Shabanu Read Online Free

his head, and the foam flicks out, sticking to the ears and necks of the other camels. The young males and other females move aside.
    Tipu nudges the object of his desire and she shies away. He trots beside her as if he owns her. She breaks into a run, bleating insistently now, her eyes turning sideways, showing white. He lopes along next to her as she wades into a clump of yearlings. They scatter, and Tipu hooks his chin over her neck. They circle, the female bleating softly.
    All pretense of protest gives way, and with a quick flick of her tail, she kneels down. He moves astride her back, his front legs over her shoulders. She nuzzles his neck,which arches over her head, and the foam from his mouth smears her ears, like soap when Dadi shaves.
    I wonder if it’s the same with humans. Do females want to be owned? I steal a look at Phulan and she knows what I’m thinking. She bursts out laughing.
    “Don’t worry, Shabanu!” she says, hugging me, and I hug her back, hard.
    A deep bellow sounds from the far end of the
toba
. It is a huge young male Dadi plans to take to Sibi. Each herd has one dominant camel. Only he mates with the females. The others must suppress their ardor. If a young camel challenges the stud, they fight to the death.
    Phulan and I hold our breath. If this young male, puffed up and full of himself, challenges Tipu, we will have to separate them or we could lose both of them.
    Tipu responds with a roar. He leaves his lovemaking and stands, turning his head to look for his challenger.
    Without a word, Phulan picks up the hem of her
chadr
and runs for Guluband to fetch Dadi, who is out gathering wood. I scramble to my feet and reach for the heavy stick I always carry.
    Tipu, named after the great Indian warrior, has many battle scars from challenges like this. He spots the younger male, Kalu, which means “black.” He is named for the great black camel Grandfather rode into battle for the Nawab of Bahawalpur. Kalu is larger than Tipu, and very strong, although he is only four years old.
    Tipu roars again, lowers his head, and charges. Kalu isready with a deft feint. Tipu bumps him with his chest, but Kalu lowers his huge black head, ducks it under Tipu’s chest, and clamps his powerful jaws around Tipu’s foreleg.
    I run at them, screaming at the top of my voice. But they don’t even look up. I beat at their heads with my stick, hoping to distract them.
    I am enormously relieved to hear Dadi shout to me to get away. He jumps off Guluband’s back while the camel is still at a dead run. Phulan jumps down as soon as Guluband stops, and she and Dadi join me in trying to separate the fighting camels. Both camels are now thoroughly enraged and obsessed with the thought of killing.
    Phulan and I beat our sticks against their sides with all our might. The sticks make solid thwacking sounds, but the camels seem not to notice, as we dance aside to keep away from their twisting necks and biting jaws. Both males’ mouths are foaming pink with blood from cuts on their humps, necks, and legs. They whirl and heave, angling for advantage. They’re so large that they seem to move with unnatural slowness, but Phulan and I have to run to keep up with them as they hurl each other about, the ground shaking under our feet, their roars reverberating in our chests.
    The sweat runs down from under Dadi’s turban, streaking his face. His mustache is coated with thick, pale dust. He tries to stay near the camels’ heads, jabbing his stick into their faces as they thrash. There! He pushes the stick between Tipu’s jaws.
    “Get Kalu off!” he shouts, and Phulan and I slash at the young male’s ribs with our sticks. Happy to have survived his unsuccessful challenge with dignity, Kalu lifts his head and trots away. Phulan and I turn our sticks to the big camel facing Dadi.
    Diverted from the fight, Tipu seems to notice our blows for the first time and roars in protest, killing still the only thing on his mind. He shifts