food.
Two days later a beautiful bird flutters into the clearing, only to find a baby panther lying on the grass, its lifeless body limp. And its lifeless eyes staring at an unknown object, never to move again.