Stalking Ivory (2 page)

“As long as you have your priorities all squared away, love,” cooed Beverly. “I’m famished,” she added to change the subject. “Are you about ready to head back to camp?”

Jade shook her head in disbelief. “Your appetite is amazing. How can you think about food when we’re being shot at?” Back when the pair had transported French wounded from the front lines, Bev had reacted to the stress of shellfire by focusing on something distant and pleasant rather than the falling artillery. After trying unsuccessfully to think about pretty scenery or parties, she had focused on favorite foods. Apparently, thought Jade, she still did.

“Oh, I’m sure it was an accident and they’re probably gone by now, anyway,” Bev said. “I want to eat.”

“I haven’t rechecked all my connections. All that shaking from you two might have jarred something out of alignment. Give me another fifteen minutes.” The Dunburys waited patiently while Jade reexamined every wire.
Blasted poachers!
She shrugged off her annoyance and concentrated on readjusting the camera’s focus. Finally she couldn’t find anything else to adjust and agreed to leave. The trio climbed down Jade’s rope ladder one at a time, Avery first, followed by Beverly and Jade.

Beverly’s stomach growled and she patted it as though it were an entity that needed to be appeased. “It will take us at least an hour to walk back. I wish there was some way to get there more quickly.”

Jade opened her day pack and took out a handful of figs. “Chew on these, Bev. They should tide you over.”

Avery reached behind and patted the book lying in his pack. “That Tarzan chap covered ground quickly by swinging from tree to tree.” He looked up at the forest surrounding him. “Right. Well, he certainly did not live around here. I don’t see any vines up there that would support a grown man’s weight.”

“He must have ‘hung around’ some other part of Africa,” Jade said. “That was a joke, by the way.” She scanned the trees for her blaze, a shallow
V
carved into the bark, which marked the route back to camp along the myriad game trails.

“I’m not sure how anyone managed safaris before trucks,” Avery said. “But then I don’t suppose they attempted to haul around an entire photo lab with them like you, Jade.”

Beverly’s stomach growled again, this time loudly enough that Jade turned to stare at her. “Better stop that, Bev. I thought some wild beast was stalking us.”

“I told you I was famished and I meant it. I want to devour an entire roasted bustard. We shot five of the ugly birds this morning. I should be allowed a whole one for myself.”

“Hear, hear,” echoed her devoted husband. “And since we had the foresight to send back most of the men to Isiolo once they unloaded the supplies, we don’t have nearly the number of mouths to provide for now.”

“True,” Jade added. “At least we’re not eating those horrid Grant’s gazelles. Blasted things are too wormy. You have to char the meat to make it edible. But if you eat an entire bustard, Bev, we’ll need those men to come back and carry
you
home.” She looked her friend over. “Your appetite is amazing.”

Beverly stuck out her tongue. “Be careful what you say, missy, or I’ll tell Madeline and she’ll put it all down in a second book about you.”

“That’s blackmail, Bev. Madeline’s in enough hot water already for making up some silly, overromanticized tripe about me.” Jade had become friends with coffee farmers Madeline and Neville Thompson last year, and Madeline had been with them in Tsavo. If Jade had known the woman would tell the entire world her darkest fears in a novel that was about to be published, she’d have left her at the station in Nairobi.

Beverly laughed, her voice rippling like dancing water. “As I recall, Jade, getting her to write a book was your idea.”

“But
not
,” said Jade, “about me.
That
was
your
doing. And I never said ‘Eat my bullets!’ to anyone. I should have burned the blasted manuscript when she first showed it to me.”

“Well, I thought it was romantic,” said Beverly. “She gave me the carbon paper copy, you know.”

“Now, ladies, I really think that sort of thing needs to stop,” suggested Avery when he saw Jade’s eyes flash in a cold green fire. “You didn’t finish telling us about that elk, Jade,” he reminded her. “You left off when the beast kicked in the fence.”

“Right. So this bull elk kicked in the fence and got in with one of our horses, only the horse didn’t want anything to do with this hooved lothario. Just as the elk started making his amorous advances, that horse bolted clean through the break in the fence and ran off.”

She paused again to read the trail blazes and chose a narrower path off the larger elephant trail. “He didn’t appear to want to come home, either, so we sent our border collie, Scout, to herd him. Now, the dog chased the horse back, but not before Scout visited the neighbor’s—” Jade stopped abruptly and cocked her head to one side, listening. A faint wheeze reached her ears, as though something large labored to breathe.

“It’s over there,” she said, and pointed off in the direction of the original elephant trail. The three of them ran back up the narrower path, then walked cautiously along the larger trail, eyes and ears alert to danger. The labored breath grew louder and more irregular, and the metallic smell of blood permeated the air. As they approached, the wheezing stopped with a shuddering sigh. Jade and her companions stepped into a small clearing.

“Oh, hell!” Jade swore.

Four giant gray corpses littered the ground. The tusks of each one of the slaughtered elephants had been sawed off. Their thick hides bristled with arrows, and opportunistic flies buzzed around, laying eggs in open wounds, a lot of wounds. A broken arrow shaft protruded from one female’s gut and a ragged hole yawned where her left eye used to be.

“Merciful heavens,” muttered Beverly. She immediately turned her head to retch.

“None of the arrows are in a fatal spot,” observed Avery. “It looks like they must have used poison on the arrows to incapacitate them. Then they shot them up close with a rifle to finish them off.” He looked at Jade for confirmation and shuddered.

Jade’s exotic, olive-colored face had frozen into a stony mask. Avery followed her gaze and tensed. Beverly turned back, wiping her mouth with a kerchief. She saw Jade’s face at the same time and started to go to her friend. Avery put out an arm to restrain her and shook his head. When Jade looked like that, it was the better part of valor to stay out of her way.

In between Jade and the Dunburys lay one of the elephant cows, blood dribbling from her side and open mouth. Rough stumps appeared where her tusks had been. The sight was horrid enough, but Jade’s gaze was fixed on what lay behind her.

“It’s worse!” she whispered. “They killed her baby, too.”

Beverly broke past her husband and ran around to her friend.

“This is the same baby and mother we saw trailing the group today,” Jade said. She bent and inspected the infant’s mouth. Her voice broke in a low, husky tone. “The bastards actually killed the calf for its baby ivory.”

“They didn’t just kill elephants,” said Avery. “There’s a man over here.” He pointed towards a collapsed body dressed in a bloody blue uniform shirt and shorts lying in a clump of olive trees. “Looks like an askari, a soldier in the King’s African Rifles, judging by the uniform. Probably caught the poachers in the act.”

Jade stepped around the elephants and squatted down near the body. He was on his knees, his upper torso bent over until his face touched the ground like a Muhammadan in prayer. His red fez lay beside him, and a small red hole marked the back of his head. Two arrow shafts protruded from underneath him. “Help me lay him out, Avery.”

Gently they turned the man over and straightened his legs. The arrows had penetrated the man’s gut, but were probably not the immediate cause of death. Jade heard Beverly gasp. “Maybe you should wait by the trail, Bev,” Jade said gently.

“No. I’ll be all right. I want to help.” Beverly stepped closer and shuddered when she saw the extent of his wounds. “He faced his attackers to begin with,” she said, her voice quavering.

Jade knew that her friend, who’d seen worse during their ambulance-driving days of the war, was trying to maintain a grip on reason by voicing her thoughts aloud. Jade pointed to two indentations on the ground. “Looks like he fell to his knees here after being shot in the gut with arrows. Someone must have come up from behind and shot him in the head, execution-style.”

“Judging by how much of his face is missing, he was shot at close range with a pistol,” added Avery.

“Savages,” said Beverly softly. Avery placed his own pocket handkerchief over the African’s face and went to comfort his wife.

Jade’s gaze swept the ground, looking for telltale signs left by the killers, but the earth was too trampled for her to make out any footprints. Something metallic glinted through the underbrush and she retrieved a spent cartridge from an elephant gun. She slipped it into her pants pocket.

Suddenly one cow’s huge frame shuddered as she struggled to take in a final breath. Her lungs wheezed as air leaked from them.

“And those bastards didn’t even finish the job,” Jade said. She rose and stood rigid, feet apart, her face once again a stony mask. The cow’s labored breath rattled, and more blood dribbled from her open mouth. “Hand me your Mannlicher, Avery. I doubt my Winchester could penetrate her skull.”

Avery shook his head. “I’ll finish the job, Jade.” He gently released his wife and stepped back to Jade and the dying cow. Taking careful aim, he shouldered his weapon and fired a round into the elephant’s brain. The wheezing stopped.

Jade’s rage remained. She took a silent oath to find the bastards who’d done this and make them pay.

“W
E CAN’T JUST
leave him here,” said Beverly.

“We’ll have to for a short time, darling,” replied Avery. “We have neither a shovel to bury him nor anything to carry him back on.” He placed his hands gently on his wife’s shoulders and held her. “If you and Jade go back to camp, Jade can return with a few of the men and a blanket. I’ll stay and guard the body.”

“Jade?” Beverly called to her friend. “Is that all right with you?”

Jade held up her hand for silence and cocked her head to listen. “Someone’s coming.”

“Someone or something?” whispered Avery.

“A human, not an animal.” She listened a moment longer and amended her statement with two upraised fingers to indicate two humans.

Avery pulled back the bolt on his Mannlicher. “If it’s the poachers,” he whispered, “they’re going to find a welcoming committee.”

They formed a defensive triangle in case someone else was sneaking up from behind, crouched and waited, rifles ready. The sound of bipeds walking along the trail grew louder. Jade assumed whoever it was would not know they were there, and decided to alert them before that someone became startled and fired in panic.

“Halt and identify yourself before we shoot,” she called.

The footsteps immediately stopped. After a moment’s hesitation, a decidedly male British voice replied, “Captain Barnaby Smythe of the King’s African Rifle patrol.”

Jade relaxed her grip on her Winchester and held it across her chest as she rose. Soon Smythe appeared, followed by one native askari. Jade took in the features of both. The captain stood about five feet, ten inches, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. His field hat, a solar topee clamped tightly on his head, hid his hair, but his thin brown mustache indicated the color. The native soldier traveling with him remained a few feet behind his superior officer, black skin melting into the forest’s gloom. Only the red fez atop his head stood out.

Avery took the initiative and held out his hand. “Lord Avery Dunbury at your service, Captain.” He shook the other man’s hand. “This is my wife, Lady Dunbury, and our friend Miss Jade del Cameron.”

“Surprised to see anyone on this trail,” Smythe said. “Where are your gun bearers?”

“We’re our own bearers today, Captain,” Jade answered.

Smythe’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “An American. Well, I should warn you all that you are in dangerous territory.”

“We’re aware of the elephants, Captain,” Jade said.

“I’m not referring to the elephants, Miss—er, what was your name again?”

“Del Cameron.”

“Ah yes. I’ve heard of you. Some hyena trouble down in Tsavo, as I recall. Well, you’re in frontier territory and a bit too close to Abyssinia for your own good.”

“We’re nearly a hundred miles away,” Beverly said.

“And that’s a hundred twenty miles too close. Don’t think for a moment that being in the Protectorate is any protection here. We’re far too short staffed to patrol the entire border, and raiders have been making forays both here and to the west more frequently. I just sent part of my patrol back to Isiolo with several captives. The whole bloody thing’s gone wild since Emperor Menelik died several years ago.” He looked past them at the slaughtered elephants, as though he had just now noticed the carcasses. “I heard a shot recently. Is this your doing? Where are your permits?”

“We didn’t shoot them,” replied Jade. “We’re photographing elephants, not killing them. We stumbled on this.” She pointed to the cow that Avery had shot as a mercy killing. “This cow was left to bleed to death. What you heard was Lord Dunbury putting her down.” Jade handed Smythe the spent cartridge she’d pocketed. “I found this. As you can see, it doesn’t match anything we’re carrying.”

Smythe nodded and surveyed the carnage. “Poachers.”

“Murderers, too,” added Jade. “You should see this.” She led the way to the dead man and watched while Smythe examined the body. “One of yours?” she asked.

Smythe nodded. “Too much of his face is missing to be sure, but judging by the build and height, I think I know who it is. New recruit, very gung ho sort of lad.” He looked up at Avery and directed his questions to him. “You say you found him like this? Did you see anyone else?”

“We found him kneeling on the ground, shot in the back of the head.” He pointed to the knee marks next to the body. “There was no one else around.”

“So you moved the body.” Smythe’s tone was accusatory.

“It seemed disrespectful to the man to leave him in that demeaning, groveling position,” replied Beverly.

“It looks like an execution,” said Jade, bringing the conversation back to the crime.

Smythe nodded. “Probably caught the poachers in the act.”

“So these Abyssinian raiders you spoke of are poaching ivory?” Avery asked.

“Mostly, at least around here. But slave raiding has increased as well.”

“And why would that be?” Jade asked, her voice snappish. Smythe had all but dismissed her, which irritated her to no end.

“Their entire system is feudal, Miss del Cameron. The emperor hands over the government of the various regions to his appointees and demands tribute from them all. But once the old emperor dies, all the governors know they’ll be replaced. So they take everything they can get and head out. That means the new regional lord has to raid and pillage to get enough goods for tribute or until he can manage to capture enough slaves to plant his fields. Others sell the slaves to North Africa, where they fetch a good price. Sometimes it takes years for them to accumulate their own wealth.”

“And you’re suggesting that we’re in danger of being taken for slaves?” asked Jade.

“No!” he retorted. “I’m suggesting you might get in their way and be shot.”

Jade and the Dunburys exchanged glances. “That might explain that stray bullet today,” Beverly suggested.

“Someone shot at you today?” Smythe asked.

“If they did, they had bad aim,” Jade replied. “More than likely it was a shot gone wild. Perhaps your man startled them in the act.”

“Well, chances are it was a warning shot,” Smythe concluded. “You should take the hint and move on farther south.”

“I’m not moving anywhere unless the elephants move, and as I understand it, they won’t leave until the big rains begin,” replied Jade. “I came here to photograph them and I hit the mother lode. But we’ll keep watch for more than wild animals now.”

“I should hope that this would prove to you just how dangerous it is for you to remain here, miss,” said Smythe.

Jade considered the officer for a moment before she added, “Isn’t it dangerous for
you
to be out here with only one man backing you up?” She nodded to the lone askari standing in the shadows.

Smythe scowled, planted his feet farther apart, and thrust out his chin. “See here, young woman. I cannot guarantee your protection if you remain. We have a lot of territory to patrol and I’m stretched far too thinly as it is. It takes weeks, months as it were, to canvass it. I left a small contingency under Lieutenant Fitzpatrick near Isiolo, but most of my company is patrolling the Somalian border. As their captain, I need to join them, so my small reconnaissance here must end as soon as I bury this chap.” He looked beyond her to Avery. “Lord Dunbury, I leave it to you to take charge of this matter and get these women out of here. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll find the rest of my men and take care of the body.”

Avery bowed slightly in a manner that could mean anything from acquiescence to merely acknowledging his suggestion.

Jade watched Smythe march down the game trail, his lone askari tailing him. “Most curious, he didn’t really answer my question.”

“Probably felt it was impertinent,” said Avery. “After all, he is an officer in the African Rifles. I suspect he’s immune from attack. A uniform does frighten many of the locals.”

“It didn’t help this poor man,” Jade said as she nodded to the slain soldier. “Are they really spread that thinly?”

“The Rifles went through a reorganization after the war,” said Avery. “I believe there really is only one regiment for the entire northern frontier, but I honestly don’t know how many companies it has. Most of these askaris saw hard service during the war. Officers, too. I’m sure it took a terrible toll on their numbers.”

As they resumed their trek back to camp in silence, Jade wondered if Avery would insist on removing Beverly from danger. They also knew that Blaney Percival wanted a report on poaching, but the danger hadn’t seemed real to them before. Plus, she had an article for
The Traveler
to research, and only a month to do it before the rains set in. In any event, Jade didn’t plan to move on, but considering they each had a share in the supplies, she couldn’t very well stay on without the Dunburys or insist that they leave much of the stores behind for her. Then again, Beverly had never run from danger during the war.

Jade smiled to herself as she recalled some of their escapades during their ambulance-driving stint with the Hackett-Lowther unit. As one of the few women’s units allowed near the front lines, they’d had many close calls driving the wounded during air raids and shellings. No, Beverly hadn’t run from the Germans’ “Big Bertha.” She wouldn’t run from a few armed raiders.

Jade led the way through the ancient forest along antiquated trails formed by untold generations of elephants. Mount Marsabit was actually a chain of volcanic craters, and their camp lay on the western side of one crater, Gof Sokorte Guda, which housed a beautiful lake. During the dry seasons, the elephants and other wildlife clustered around the large lake and the smaller ones that circled it like ladies-in-waiting surrounding the queen. The entire mountain chain existed as a green jewel amid the blazing deserts.

Jade took her eyes from the trail for a moment and spared a glance for the massive trees around them as they walked. Some of them sported buttresses; others, like the rarer figs, were stranglers that took hold of a smaller tree and gradually covered it, leaving a hollow core under a latticework of growth. Silver-green moss draped all the trees, and blue butterflies adorned them like living ornaments.
Sweet Saint Peter’s little fishes, but it’s beautiful!

The forest maintained a cathedral-like silence during much of the day, while the elephants lounged in the pools or enjoyed dust baths elsewhere. At night, though, Jade knew it would come alive with the tremendous cracking of branches when the elephants fed.
All but four cows and one baby,
she thought,
and one poor soldier who won’t sit down to evening mess with his comrades.
She gritted her teeth, finding it hard to accept so much death and mutilation in this stunning landscape.

Less than a quarter mile from their base camp, Jade stopped and held up a hand to signal an immediate halt. Then she put one finger to her lips for absolute silence. After turning her head to the side and listening, she pointed to the trail ahead. She mouthed the word “animal” and held out her hand, waist high, to indicate its general size.

Avery glanced at his wife and pointed to her stomach. Beverly shook her head to say that whatever Jade heard, it wasn’t another stomach growl. Avery shrugged. Neither of them had heard anything, but both trusted Jade’s instincts. They knew leopards were nocturnal and lions rare in this isolated sanctuary, but they raised their rifles in preparation for anything. Jade continued to stare into the brush ahead and listen.

Light filtering though the treetops teased them with patches of visibility like a game of peekaboo. Jade knew that any predator’s vision in low light would be better than hers. She watched instead for small movements indicating an ear twitch or the quivering of hindquarters, and listened for the slightest brushing of foliage.

Gradually she filtered out the surrounding noises of their breathing and her heartbeat and concentrated on a very subtle sliding noise, as if something small was being dragged along the forest floor. A soft chirp followed.

The faintest trace of a smile twitched Jade’s lips just before she whistled one sharp answering chirp. Immediately a sleek spotted cat bounded out of the woods and slapped at Jade’s legs.

“Biscuit, what the thundering blazes are you doing here?”

The slender cheetah butted his head against Jade’s thigh and chirped again. Avery and Bev lowered their rifles and released audible sighs of relief. “I might have shot him,” muttered Avery.

Jade stroked the exotic cat’s head and back. Biscuit responded by flopping onto the ground and rolling on his back like a giant domestic tabby. Jade chuckled and obliged the cat by rubbing his muscular tummy.

“We weren’t in any real danger, Avery, darling,” Beverly said. “Jade’s knee didn’t hurt.”

Jade glanced up at her friend. “My shrapnel wound only hurts when it’s going to rain, Bev.”

“
And
when something is trying to kill one of us. At least that’s what you told me back in Tsavo.”

“That’s impossible, and you know it,” muttered Jade. She stifled her irritation and picked up the broken lead dangling from Biscuit’s collar. “Hmmm. That explains how he got away from Jelani. He snapped his tether.”

“Don’t be angry with the lad,” Beverly pleaded. “He’s just a boy.”