Nature of the Lion

by T. M. Clark

  oke (pronounced oak):

  male or a person, usually someone you don’t know; generally accepted South African slang.

  ons is jammer:

  we are sorry; Afrikaans.

  pan:

  a body of water (sometimes pumped in), as in a waterhole, used in game reserves where animals gather.

  pangas:

  a really large knife.

  pas op:

  beware; Afrikaans, but generally accepted into South African slang and used by all.

  penga:

  mad, not right in the head; origins within the Bantu languages, but a general term in Southern Africa.

  plaas:

  farm; Afrikaans.

  quartering:

  a method for getting a clean and clear shot to an animal’s vital organs when they are facing you. The front leg is used to line up where to shoot.

  sadza:

  staple maize meal food in Zimbabwe, made into a thick porridge; Shona.

  sala kuhle:

  stay well/goodbye (said by the person leaving); Ndebele.

  salibonani:

  hello; Ndebele.

  se voet:

  like bloody hell; Afrikaans.

  sheeesh:

  expression when there are no words, it’s too sore, and you haven’t learned to swear yet.

  siga:

  cut; Zulu.

  sikhona:

  I am fine (literally means ‘I am here’); Ndebele.

  situasie:

  situation; Afrikaans.

  siyabonga:

  we thank you; Ndebele.

  siyaphila:

  I am fine (usually said first in a traditional greeting); Ndebele.

  skebengas:

  gangster; a Zulu word, but generally used in South Africa for anyone who is on the wrong side of the law/trouble making/a bad guy.

  skelm:

  rascal or sneaky person; Afrikaans.

  sondebok:

  scapegoat; Afrikaans.

  stick:

  a unit of men on horseback deployed in the Grey’s Scouts, comprised of six to eight men.

  takkie:

  trainers; Afrikaans—but generally accepted South African slang now.

  terugkeer:

  return; Afrikaans.

  thula:

  be quiet/shut up; Xhosa/Zulu/Ndebele—generally accepted South African slang.

  tinyanga:

  (plural for inyanga) a traditional healer (witchdoctor) in Mozambique. Different to a curandeiros (Portuguese) (spirit healer).

  tokoloshe:

  a really bad spirit; it can resemble a zombie, or a poltergeist, or a gremlin, any demon-like thing; Zulu.

  tsotsi:

  naughty person/gangster/layabout; a general term in Southern Africa.

  umntwana:

  child/children; Zulu.

  unjani wena:

  how are you (response); Ndebele.

  utshwala:

  traditionally brewed beer; Zulu.

  uxolo:

  sorry; Ndebele.

  vetkoek:

  deep-fried dough bread bun; Afrikaans.

  vriende:

  friends; Afrikaans.

  vroens:

  women; Afrikaans.

  vula:

  open; Ndebele.

  wag-a-bietjie:

  the Buffalo-Thorn Tree (Ziziphus mucronata); any of several plants having sharp, often hooked thorns; literal Afrikaans translation is wait-a-minute.

  when-we:

  a derogatory term used for Rhodesians, because after they left Rhodesia, they would always talk about being back there, saying ‘when we were …’; generally accepted South African slang.

  woza:

  come; Ndebele.

  yebo:

  yes; Zulu, now generally accepted South African term.

  zero(ed):

  a hunting term for setting your scopes and making sure your rifle is accurate, usually done after travelling.

  zingela:

  hunter/to hunt animals or people; Ndebele.

  zwana:

  friendly, to listen to each other; Ndebele.

  FACT OR FICTION?

  Fiction: Sunshine Gold Mine doesn’t exist.

  Fact: There are smaller gold mine operators all over Zimbabwe. There was a real problem in 1980 where the mines were charging rent for mining housing that was substandard.

  Fiction: Lily and Quintin’s medical outreach clinic is not real.

  Fact: Mission outreaches to Zimbabwe do occur, as do aid volunteer holidays.

  Fiction: Professional hunters in Zimbabwe hunting people.

  Fact: Professional hunting of wildlife in Zimbabwe is legal, and there are concessions to control the animal quotas taken. There is a professional body that has tried hard to regulate a difficult industry.

  Fiction: Afrikaner Partisans is not real, neither are their ideals and they are not part of the AWB.

  Fact: The Afrikaner Weerstandsbeweging (AWB), Afrikaner Resistance Movement, is a South African neo-Nazi separatist political and paramilitary organisation, often described as a white supremacist group.

  Fiction: The horses and journey back to Zimbabwe through the bush.

  Fact: After the Rhodesia Bush War ended, there were Grey’s Scouts’ horses, who travelled through the bush from Zimbabwe to South Africa to join their ex-Grey’s Scouts owner, who lived in Kokstad. These horses were brought down by a Ndebele groom. I was fortunate enough to be allowed to ride these beautiful animals as a teenager.

  Fact: Missions were attacked during the Rhodesian Bush War; one of the worst was Emmanuel Secondary School, run by Elim Mission, of a Pentacostal church, based in Cheltenham, England. Twelve European missionaries were killed, including a three-week-old baby.

  Fiction: Shilo Mission’s attack in my book.

  Fiction: The 6th Society.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  There are many minds that go into making a book, it is not a journey I take alone by any means.

  Louis Olivier, retired game ranger, Kruger National Park (forty-five years’ service), not only for your dedication to the park and the animals inside that fence, but for all the help in my research. And for conspiring with me to plan an escape through the park and then through Mozambique, for maps, ‘inside’ info and even helping write the bones of the route for me. Thank you, I so appreciate your generosity with your time and sharing your knowledge. One day I hope to meet you and shake your hand in person.

  The team at Harlequin Mira: Rachael Donovan, for helping me write a better book, and being my ‘door monitor’ for what gets put out into the world. Also for the first time, naming my book. Thank you. My editors, Laurie Ormond and Alex Nahlous, for taking an okay story and helping turn it into a book worthy of giving to readers to enjoy. Thank you for your help and your expertise. Here is to hopefully conquering the PC/Mac Word file problems! Michelle Zaiter, cover fairy, for the awesome lion cover.

  Robyn Grady, Amy Andrews and Gayle Ash, long-time writing friends who continue to shake pom-poms my way all the time. You girls rock and I so appreciate the support.

  My beta readers: Siobhan Graham, Petro Grobbelaar (who also checked my Afrikaans) and Sam Eeles. Many thanks for your help in various edit stages.

  Alli Sinclair, who is on the other end of the ‘interwebs’, all the time. Thanks for being there, for the bad and the good, the tears of both happiness and dramas, but mostly the friendship where text conversation can continue over days and still not need a formal hello.

  My cousin Jeremy Wilde and his patient wife, Caren, for putting up with all my questions on professional hunting, and for talking out different scenarios with me, even though we are still so many miles away from each other. Much, much appreciated!

  Skinny Wood, as always for checking my Ndebele.

  My sons, Kyle and Barry, for putting up with me writing and being off in my own world, even while on an overseas holiday this time.

  Kyle, whose turn it was to do my mud maps. (Have to admit i
t’s so handy having kids who can use graphics programs!)

  Lastly, to my husband, Shaun. For still loving me after all these years. Thank you for the freedom to stretch my wings, and fly beside you.

  If you loved Nature of the Lion, please turn over for a taste of T.M. Clark’s previous bestseller

  Available now!

  PROLOGUE

  Finders Keepers

  Binga Area, Zimbabwe, 1996.

  The elephant baby lay on its side, its trunk limp in the dry dirt.

  ‘Do you think it’s dead?’ Joss asked, approaching slowly.

  Bongani put his hand on the elephant’s shoulder. ‘No, it is breathing, but might be sick, as it is unusual for a baby to be separated from the herd—’

  ‘What can we do to help it?’

  Bongani shook his head. ‘The kindest thing to do would be to shoot it, put it out of its misery.’

  Joss ran his hand over the legs of the baby elephant. ‘I can’t find any hot spots and there doesn’t seem to be anything broken. I think it’s just tired, and hungry. We can take it home with us.’

  ‘Your mother will not like this—’

  ‘Mum will adopt any animal, you know that! Perhaps if we give it some water?’ Joss said. He took his bottle from the webbing he carried across his shoulder. The regulation army-issue flask was too long for him and sat on his thigh not his hip, but at ten years old, he didn’t care. Water was water, and when you were out tracking and hunting all day, you needed to carry your own. He poured some in his hand and then put the tip of the baby elephant’s trunk into his palm. The elephant was still for a second, then it moved its trunk as it smelt the water.

  ‘It wants it,’ Joss said as he pulled Bongani’s hands forward. ‘Cup your hands and I’ll pour the water into them—’

  The elephant curled its trunk to drink from Bongani’s hands, and put the water in its mouth.

  ‘At least it is old enough to have control of its trunk,’ Bongani said. ‘A good sign.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Many years ago, before I came to work for your family, I was with the Parks Board. It was a long time ago.’

  ‘Why did you leave there?’ Joss asked, putting more water into Bongani’s cupped hands.

  ‘The bush war came. I met your father during that time, and I came to work for him instead, before you were even born.’ Bongani paused. ‘We could get into lots of trouble from the Parks Board for having a baby elephant. They will want to know where we got it, and how we came to have it at the lodge.’

  ‘Mum will sort that out. Let’s try to get it back on its feet.’

  ‘Do not rush it. Give it some more water first. Slowly, in case it gets a tummy ache. It will get up when it is ready, if it can. It needs some relief from the heat. We must make a shelter for it, and then, when it is cooler, we can encourage it to walk.’

  They collected dead wood from the forest floor and broke branches off the trees in the mopani forest. Slowly the lean-to took shape around the young elephant, protecting the animal from the harsh African sun.

  They sat with the baby for over an hour as it drank all the water from both their bottles.

  ‘If it is to live, it must get up. It must walk to the road,’ Bongani said. ‘We cannot bring a vehicle in here; the bush is too thick.’

  ‘It’ll walk,’ Joss said as he returned with a handful of leaves from an acacia tree.

  The baby attempted to eat the leaves, taking them from his hand and putting them into its little mouth, but it didn’t seem to like them much. For a while it just lay in the shade. Joss sat next to it, stroking its cheek, waiting for the elephant to feel better as the sun began to lower.

  ‘We need to get it moving soon,’ Bongani said. ‘Is it a boy or girl?’

  ‘Hang on,’ Joss said as he bent over and looked underneath the elephant. ‘She’s definitely a girl.’

  ‘Good. She should not be as moody as a male to look after, and perhaps when she is older, she will come back with her babies to visit, not come back in musth and break the fences, destroying our crops.’

  ‘Come, Ndhlovy,’ Joss said, ‘you have to get up, you have to come home with us. If we leave you here, the leopards or the hyenas will get you, because your mum is not here and you are all alone.’

  The elephant put her trunk into his hand. The tiny hairs on it prickled but he didn’t mind. He continued to talk softly to her: ‘Bongani and I need to get home; my mum will shout at us if we don’t get back before it’s dark. It’s her one rule when we go hunting: be home before the sun sets. So you need to stand up and walk to the road, then Bongani will get the tractor and you can ride home on the trailer. But first you must get yourself to the road. It’s not far.’

  Bongani said, ‘You are naming her Ndhlovy?’

  ‘Yes. Then you can’t leave her behind; she’s my pet, she has a name.’

  Bongani shook his head. ‘We need to leave now. Perhaps if we walk away she might follow us, like the calves do.’

  Joss got up and dusted the dirt off his trousers. ‘Come on, Ndhlovy.’

  The baby lay still, but her amber eyes followed him.

  Joss walked further away. He looked back over his shoulder. Ndhlovy had sat up and was watching them leave. ‘Come on, ellie, time to go home,’ he said a bit more sternly.

  The baby elephant staggered to her feet, her little ears flapping. She wriggled her trunk, thrashing it in an uncertain manner, a little unsteady as she balanced her weight.

  Bongani smiled.

  ‘Home is this way,’ Joss said. ‘Come on …’

  The baby elephant walked after them.

  Bongani nodded. ‘This is good.’

  ‘Keep coming, Ndhlovy,’ encouraged Joss.

  The baby elephant walked with purpose until she caught up with Joss, then she placed her trunk in his hand, and settled just behind him. Every now and again she bumped him, as if trying to reassure herself he was there.

  ‘That’s it, Ndhlovy,’ said Joss, ‘you just keep walking.’

  ‘You keep heading homeward with the elephant. I will fetch the tractor and trailer and the men from the village to help us load her. Keep sharp now.’

  ‘Okay,’ Joss said just as Ndhlovy bumped him a bit harder and he almost lost his balance.

  Bongani smiled. ‘You keep moving to the road and then home, understood?’

  ‘Yes. We’ll be coming.’

  ‘Watch for leopard; we are in their country and they might think you are easy prey. Swap weapons with me. I know the .303 is heavier than your .22, but you might need to use it.’

  Joss nodded and switched rifles.

  Bongani watched him adjust to the extra weight. ‘The ammo belt will not fit around your hips – put it across your chest.’

  ‘This is heavy. Can’t I just take a few rounds and put them in my pocket?’

  ‘No. You need to be fully armed out here. If a leopard comes, or something worse …’

  Joss adjusted the heavy rifle and ammo belt onto his shoulders.

  ‘I’m reminding you again, shoot or be killed,’ Bongani instructed.

  ‘I got it, Bongani. It’s not like I haven’t ever been alone in the bush before—’

  ‘But you have not been alone in the bush as much as I have. You are still young. There is so much still to teach you.’

  ‘I’ll watch for leopards and hyenas and anything else that can eat me and Ndhlovy while you’re gone. I promise, cross my heart,’ Joss said as he crossed his whole chest with his free hand.

  Bongani nodded as he increased his stride. ‘You are a true African, inkosana Joss. In your heart. You want to save the babies of this land, not kill them. I am happy to tell your mother about the baby, and have her get mad at me, because you have chosen to nurture this Ndhlovy. Today you have proved you are a child of Africa. I will see you now-now.’ He waved as he walked away.

  Joss watched as Bongani adjusted the strap of his .22 rifle, which hung from his shoulder tight on his back, t
hen he started to jog back towards the village. He didn’t look back.

  * * *

  The sun hovered low above the tree line, a huge ball of orange. Joss watched as their shadows danced along, already three times longer than he and the elephant were in real life. He headed steadily southeast, towards the lodge and safety, with Ndhlovy close behind, her baby feet imprinting like giant saucers over his tracks as she walked. All the while he kept up a conversation with the elephant, explaining how they needed to walk through the village before they could reach their lodge on the bank of Lake Kariba, and about the noise that the others would make when they arrived to help. A coolness descended as the sun sank lower into the horizon.

  He heard the sound of whistling, then a donkey bray, and men singing in harmony, before he saw Bongani. He was driving the cart that belonged to his father’s village: three donkeys pulled the converted back of an old bakkie. Six men stood in the cart, holding tight to the cabin guard.

  Joss smiled. Ndhlovy would be able to save her strength. The cart would not be as fast as the tractor, but it would scare the little elephant a lot less. He moved off the road into the bushes so that there was room for the donkeys to turn. The elephant pulled away from him as the donkeys drew near, but he rubbed her ears and encouraged her to be brave.

  ‘Bring it to the back. The donkeys do not seem spooked by it,’ Bongani said.

  Joss walked towards the cart. The elephant followed, even though its ears flapped at the unfamiliar animals and the new men. Bongani had unloaded the cattle ramp and Joss started to walk up it, still holding the little ellie’s trunk.