Nature of the Lion

by T. M. Clark

  ‘Not a bad idea,’ Enoch said. ‘Right, let us get those pangas and gloves out of the back now, and walk the horses down to make that boma. Nick, can you stay with the truck for now, so “our friends” do not try to steal everything instead of destroying it.’

  ‘Okay,’ Nick said.

  ‘We have the two-way radio with us, but if you are unable to get to that can you make a loud animal sound to alert us that you have company, friendly or not?’ Enoch asked.

  Nick put his hands to his mouth and whistled like a guinea fowl. Ripppeee-peeep-peep.

  ‘That will do for friendly. Have not heard any of those the whole day,’ Enoch said. ‘And for unfriendly?’

  He made the sound of Egyptian geese. Hoot-hoot-hoot.

  * * *

  Chloe heard it clearly: the call of the Egyptian geese. She knew it was Nick; they were far away from any open water.

  ‘Stay here, you two. Keep the horses quiet and do not come out of this boma unless you see me, understood?’ Enoch instructed.

  ‘Yes,’ Chloe and Xo answered together.

  Khululani and Enoch closed the boma from the outside. ‘Remember, this is real, not a drill. Shoot to kill, my children.’

  Chloe strained her ears to hear what was happening. Other than the call to say they had unfriendliness approaching, they’d heard nothing. No call on the radio, no further bird calls.

  As always, Ethel had her father organised on his chair and was standing near him. Chloe wondered how she would’ve managed the trip if Ethel had said no, and made a mental note to remember to thank her again as soon as she could.

  They heard Enoch call, and they peeked through the thorns and saw Enoch and Filipe as they came out of the bush towards them—talking loudly. Behind them walked six soldiers. All armed with AK-47s, they were relaxed and carried guns on their shoulders, not at their hips.

  Their uniforms matched Filipe’s FRELIMO outfit.

  Filipe called out, ‘They are here to watch the camp, so we can all sleep. They came to protect your horses. You can stay in the boma and keep the horses company. They will stay on the outside and patrol to keep the wild animals away.’

  Chloe dug Xo in the ribs. If she spoke, they’d know she was female. She motioned for him to answer.

  ‘Yebo,’ Xo said. ‘Thanks for the heads up.’

  Filipe was smiling, looking his part as the one who was in charge of transporting precious cargo through the FRELIMO countryside. Chloe was relieved that he hadn’t told them about her at all. He seemed to be keeping his side of the bargain.

  She realised that she was starting to trust the little Mozambican.

  CHAPTER

  17

  Enoch stared into the fire. His hunting rifle was next to him, and somewhere out there, soldiers patrolled around them.

  Not so long ago, it had been Mike and him doing those patrols, around Mike’s men, protecting their unit, being the soldiers. Fighting for what they both believed in.

  Nick had been one of the men he and Mike had protected, and Enoch continued to try to protect him, even after everything that had happened since. So many secrets hung between them. Silently being eroded by time.

  They had survived that war, and it was only afterwards that life had gone wrong for them. But if he was honest, he was grateful not to be separated from Mike. It was never easy to walk away from your best friend, and he hadn’t had to.

  When he had chosen to go to South Africa and live with Mike nearer the brain hospital, he had known that there were hard times ahead of them, and he was certain that he and Xo would be subjected to racist behaviour. Mostly it had been tolerable. Well, except for having to flee for a crime he didn’t commit.

  He threw another stick on the fire. It had been worth it. Now if they could just get home again to Delaware, and Chloe could learn about her ancestry, along with all the family secrets, he knew that they would be just fine. Making sure she and Xo were safe, that was payment enough for all the hardships he had endured and would continue to endure.

  If he could rewind the clock, would he have done it any differently?

  The day that Shilo Mission was attacked. The memory crept into his head …

  * * *

  Enoch watched as the silhouetted vultures glided on thermals in large circles around the mission. The brilliant-blue sky behind them was marred with smoke coming from the still-smouldering buildings they were there to check on. The vultures appeared immune to the acidic smell as they danced with the wind, their large wings spread widely. Their patience was amazing. Waiting for the opportunity to land for their feeding frenzy below. They were one of his favourite species in the veld. The vultures and the mighty eagles. The watchers of the sky.

  His people had a belief that the vultures’ brains—if dried, smoked and mixed with mud—could give you dreams of the future, gift you with foresight that the birds had. They thought that they could dream where their next food source was, and they could travel great distances to find it. They also thought it would give you stamina in the bedroom.

  Enoch didn’t believe any of it; they were just amazing birds as far as he was concerned. He and Mike had spent hours watching the ugly creatures on Delaware when they were younger, how they had been so patient waiting for an animal to die before going in. They would clean up the messes in the veld, making sure that the rabbits and diseases like anthrax didn’t get a chance to spread.

  Much like he and the Scouts were doing today.

  ‘There it is,’ Mike said.

  They were checking in on the mission that had been attacked, making sure that if there were any terrorists still there, they could be captured and interrogated. To find out more about why they were attacking the missionaries, the soft targets, and why suddenly the rules of war had been changed: the church was no longer a sacred place, and its people no longer respected.

  Mike was now his corporal in the Grey’s Scouts, and he rode just behind him, with Buffel to the front and Nick to the side. Any other time, Enoch would be asking if Mike saw the birds, but a silence had descended over the small group of men, even before the mission station came into view.

  This was precisely the type of attack that Mike had said would happen when communists, whose fanatical belief in their regime of not practising freedom of religion or speech, and having a state own and control everyone and everything, like in Russia, came to try to take their beautiful country from them.

  Corporal Mike Mitchell signalled for everyone to follow him as they approached the eight-foot-high security fence around Shilo Mission. Zach and Henny, the youngest in the team of six men, had been instructed to stay near the gates. Despite having completed their initial military training, Mike was always sensitive about having the green recruits in an unpredictable situation; he was still getting them ‘battle easy’, as he would say. Enoch and Mike hadn’t been as fortunate when they started in the Grey’s Scouts just a few years before.

  As they rode into the mission, Mike took point and rode up the stairs of the church, and Buffel was on the left flank to circle around the back and then enter from that side. Nick swung right towards the missionaries’ houses, and Enoch rode even further right to circle around the back of the school rooms. Each had been assigned their duties before they had got to the mission. They had done this formation before; this wasn’t the first time that they’d had to go in and clear out after a terrorist attack.

  The schoolyard in front of the mission was empty. He had expected to see bodies there, much like those on the steps of the church, but there were none. He slowed Kimberlite, whose ears flicked from side to side, as if he too searched for a sound, for movement. He squeezed his legs, signalling for the horse to continue towards the door of the school rooms.

  The doors were open, and he rode through, his Rhodesian Army– issued FN rifle ready at his shoulder in case he needed to use it, his bayonet attached for close combat if required.

  There were no sounds, just an eerie silence. The building had escaped the shell
ing that the main church had sustained, and while some of the desks in one of the classes looked like they had once been in neat lines, they were now haphazardly positioned. There were still books on the desk and pencils strewn on the floor, as if the children who had been taking a lesson here had been disturbed. A few of the desks had been pushed up against the outside of the class, under the windows, as if they were used to shelter the children in case there was flying glass. He moved to the next room. Each one was the same.

  He heard shots fired, and that there was contact somewhere on the mission grounds, the pop-pop sounds of the guns muffled by the thick walls of the building. He systematically cleared the last four school rooms, and although his heart beat wildly, he was relieved not to find any slain children. He wondered about their fate. They had obviously been there when the attack happened. It was school time, and the missions provided a valuable place in the small communities for an education. He had been fortunate to attend a village school on the farm next door to Delaware. His had been run by the government, not missionaries, and was nothing like Mike’s fancy school in Bulawayo, which was only for white children.

  He cleared the headmaster’s office and what appeared to be a storeroom at the end, then exited the other side of the building, and went towards the gates where the rendezvous point was with the youngsters, being sure not to frighten them because of the contact he had heard.

  He saw the mission’s old Land Rover against a tree as he approached, and checked inside; the vehicle was abandoned, so he continued towards the youngsters.

  He found their horses standing beside the bodies. Mealie-pup, Zack’s horse, shivered, terrified. Zack had obviously been mounted when he was shot, and one of his feet was caught in the stirrup, its leather holding it as he slipped from his saddle. Henny had gone over the back of Dingo, who was splattered with his blood. Yet both horses were standing true, their training had won over fear and they had not run off.

  The strangest part was that Buffel’s horse, Benga, was also there, but Buffel wasn’t.

  ‘Shit,’ Enoch said, immediately turning around to check where Mike and Nick were. There was nothing he could do for his fellow Scouts, they were definitely dead, but perhaps he could help the rest of his stick.

  He longed to get off his horse and attend to the horses who were standing in the open. Seeing a horse in stress was never easy to walk away from. ‘Easy! Easy! I will be back in a moment. I must find Mike and the others, then I can attend to you —’

  He was interrupted by a shot to his right. He ducked down low on Kimberlite and looked to where it had come from.

  Mike stood in front of Buffel, his revolver pointed at him. Buffel seemed to step backwards, and then looked left towards the large tree they stood in front of. Buffel sank to his knees, and finally, Mike lowered his weapon. Enoch looked towards the tree.

  Six bodies had been strung up by their feet as if it was a meat locker. Their weapons bound to their sides.

  The sound of anguish that roared from Buffel was one Enoch knew he would never forget. He looked at Mike, who was still armed, and he could see the tension radiating from him as he rode up to them, putting Kimberlite directly between the two men. He didn’t know what was happening, but he knew that he had to protect Mike from Buffel, no matter what.

  He had made a promise to Mike all those years ago. Today was not going to be the day he broke such a sacred vow, even if there were others walking around out there. Enoch stayed awake.

  Watching.

  Waiting.

  Ready to protect.

  CHAPTER

  18

  Australia/New Zealand Top 6 Trophies

  1.Dingo

  2.Wapiti—bull elk

  3.Camel

  4.Captain Cook boar

  5.Water buffalo

  6.Man

  CHAPTER

  19

  Chloe and Xo took turns keeping watch throughout the night, not convinced that the soldiers wouldn’t turn on them. At first light, they heard a vehicle leave and were getting ready to exit the boma when Nick came into view. ‘Chloe? Xo? You guys okay?’

  ‘Tired from the broken sleep, but we’re fine. At least the horses are well rested,’ Chloe said.

  Filipe was close behind him. ‘I couldn’t stop them coming to keep watch over the cargo. When they saw that you guys had the horses out and in the boma, they just split up and patrolled both parts of the camp. They were not here to cause trouble, just to keep us safe and make sure it got through their territory. The captain in charge here is ruthless, but he is not here—luckily our message got through to his men. They know that we are carrying goods worth a lot to someone, and even in times of war they know that there are a few cargos not worth getting involved with. A lot of drug shipments and big ivory caches get brought through here, and if there are any problems some really bad people will come to “fix” things. They were worried that if they didn’t make sure we were safe, and anything happened to the cargo, they would be in trouble. The dead kind of trouble from the guy in charge, because it would reflect badly on him.’

  ‘Those men patrolled all night!’ Chloe said.

  ‘Around the truck, too,’ Nick said as he opened the boma and they led the horses out. Ethel walked out with Mike, getting him to walk a little and stretch before being cooped up in the vehicle again.

  Nick took two lead reins and walked the horses back up the river to where the bank wasn’t so steep. They climbed the small incline and walked down the road before standing together outside the truck while the horses were fed cubes and given water.

  Chloe watched the fat belly of Pampero as she ate her food.

  ‘When is she due?’ Nick asked her.

  ‘In about a month,’ Chloe said.

  ‘I hope this journey isn’t too taxing on her and she doesn’t deliver early. It’s a lot to ask of a mare so heavy in foal,’ Nick said.

  Chloe frowned. ‘It’s not like we wanted to leave in a hurry. It’s not like we knew that some idiot would come and attack us in our own home and get the SAP on our trail, and make our trip so much harder.’

  Nick reached out and touched her arm softly. ‘I know,’ Nick said. ‘I just meant that she’s lucky she has you.’

  Chloe looked at him and smiled in apology. She hadn’t meant to be snappy, to go off like a banshee. But she wasn’t sure what to say back to him, because now that his hand touched her she seemed to have lost all words.

  Pampero got up and shook all over, as if now that she’d rolled in the dirt, she wanted it all off her.

  Enoch laughed, and Chloe looked towards him.

  ‘Enoch’s also lucky to have you. You all seem devoted to each other. He’s always been such good friends with your dad, it’s nice that you’re all still together,’ Nick said. ‘Despite everything that’s happened. It’s good to see a friendship like theirs last through thick and thin.’ He removed his hand.

  Chloe ran her hand over the spot where his had been. She missed the warmth.

  ‘I guess so, although we did spend a few months apart. After Dad was hurt, I drove him to South Africa. Enoch and Xo brought the horses through the bush so we could all be together again.’

  ‘I’m almost afraid to ask, but what was his final diagnosis?’ Nick asked.

  ‘Brain damage and spinal injury. He’ll never recover. There’re certain things that set him off—like a change of routine, or a simple change of the weather—but there was little pattern to the other times. The first sign that he’s having an episode is usually when he starts to rock back and forth uncontrollably. To be honest, I’m surprised that he’s handling this trip so well.’

  ‘You think it’s because he doesn’t know what’s happening?’

  Chloe shook her head. ‘He’s in there still, and he knows,’ Chloe said. ‘There’s a calmness in him since we left that’s been missing for a long time. The doctors at first predicted he could turn violent after his injuries, but instead Dad took the path of refusing to eat or drink, givin
g trouble when Enoch would try to bathe him. Instead of fighting an angry man, we fought to make the man inside want to live.’

  ‘It must’ve been hard for you,’ Nick said, putting his hand on her arm again, only this time he began patting it, almost subconsciously giving her comfort.

  ‘If it wasn’t for Enoch, Xo and Ethel, I wouldn’t have finished school, let alone gone to varsity,’ Chloe admitted. She liked the feel of his hand resting on her arm.

  ‘Surely you tried a professional nurse? Didn’t they help?’ Nick asked.

  ‘We had one with us when I left Zimbabwe. She didn’t last long. We tried home care with various nursing sisters, but I think the isolation of where we lived tended to get to them much more than it got to us, even though they had been warned about it. Female nurses were always good for him; they saw things that Enoch, Xo and I didn’t. Like he gets colder faster than we do. But in the end they all left.

  ‘Then one day Ethel came knocking on our door, asking for work. We were desperate, so although she was much older than any of the previous nurses and she never finished her training, we gave her a chance. And she was better than any registered nurse we’d hired. She understood the need to be in the same house as us so that she was on call all the time—not clock off and go to separate quarters at night. It was a big ask of her, but she fitted into our family just fine.’

  His hand moved slightly, as if he was going to remove it. Then he hesitated, and instead of just resting his fingers he now stroked her skin softly. It was a different sensation, and she realised that she didn’t want him to move away, she wanted more of his touch.

  ‘I’ve watched her with your dad. She’s kind to him, never rough,’ Nick said.

  ‘Yes, but she isn’t strong enough to bathe him, and he wouldn’t like that anyway, so Enoch and Xo still attend to that every night when they come home after being out in the cattle truck, earning money. They usually take over after dinner and complete all the male stuff that needs doing.’