Stalking Ivory

by Suzanne Arruda

  “You’re correct, Harry. It’s not funny. It’s hysterical.” Jade guffawed again and hugged herself as she doubled over in laughter.

  “You’ve really got the hang of this tracking business, don’t you, Hascombe?” said Sam.

  “What the bloody blazes are you doing, Featherstone?” Harry roared when he spotted Sam placidly cranking his movie camera.

  “I’m recording the dangers of safari life for posterity.”

  Harry swore again in a rapid stream of curses that conscribed Americans, movie cameras, and Sam in particular to perdition. “You can’t make a film of this!” he bellowed as he spun around to face them again.

  “Oh, don’t worry yourself, old man. The sound doesn’t record at all. No one will know what you’re saying. Still suitable for family viewing, unless a few of the brighter kiddies can read lips.”

  Jade whooped again. “Hang on, Harry,” she said as she wiped a tear from her eyes. “I’ll help you down.”

  “When you do, Jade, make sure you keep either your profile or face to the camera,” Sam directed. “A pretty woman always makes the picture.”

  “When I get down from here,” roared Harry, “I’m going to break that bloody camera into bits if you don’t stop filming now!”

  “You’d better stop, Sam,” said Jade. “As long as Harry keeps swinging his fists around, I’m never going to get close enough to undo the knots.”

  “Anything you say, Jade,” answered Sam. “Watch the camera please, Kalinde,” he said as he limped past Harry. “Let me help you, old man.” He grabbed a panga from one of Harry’s porters and sliced right through the rope.

  Harry dropped like a lead weight onto the ground, the impact forcing one last curse from his mouth. Jade hurried over to give him a hand up, and to try to keep him from taking a swing at Sam. She wondered if she’d have an easier time holding back an angry rhino. Sam’s brows furrowed as well, as though he disapproved of her hands on Harry’s broad shoulders. Men!

  “Easy, Harry,” she said. “Temper on safety, like you used to tell me, remember?”

  Harry wrenched himself free and dusted off his clothes. “Was this your doing, Jade?” he demanded, pointing to the snare.

  Biscuit, impatient at standing so long, butted Jade again. “Chiumbo, would you take the cat back to camp?” asked Jade. “Jelani will end up coming for him otherwise.”

  Chiumbo whistled to the cheetah before starting down the trail. Biscuit ran to him, seemingly glad for the chance to leave.

  “Now why would I set a snare, Harry?” said Jade. “I’m photographing wildlife, not hunting.”

  “That’s not an answer,” Harry growled. Some of his porters, burdened with two tusks, started to set down the ivory and take a break. Harry turned on them. “Take that on back to camp,” he ordered. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

  The men hefted the two four-foot tusks and resumed their trek. Claudia von Gretchmar patted her forehead and sighed loudly. “I am tired and hot, and about Mercedes I am worried. I do not want to wait for these”—she hesitated and searched for a word—“pleasantries to end. I will with the ivory go.”

  “What could happen to that child at camp to worry you?” asked Liesel, her voice edged with sarcasm. “You have never worried about her before.” She made a scoffing chuckle. “And her big, strong papa ist there to protect her.”

  Claudia glared at Liesel, and Jade worried for a moment that the older woman was going to start ripping the younger one’s hair out.

  At the mention of Mercedes’ name, Vogelsanger’s brow furrowed. “I will accompany you, Frau von Gretchmar,” he said. “To protect her on the way to the camp,” he added to Harry. He nodded to the others and hastened after the porters.

  Jade suddenly remembered the photo negative of a partially clothed Claudia in the arms of another man, an image she’d set aside as meaningless until now. Was Claudia having an affair with Vogelsanger? She’d have to get the negative out and study it again. Perhaps Beverly would recognize the man.

  “Well, Jade? I’m waiting,” said Harry after the others had departed.

  “Maybe you set it and forgot about it, Hascombe,” said Sam. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against a tree. “Or maybe I set it. Did you ever think of that? Or how about those poachers I’ve heard about?”

  Jade shot a look at Sam that told him to put a sock in his mouth before he started any more trouble. Sam pretended to misunderstand.

  “Did you need help there, Jade?” he asked. “I can coil that rope for you.” He strolled over and took the rope from her hands, making certain that he held them for a moment and that Harry saw it.

  He did. He also saw Jade’s dark brows shoot up over her emerald green eyes in surprise at Sam’s liberty. “Good idea, Featherstone,” Harry said with a toothy grin at Jade. “Wouldn’t want those pretty hands to get rope burn, would we? I remember how soft they felt when we danced close together at the Muthaiga Club.”

  Jade expected the two men to start butting heads together at any moment. Good heavens! It’s rutting season in the forest. She decided to do her own head butting and attacked another topic. “Run into any poachers out here yesterday, Harry?”

  “Why yesterday?”

  “Because someone shot at me again. Thought maybe you saw or heard something. Where were you and your people?” She looked at the Muellers. “I don’t see Otto von Gretchmar and Mercedes. Where’s the rest of your group?”

  “Is this an inquisition?” Harry snapped. “Was it your intention to hang me from that blasted tree just so you could interrogate me?” He flexed his hands, clenching and releasing them.

  Liesel Mueller patted Harry’s tensed muscles and he jerked free. Next she sidled over to Sam and smiled. “You are an American man, ja? I have not seen one before.” She ran her gaze slowly over him, as though she were inspecting a prototype, shifted her rifle to her left hand, and touched his biceps. “Very nice muscles. Almost as strong as Herr Hascombe.”

  Jade watched Liesel’s husband to see how he took this display. If anything, he seemed amused by it. Jade wondered if Liesel knew something about yesterday’s shooting and was doing her best to distract everyone, so she turned the questions back onto her. “Frau Mueller, where are your friends? I don’t see that pretty Miss Mercedes or her father here. Don’t they like to hunt?”

  The peroxide blonde slapped her rifle on her left shoulder and posed with her left hip shifted towards Sam and her right hand on her narrow waist. “Mein Gott, Mercedes walking? She would out here die.” She sniffed in disgust. “She is only with us because her papa wishes it.”

  “Fräulein Mercedes is not the same kind of woman as you are, Liesel,” said her husband, Heinrich. “Nor is she brave like Fräulein del Cameron,” he added. “Mercedes is like a hothouse flower that does not survive well outside of protected walls.”

  Liesel’s purring smile quickly turned into a scowl as her husband discussed Mercedes so familiarly and raised Jade to the level of a new rival.

  Jade recognized the intended compliment towards her abilities. “Thank you, Herr Mueller. I’m sure a sportsman such as yourself can appreciate the hazards to a delicate young lady. I’m surprised her parents insisted on bringing her along with them.” She glanced at the trees as though she expected to see the elder von Gretchmar emerge from them. “But then, he doesn’t seem to be cut out for safari life, either. The last time I saw him out of camp, he looked as red as a beet.”

  “Von Gretchmar only purchased one elephant license and he bagged his already,” said Harry with a snarl from behind her. “He only stayed behind with Mercedes so his wife could tag along today.” He stepped in closer till he loomed next to her. “I’m a patient man, Jade, but my patience is wearing thin.” His voice rose in pitch. “Now, why all the questions? Especially,” he added, “since you never answered mine.”

  “I’m sorry, Harry,” Jade said, her voice dripping sweetness and her eyes wide with innocence. “Did you ask me somethin
g?”

  He stared down at her. “Did you set that trap?” he roared.

  “Back off, Hascombe,” said Sam as he hurried to Jade’s side.

  Harry glared at Sam. The two men were matched in height, but Harry clearly held the advantage on overall size. Jade heard Mueller say something in German about an amusing battle for dominance in the herd and heard Liesel’s laugh follow.

  Jade shoved Harry out of the way before the situation got out of hand. “What if I did set the trap, Harry? No one told you to step in it.” She heard Sam chuckle beside her and wheeled on him. “And I don’t need anyone else to fight my battles for me.” Sam reeled back a step.

  Harry adjusted his hat and retrieved his rifle from the ground, where he’d dropped it when he was snared. “I’m not sure who or what you were trying to catch, Jade, but if you did set this, then you’re playing a dangerous game. One day, you’re going to go too far and that pretty little head of yours is going to roll.”

  “Is that a threat, Harry?” she called as Harry stomped off down the trail.

  He turned, and said over his shoulder, “Take it for a bit of advice from a friend.”

  Mueller tipped his hat to Jade and nodded to Sam as he passed. Liesel ignored Jade entirely, winked at Sam, and sashayed after her husband. Jade watched them till they took the fork towards the north; then she turned back to her ruined snare and sighed.

  “Why’d you cut the rope, Sam? I don’t think I can reset this one.”

  Sam collapsed his camera’s tripod and handed the equipment back to his porter. “Why in tarnation would you want to reset it, Jade? Did you ever stop to think that Beverly and, God forbid, Hascombe are both right?”

  Jade turned and studied Sam, her head tipped to one side. “You don’t like Harry, do you?”

  Sam blinked. “Not particularly. But then neither, it seems, do you.”

  “But I have reasons. You, on the other hand, just met him.” She continued to maintain eye contact, knowing that the one she scrutinized generally blinked first and looked away from her intense green eyes. “I find that curious.”

  Sam, as if to give lie to her expectations, didn’t look away; he just smiled, folded his arms across his chest, and met her gaze. “Call it first impressions. Now, what are your plans, Simba Jike?”

  For the first time, Jade knew she might lose the staring match. She felt like her old tomcat, Rupert, in a back-arching standoff with another equally strong cat. To back down meant to lose face, to take the secondary rank. To continue meant a fight. What would old Rupert do? She needed the human equivalent of washing, something to break off the confrontation. “Pass me the rope. I want to set a deadfall snare over there.” She pointed towards the tree where she’d stashed the rifles. Both she and Sam looked off in the new direction, thereby ending the stalemate equitably.

  Sam retrieved the rope from where he’d hung it on a low branch and gave it to Jade. “I’ll help you.” He waved to the porter, still standing aside with his camera. “Come on, Kalinde. Let’s give the lady a hand.”

  The three of them headed down the hill and, after a few false turns, located the hollow tree where Jade and Chiumbo had stashed the rifles the day before. To her relief, the rifles hadn’t been discovered, and the camouflaging brush showed no signs of disturbance. With Sam’s and Kalinde’s help, she rigged up a heavy log to a toggle braced in place with several rifles. The end result was that when someone removed enough rifles, the toggle would slip and drop the log onto the victim.

  “Not sure it’s quite up to Tarzan’s standard,” said Jade as she surveyed their work, “but it will have to serve.” She scanned the surroundings, peering intently past the trees into the shadows.

  “Looking for Boguli?” asked Sam.

  She nodded. “He wasn’t at the lake where the elephants were, so I hoped he might still be in this area. He’s the one who showed me this tree.”

  “Old folks have minds of their own, Jade. He’s probably moved on. Maybe he went back to his own people.” Sam pulled a watch from a shirt pocket. “Speaking of going back to your own people, we should be getting back to camp.”

  “You’re probably right. Beverly will have a search party out for all of us soon.” Disappointed, she turned back up the trail. “What did you think of Liesel Mueller’s comments about Mercedes and her father?”

  “Patriarchal German father, a miniature kaiser,” said Sam from behind her. “He wants to go on safari and never mind what his wife or daughter wants. They must do what Herr Papa says.” He walked in silence for a moment longer, then added, “Perhaps he is the reason she spends so much time in camp. Maybe she would like to go with the others, but he won’t allow it. That could explain why she is so unhappy.”

  “Maybe,” answered Jade. She winced as a stab of pain pierced her left knee, and automatically surveyed the trees for danger. She saw none and continued on. “But Vogelsanger looked to be more concerned about the girl being left with her father than Claudia did. Do you suppose the old man hits Mercedes?”

  Sam shook his head. “I didn’t see any sign of bruises on her. I sure wish I could have understood the argument I heard this morning,” he added. “As I said, my German is very limited. I ignored foreign languages as much as possible at Purdue University.”

  “You’re a Boilermaker, then,” said Jade as she glanced over her shoulder. “I never met a—” Her words choked off as Biscuit charged out of the brush and slammed into her. She saw the streak of blood on the cat’s side and touched it. His skin and fur were intact underneath. Someone else’s blood! “Chiumbo!”

  A rasping growl from an angry leopard nearby answered her.

  “Hurry!” she yelled, and took off after Biscuit into the forest, knowing full well that Sam and probably Kalinde could not keep up with her, but unwilling to waste precious time. Just when Jade felt that her lungs were beginning to burst, Biscuit slowed and stopped. The slender cat sniffed the air and hesitated as though uncertain what to do next. That was when she saw Chiumbo lying on the ground, an arrow protruding from his left leg.

  Less than twenty feet away stood an angry leopard. Except that the leopard, Jade noted, wasn’t snarling at her, Chiumbo, or Biscuit. He faced something out of her vision beyond the trees to her left. From somewhere in those trees, an elephant trumpeted, a shrill rise and fall of notes that reverberated in the forest and seemed to surround them.

  The leopard wriggled backward and slapped at the empty air with his paw. His face contorted in a grimace, ears flat against his head as he spit and screamed. The elephant’s defiant call blasted the air once more, and the cat turned tail and ran. As soon as the leopard bounded off, Jade raced over to Chiumbo and felt for a pulse. Kalinde ran to her side.

  “Bwana Sam told me to drop the camera and run after you.” He looked at Chiumbo. “Is he dead, Simba Jike?”

  Jade shook her head. Before she could answer more fully, she heard the sound of puffing from behind her as Sam approached.

  “Is he dead?” he asked, echoing Kalinde’s question.

  “No,” answered Jade. “Only drugged from the arrow. But he would have been dead soon if that leopard had gotten to him.”

  “I heard an elephant, too,” said Sam as he knelt beside her. “Must have thought the leopard was after it and scared the cat away. Lucky thing for Chiumbo.”

  “Yes, very,” agreed Jade with a sideways glance at Sam. She turned her attention back to Chiumbo. “I never saw it, but you know, it sounded remarkably like that old tusker that we watched being killed.”

  “Another bull,” said Sam as he examined Chiumbo.

  The wound had already clotted around the arrow in Chiumbo’s leg, testimony to how long he’d lain there. Trying to remove the arrow in the forest would mean reopening the wound and not only risking further blood loss but also attracting still more predators. Jade and Sam decided it was better to leave it in his leg until they could get him to camp.

  “Kalinde, run back to camp,” said Sam. “Bring back en
ough men to carry Chiumbo and a stout blanket to use for a stretcher. We’ll stay here and guard him.”

  Twice while they waited, the leopard coughed nearby. The cat hadn’t entirely abandoned its potential prey, but it hadn’t gathered up enough courage to challenge them, either. Once, they heard the snapping of trees that indicated an elephant herd on the move in their vicinity. Jade and Sam were deciding how to transport Chiumbo out of its path when several low, purring trumpets echoed nearby, and the herd shifted direction and went around them. Finally, after what seemed like forever, they spied Avery trotting at the head of a column of Wakamba men, Kalinde leading them.

  “How is he?” Avery asked.

  “His breathing is steady,” answered Jade. “But I’ve been swatting flies away nonstop. We’ve got to get this arrow out and his leg cleaned.”

  “Beverly’s arranging a makeshift hospital in the supply tent,” said Avery. “It was the only way I could keep her and Jelani back at camp.”

  Sam returned for his camera while the others gingerly lifted Chiumbo from the ground and placed him on the blanket. They waited only for Sam to return before they began carrying the wounded headman back to camp. Once they arrived, Jade assisted Beverly in removing the arrow and cleansing the wound. They bandaged his leg and left him resting and semiconscious in Sam’s tent while they met for a quick council of war.

  “Chiumbo needs proper medical attention, maybe some sulfur if there’s any to be had,” said Jade. “It’s essential that you take him to the government station at Kampia Tembo at the foot of the mountain.”

  “There’s only a hut or two there,” said Beverly. “The district commissioner must be gone away or our runner would have been back by now.”

  “There’s good water, and even if the commissioner’s not there, he surely has some medical supplies in his hut,” said Jade. “Get what you can, then head south for Archer’s Post. You can make it in a couple of days.”