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Authors: Isobel Chace

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BOOK: A Pride of Lions
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“Will do,” Johnny came back.

I pulled my binoculars out of their case and focused them carefully on the bank of the dam below. Without even trying I could see half a dozen lions stretched out in the long grass, sleeping away the hot middle hours of the day. A pair of rhinos were standing knee-deep in the mud that lingered round the lake, their tough hides fidgeting as the insects moved in on them, annoying them despite the tick-birds that clung to their ears and marched up and down their backs.

Hugo began counting under his breath. “One, two, three, five—no, six ... damn it, at least nine males! What do you make it?”

I counted with him, ignoring the females and the young playing together under the trees.

“There he is!” I breathed. “Oh, Hugo, can you see him? He is splendid, isn’t he?”

“Very splendid!” he agreed, his voice dry with mockery.

“But you can understand why they all want to join up with him, can’t you?” I persisted. “I’m sure he’s as clever as he’s beautiful!”

Hugo smiled faintly. “I daresay. Apart from man, the lion is the best hunter that the animal world has ever produced. Brains and teamwork!”

“And all organised by a mere male,” I added provocatively.

“That’s why you think he’s so splendid,” he retorted crushingly.

There was a certain amount of truth in that, I supposed, so I withdrew from the conversation as gracefully as I could by deliberately starting the count once again from the beginning.

“I think there are about forty animals in all,” I said at last.

Hugo groaned. “As many as that? I made it thirty- eight.” He tapped Johnny on the shoulder. “All right, Johnny, take her down and we’ll have a chat with the
askari.
He may have an idea how we can break up the pride.”

“Okay,” said Johnny.

We swooped down out of the sky to a perfect landing near to the Aruba compound. A group of
askaris
came running down to meet us, saluting smartly as soon as they saw it was Hugo.

“The
simbas
are still coming in, Bwana,” their leader greeted us. “Is that why you have come?”

Hugo nodded. “What are you doing about it?” he asked immediately.

The
askari
shrugged. “Yesterday and today we have provided extra food so that the young will have enough to eat. There is nothing else to do while the
Mzee
gathers them round himself.”

Mzee,
old man, is a term of deep respect more commonly used of the President than a lion. Yet, when I thought of that magnificent animal drowsing in the hot sun, it seemed an apt title.

Hugo smiled at the collected
askaris.
“I was thinking of forcibly splitting them up,” he said, almost apologetically. “I’ll need trucks and a great many men.”

“Where can you take them that will be far enough away?” one of them asked.

“I don’t know,” Hugo sighed. “To begin with we’ll take half of them across to Tsavo West. If that doesn’t work, we’ll have to get permission to take a few to Amboseli or Masai Mara. It will give us time to work on the problem if nothing else!”

“Ndiyo,
Bwana.”

There was an air of excited expectancy amongst the men that was catching. They were pleased to be pitting their wits against the king of the beasts. There was more than the spice of danger that such an enterprise demanded, there was also the doubt that they would win. It was a fairer fight than most. The lions would not tamely give in to the will of man this time. They had their own cunning and their own customs to protect. “How are you going to mobilise all these people?” Johnny asked languidly.

“On the radio,” Hugo answered. “I’ll have to ask you to fly back to my place to get the anaesthetic and the darts. You’d better take Clare back with you.”

I glared at him. “I won’t go,” I said flatly.

Hugo raised his eyebrows. “Won’t?” he said softly. “What about Hans Doffnang? This may take all of a week.”

Of course I knew that my job would have to come first, but it was a bitter disappointment to me.

“I suppose Janice will want to come to take photos of it all,” I said dejectedly.

Hugo grinned. “Why don’t you suggest it to her?” he said meanly.

“I will,” I assured him.

Johnny pretended not to notice the undercurrents that lurked behind the exchange. “I’m going to brew up some coffee while you’re making out the list of the things you need,” he said lightly. “Shall we all go up to the compound?”

He pulled me away, taking me firmly by the arm and smiling pleasantly all the time. “It’s not his fault,” he said as soon as we were out of earshot.

“No,” I agreed, unconvinced.

“Then why make it difficult for him?” he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m not!” I said sulkily. “The thing is that he doesn’t
want
me to stay!”

Johnny laughed. “Unbelievable!”

I gave him a grudging smile. “I know I’m not being reasonable—” I began to explain.

“Oh,
quite
reasonable!”

I was shocked. “What do you mean?”

“Stands out half a mile,” he said with brotherly frankness. “It’s not so much the lions, it’s Hugo!”

I swallowed hard. “I don’t think that’s true,” I said more to myself than to him.

“Well, if you ask me, you’re in love with the guy,” he went on in matter-of-fact tones.

I blenched. “Nobody is asking you!” I retorted.

“And,” he continued, ignoring my complaint, “as Hugo isn’t blind, I daresay he knows it too!”

“Good heavens!” I exclaimed, much struck. “I really believe that you’re going to recommend
kuheera
too!”

Johnny laughed. “I might—if I knew what it meant!” There was a moment’s silence. “Aren’t you going to tell me what it means?” he asked at last.

I shook my head. “No,” I said bluntly.

He grinned. “I’ll have to ask Hugo about it,” he teased me.

“If you do,” I threatened, much put out, “I’ll never speak to you again!”

We had reached the compound by this time and Johnny went straight to the shop to purchase some instant coffee. Apparently he thought the whole thing was extremely amusing, but he said with a kindness I had not expected, “Then I won’t And as a bonus I won’t tell Janice either!”

I didn’t need to ask what he meant by that. I helped him light the small blue camping gas fire and set the tin kettle on to boil, annoyed that my hands were trembling as I did so.

“Men have all the fun!” I said bitterly.

Johnny’s eyes glinted behind his spectacles. “I wouldn’t be too sure!” he said blandly.

By the time Hugo and the
askaris
joined us, the kettle was boiling and I felt no more than slightly awkward in Hugo’s presence.

“I’m sorry it has to be like that,” he said as he accepted his mug of coffee.

I gave him a cheerful grin. “It doesn’t matter.”

He leaned forward slightly. “Shall I fly back with you? I could collect my own gear and come back with Johnny tomorrow?”

“There will be less room for the gear,” I reminded him smugly.

His eyes lit. “It might be worth it!”

But I shook my head. ‘You’d better save your energies to deal with the Old Man,” I told him sharply.

“All right,” he agreed. “On your own head be it!” Johnny and I walked back to the aeroplane alone. I had some difficulty getting into the cockpit and when I was there I could hardly see the seat belt properly for the unaccountable tears that had come, unbidden, into my eyes. Johnny sat down heavily in his own seat. He started up the engines and settled more comfortably before the panel of dials and gadgets with which he flew the plane. We went slowly forward, increased our pace and lifted gently into the air. Aruba fell away behind us. There was no reason, I thought dully, why I should ever see the place again.

Johnny was unnaturally cheerful once we had got into the air.

“Do you want to make a small diversion?” he asked me over the intercom. “We could take a look along the river and see if we can spot any more lions coming in.”

“All right,” I said without enthusiasm.

He banked sharply. It did something dreadful to my stomach. I concentrated hard on keeping my body and soul together, with my eyes shut fast. My earphones clicked, or it could have been my ears, and then Johnny’s voice came again.

“Hey! Clare, take a look over there!”

“Where?” I asked sharply. My stomach no longer seemed to matter to me. I stared out of the window, but I could see nothing but brush and an occasional animal taking shelter from the heat.

“Bloody poachers!” exclaimed Johnny.

"What?”
I exploded, intensely excited.

“Sorry! Poachers! Look at ’em! They’ve got something too! Hold on, Clare, I’m going down to look!”

He put the nose down and we dropped down out of the sky, buzzing the practically naked group of men below us. One of them threw a spear at us, a pathetic attempt to make us go away. The rest of them scattered, running here and there to escape us.

“I’ll have to go back to Aruba,” Johnny said clearly. “Hugo will have to know about this.”

I blinked. “But the elephant is still alive,” I gasped.

Johnny snorted angrily. “Butchers! I’ll see them caught if it’s the last thing I do!”

We banked sharply upwards and I had to twist my head to see the writhing elephant that the poachers had brought down but had not managed to finish off. It had the most enormous tusks of any that I had ever seen. A huge beast—he must have stood a good twenty feet high at the shoulder—he trumpeted in agony.

“If I had a gun!” said Johnny sharply.

“I feel a bit murderous myself,” I replied, marvelling that I should sound so calm.

A second later we were falling out of the sky again. The scattered poachers were feeling braver and they stood in a line, defying us as we hurtled towards them.

“It’s no good,” Johnny said reluctantly. “I’ll radio Hugo and tell him to be ready for us.”

It was a nightmare flight back to Aruba. Johnny threw the plane through the air, making me feel decidedly sick. His face was tense and bitter as we came in to land, and there, almost to my surprise, Hugo stood waiting for us. It seemed to me that we had barely landed before we had taken off again, a grimfaced Hugo and a couple of rifles vying with my shins for the totally inadequate leg-room in front of our shared narrow seat.

CHAPTER SIX

JOHNNY set the plane down not far from the dying elephant. Hugo dropped down on to the ground and turned to reach up for the heavier of the two rifles.

“I’ll have to put the beast out of its misery,” he said darkly. The trumpeting cries of the dying elephant were almost unbearable to all of us.

I watched him load the rifle with a sinking feeling. How could people be so cruel as to murder this massive animal for its ivory? I could have wept. An elephant will live for sixty years, and there are few enough left, God knows, and yet it only took a second to bring down such an animal. How could they?

Hugo walked away from the aircraft towards the elephant. I grabbed the other rifle and jumped down on to the ground behind him. Without turning his head he reached out his spare hand to me and drew me close in behind him.

“You won’t like this,” was all he said.

“But it has to be done,” I consoled him.

He stood stock still, some yards away from the elephant. The muscles in his neck stood out as he raised the rifle. Carefully, he took aim. He knew exactly what he was doing. The shot cracked through the air and smacked into the elephant. There was a long, last sigh of breath and then there was nothing but a great mountain of flesh. Hugo took a few cautious steps towards the dead animal, making sure that it was indeed dead. I followed at an even more cautious distance, marvelling that any animal could be so big. It was quite as big as some of the African houses that spread throughout the country.

“They’ll come back for the ivory, we’ll catch them then,” Hugo said in an unnaturally calm voice.

I gritted my teeth together. There was a great gash on the elephant’s shoulder where a spear had hit home. There was another behind the great beast’s ear which was already covered with flies.

“They’ll see the aeroplane,” I argued.

Hugo looked at me. “Johnny will have to go on to the camp.

The lions won’t wait—even for poachers.”

My spirits lifted dramatically. I clutched the rifle I was holding closer to me. “I shall have to stay, won’t I?” I said.

Hugo’s face was completely enigmatic. He might have been playing poker. “Can you shoot that thing?” he asked.

I nodded. I didn’t want to actually tell a lie and the truth of the matter was that I wasn’t at all sure.

“Good,” he said.

I felt decidedly weak at the knees. I could hardly believe that I was to stay after all, that I didn’t have to go back to camp. It was indeed good! Hugo walked back to the aeroplane.

BOOK: A Pride of Lions
3.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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