Zoological

"Survival," said the autist to the landscape-painter, "is a matter of making friends with the rhino."

The landscape-painter merely grunted as he added a tiny dot of ultramarine violet to the canvas on his easel.

"In fact," said the autist, warming to his task and rubbing his broad hands together, "you might want to think about why the largest of the ferocious are leaders in their own categories. It's like a matriarchy of blood in the wilderness."

A slash with the palette-knife, an odd twist of the wrist, and the landscape-painter added another two antelope to his tableau.

"Think of the dying lion leading his pride in the Serengeti."

The artist looked up. "A lion lives and dies by his lionesses, the scavengers around him, the larger beasts, and the amount of food available. And a lion in his winter is dangerous to men."

"What are you painting?" asked the autist with a slight twinge of unease.

"The Serengeti as it should have been."