Ivory

by Tony Park

  Her mother had not known where to find water every day, and all of them felt the stress of her uncertainty. Yet still they trusted in her judgement. It was their way. They had passed the blood-soaked dirt and bleached white bones of more of their kind, but always her mother had kept them a step ahead of the rattle and hum of the killers.

  They walked all day and all night, feeding on the move and stopping to slake their massive thirsts whenever they chanced upon water. The end of each day found them heading unfailingly into the setting sun.

  Fires sometimes raged, racing through the parched mopane, leaving treats behind in the form of cooked, caramelised sap, which was one of the few pleasant memories she had of that long trek west. In time, they reached the mountains. Not the isolated peak she recalled from her birthplace, but a line of blue-green hills that stretched as far as she could see from left to right as she walked towards the red ball falling through the dust.

  Her mother led them into those hills and it was an effort for all of them. One of her aunties gave birth one night, a long, painful affair made worse by the climb and the days without water. The tiny baby was stillborn and they all paused to touch and mourn it, but not for long. Her mother ushered them forward, with a prod of her tusks or flick of her trunk if needs be.

  When they came to a stout fence she thought her mother would have to give up, but she summoned the remainder of her failing strength and rested her forehead against a post. She pushed, and one of the young bulls – a noisy, annoying beast, as most young males were – joined her at the fence. Soon another took up the challenge and slowly but surely the steel poles and wire mesh yielded to their combined weight. The little ones, as she was then, had to climb up the diamond patterned wire and drop off the other side.

  It was a long, long time since she had come to her new home, but she had been safe here.

  Things were different on the western side of the mountains, and they had all had to learn how to survive here. There were more humans, and more of their noisy, rolling, smoke-belching conveyances but, unlike the country of her birth, these did not always bring death.

  She remembered the first time she saw one, on the floodplain beneath the mountain, how it had emerged, like an apparition, from the morning mist. She had screamed in terror, and heard something almost as fearful from inside the steel beast that confronted her. Her mother had nudged her little backside with her trunk and she had sniffed the creature inside the box. Not long after that time the truce that had existed between the elephants and the two-legs had ended. Every vehicle was a threat, every man a killer. They had learned to fear and to run.

  But those days were gone and by the time she had taken over as the matriarch, after her old mother passed away silently one night, the herd had lost its fear of people in cars and trucks. They were an occasional nuisance, but nothing to fear.

  The large angry bee, however, was different. Even here, west of the mountains, it was the harbinger of death. Not on the scale of her youth, but there was still the pop-popping in the distance, and the flensed bones and blood-soaked grass in its aftermath.

  Her own daughter – her fifth surviving offspring – ran to her and huddled beneath her legs. She made a soothing sound that belied her own fear. She turned her head and watched the bee reach the far end of the vlei, then turn around and head back towards them. It was lower this time. Never had one come this close to her. She knew what her mother would have done. She would have run for the trees. The water could wait. She raised her trunk and sounded a shrill note, but the deep rumblings from her stomach gave her real orders to the herd.

  She set off, her baby’s tiny legs flashing in a blur to keep up, towards the mopane trees on the far side of the vlei. Behind her, the others needed no further encouragement. Instinctively, they raced to catch up with their leader and to crowd around her. They moved as a group now, a great grey mass thundering through the golden grass, rather than a straggling line of individuals. Safety lay within the family. They were as one in the face of danger. It was the same when the lions circled in the evening, looking for stragglers or wayward youngsters. Stay together and survival was possible.

  ‘She’s leading them past the water to the trees. Head her off,’ Alex said to Kobus through the headset’s microphone.

  Alex hated that he had to drive this herd of elephants onto Cole’s guns. More than enough animals had been killed already, but if he ignored Steyn’s request for assistance then the people on the ground would become suspicious. They needed to buy themselves as much time as possible. Also, if Cole was busy slaughtering this new herd then he and his men would pay little attention to Alex’s men as they loaded the ivory from the animals the professional hunters had killed earlier.

  Kobus overtook the herd and banked hard to the left, forcing Alex to reach out and grab the top of the instrument panel to steady himself. They were low now, close enough to the ground for the rotor wash to flatten the long grass of the vlei.

  ‘She’s turning.’

  ‘Good job,’ Alex said, though his face was grim.

  The matriarch had veered left short of the trees, startled by the helicopter hovering not a hundred metres from her.

  ‘Stay this side of them, between the herd and the trees, and slightly behind.’

  ‘Roger,’ Kobus said.

  Alex could see vehicles at the far end of the floodplain now. It had to be Cole and his team waiting in ambush. He guessed they hadn’t travelled out in the grass in case they spooked the elephants into running away from them. Better to let the helicopter bring them onto the guns, like an airborne beater.

  The matriarch lifted her trunk on the run. Alex couldn’t tell from inside the chopper which way the wind was blowing, but perhaps her keen sense of smell had detected the men on the ground ahead of her.

  ‘She’s making for the trees again,’ he said into the microphone. ‘Head her off, Kobus.’

  The pilot dropped until the wheels of the big helicopter were almost skimming the long grass stems. Alex guessed that this work was best done by smaller, more nimble machines. He admired the way Kobus had gotten the feel of the aircraft so quickly. He increased speed and they edged up alongside the elephant. When she raised her trunk again it reached almost as high as the spinning rotors above. For a moment, Alex thought she might actually charge the Oryx.

  She slowed and flared out her ears, flapping them in a vain attempt to scare off the thing that was tormenting her family.

  Alex stared at her.

  Kobus flared the nose upwards, as if challenging the mighty cow.

  ‘Hold steady,’ Alex said.

  ‘She’s stopped. I need to get her moving again,’ Kobus replied.

  ‘I said hover here, damn it.’

  Novak had moved between the pilot and copilot’s seats. He had been monitoring their conversations on the spare headset and he placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder. ‘What is it, man?’

  Alex opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t form a word. He was staring at the distinctive v-shaped notch in the elephant’s left ear.

  He was five years old again, sitting on his father’s lap, his hands on the black steering wheel of the shiny new Land Rover.

  ‘She’s a little female,’ his father had said. He heard his British accent again, as clear as if he were sitting beside him now, in the helicopter. ‘She’s about your age, Alex. She doesn’t mean us any harm.’

  The elephant shook her head again. The thing wasn’t moving now. She gave up her quest for the trees. She turned and headed along the vlei.

  She smelled danger in front of her, in the trees, and the humans were on foot. She might have a chance at charging through them. She would let nothing stand in the way of the safety of her family. If only she could outrun the buzzing bee.

  *

  ‘Get in front of her,’ Alex said.

  ‘What? Why, Alex? Cole and his men are up in the trees ahead. Can’t you see them?’

  Alex turned to stare at the pilot. ‘Yes I can bloo
dy well see them. Get past the herd and get in between that cow and Cole.’

  Kobus turned to look at Novak, who just shrugged.

  ‘Don’t look at him. Just do as I tell you. Turn them back. I want you to chase them into the mopane bush, away from the culling team.’

  ‘All right. You’re paying the bills.’

  The herd started running and Alex knew they would soon be in range of Cole’s rifles. He took off the flying helmet and climbed out of the copilot’s seat as Kobus drew level with the charging cow. She looked across at them but did not slow her stride.

  Alex told Novak to give him his headset, then grabbed an R5 off one of the cargo seats and cocked it. He sat in the open hatchway, his legs dangling out. The ground rushed up to meet him as Kobus turned again and Alex was face to face with the charging elephant.

  ‘She’s not stopping, Alex. For fuck’s sake, I think she’s going to try to ram us!’

  The elephant had her trunk down, curled between her tusks, and her ears pinned back – a sure sign, Alex knew, that she meant business and was ready to kill. He felt his stomach drop and Kobus increased power and climbed in a straight hover.

  Alex pulled the rifle into his shoulder and flicked the selector switch to automatic. He squeezed the trigger and emptied the thirty-five rounds into the ground, just metres in front of the elephant.

  She stopped.

  Frank Cole strode from the treeline, his FN rifle up. His team of hunters emerged on either side of him. They were walking forward.

  The elephants jostled each other, those in the rear of the herd colliding into those who had stopped on the matriarch’s signal. There were trumpet blasts of confusion and two juvenile males ran around the group in a circle.

  ‘Magazine!’ Alex yelled back into the cabin of the helicopter. Kevin tossed him a fresh one and Alex ejected the empty mag and thrust home the new one. He yanked back on the cocking handle. ‘Drive them into the trees, Kobus.’

  ‘OK, OK.’

  The Oryx lurched, nose down, and Kobus flew a tight half-circle around the confused animals. He flared the nose up, facing down the matriarch again. She raised her trunk to sniff the air and must have seen the line of men walking towards her. The smell of gunpowder wouldn’t have escaped her either. With the helicopter now on the other side of her, she headed away from the men on foot, towards the shelter of the trees she’d originally been making for.

  ‘That’s it,’ Alex said. ‘Come on, come on . . .’

  The matriarch lengthened her stride and the herd stepped out to match her. She thundered eastwards down the vlei then veered left into the mopane. Coppery leaves and small branches were shredded as the huge creatures charged into the foliage.

  ‘Give her some space now,’ Alex said into the intercom.

  Kobus climbed and Alex could see the elephants continuing unchecked towards the distant blue-green haze. He allowed himself a private smile. It was good to do the right thing for a change. Out in the clearing, he saw Frank Cole raise a fist to the sky. ‘Let’s go pick up his ivory, before the old man gets back to it.’

  She ran until her big heart and lungs almost gave out. Behind her was her family. They were tired, scared, but alive.

  The incline of the first row of hills slowed her. All was quiet now. There was no buzzing in the sky, no popping, no acrid chemical smell to scare her.

  It was time for her to do as her mother had done and to lead her charges to safety, although this time she was going east, back towards the land of her birth.

  She had expected to find the fence her mother and the other old ones had pushed down all those years ago, but it was gone. In time, they crested the final ridge and below them, spread out forever, was a forest. For the last few years the trees where she lived had never seemed to grow taller. In the bad years, when water was scarce, it was sometimes hard even to fill the bellies of all those who depended on her.

  But the trees on this side of the mountains were taller than her. There were seed pods and leaves in the uppermost branches that not even she could reach, and shade for all of them from the hot afternoon sun. There was food for a lifetime here.

  She felt safe, for she had come home.

  ‘When we touch down, keep your sun visor down in case any of them get close to the helicopter,’ Alex said to Kobus. ‘There’s a chance someone on the ground might have met one of the pilots.’

  They were coming up on the remains of the herd Frank Cole and his men had slaughtered in the morning. Just two African hunting scouts had stayed with the heaped ivory to guard it and help load it onto the helicopter.

  Alex moved further back in the cramped cargo compartment to where Kufa was and shouted in his ear that he should climb into the copilot’s seat and put on Petrice’s helmet and pull the darkened visor down.

  ‘But I’m not a woman!’

  ‘I know, but at least you’re the right colour!’

  Alex was first out the open hatch when the Oryx’s wheels settled in the grass near the pile of tusks. The clearing looked like the abattoir it had become. The dry earth was soaked dark in patches and a pile of tusks was waiting for them.

  They sweated hard loading the ivory and were nearly done when a Toyota Hilux emerged from the trees and bounced across the clearing, stopping a few metres short of the tips of the spinning rotors. Frank Cole got out, slammed the driver’s door and strode across to Alex, who was passing tusks to Novak inside the helicopter. Kevin stood by with an R5 held loose in front of him.

  ‘What the hell was that all about?’ Cole yelled. ‘I want to talk to that fucking idiot of a pilot. The word around the camp this morning was that there was a black woman flying this thing. Was it her fault?’

  ‘There was a bit of confusion on board. They hadn’t done this sort of thing before,’ Alex said, hoping to calm the hunter.

  ‘Well that was bloody for sure! And who opened fire? I’ll throttle the stupid bastard myself. Couldn’t they see we were down there? We could have been shot!’

  Alex shrugged and passed the second-last tusk inside to Heinrich. He motioned to his men to get on board.

  Undeterred, Cole walked to the cockpit and banged on the perspex.

  He must have sensed someone was behind him for he turned around and saw Alex. ‘Hey! Something’s not right, man. That copilot won’t take off her helmet, but her body doesn’t look like a woman’s. All the guys were talking about her this morning.’

  Cole looked at Kobus now, cupping his hands on the windscreen to cut out the sun’s glare. ‘The pilot’s wearing national parks uniform, with honorary ranger tabs, and the copilot’s got camo on instead of a flying suit. What’s –’

  Alex reached under his shirt and pulled out his Glock as Frank pulled the walkie-talkie out of the pouch on his belt.

  ‘Give me the radio, Frank.’

  The hunter turned from the cockpit to Alex and shook his head. ‘Shit. I thought you looked too bloody hard to be a PR officer.’

  Frank was three metres away and he tossed the radio at Alex, perhaps expecting him to try to catch it and become distracted for a second. Alex ignored it and let it fall to the ground near his feet. ‘Back away. Slowly.’

  Frank raised his hands and looked over his shoulder, no doubt hoping one of his men would see something was amiss. ‘This’ll cause a shit storm for the government and national parks. They won’t be game to cull again, you know.’

  Alex kept his face impassive, but just waved the pistol a little.

  Frank’s face split into a grin. ‘I saw you during the shooting this morning. I watched your face when the butchering started. You’re no poacher. You looked like you felt something for those elephants. What are you, some kind of animal rights activists or something?’

  Ignoring the question, Alex reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He balled it and tossed it at Cole’s feet. ‘Give that to Colonel De Villiers. It’s got GPS coordinates for the locations of the real PR team and the helicopter’s crew. There’s an
airman with a bullet in his leg not far from here who’ll need medical attention, but he’ll live.’

  Cole nodded and Alex backed around the cockpit. He raised his free hand and twirled his finger in the air. At the signal he heard the engines reach a higher whining pitch. He lowered the barrel of his pistol, pointed towards the walkie-talkie and fired a shot. Frank was still grinning, hands up, as Alex sat in the open cargo compartment.

  Across the toes of his boots, as the helicopter rose, Alex saw Frank break into a run towards his bakkie.

  28

  Alex could see Satara airstrip ahead and made out the cargo net full of the morning’s ivory haul sitting waiting in the open. Two soldiers in camouflage fatigues were sitting on the ground next to the tusks, but they got to their feet at the sound of the approaching helicopter.

  ‘I have to touch down before they attach the net to the hook under the helicopter,’ Kobus said into Alex’s headphones.

  ‘Why?’ Kufa asked. He was still sitting in the copilot’s seat, wearing Petrice’s helmet.

  Alex answered for Kobus, who had flared the nose to bleed off speed as they started to descend towards the airstrip. ‘The rotors build up static electricity while we’re flying, particularly in dry dusty weather like this. Kobus needs to ground the helicopter to discharge the energy, otherwise when those guys touch the hook they’ll get a shock that will knock them off their feet.’

  Kevin, wearing the flight engineer’s helmet, lay on the floor of the cargo compartment watching the ground beneath them. ‘All clear,’ he said. Kobus had told him to take the position as he would need to relay instructions to him when it was time for the men on the ground to attach the cargo net to the hook. Kevin would have to direct Kobus left or right or backwards or forwards. It was called pattering, Kobus had told them.

  They touched down about twenty metres from the two soldiers, who wore goggles to protect their eyes from flying debris, and helmets in case they bumped their heads on one of the Oryx’s wheels while it was hovering above them. One man would attach the ‘donut’, a looped nylon sling at the top of the net, to the hook, while the other man was there to hold on to the hook-up man’s belt, steadying him against the massive downwash of the main rotor.