The bull stood his ground, ears fanned out, trunk raised to catch the scent of his tormentor. From her perch, Jade saw a bloody wound on his side just below the tip of the ear where someone had aimed for a vital spot with an express rifle, but missed. The old elephant made a magnificent image, terrifying in his rage. Jade felt a tear well up in one eye as she witnessed the plight of the forest monarch. Slowly she slithered to the edge of the branch and slipped her Graflex from around her shoulders, determined to pay witness on film to the bull’s brave stand.
Two tormentors appeared, and Sam slid his rifle from his shoulder, presumably to pick them off. Jade stopped him with a touch on his arm. “Too many,” she mouthed as seven more Abyssinians emerged from the shadows. None of them carried any rifles, which meant at least one more remained safely behind cover.
One archer came in too close. A slight breeze brought his scent to the enraged bull and the beast charged. His ears fanned out to the sides and his trunk and tail stuck straight out from either end like a knight’s lance as he defended his life and honor. The terrified man launched his arrow in a futile attempt to halt the charge. It stuck in the bull’s face, below one eye, but within seconds of being struck, the bull gripped the man in his trunk. The screams of both the hunter and the hunted blended into one, ripping through the forest, as the elephant slammed his attacker to the ground. Trampling feet cut the scream short.
The bull next wrapped his powerful trunk around the end of Jade’s branch and tugged. Immediately, she started to scramble backward. A strong arm wrapped around her waist and hauled her back just as the branch snapped like a matchstick less than a foot from where she’d been. Jade acknowledged Sam’s timely aid with a nod before she turned her attention back to the battle below her, praying they weren’t too exposed now.
With a new weapon in his grasp, the elephant once again charged his attackers, swinging the branch like a club. Jade risked personal exposure and took a picture of the bull. She needn’t have worried. Even she couldn’t hear the shutter click over the elephant’s rampage and no one below her had eyes for anything but the furious animal now on the offensive.
The stout mahogany limb caught one of the poachers on the side of the head and cracked it like a melon. The man’s body snapped back from the force, flew into the air, and crashed into a bloody heap five feet from where he’d been standing. In their panic, the remaining men bolted back into the trees behind them, hoping for safety.
For a moment, Jade believed the ancient patriarch would chase the poachers away and win the day. His size and fury more than matched their puny arrows, drugged or not. But the next sound ripped away all hope as it blasted through the forest. The bull met his match with an express bullet to the brain. He toppled to the ground in a thunderous crash. Jade groaned.
Immediately the remaining Abyssinians appeared from their cover and raced to their prize. For the next forty-five minutes the nine men swarmed around the dead bull like ants on a grasshopper, hacking and hewing. The first two pulled machete-like knives from their belts and chopped at the tusks while the others shouted instructions or jumped about in a sort of victory dance. Two of the men carried rifles.
Jade watched to see which of the riflemen would examine the killing shot and publicly acknowledge being the shooter. A lean African dressed in sandals, calf-length drawers, and a long-sleeved tunic glanced at the kill shot, then examined the shoulder wound, which had missed the heart. He pointed to one of his companions, an even thinner man, and laughed. Apparently he considered his companion a poor marksman.
Jade reached for her binoculars and focused on the rifles. One was a double-barreled elephant gun, an English Bland, and one that had seen a lot of hard use, judging by the scratches on it. The other rifle looked newer and definitely too small a caliber to be of any use hunting elephants. She tried to get a better look at it, but the rifle’s owner kept dancing around.
One man, the one with the Bland, wanted to take a foot back with him as a trophy, but the others argued against it. By then the tusks fell free and six men hoisted the elephant’s two ivory spears onto their shoulders, groaning under the weight. The trophy-hunting poacher decided not to remain alone and fell in behind them. Within minutes, the forest shadows quickly covered any trace of them.
No one in the tree blind moved or spoke for another ten minutes. Jade, for one, needed time to conquer her emotions, and the others took their cue from her. A blend of grief, rage, and despair welled up within her, each vying for dominance. Finally, a lone tear trickled down her cheek. She swiped it away quickly and whispered to the others to climb down.
Jade went first, to make sure no danger lingered. She knew she could climb faster than Mr. Featherstone if necessary, but there was no need. All the poachers had gone. Jade called to Jelani to follow with Chiumbo assisting him. Finally she and Chiumbo offered to help Sam. He protested that he didn’t need a hand and waited until they moved aside before he continued his descent.
“Psst, Jade.” The whisper came from Jade’s left. “I say, are you all right?”
“Avery!” Jade exclaimed. “What in thunder are you doing here?”
Avery approached their tree, holding Biscuit by a rope tied to the cat’s collar. Sam clambered down, and Avery handed off the cheetah to Jade in order to assist his friend. Biscuit busied himself by first inspecting Jade, then Jelani. Once Sam was back on the ground, the two men shook hands and clapped each other on the shoulder.
“I see you found Jade,” said Avery. “Thank God you’re all right.” He patted Jelani on the head and grinned at Chiumbo.
“We’re fine. Better than my old tusker,” said Jade. The group approached the dead bull with the quiet reverence one expected to see when viewing a fallen head of state.
“The poachers?” asked Avery after a prolonged moment of silence.
Jade pointed to the trampled area nearby. “That’s one of them there.” Only a darkening stain and scraps of cloth remained. Everything else resembled pulp melded into the earth and forest litter. “And there’s another.” She pointed to the man beaten with the tree limb.
“Good for Tusker,” Avery said. “Wish he’d gotten more of the buggers.”
“Most of them had drugged arrows, but two of them had rifles. At least one was an elephant gun, but I’d swear the other one looked like a German Mauser,” Jade said. Her voice choked as she struggled to maintain a grip on her emotions. Be darned if I break down in front of Avery, much less a stranger.
“A Mauser?” asked Avery. “Are you sure?”
Jade shook her head. “The man wouldn’t stand still long enough for me to get a good look, and it’s been a while since I’ve seen a Mauser anyway,” she admitted. “Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t an elephant gun. Did you see it, Sam?”
He shook his head. “Not with any clarity.”
“Chiumbo?”
“I watched the boy.”
Jade walked towards the trees, scanning the ground for a spent cartridge. She found two and picked them up.
She handed the cartridges to Avery while Sam looked over his shoulder. “Well, this one looks exactly like one from my English Bland,” he said.
“That’s what I thought,” Jade agreed, “but look at the other one. It’s certainly a much smaller caliber.”
Sam took the second cartridge from Avery’s hand and inspected it. “I agree with you, Jade. This could have come from a 98 Mauser rifle.”
“And it looked new,” added Jade.
Avery glanced from Jade to Sam and back again. “I only caught a glimpse of these men,” he said. “As motley as that lot looked, I don’t see how they could afford either of those weapons. I don’t know about the Mauser, but a Bland, at least, is very dear. Any idea how they’d get them?”
Jade shrugged, not ready to voice her thoughts yet, and Sam shook his head. “Stealing?” he suggested. “Murder? I suppose there are enough Mausers left over from the war and it’s not a stretch to think it could have come from old Germa
n East Africa.”
“We need to get back to camp,” said Avery. “Bev will be hunting us down before long. She went into a complete panic once when Biscuit tore back into camp alone.” He stroked the cheetah’s head. “Thought I’d have to tie her down to make her stay behind.”
Jade didn’t question Avery’s protectiveness. She attributed its recent growth to their increasing desire for an heir. And, if her suspicions were correct, Bev had gotten herself in a family way. Jade made a mental note to quiz her friend in private later.
“How much did you see?” Sam asked.
“Very little,” admitted Avery. “I came back on the double-quick, but they were nearly through hacking off the tusks by the time I arrived. Took a moment to see that you weren’t part of the melee. Then I got back under cover.” He looked at them sheepishly. “Not sure what I’d have been able to do if you had been in danger except try to take down a few of them. Didn’t know where you were at first until I got the idea to look up in the trees. I presumed Jade had you all stuck up there.”
“And you were right,” she said. She walked to the dead bull and, with a mumbled apology to the ancient elephant, yanked an arrow from his side. “It looks like the same type of arrow that we found with the cow and in my tent.”
“Someone shot an arrow into your tent?” asked Sam. Avery briefly summarized the recent attack.
In the meantime, Jade had pulled another five arrows from the dead bull.
“Are you starting a collection?” asked Avery.
“If I can get ahold of a bow, or make one, I’ll have use for these.” She shot a look at the man with the battered head. “He won’t mind if I take his bow.”
“You’re going on the hunt?” asked Sam.
“In a manner of speaking,” Jade answered, walking over to the dead man. She pushed the body aside with her boot. “Blast it! He landed on his bow and snapped it.” She kicked the body back into place.
“Should I ask what she’s going to hunt?” Sam whispered to Avery.
From the corner of her eye, Jade saw Avery and Chiumbo both vigorously shake their heads no. Jelani stood patiently to the side, waiting for the adults to finish. Jade motioned for him to join her. “We should leave,” she said. “Hopefully our runner reached Smythe by now or someone who can get to him.”
“He already knows there are poachers here, Jade,” said Avery.
“Right, but he might not know that they’re better armed. Besides,” she added, “he’s got a trail to follow from here.”
“I will follow their track, Simba Jike,” offered Chiumbo. “Maybe they have a camp.”
Jade mouthed “later” and jerked a thumb towards Jelani. “Bwana Dunbury is right, Chiumbo,” she said. “That is Captain Smythe’s job.” She met her headman’s eyes and saw that he understood. They’d follow the trail, but not when the boy was around.
“Right,” agreed Avery. “Glad to see you’re finally thinking sensibly, Jade. Now, if you don’t mind, we need to get back to camp before my wife starts tracking us.”
WHILE THE FEAR and excitement gradually wore down the adults, Jelani showed all the resilience of youth, which intensified as they approached camp. Bwana Avery’s friend became a brand-new audience, and the boy, proud of his role in Simba Jike’s adventures and of his reading ability, decided to regale the man with some of his expertise. “Watch,” he announced in the time-honored fashion of children everywhere to indulgent adults. “I will swing from tree to tree like Tarzan in the books.”
He made a leap for one of the lower branches and hauled himself up onto it. From there he took hold of a second, slightly higher branch and swung himself out over the trail. Unfortunately, he ran out of reachable branches and hung as Jade and the others approached.
“Very good, Tarzan,” said Avery as he scooped the boy from the limb and set his feet on the ground.
Jelani frowned and kicked the dirt. “These trees are no good. The branches are too high to reach.”
“That’s because the elephants ate the lower ones,” said Jade.
“Tantor popo balu-den,” said Jelani.
“Wait a minute,” said Sam. “My Swahili may be just shy of terrible, but I didn’t understand a word of that.”
Jade laughed. “Jelani is speaking the language of the great apes from the Tarzan books. Avery brought along several, and Jelani’s been reading them. He said the elephants eat branches.”
“Jelani bundolo dango,” the boy added as he made a stabbing motion with his right hand. “I killed a hyena.”
“Good lad,” said Sam. “I read Tarzan of the Apes, but it seems I’ve got some catching up to do.”
“I will read to you,” said Jelani, and he thumped his chest proudly.
Back at camp, Avery greeted his frantic wife with a gentle hug. Then Sam brought out his motion picture camera and tripod and insisted on capturing what he called a typical safari scene. Jade found his determination amusing, and watched as he directed everyone’s activity, from the camp cook’s meal preparation to Avery’s gun cleaning. Only Biscuit didn’t seem interested in following his cues and stalked off to Jelani’s empty tent for some quiet. Jelani, a natural ham, managed to be in every scene, and twice Jade watched Sam indulge the boy’s vanity at the expense of several feet of film. Finally she came to Sam’s rescue by asking Jelani to read and suggested Sam could hear him better if he was sitting next to him rather than standing behind a camera.
Jelani grabbed Son of Tarzan from Avery’s tent and read until he could barely see the words in the diminishing light. Jade smiled at the boy’s fascination with the jungle character and his fictional adventures. Suddenly, an idea popped into her head, and her smile took a menacing twist. If Smythe couldn’t take care of the poachers, then she’d draw some inspiration from those tales and handle the poachers herself. They weren’t the only ones who could make snares and traps. With just a little luck, she might even acquire a bow without having to make one.
CHAPTER 9
Mount Marsabit is covered in forest, not jungle. True, the trees may be evergreen rather than shed their leaves in the winter, but the air is cool, not steaming, and the understory is thin rather than tangled. On some parts of the mountain grow beautiful cedars that make one think of the famed cedars of Lebanon. Walking in these woods, it is easy to forget that you are in Africa unless, of course, you bump into the wildlife.
—The Traveler
THE HARDEST PART of Jade’s plan had been slipping away from everyone else. Beverly had turned into a regular mother hen recently, but thanks to her increased tendency towards nausea, she opted to stay behind in camp. Jade also had Bev’s upset stomach to thank for Avery’s decision to remain with his wife. Jelani and Sam were another matter entirely. With that uncanny knack that youngsters have of knowing when something’s afoot, the boy wanted to stick to her like a leech, and Sam seemed to think that being a fellow American made them long-lost friends. She didn’t want any more friends, especially one that reminded her of the war every time he took a step. In the end, Jade and Chiumbo simply skipped camp three hours before sunrise while the others were asleep. She left a note saying she intended to stay overnight in one of her blinds to get some night shots.
They traveled as lightly as possible. Chiumbo carried a tin filled with dried meat, raisins, and dates on his back in a canvas pack and wielded a foot-long panga knife in his right hand. Jade carried her Graflex with the roll film, and a battery-operated flashlight, in her pack. Two coils of rope hung from her left shoulder, and her Winchester was slung across her right. A bone-handled knife with a five-inch fixed blade hung in a leather case from her belt. Each carried a canteen, and they left the box of food in one of her tree blinds, then cut across country to the old bull elephant’s carcass.
Scavengers had already made serious inroads on the elephant’s body, but the nausea that welled up inside Jade came more from the feeling of loss than from the sight of ripped flesh and offal. This elephant had lived far too long and sired too m
any calves to merit this ignominious end. She wasn’t sure she could ever look at a billiard ball or a piano again without picturing this magnificent creature.
Chiumbo found the poachers’ trail easily, since men heavily burdened with ivory left some impressions, even on the dry ground. They followed the path quickly at first, then moved cautiously as the risk of stumbling on the Abyssinian poachers increased. After several hours, Chiumbo stopped and pointed to the ground in front of them.
“The men have separated here, Simba Jike.” He pointed uphill. “The ivory went this way.”
Jade stooped beside him and examined the crushed vegetation. “I agree. The impression is much stronger that way.” She glanced to the left to the other imprint, which led down the mountainside. “And this track is much fainter, like a man walking lightly. How many men do you think went that way?”
Chiumbo shrugged. “If they walk one behind another, it is hard to tell.”
“I’m guessing at least one armed man went with the ivory.” She looked up the trail. “Maybe they’re caching it somewhere.” When she looked back down, something about the tracks caught her eye and she leaned over to view them from a different angle. “This man wore boots. See?” She pointed to a definite heel mark and a partial curve of a right foot. “The poachers we saw yesterday had flat sandals, didn’t they?”
Chiumbo nodded. “And this man does not walk flat.”
Jade studied the print again. “I see what you mean, Chiumbo. He walks on the outside of his foot. Interesting.” She straightened. “I don’t recall seeing this print before.”
“Perhaps this man joined the others here,” Chiumbo suggested.
“Yes, that’s very likely. So this man in the boots, he might be their leader?”
Chiumbo nodded. “I think you are correct, Simba Jike. See? There are no marks for a struggle. And,” he added, “if he leads these men, then he may wear boots and not sandals to show that he is important.”
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