Noah was begging them to find safety in the Ark because a flood was coming to drown all the bad people. Shaba didn’t need anyone to tell him what a flood was. He would never forget how some older boys had thrown him over a small waterfall and he had thrashed and screamed his way to shore. How he had survived he would never, ever know.

                “Shaba!” The barked command made Shaba’s knees buckle. Was it Mobid? No, but it was just as bad.  The crowd quickly parted as his dad shoved his way through and flung Shaba on the ground. A woman tittered nervously as Jakal thrashed him.

                A sharp cry came from the Ark’s doorway. Jakal rose and shook his black hair out of his eyes, glared at Noah then continued beating the lad.

                Another stern command came from above, and Raibo said later he thought for sure Noah and his sons were going to plunge into the crowd and break up the fight, but just then Jakal yanked Shabo to his feet and dragged him away. Raibo didn’t dare follow, he was sure Shaba would be dead anyway.

Several weeks went by and Shaba slowly mended but made sure he never, ever came near the village where he grew up again. He would rather be torn by the claws and jaws of a lion than face another adult human. Raibo eventually found him, because he wanted to, then he went away and brought back three or four youngsters who were in just as dire circumstances as themselves.  The children hid out in the jungle but close to the Ark so that they could glimpse and hear Noah’s earnest pleading.

One day everything changed.