Suddenly, my hand bumped into something slippery, a little larger than a football. It was smooth and pink. Something similar rolled up against my other hand. And another and another and many more bobbed along the bottom like deflated pinkish-white helium balloons with long ropy cords stretched over the surface.
For a second I thought they might be crab-trap buoys covered in rope. I waited for the surge to settle the sand after the most recent wave so I could see a little better through the murk.
As the sand cleared, something sharp poked against my arm. It looked like the ankle of a small animal whose paws had been cut off. There was another and another, four stiff hacked-off limbs to each shape. The place was littered with freshly skinned animals that had been tossed overboard—most likely the animals whose pelts I had just seen hanging inside the boat.
I shot to the surface, kicking my feet hard to accelerate as quickly as possible. When I burst through the silver surface of the water, I gasped for air, sucking in some water by accident. I coughed convulsively, trying to get rid of the disgusting water but also the image of all of those poor skinned creatures being washed around in the tide below.
I treaded water and tried to breathe slowly to regain my composure and quell the urge to swim to shore. The irrational side of me couldn’t help imagining that these freshly skinned bodies were going to wake up from their nightmarish limbo and try to pull me down and hold me on the bottom with them, their hacked-off limbs poking and pressing me into the sand.
Ling-Ru heard me struggling and called down. “Catherine, are you okay?”
I nodded. “Took in some water by accident.”
“You see anything?”
There was no need to tell her what I had just seen. I shook my head and took long, slow, and deep breaths to prime my lungs. I had made it halfway down the length of the boat. I’d have to do two more sweeps, one to reach the front of the boat, and one more to get as close to shore as possible. “I’m going to keep going next to the boat and a little farther inshore. Not sure how far the tide would have taken it.”
“Okay, well, we shouldn’t stay too much longer.”
“Two more tries.” I took a few more deep breaths and went down again. I worked my way toward the bow, machete rifling through the garbage and many more raccoon-like dead bodies as the water got sandier and sandier as it got shallower. Even more dead bodies had accumulated in the current just behind the surf break. I was covered in them bumping and poking into me from all sides.
Just when I thought there was no way I was going to find the pistol, the machete hit against a hard object. I waved the sand away to see Ling-Ru’s Glock. I grabbed it and kicked to the surface, holding it over my head triumphantly while pushing dead bodies away with the machete.
Ling-Ru saw me surface. “Amazing!”
I took a few deep breaths to recover. The boat was way too tall to scale the side. My only way out was to swim to shore about fifty yards away. “Meet you on the beach,” I yelled.
I swam awkwardly to the shoreline, both hands clutching a weapon. I dodged the broken glass that lined the high-water mark as best as I could and climbed out. I exchanged Ling-Ru’s Glock for my clothes.
“I can’t believe you found it.” Ling-Ru opened the clip and removed the water.
“It wasn’t easy.” I rubbed myself down with my shorts. “What was the name of the animal whose coats we saw on board?”
“Raccoon-dog—or Asian raccoon as they are called because people don’t like to think of wearing dog pelts. Why?”
“Are they actually canines?”
“Dogs, yes.” She rubbed my shoulders. “Why do you ask?”
“Just curious.” I still felt the sensation of many, many sharp ankle bones bumping up against me in the surf, all attached to semi-buoyant pinkish bodies, and wasn’t ready to share the repulsive experience with Ling-Ru.
“Come. We’ll get you a hot shower back at Li’s place.”
I looked at her pistol. “You think it will still fire?”
“My colleagues have dropped their firearms in the water from time to time during a bust. Should be okay. I’ll rinse it when we get back to Li’s.” She put a hand on my shoulder. “Thanks, Catherine. There was no way I was going in there.”
“I’ll feel a lot better having that with us. I have no idea how to read a tiger, much less a wounded, emaciated one.”
“I appreciate your courage all the more.”
“Do your colleagues have experience capturing a live tiger?”
“They’ll shoot it, I’m sure.”
“I was hoping you were going to say that they’d take it to a sanctuary.”
“That thing? Too dangerous.”
“They could always drug it, capture it, and take it to a safe place where it can recover.”
Ling-Ru shook her head. “It would most likely be sent to a farm where its paws and penis will eventually be harvested. Since you say it was a male, they’ll probably collect a few rounds of semen before doing it in.”
“Don’t you guys have control over that?”
“We’re customs, not an animal welfare organization. We can’t afford to think about that stuff, or we’d never make headway. We deal with contraband, which happens to include wild-animal parts. We don’t have the resources to work with living things. I couldn’t promise where it would end up. Safest thing would be to put it out of its misery before it kills someone for real.”
I nodded over to the makeshift grave as we started to leave. “Should we have a look?”
Ling-Ru assessed the pile of sand the size of a large human body and shook her head. “I’ll call that in. I don’t need to see another dead body right now. We need to get out of here.”
I kicked at the KONG tread marks in the sand. “What if someone returns to collect what’s in that boat and gets rid of the body? If your colleagues don’t get here in time, don’t you want to see who it is?”
Ling-Ru hung her shoulders. “You’re right.”
“Come. We’ll take some pictures.”
The sand around the body was still moist. A whole day of sun would have dried it out, so it had to be less than half a day old. Ling-Ru inspected several sets of human footprints, some with shoes, some barefoot, running over the ground near the grave. She drew her foot next to one of the sets of tracks. “These look like Jin Jin’s dinner guests. These same tread patterns were around the cooking fire outside his place.”
I took a stick and scraped around the head area, revealing a full head of golden-brown hair.
Ling-Ru recoiled. “What is that?”
I scratched over a large hairy ear that stood straight up. I dug around the head some more to reveal two large golden-brown furry ears.
We both looked up at each other and said the word at the same time, “Bear.” And then I added, “Grizzly bear.”
“Where would they get a grizzly bear?”
“Russia, probably.”
“The black grizzly, of course. Almost as big as a Kodiak bear.”
As we both dug on, a very emaciated but enormous brown bear took shape beneath the sand. Ling-Ru shook her head in disgust. “It’s skin and bones.”
“They don’t get fed much and are kept in a cage barely bigger than itself.” I poked around the ends of its limbs where the paws had been cut off. “The bear paws we found on the boat are probably his. This is exactly the kind of horrible condition a bear is in when it chews on its own paws.” I inspected the head and neck more closely and saw bite marks on its throat. “Look at this. It must have had a run-in with that tiger.”
“You’re right.” Ling-Ru dug around the middle of the body. “And look”—she cleared away clumps of blood-soaked sand—“there are two deep cuts on either side of the abdomen.”
“Bear bile,” I said with disgust. Bear farms were sprouting up all over China, some legal and some not, in order to harvest bear bile from live bears. “It must have died of complications from the run-in it had with the tiger and then so
meone did a little gall bladder extraction.” There was a metal tube sticking out of either side of the bear’s abdomen. “They collect the bile through stents attached to their gall bladder. The bear would have been much more valuable alive.”
“I’ve seen the pictures. This metal tubing is illegal, I know that. It’s something we’ve been able to crack down on in China and Korea. But in Russia, anything goes.”
I noticed fresh tiger tracks in the sand, closer to the bushes at the edge of the beach. I was always surprised to see how large the tracks of a big cat are, and because they have retractable claws, the round lobes of the pads without claw prints look more comical than threatening.
I went over to inspect the tracks. There were drips of blood between the front and back paws. A good amount of it. “Do you know if a tiger circles back on its hunter like a buffalo does?” I searched the vegetation high and low, quelling a wave of panic.
“I’m not sure. They do have a pretty nasty reputation with hunters.”
We both instinctively stood up and headed for the switchback trailhead. The tiger tracks told us that he had the same idea. Better to be behind it than in front.
“Let’s grab some sticks and hit the plants as we walk.” I picked up two sticks and handed one to Ling-Ru. “We need to make as much noise as possible. And we should talk loudly.” I started hitting the bushes with my stick and machete as we walked in order to make extra noise.
Ling-Ru followed my lead in hitting the bushes and looked at me nervously, clutching her Glock. “When I saw that mound, it reminded me of when my father used to bring us here for the dragon-boat races. The Soko Islands used to have refugee camps for the ethnic–Chinese Vietnamese boat people. Hong Kong didn’t know what to do with them, so they refused to accept them.”
I nodded along as we gained elevation. Both of us checked our cellphones again, and again no reception.
“Damn it.” I put my phone back in my pocket and inspected the tracks again. “Look, it’s faltering,” I said, pointing to a smeared track. “It’s dragging its feet.”
Ling-Ru pointed to a small island in the distance and continued her story in a shaky tone. “Tai A Chau over there was one of the detention camps. There were something like fifty thousand Vietnamese. We’d take the ferry over to some of the other islands on a weekend. We’d see dead bodies buried in the sand all the time.”
“Are you making this up?” I looked down through the bushes to see if I could see anything crouching, waiting to ambush us.
“No, you told me to keep talking so I’m telling you what it was like.”
I analyzed a very large tiger print in the middle of the trail, and there was a noise in the bushes. We both swung our heads around and looked in the direction of leaves crunching and scuffling in the undergrowth. Ling-Ru aimed her pistol at the movement within the thick vegetation.
We both screeched and jumped sideways as a giant rat scurried in front of our feet and disappeared into the vegetation on the other side of the trail. We laughed nervously, relieved that we hadn’t found ourselves face-to-face with a tiger—or a killer.
“There isn’t another way up this ridge, is there?”
Ling-Ru shook her head as she scanned the tree line. “Tigers can climb trees, can’t they?”
“Yes, but let’s not think about that.” One of Craig’s videos of a tiger farm showed a tiger effortlessly scaling a palm tree to obtain a treat.
“Maybe it’s too weak to climb?”
“It climbed the dock. And it had the opportunity to eat if it wanted to.”
“Then it shouldn’t be hungry for a while, right?”
“Jin Jin didn’t look like much of a meal.”
“True.”
Ling-Ru’s story was helping to distract me, so I encouraged her to continue. “How was your family allowed across the border back then?”
“My dad would come over for meetings to prepare for Hong Kong being returned to China. They happened to be timed with the dragon-boat races.”
“They let him bring the family?”
“Surprising, I know. In retrospect, I think they were trying to make him feel special. They did that to all the major officials. That’s how they got them to do their bidding—with the promise of a life outside what was happening to everyone else. A legacy of Chairman Mao.”
I monitored the leaves along the trail for signs of blood that would have brushed off as the tiger passed and noticed two small zigzag patterns ahead of a paw print. This new pattern hadn’t been there before.
I pointed to the small oblong print in front of the tiger spoor. “What do you think this is?” As soon as these words left my mouth, I remembered the child’s shoe at Jin Jin’s place. “Ling-Ru, Jin Jin has a grandson, right?”
She studied the tracks. “Two of them. You saw the older one last night.”
I started running. “Come on.”
Tiger’s Tale
We rounded two more switchbacks and it was clear from the tracks that the tiger was stalking two children, but it was slowing down, given evidence of his dragging paws. But he could still easily kill a child, even in his condition. We had to warn them.
I held out my hand for the gun. “Here, why don’t you let me carry that? I know you’re not crazy about wildlife.”
Ling-Ru handed me her firearm in exchange for the machete. “Seriously, are you afraid of anything?”
“I do better with wounded wild animals than humans.” I looked around the trail and up into the trees. “Can you call to them? Tell them to climb a tree.”
“But tigers can climb.”
“Better than facing it on the ground head-on where they’d have no chance.”
Ling-Ru called out in Cantonese, “Ying Ying?” She took a breath. “Fong? If you can hear me, climb up a tree. We are coming up the path and will pick you up.”
We stood still, listening for a response.
In the silence, I suddenly became aware of the ambient noises and realized how beautiful the birdcalls were. And the calls were increasing in volume, as if a flock of parrots were sitting in a tree up ahead. If the boys had called back, it would have been hard to hear them.
All I could hope was that they were blissfully unaware of what was behind them and they thought it would be fun to climb a tree.
“Ying Ying? Fong?”
All we could hear was the wind through the trees and more parrots.
“Come on, we need to catch the tiger before he catches up with them.”
We started jogging up the next switchback. The tiger tracks were becoming more weighted. The back legs were now starting to drag. There was a consistent trail of blood between prints, dripping at a more rapid rate.
We heard a giggle up ahead. And then another giggle and a squeal.
“Ying Ying?” Ling-Ru called out. “Is that you?” she said in Cantonese.
More giggling made us break into a run.
“Ying Ying? Fong?” Ling-Ru called out as we ran. We could hear a small branch snapping up on the next switchback. And then the sound of one trying to keep the other one silent with a shhhhhh.
“Do you think that’s them?” I asked, hoping the noise we just heard was the noise of two boys climbing a tree, and not a tiger climbing a tree after two small boys. The fact that we were still hearing happy noises was a good sign.
“Hope so.”
We were in a flat-out run now, knowing that every second counted. In one quick swipe, a boy could be dead. We had to get there in time.
We rounded the next switchback, and as we gained in elevation, we could see two boys halfway up a tree, looking down into the bush just off the trail.
“Ying Ying, Fong, stay where you are!” Ling-Ru panted as we approached the tree. I surveyed the tiger tracks and saw where they stumbled off into the bush next to the tree.
One of the boys pointed in the direction of the tiger’s footprints.
I pulled out the pistol from my waistband and followed the tracks.
L
ing-Ru signaled for the boys to be quiet.
I stepped into the bush, following the trail of blood-streaked flattened grass. I popped the clip out and reloaded it. I knew there was one in the chamber, but we should have fired it after retrieving it from the water to make sure that the first shot would fire. I was prepared to shoot in rapid succession just in case.
I followed the tiger’s trajectory, where the tall grass met the tree line. Either it was waiting in ambush, or it was lying in the grass between myself and the tree line, I couldn’t tell which, but I could see the end of the trail. I gripped the pistol in both hands and stepped forward as slowly as I could, attempting to make as little noise as possible.
I could hear a slight noise, like the gasping of breath. And maybe a snarl. As I came upon the tiger, it didn’t flinch. It was panting heavily, holding his head just above the ground. I could see the deep gashes along the shoulders and down the sides—gashes that I assumed were incurred during his encounter with the grizzly.
This once-majestic Bengal tiger was now reduced to skin and bones and barely alive. I watched his head lower. His breathing slowed until it took one last breath and then lay still. I crept closer, clutching my gun, to make sure it wasn’t moving. I stood nearby and stared at its rib cage, making sure that the rise and fall had stopped completely. This glorious orange-and-black creature of the jungle had seemed more fantastical than real, but now was dead.
I lowered my firearm and sat down. I waited a few more minutes just to be sure before calling Ling-Ru. “Ling-Ru?”
“Are you okay?” she called back.
“It’s dead.”
I could hear some rustling noises as the boys were called down from their limb in the tree. Three different footfall patterns approached at a clip and stopped short. They looked on at the tiger in awe.
One of the boys whispered, “Grandpa Jin Jin say climb tree when trouble. We saw tiger and climb tree.”
Ling-Ru sat next to me as the boys went running off to find their father to share what was probably the most exciting story of their lives.
“Thanks, Catherine.” Ling-Ru put her arm around me.
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