Stalking Ivory (13 page)

“Most curious,” exclaimed Avery. “Perhaps he is an old Kikuyu who came up from Nairobi?”

“No,” replied Jade. “He knows the area too well. He said he remembered that ancient-looking trail and tree from following the elephant herds in his youth.”

“Maybe he’s all that’s left of some old tribe in the area,” suggested Sam. “If that’s true, he could hold a personal grudge against the Abyssinians. They may have been instrumental in eradicating his people.” He straightened his good leg and leaned forward. “He could be very useful to us.” He nodded to Jade. “Do you think you could find him again?”

“Again? I didn’t find him the first time. He found me.” She shook her head in amazement. “The man made less noise than an owl on the hunt.”

“Maybe he will look for you again,” Jelani’s young voice piped up from their feet, where he once again rested against Biscuit. “We could go back to the hollow tree and wait for him.”

The “we” was not lost on Jade. “That is a good idea, Jelani.
I
will either return to that part of the mountain tomorrow and look for the old man or find him near the elephant herds. But,” she added with a smile, “
you
will not come with me.”

Jelani thrust out his lower lip in a universally recognized pout. Before he could protest, Beverly came to Jade’s rescue. “Jelani, I need you to stay here with me and help me make a new fishing pole. My other one broke.”

Jade knew there hadn’t been any place to fish in since they’d left the Guaso Nyero River, and Jelani surely knew that, too. She doubted that Beverly even owned a fishing pole, but she was fairly certain that at least one of Avery’s would show up snapped by tomorrow morning. She appreciated Bev’s intervention. Still, Jade did feel a growing anxiety about the others’ safety.

“I would still really prefer that the rest of you left,” Jade said. “If the poachers find out some of their guns were stolen, they might demand them back.”

“As I said before, I’m not leaving without you, Jade.” Beverly’s normally melodious voice hissed.

“That’s blackmail, Bev,” said Jade. Her friend just smiled.

“Finding this Boguli is a good idea,” interjected Avery. “He probably won’t trust any of us, but he seems to trust you, Jade. Perhaps you can convince him to return to camp with you. Someone should go with you, though.” He looked sideways at Sam.

Jade saw the silent appeal to the American pilot. “Chiumbo will be with me again,” she said. “I’m sure Sam has his own business to attend to. Something to film, perhaps? After all, that is why he came here, isn’t it?”

“Actually, I spent most of the day filming the Dunburys at home on safari, and I even went back out to run footage of that old dead bull. Thought I could turn this into a picture about the plight of the elephants. So, you see, I’m available at the moment.” He flashed a winsome, boyish grin that showed a lot of white teeth. “I bet if you got to know me, you might find me an all-round swell fellow. What do you say?”

“I’d say you don’t have a leg to stand on. I’m going with Chiumbo to find Boguli.” She stood up and brushed off her trousers.

“Now?” cried Beverly. “You just got back from one escapade and already you’re going headlong into another?”

“The morning is barely begun. I can’t waste an entire day, Bev.” Jade took two steps towards her tent before turning back to Sam. “Actually, you could be very helpful, now that I think about it.”

Sam stood at attention like a soldier awaiting orders. “Sam Featherstone at your service, ma’am. When do we start?”

“
We
don’t. I have a different mission in mind for you. A reconnaissance run, if you will. I’d really like to gather more information on our German friends. Considering how two of them at least are fanatical about motion pictures, you should be well received. You could offer to film
them
for your safari movie. Perhaps you could take Jelani with you. He’s very good at infiltration.”

“I should think most of the camp would be off hunting,” Sam said.

“Exactly,” replied Jade. “But the ladies might still be in camp, ready to show you around while you film them.” She winked. “Who knows what interesting things you might capture?”

“W
HOA
! S
LOW DOWN, PARTNER,”
said Sam as Jelani trotted ahead with Biscuit. “I can walk quickly, but running’s not in the cards. Besides,” he added, pointing to the porter walking behind him with the camera and tripod, “I think Nasero would like it if we slowed down.”

Jelani stopped and waited, frowning in obvious irritation. He held the cheetah’s lead, and the big cat paced back and forth as if he, too, was annoyed with their slow pace. “You talk funny,” Jelani replied. “I do not understand this running in the cards.”

“Oh, that’s a sort of saying from my home. I guess you could say it means I have to work with what I have.”

“Oh,” said Jelani. He fell in step beside Sam and watched the American walk.

Sam saw the boy’s interest and decided he might as well explain. He wanted to win Jelani over for several reasons: one, he genuinely liked the boy, and two, Jade cared for him. “I hurt my leg in the war,” he explained. “Someone shot me.”

“Did you kill him?”

“No, I was in an airplane, and it was all I could do to land without crashing.” Sam looked down at the boy to see if he understood. “Do you know about airplanes, Jelani?”

The boy nodded. “Memsabu Jade and Memsabu Beverly and Bwana Avery showed me pictures. I think the airplanes are like motorcars that fly.”

“Very good. You understand a lot.”

Jelani shrugged. “I do not understand why we are going to Bwana Harry’s camp. We should be with Memsabu Jade, protecting her.”

Sam took a deep breath.
My sentiments exactly. Blasted fool’s errand is what this is.
Well, he thought, maybe he was a fool at that. As a kid, he’d devoured tales of adventure, always wondering if he could have one of his own. It was a dream that hadn’t seemed probable while he was working with his brothers on the family farm in Battle Ground, Indiana. Then, while studying engineering at Purdue, he saw his first airplane. He was hooked. What greater adventure could there be than flying? Soon after graduation, he’d heard about an air corps unit forming up in Texas to fight in the war, and Sam was there as fast as the train could take him.

Now, thanks to his injury, he might be grounded for life. The thought had nearly crushed him until he’d decided on making films as a new means to seek out adventure. And just when he’d wondered about the success of that plan, Avery’s package had come: the package containing a smudged carbon copy of a new book,
Stalking Death
by Madeline Thompson.

Sam had read it as he read all adventures, greedily devouring every page. By the middle, he found himself hopelessly in love with what he thought was a fictional character. But Avery and his wife swore the events in it were all true and invited him to come to Africa and meet the heroine. Meeting her, and the thought of all the wonderful wild animals and exotic people to film here, gave him fresh hope. Now here he was, and that seemed to be nowhere.
How the dickens does a pinioned pilot like me, who can’t even run, much less soar, stand a chance with a woman like her?
He gritted his teeth together in a vow of determination. She wanted him to spy on the Germans, and by thunder, that’s just what he’d do.
And what’s more, I’ll do a helluva job of it!

“Our Simba Jike wants to know if these people are working with the poachers,” Sam explained. “She hopes we can find that out. If they are, then knowing that will help protect her.”

Jelani gave him a sidewise look. “Do you believe that?”

Sam laughed, shifted his rifle to his other hand, and clapped the boy on the back. “No, but what Simba Jike wants, Simba Jike gets.”

They arrived at Harry’s camp just before eleven, as Otto von Gretchmar and his daughter sat down to a late breakfast. Sam sounded a hearty “Hello!” at the
boma
gate before entering.

“Good morning,” he said, tipping his hat to the young woman. “I’m Sam Featherstone.”

Otto von Gretchmar grunted. “
Ja,
I met you the other day. You talked about shooting down the planes.”

“Oh, that,” said Sam with a pshaw and a wave of his hand. “Just trying to impress the lady, right?” He laughed and watched as the big banker relaxed and grinned. “But I’m here to make a movie about safaris. I hoped I could film all of you in camp, but I see most everyone is gone.” He turned partway as if to leave.

Von Gretchmar jumped up, tipping his chair. “But we are here. You will film us dining,
ja
? It will be a present for my little Mercedes. See? You will set up your camera there”—he pointed to a spot where his daughter would be in profile while he took center stage—“and make the movie. Then I will bring my rifle and act like I go on the hunt.”

What a hypocritical old goat,
thought Sam, pretending to do this for his daughter when von Gretchmar obviously wanted the camera on himself. He obliged the man and began cranking out yards of Mercedes sitting demurely eating while Otto ordered the poor cook’s assistants around.
This is getting me nowhere.
A glance to the side showed Jelani, equally perturbed, sitting on the ground beside the cheetah.

As soon as von Gretchmar went to retrieve his favorite rifle, Mercedes stepped forward timidly and asked if Sam might film her walking outside the compound. “I will pretend to hear something,
ja
? And then I will hurry to the gate. Then you will go outside and film me coming out?”

Sam agreed. He was surprised how well the girl understood playing to the camera. She seemed to have a natural intuition about how fast she could move and still have him follow her, and how to play out the drama of soundless acting. Before they relocated outside the gate, Mercedes asked Sam about going to America to become an actress. That was when von Gretchmar returned with his rifle.

“What
ist
this?” he demanded. “Mercedes, you will sit down.”

“But, Papa,” she pleaded, “Herr Featherstein is going to tell me how to be an actress. It is what I want above all.”

Her father let loose with a volley of German. Sam did his best to catch anything remotely recognizable, but beyond an oft-repeated
“nein,”
he couldn’t glean anything.
Fat lot of good I’m doing here.
Then when Mercedes burst into tears and ran to her tent, Sam debated following her. He didn’t need to. Jelani was on his feet in an instant, Biscuit at his heels.
Good lad!

Sam turned his attention back to von Gretchmar to distract him. “Young lady not feeling well today?” he asked in as innocent a voice as he could muster.

“Huh?” grunted von Gretchmar in surprise, as if he’d forgotten the American. “Oh,
ja.
She has the upset stomach, I think.” He frowned and nodded slowly.

To Sam, it looked as though the man was only acting the part of a concerned father, and Sam pretended to believe it. “I should still like to film you showing me your camp. Perhaps we could have you sitting in your tent, flaps back, examining your rifle?” Sam counted on the man’s vanity to let him get a look inside at least one tent. He also needed to buy some time for Jelani. He hoped the young woman would welcome Jelani and Biscuit as potential comfort in her hour of distress. Von Gretchmar accepted the offer, and Sam hoisted his equipment and followed the man to his tent.

J
ELANI HAD SPENT
the better part of the visit sitting on the ground, stroking the cheetah, who lolled next to him.
This is very foolish,
he had thought.
What was Simba Jike thinking, sending us here?
He had looked up and watched the antics in front of him. Did this new American man really think they were helping her by watching a silly man and woman eat? He shook his head and leaned against Biscuit.

Another thought popped into Jelani’s head while the cheetah’s purr rumbled under him. Bwana Featherstone liked Memsabu Jade. That was very clear. Jelani could see it in the way the man’s eyes followed her. A prickling resentment nibbled away at his innards. He knew his jealousy had no basis in infatuation, but he felt bad about losing any of Jade’s attention to a newcomer. Hadn’t he been the one to welcome her to his country? Hadn’t he stood by Memsabu Jade’s side when they killed the hyena, and hadn’t he been there when the
mundu-mugo
gave her the name Simba Jike? He let loose a small snort of indignation. He should have been by her side now, protecting her.

The bad feeling took another twist. This Featherstone had been a warrior in the white man’s big war. He had killed someone. This man had proved himself and had reason to think Memsabu Jade would smile at him. But Jelani knew he himself was not yet a real warrior. He worried about bringing shame to his aging mother and father. They had no other children, no sons except him to give them honor. Was he bringing shame to them? Still, the
mundu-mugo
had told him to go with Simba Jike and her friends and learn to read their words. Well, he had learned one thing. He learned how Tarzan killed when he needed to. Now, there was a warrior! If Jelani got the chance, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone who tried to hurt Memsabu Jade.

Just then the silly young woman started crying as if someone had beaten her. Maybe there was something he could do here? He would go to the woman’s tent with Biscuit. She would want to pet the friendly animal to feel better. While she did, he would look in her tent. Jelani had no idea what to look for, but he’d seen the inside of enough white people’s tents to notice if something seemed strange.

As he had jumped up to follow the woman, he had glanced at Bwana Featherstone’s face. The man was smiling. This was a clever idea after all.

I
F ANYONE HAD ASKED HER
later why she decided to follow a newer, fresher elephant trail that morning, Jade couldn’t have answered. She had intended only to set up a night-shot camera by a dust-bathing spot, then head straight towards the snare in hopes of finding Boguli again. But once she finished with the camera, she spied this fresher trail heading back south to the crater and had the urge to follow it.

For some inexplicable reason, she knew in her heart that Boguli wouldn’t be at the snare. She sensed he hadn’t been following the elephants when they’d met; he’d been following her. But if Boguli did still follow the elephants, perhaps he took this trail after them. Or maybe it was the sight of that gorgeous blue butterfly sitting calmly on a moist pile of elephant dung, drinking up the moisture, that she saw as a sign. Whatever her reasoning, she took the trail, pausing only long enough to sketch its location in her battered notebook.

It wound steadily upward, always seeking the easiest climb, but after an hour’s trek, Jade reckoned she was reaching forty-five hundred feet at least. The air had cooled noticeably and the trees grew farther apart with less underbrush and more cedars. After a point, it became clear that the elephants didn’t feed much on this trail, so she reasoned it must be one linking to the lake and to their favorite bathing grounds. Her pulse quickened, not from exertion, but from excitement. The lake was the one place she’d wanted to be for the past several days, and the thought of so many elephants congregating in one spot tantalized her. After all, she still had a job to do for
The Traveler
.

“Perhaps it is good that we are not seeking the poachers today, Simba Jike,” said Chiumbo as if he read her thoughts. “If they see we have been in their cave, they will be watching.”

Jade nodded. It seemed as good a rationalization as any. She added her own. “I thought that old native I met might come up here to be by the elephants. He seems to follow them, and I want to talk with him again.”

By now the trail passed along a strip of trees that ran like a finger, bordering a patch of grassland on the downward side. Looking up, they could glimpse the summit. The line of trees ended at a grass-covered cliff and below them, shining in pristine splendor, lay the lake.

Jade felt her breath catch. “My stars,” she whispered, “it’s so beautiful.”

Gigantic blue and white water lilies bobbed on the surface until the white lilies moved and exposed themselves for what they were, egrets. Herons, ducks, and coots swam and waded among elephants, dozens of beautiful elephants. A pair of yearling calves splashed at one end, much to the dismay of an elder who turned and swatted at them with her trunk before climbing out of her bath, a water lily stuck on her rump. Close to the shoreline stood a splendid bush, bursting with what appeared to be blue flowers. A duck dived past it, preparing to land, and the “flowers” fluttered off the bush and landed elsewhere.

Chiumbo broke into Jade’s tranquil thoughts. “It is good there are no poachers up here.”

She sighed. “Probably because the elephants stay in the water. If they shot them in there, they’d risk losing the ivory.” She looked over to the eastern shore and realized that the cache stood near the base under the protection of the volcano’s rocks. No, she thought, she couldn’t waste much time up here or there wouldn’t be any elephants left to lounge in the protective lake. “I don’t see Boguli. Let’s walk around the rim and see if we can spy on the poachers from up above.”

Grasses coated the crater’s inner edge, the forest rising up towards the outer rim and falling away down the slopes. Jade and Chiumbo kept just to the tree line, ready to duck behind cover if necessary, as they wended halfway around the crater to the eastern side. Jade had hoped to find an overlook from which to spy down on the poachers’ hideout below, but the treetops rising up from the slopes made that impossible.