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'Scar, too, was ill at ease. Increasingly he was torn between the need to remain near his lionesses and his urge to drive out the nomads. Night after night he patrolled his territory, reasserting his ownership by visiting all his regular scrapes and scent-markings, until hunger compelled him to look for his pride. But the Marsh lionesses were no longer so easy to find. They, too, could sense the rising tension as pride males and intruding nomads manoeuvred for dominance, and they seldom remained in the same spot for long. They behaved like fugitives in their own territory, and Scar went hungry when he could not find them at their kills.The task of guarding the entire range was becoming too much for Scar on his own. Some of the younger challengers had retreated without a fight, backing down the moment they glimpsed his massive frame trotting towards them. But the four Wageni were still there. Recently, too, Scar had begun to be aware of two more arrivals. These latest newcomers were not inexperienced sub-adults, but a pair of mature lions whose heavy pug-marks could only belong to large males well into their prime. Their presence added to his growing discomfort. He was tired but he did not sleep. Oblivious to the heat, he would lie out in the open grasslands, not bothering to seek the shade, twitching irritably at the crawling flies and gazing stonily into the distance with eyes that seemed to close less often. Unconsciously he missed the support of Mkubwa and Brando – still pursuing their amorous adventures on Miti Mbili Plain. For the first time in two years, his confidence had begun to waver. The nomads were all around him; their spoor was everywhere. But he was a pride male. This was his territory, where he belonged, and he would not relinquish it easily.'