by T. M. Clark
Mitch nodded. ‘Yeah, but got a bit of research to do before I can commit.’
‘Sounds interesting,’ Amos said. ‘You make it look so easy to have a career, and then change it. Do something else. I could not imagine doing anything else now that I work with Peta.’
‘I knew I wanted a change, then I had this break and the opportunities have presented themselves. I guess I’ve been lucky,’ Mitch said.
‘Tell us about it when you can,’ Peta said. ‘I’m almost dying of curiosity now.’
‘I will,’ Mitch said.
‘How was Lwazi on your run this afternoon?’ Peta asked.
Joss shook his head. ‘Quiet. Skittish. I’m worried for that boy. I don’t know how he’s going to come back from the torture they put them through, and from losing Ephraim. Bongani, Madala White and I were talking about him. We think we might look into finding him a counsellor. He hides his hurt well, but he needs to let it out. He has been through so much for a boy his age.’
‘What are you going to do about Ephraim’s grandmother?’ Hillary asked.
‘Nothing. I think what happened to Ephraim shook her up badly enough,’ Bongani said.
The leopard jumped onto the edge of the rocks near the lake.
‘Get your camera ready, Mitch,’ Joss said.
Mitch lifted his camera to his eye and looked through its telescopic lens.
The click of the shutter was the only sound for a while as Mitch watched Mandlenkosi crouch at the edge, where the murky water of Kariba and the sand of the land mixed. The leopard stilled, lifting one paw and silently placing it in the water, then slowly lifting the next, as if stalking. His tail was still; just the tip flashed as he dived into the shallows. A moment later, the leopard’s head rose for a second before he jumped into the water again, back arched, diving into the pool where the rocks, the grass and the water met. This time he came up with a very large catfish wiggling in his jaws. The leopard walked back through the grass towards a tree on the edge of the lake and jumped into it.
Joss watched as the leopard, silhouetted against the backdrop of the dead trees, ate the fish, then licked its lips and preened itself, cleaning the smell of the fish from its coat.
The sky darkened, making the leopard appear artificial in its tree, a black shadow.
‘That photo will be worthy of National Geographic,’ Mitch said. ‘And you were all here when I took it. A fishing leopard.’
Joss grinned. ‘Let’s hope one of these days soon we can get out on the water and you can enjoy yourself, do a little tiger fishing, maybe catch a vundu.’
‘I want to go check on the Bishu villagers tomorrow,’ Bongani said. ‘Talk to them, see how their boys are doing.’
‘You did remember that tomorrow is when I planned on darting Torn-Ear again?’ Peta asked. ‘He still doesn’t trust me enough to check him without being tranquillised.’
‘I did not forget. You will have plenty of help,’ Bongani said. ‘I will just take Joss with me. Mitch, any objections to staying with Peta?’
Mitch shook his head.
Peta smiled. ‘Amos and I will be fine with Ndhlovy and Torn-Ear. I suspect she will guard him again anyway.’
‘We can go later in the day,’ Joss suggested.
‘No, that’s okay. You guys go – the sooner you get there, the sooner you can come back,’ Peta said.
There was movement at the door of the dining room, and Julian Seziba came onto the veranda. ‘Chief,’ he said, nodding in respect.
‘Yes?’ Bongani asked.
‘I was following the elephants, making sure they keep out of trouble. But today I see spoor. There are men here, in the bushes. Two of them carry heavy luggage, like hunting weapons. I followed their tracks. There is a camo vehicle hiding in the bush that they brought in on a big boat.’
‘Did you see who they were?’
‘No. I walked back to the elephants, and came in with them tonight. But I could feel their eyes watching me.’
‘Thank you,’ Bongani said. ‘Would you like to join us?’
Julian shook his head. ‘Timberman is unarmed and waiting for me in the stables. These elephants are special, so tonight we will watch them close-close. But we wanted to borrow a .303 just in case.’
‘Tell you what,’ Joss said. ‘How about we take turns? I’ll take first watch.’
Mitch put his beer on the table. ‘So it starts again. Joss, you lied; you told me this place was quiet, even boring. I’ll see you there, Julian, at, say, twenty-one hundred hours?’ He set his watch without looking up.
‘I’ll take midnight,’ Bongani said.
‘Gee, so you’re leaving the worst for me. Fine, I’ll take graveyard, from three am till sun-up,’ Peta said.
‘You need to be rested for tomorrow. Those elephants are depending on you ... I will take that shift,’ Amos said.
‘Bongani and I will be going out to track these sons of bitches at first light,’ Joss said, ‘then we can decide if we’re still going to Bishu.’
Bongani nodded, then clapped Amos on the shoulder. ‘Come on, guess our rest time is over.’
* * *
Joss walked towards his house, then detoured to the stables. Ndhlovy saw him and greeted him, her rumblings loud in the still of the evening.
‘Hey, girl,’ he said as she approached, and he rested his forehead against her trunk. She moved her trunk over him, as if reassuring him that they were alright. But she constantly moved her weight between her feet.
‘I know, the timing of having to defend this place couldn’t be worse. There are men out there who are making you nervous. Peta will check on Torn-Ear tomorrow and then you can probably go back into the Chizarira. Julian will be your own guard, walking all the way.’ He scratched her ear, and smiled at the soft rumble coming from her.
He heard the click of Mitch’s camera behind him before he realised he was there.
‘I thought I’d see what you were up to,’ Mitch said, still taking photos.
Ndhlovy flapped her ears at him when he took a step closer.
‘She still doesn’t trust me.’
‘She’s restless. I think she’s waiting for Peta’s confirmation that Torn-Ear is okay before she moves her herd. She knows there’s danger out there.’
‘I’m amazed by how intelligent they are,’ Mitch said. ‘And still in shock that people shoot them for their ivory.’
‘I know. A little of me would die if that happened to her.’
Mitch took a few more close-ups of Joss and Ndhlovy before Bongani arrived with Julian. Each had a .303 on his shoulder.
‘That elephant and Joss, they have a special bond,’ Julian said. ‘Never in my years, even when I was working in ZimParks, did I see a wild elephant trust a human like this.’
‘I guess we saved each other,’ Joss said. ‘Look after them tonight, make sure they have extra food to keep them in camp, not browsing out there, just in case. We will touch base with you guys later.’
‘You sure you want to leave me behind in the morning?’ Mitch said.
‘I’m trusting you to watch over Peta and Sophia.’
‘With my life.’
‘I’m counting on that,’ Joss said as he touched Ndhlovy one last time, and kept her trunk in his hand until he had to drop it or she had to step forward. He broke the contact and walked away, Bongani and Mitch following.
As he neared the front door, he stopped. In front of him were the five N’Gomas.
‘Chief,’ Abigale said. ‘The snake has returned; he is camping on your borders. You will need our help to cut off his head.’
CHAPTER
34
Witchcraft
Bongani walked in front, just a little to the left, and Joss followed closely.
They had tracked like this for many hours when he was a boy. Then, his rifle strap had been taken up as much as it would go, and his mother had added more stitching to shorten it even more. Now he carried his .303 across his back as if it was his assaul
t weapon. He was sweating because walking in the sand was hard enough with normal legs, now it sucked at his shoes and it took a heap of energy to lift one foot and put it in front of the other. He was just happy that he was so much fitter, probably as fit as he had been as a marine. He certainly drank less beer now.
Shaking his head, he brought his mind back to Bongani, who pointed to tracks in the sand where a vehicle had parked. It was exactly where Julian had said it would be. There was a stomped-out cigarette close by. Bongani picked it up and, after looking at it closely, smelt it.
‘Dagga-tobacco mixture.’
Joss circled around him, continually looking at the ground. ‘Definitely four men. One wears expensive new boots too. Look at this print.’
‘The rich one walks at the back, then my half-brother. Look, his boots are still different sizes, from where his foot was broken badly and did not set well when he was a boy. A second tracker, who walks like a man of the bush, leaving hardly any footprints, and then the hunter, who is heavy on his feet and imprints in the sand well. They have used this hiding place more than once – the tracks here are older, then newer ones again today,’ Bongani said.
‘What would they be looking at from here?’ Joss said. He did a slow three-sixty. ‘That koppie.’ He pointed. ‘I bet from the top of that you can see across into the safari lodge. We’ve been under surveillance.’
‘The N’Gomas are never wrong. They said the snake is back. They said he had not yet come through their muti lines, but they are worried that he will, despite their power. Even if he is no longer scared of the ancient magic, he is not taking a chance. He is hovering outside my territory.’
Joss frowned. ‘Okay, so they don’t think that their muti works on him now?’
‘You heard them; they are unsure. Perhaps he no longer believes or fears them. Or he tries hard to think he does not believe. But we are an ancient people, and traditions run deep roots into us. Perhaps he no longer has a soul,’ Bongani said. ‘But they are correct that he has not crossed over the line yet. They said that he camps on my border. We are not on my land at all, we are in the safari strip, the five-kilometre stretch that runs around the lake. Perhaps he is still scared of the N’Gomas after all and they have underestimated their power over him.’
Bongani walked away from Joss and came back with a branch. ‘Right, we know what they are up to; let us not leave them any trace that shows we know. Let him think that he is setting his trap.’ He began wiping their tracks from the area.
Joss walked back the way they had come, and then he turned towards the koppie. ‘I think we should look up there.’
Bongani nodded.
Joss kept a steady pace on the game trail that wound its way up the koppie, deliberately not going on the path the others had trodden, Bongani behind him all the time, wiping out their tracks with the branch.
They crested the small hill. Looking south, Joss had a clear line of sight to Yingwe Safari Camp. They found where the men had sat, even the remnants of a small fire.
‘They seem comfortable,’ Joss said as he began to walk a grid search. Bongani did the same in the opposite direction.
‘Over here.’ Under a camo net, Joss found an ammo dump in a large metal box: a few boxes of rounds and six pineapple hand grenades.
Bongani gave a low whistle, then looked to the safari camp. ‘Lucky no missiles to blow up the camp and the village.’
Joss shook his head. ‘No, not in their stash.’
‘If Hillary had not told us of the Philip Samkanga connection, I would not have believed this possible in my country today. I have not seen hand grenades for many years. This country is so full of corruption, I do not know if we will ever get out from underneath the tyranny that is our leadership.’
‘This isn’t such a bad weapons dump; I’ve seen much worse,’ Joss admitted. ‘Almost makes it not worthwhile to have here. Perhaps they are still building it up?’
‘Eish. Scary thought.’
Joss shrugged. ‘If Hillary is right, Tichawana certainly means to eradicate you. Let’s just hope this is the only arsenal,’ he said as he began loading the hand grenades into his backpack.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ Bongani asked.
‘Removing their ability to use these on us.’
‘But then they will know we are onto them. Can you not defuse them, take out the detonators?’
Joss shook his head. ‘They’re too well sealed. We should take some of that ammo too. Help me empty the boxes into my backpack, and refasten them so they think they have still have ammo and our theft isn’t discovered quickly.’
Bongani smiled. ‘You are crafty.’ He helped Joss unpack the bullets then return the empty cartons to the box. ‘Right, now to remove our presence.’ He cleared the area of their prints with his branch as they made their way back to the safari lodge.
Joss was scoring in his head: Bongani 2–Tichawana 1.
The final showdown was going to unfold in a few days, and there was lots to prepare for.
* * *
Tichawana moved his feet again.
He could not stand still. The day of the boy’s funeral had arrived, and it was going to be a glorious celebration for all. Tichawana chuckled aloud at the thought of his brother being so arrogant as to have a public funeral for the boy who had died; an open invitation for him to move his army into position and attack.
Today was the day he would kill his brother and take the chieftainship of the Binga area as his inheritance.
Tichawana watched as Adam and Brighton threw a large hunter’s net over the pontoon boat parked at the edge of the lake. The sun was just rising in the sky and already the heat was pressing down on him. He wiped his brow with what had once been a white handkerchief, now streaked with brown after the hour on the open water from their camp on the other side of Binga. They had passed a few kapenta boats returning to the harbour, but no one would have given them a second glance as the pontoon boat was made to look as if it was on a safari, fishing lines in the water. At first some of the lines had dragged tight, hidden beneath the surface, the remains of his Korean slaves trawling behind. But he had cut those in deep water along the way. Their feet were weighed down with bricks, ensuring that they would sink to the bottom and never again see blue sky. They were another loose end he needed to tidy up. A commodity he could repurchase, and train anew when needed.
The Hummer had been under its own Camouflage net to keep it hidden for the few days before they had arrived, waiting for them on the shore under a tree. Ready to get them to their final destination.
‘I’m still not fond of this mooring,’ Adam said. ‘The steep drop-off into the water isn’t good. If the boat moves when we need to reload the Hummer, we’ll lose it. We should move to where we unloaded her earlier in the week. It’s a much better position. This is fine for passengers loading, but not if we have to put that bakkie on board again.’
‘You do not need to worry about reloading it; today I will drive my Hummer across my lands as chief, and not come back here,’ Tichawana said.
Adam stayed quiet as he finished tying down the net, and double-checked the anchor rope that ran from the boat to one of the trees on the shoreline further up the bank. Once he was happy, he walked to the Hummer and climbed into the passenger seat.
‘Ready?’ Tichawana asked.
Adam nodded.
Brighton and the tracker sat silently as they bounced along the track they had followed several times before. Finally they parked under a tree near the base of the koppie.
Tichawana climbed out of the bakkie. ‘Bring my pack,’ he instructed his tracker, who quickly shouldered the bag and set off in front of his baas. Brighton followed Adam as they made their way up the small koppie to watch the happenings of the Yingwe River Lodge and Chief Bongani’s village.
The tracker looked around. ‘Adam, someone has been here.’
‘Someone or some animal?’
‘People. Look, they wiped away their prints but no
w they look too much like a snake with no scales. Snakes are never that fat and they weave along.’
‘I’ll tell Tichawana. Look sharp, you two,’ Adam said as the tracker nodded and he and Brighton went to fetch everything from under the camo net.
Adam joined Tichawana where he crouched low on the koppie edge, watching through binoculars.
‘The trackers are bringing the ammo closer,’ Adam said. ‘Yours said that someone was in the camp.’
Tichawana stood up and walked to where the trackers were still removing the net. He ripped it aside. ‘Open every box.’
He watched as they opened them to find that all of their hand grenades were gone, and most of their ammo too.
‘He did this. He knows we are here!’ Tichawana shouted.
‘No,’ Adam said. ‘He knows we have a camp here, and had stashed ammo. He doesn’t know what day we are planning the attack. He can’t know that, or we would have walked into an ambush on the way in. He doesn’t know our full plan.’
Tichawana was silent. He looked around wildly then took a deep breath to regain his composure and control.
‘He would never let me walk into his property, N’Goma muti or not,’ Tichawana said. ‘We carried in lots of extra ammo anyway, and more grenades. We stick to the plan. Once those buses arrive and the party is over, we can get my brother. Those recruits all know that they are only there to make it look like there was a riot. They know not to kill him.’
Adam nodded.
Tichawana walked back to the spot from which he could observe the village and the lodge and sat on the ground.
Adam flattened the few pieces of grass that grew there and sat beside him. ‘So today is the day. You think once you kill your brother and those five N’Gomas, you will at last be able to walk on your land? The land of your father.’
‘I am counting the minutes.’
Tichawana lifted the binoculars and saw that the elephants had already begun to move out from the stable area for their morning foraging, but unlike the previous times, they were heading north, through the opposite end of the village. The matriarch was leading them away from the lake as if she knew that there would be large crowds there today, and she needed to get her herd to safety. He could see the three men who followed the herd everywhere just behind them.