Catherine took out her camera again and attached the largest of her zoom lenses. She leaned out of the window, taking the time to wait for the right moment and shot. As she focused on an elephant lying on its side, she noticed it suddenly rise, seemingly agitated. The animal was the closest one to the car. It stood at about eight feet at the shoulder and must have weighed every bit of 6,000lbs Catherine guessed. The elephant spread its ears wide and rocked on its feet whilst emitting a deep, menacing rumble. Catherine followed its gaze into the water on the other side of the sandbank and let out a tiny gasp as she saw what lurked there.
It lay in the water, not visibly moving its body or limbs, but still edging towards the sandbank. Its long pointed snout slipped through the water, gliding along the surface with deliberate slowness. Catherine caught the glint of the green iris housed within its bony, scale enforced socket. The crocodile wasn’t huge, but at nearly twelve feet it was still over twice as long as she was. She shuddered at the thought of lying beside it in comparison. As Catherine took her eye away from the camera, she looked to find Thomas and Jericho also transfixed by the scene before them.
With a fearsome and loud trumpet call, the elephant swung around and charged through the water towards the opposite bank, her large bulk pushing the young calf aside and separating it from its mother. The other elephants followed in a panic, stampeding up the steep bank. Catherine held her breath as she watched the calf regain its feet quickly and begin to follow the others. Its mother called out in anguish as her back legs slipped and she stumbled. She crashed to the earth, sending a huge section of the bank tumbling into the river, in a mudslide that momentarily consumed her calf and pushed it back into the water.
The crocodile flew up the sandbank, but suddenly paused there. That’s when Catherine noticed the other one. It had just silently appeared in the mouth of the pool down river from them, surfacing like a submarine at the sound of the thrashing calf in the water. This crocodile was enormous, at least another six feet longer than its smaller companion. Its broad body and thick snout, as well as its huge size, suggested this was a mature and very old male. As Catherine looked at the smaller one perched on the sandbank, she wondered if it was maybe a female, and perhaps its mate. She began to dig her fingernails into the leather headrest she was gripping as she watched the huge crocodile slowly begin to beat its tail and slip towards the flailing calf.
“Oh to hell with that,” declared Jericho, suddenly starting the engine. “That’s the only calf in the herd this year.”
“Go for it, the old girl can take it,” nodded Thomas.
Without waiting for further encouragement, Jericho gunned the car down the bank. Catherine gripped the headrest harder as they plunged bonnet first into the water, sending an impressive bow wave ahead of them. The roar of the engine and the displacement of the water was enough to send the smaller crocodile sliding off to the side, back into the water. But as Jericho turned the Big Cat and sent it flying over the sandbank, the big male didn’t budge. As the water level rose to the tops of the wheel arches, Jericho stopped and began to back off a little, reversing onto the surer footing of the sandbank behind.
The mother elephant and the rest of her herd made screaming trumpeting calls as they ran back and forth along the edge of what was now a four-foot cliff between them and the calf. The sound was deafening. The baby instinctively reached up for them with its trunk, looking for reassurance and help as it stood in knee deep water at the pool’s edge. Catherine watched as the elephants knelt and groped at the calf with their trunks in desperation. Once or twice, it tried to clamber up the bank by rearing onto its hind legs. Each attempt sent a small mudslide back down into the water in its wake. Catherine suddenly got hopeful, realising that the thick clay was beginning to pile up and soften the steep angle of the bank. Then she looked back to the big croc. It had snuck even closer, now just a body-length away. The calf wasn’t going to make it.
Catherine glanced at the water lapping against the side of the door. She wasn’t thinking, acting only on instinct as she shot up from her seat and reached for the open roof above. Thomas watched in horror as Catherine slipped past him, hoisting herself skyward before he could grab her. She threw her legs over the roof and slipped down the windscreen and over the bonnet of the car, splashing noisily into the water. She surged forwards through the coffee coloured froth, only looking at the calf and trying to stop her panicked thoughts settling on the encroaching crocodile.
Thomas and Jericho moved like lightning. By the time Thomas was standing next to the Irishman, Jericho had reached behind to the rack and was passing him his gun. Thomas leapt up, throwing himself forward to firmly plant his feet on the bonnet. He saw Jericho train his nitro express double rifle at the crocodile’s head, allowing him to focus on Catherine. He turned back towards her with a shudder as he heard a sound like rolling thunder, followed by the crack of a nearby acacia as it fell to the ground.
The bull elephant was immense. It brushed the tree aside as if it were kindling and stepped out onto the bank. Thomas guessed he stood nearly fourteen feet at the shoulder and that his red, pot-marked hide encompassed a mass of 14,000lbs. His eight and a half feet long ivory tusks must have weighed more than a 100lbs each alone. They curved skywards in a smooth arc, but the bull pointed them down towards Catherine and the calf. He spread his ears out in a display of unmitigated aggression and lifted his forehead high as he let out a murderous, rage-filled bellow. Thomas brought up his rifle. He hadn’t missed the dark stains on the bull’s face that indicated he was in musth, which explained his close presence to the herd. At such a short distance, he knew he would have to angle the shot steeply from beneath the centre of the bull’s forehead. If he went for what most people would consider between the eyes, even his large calibre bullet was unlikely to penetrate the 9 or even 10” thick skull and its kinked sinews and muscle padding. He aimed at the third fold on the bull’s trunk, where he knew the bullet was most likely to pass through the sinus cavity and into the brain. He took a breath and placed his finger on the trigger.
Catherine edged closer to the calf, talking quietly and kindly to it as she approached. The calf raised its trunk and turned towards her. As it did so, it noticed the crocodile again. It didn’t hesitate to decide that Catherine was the better option, and quickly stepped behind her. It began to clamber at the bank with renewed panic. Catherine reached out, touching the baby on its back as she sidled up to it. She felt it tense and rear backwards, but she knew its focus was now on the crocodile, which had begun to edge forward again. Catherine pressed her back up against the calf’s behind and anchored her feet into the thick mud beneath the swirling water. She began to push with all her might, her eyes fixed on Thomas’s. Then, in her peripheral vision, the hulking form of the crocodile began to emerge.
The raking actions of the calf had begun to form a channel up the bank. As Catherine pushed from behind, the baby suddenly found footing again and hauled itself a little way up. Catherine had to pull with all her strength to release her feet from the clamping embrace of the river mud, but as she did, she felt the calf move upwards again. She squeezed and wriggled against its doused hide, trying to help it ascend one more step and to safety. Then suddenly she felt herself falling, the wall of elephant at her back suddenly absent. She closed her eyes as she saw the crocodile lunge.
It seemed to happen in slow motion for Thomas. The crocodile rose from the water, its mouth open and ready to take Catherine between its sixty conical shaped teeth. Its seven-foot-long tail propelled it through the water at unthinkable speed. Thomas’s mind was flooded with images of the death roll he was about to witness and he imagined Catherine’s face slipping beneath the water, where the croc would keep her until she drowned, perhaps lodging her corpse in the roots of a tree until the meat was bloated and tender. But not before it popped one of her limbs for a more immediate snack. He swung his rifle back towards the croc only to see the water in front of it explode in a fountain, followed by another
to its side.
His ears were ringing, and he knew Jericho had fired. He had decided to try and scare the croc rather than kill it, placing a shot practically on top of its nose. But it was only then that he realised where the second explosion had come from. It had been the elephants. A boulder the size of a bowling ball had smashed into the crocodile’s side moments after, hurled down the riverbank by the calf’s mother. Seconds later, a large thorn encrusted limb of the felled acacia dropped from the sky onto the croc’s stunned head. With a thrash of its tail the croc spun and surged out of the pool, disappearing as soon as it reached the deep channel of the main river.
Catherine sat trembling against the muddy bank for a few moments before she remembered the bull elephant. She jumped to her feet and spun around, still shaking violently from fear and now the cold, thoroughly drenched as she was. The bull took a step forward, a reverberating groan emanating from deep within its throat. It folded its ears back and reached out its trunk. Catherine froze as the tender tip gently touched the top of her head, brushing aside a wisp of her hair as it did so. The bull tenderly explored her nape with the two opposing lips of its trunk. The bull took a big sniff, and the warm air against her skin tickled, making her shiver. Then, as she watched the calf scamper away by the side of its mother, the great elephant took a step back. For a moment, the three people and the elephant locked eyes, before it turned away and followed the group of females at a distance. Just as Catherine’s legs gave way to the shock, she found herself caught by Thomas, who lifted her up and carried her back to the car as Jericho backed it up further onto the sandbank.
“Well my old friend, it looks like you have some competition,” smiled Jericho. “I think old Sefu took a liking to Catherine there.”
“Sefu?” Catherine stammered.
“It means sword. He’s probably one of the last great elephants in Kenya, and as you just found out, the Tsavo river herd benefit from his protection. As now do you I’d rightly say,” Jericho winked.
CHAPTER TEN
Thomas stared into the fire, set within a ring of stones on top of the kopje. Dinner had passed with little comment between him and Catherine and now she had wandered back to the tent. He had gone from feeling shocked, to angry, to perplexed by her actions at the river with the elephants. He knew she had scared herself a little too. Her face had been ashen for most of the journey back to camp and he had seen her hands trembling. He was alarmed at the recklessness of her actions.
“A good laugh and a long sleep cure all manner of things you know,” Jericho offered as he took a seat next to him, passing him a cold bottle of lager and taking a swig from his own.
“I just have no idea of how to even bring up what we witnessed today,” said Thomas, shaking his head.
“Carefully I’d say. In my experience, telling a woman she’s done something you’re displeased with has the same effect as baptising a cat,” Jericho replied.
“I have to admit, part of me is absolutely glowing with pride,” Thomas said, sitting back.
“Then maybe that’s the part to listen to,” Jericho offered.
They both supped at their beer quietly, watching the fire.
~
Catherine sat on the bed in the tent. She hugged her knees, resting her head on them as she closed her eyes. She was determined not to cry, but her whole body shook with the effort of damming the flow of tears. She didn’t quite know herself why she had felt so compelled. She was a wildlife biologist and knew better than most that nature was red in tooth and claw. But there was something about how the elephant calf had seemed helpless and panicked. The seeming arrogance and surety the crocodile displayed as it crept closer. She had first considered that it was perhaps just some natural maternal instinct that had kicked in, but she knew that wasn’t it, or at least not the whole picture. The scenario had just seemed horribly familiar. The feeling of being trapped against her will had welled up within her. More than anything right now, she wanted to be able to retreat to the top of Carn Eige with her thoughts. Back where she’d found the bullet casing. Where she had watched David Fairbanks die as he in turn tried to kill her.
She was startled by the sound of soft footsteps coming along the side of the tent. She lifted her head, tense and alert as she followed the sound towards the door. She was surprised to see a tall, native boy step inside. He was thin and lanky, with tightly cropped black curls of hair. His skin was especially dark and he met her gaze with deep, chestnut coloured eyes. He wore only a pair of faded orange jeans, with old green trainers on his feet. His chest and top were bare. He looked at her questioningly.
“Bwana?” the boy uttered.
Catherine’s brow furrowed, but she pointed out towards the kopje. As the boy turned and left, she jumped up from the bed to follow him.
~
Thomas turned as he heard several raised voices. Jelani and Mansa were striding towards a young boy approaching from the direction of the tents. Catherine was quick to get between them and the lad, who seemed frightened and skittish at their sudden appearance. Thomas jumped up to intervene, with Jericho close behind.
Jelani and Mansa were both talking at the boy, their Swahili too fast for Thomas to follow, although it was clear they were demanding to know who he was and what he was doing at the camp.
“Leave him alone and back off,” warned Catherine, stepping towards the two men.
They immediately fell silent, surprised.
“I speak English,” stammered the boy. “I need the Bwana.”
“What do you need him for?” Thomas asked, stepping in beside Catherine. He glanced down the track, where more men appeared, heading towards them, and followed by Kelly, Mason and Karni.
“Chui,” the lad gasped.
Thomas tensed slightly. Chui was the Swahili word for leopard. He felt a sinking feeling in his gut as he remembered Dr. Yeboah’s warning about the increase in aggression and man-eating as Kenya’s predators found their usual sources of prey diminishing.
“This past year three children have been taken. Tonight, a young girl,” the boy explained, panting slightly as he did. It was clear he had been running to bring them the news. “You are nearest Bwana, others not come.”
“They won’t come because they know Kanu Sultan controls that territory,” Jelani interjected.
Thomas noticed the boy visibly stiffen at the mention of the crime lord.
“Shit,” Jericho chuckled, “a man-eating leopard, in this bush, at night, in the back yard of an arms dealer. I guess that’s one way to go.”
“I don’t know what you’re laughing at, you’re coming with me,” Thomas replied.
“Just remember you’re the one with the paperwork to shoot the mean stuff. I can’t do that for you,” Jericho reminded him.
“You will come?” the boy asked, wide eyed.
“Yes, we will come,” Thomas nodded. “Where?”
“My village, to the west,” the boy replied.
Thomas brushed past Jelani and Mansa and walked over to the equipment tent and gun rack. He pulled a large, elongated and weathered looking holdall out from underneath a shelf. He unzipped it and started taking the contents out and placing them onto the table. Catherine joined him.
“This is my leopard kit,” Thomas explained. “Hunting leopards in thick brush is especially hazardous to one’s health, so it pays to be prepared.”
First out of the bag was a brown leather jacket. The soft looking brown hide was creased and pot-marked all over. It looked as old and weathered as the bag it had come out of. Thomas turned the collar out, showing her the strip of aluminium sewn into it.
“Leopards like to attack from behind, with a bite to the neck or the base of the skull. And if they do get behind you, you absolutely will not hear them coming,” he said.
Catherine wasn’t convinced the upturned collar would be much defence against a leopard’s fangs, even if laced with metal.
“Kevlar has been woven into the lining and innards, it’s basically arm
our,” he added, as if reading her thoughts.
He took out a small tin and checked its contents, revealing them to be four morphine syrettes. He also took out a couple of buckle tourniquets, a bottle of hydrogen peroxide solution and bandages, placing them all on top of each other. He put them into a small backpack he retrieved from the bottom of the holdall and passed it to her with a shrug.
“Is all this necessary?” Catherine asked. “You seem more rattled by a single leopard than the idea of taking on an entire pride of lions.”
“I am. I don’t like leopards,” Thomas replied.
“And with good reason,” chimed Jericho as he joined them. “They don’t call the leopard the flying chainsaw for nothing. You see, a leopard will hit you with teeth, front claws and back all at the same time. Thomas and I once ran a camp here in Kenya next to…shall we say a slightly less reputable operation. One of their guests was ill-mannered enough to put a small bullet into a big leopard, which is never a great combination. Their pro went after it, as is expected by man and beast given the circumstances. Ten minutes later he reappeared, resembling a meatloaf wrapped in a safari shirt. They got most of the major holes in him plugged whilst they whistled up a rescue plane.”
“When it arrived,” Thomas continued, “another hunter got off and took over the safari. He was a well-known professional, and his first order of business was to settle the score. Only the leopard took issue with this, and sent him back to camp with some lovely new scars to be, and in time to catch the plane back with Bwana number one.”
The Daughters of the Darkness Page 10