Stalking Ivory

by Suzanne Arruda

  Beverly shook her head rapidly. “No! It sounds awful.” Then she quickly added, “But you did very well to read it on your own.”

  Jelani shrugged, not understanding her distaste. “He was a brave animal, but I still like Bwana Avery’s books better.”

  “You little scamp,” Avery said in mock anger. “Have you been reading my Tarzan novels?” He jumped up from his seat on a wooden chop box and grabbed the boy.

  Jelani laughed as the tall blond man tickled him around the ribs. Biscuit joined in by rearing up and swatting Avery on the backside. Avery lost his balance and collapsed onto the ground as Jelani and the slender cat pounced on top of him.

  “All right, all right,” Avery called out between laughs. “You win. No fair, two against one.”

  The boy and the cheetah desisted, and Avery scrambled to his feet and brushed off his trousers. “Tarzan wouldn’t have stood for that sort of rowdiness.”

  “Tarzan spoke a strange language,” Jelani said.

  “Ah, you mean Mangani,” Jade replied. “That’s supposed to be the language of the great apes.”

  “Do these apes really speak?”

  Jade shook her head. “I’m sure they make some calls to each other, but Mangani is something that the author made up. Much,” she added with a sidewise glance at Beverly, “like Memsabu Madeline did in her book.”

  “She didn’t make anything up,” protested Beverly.

  “Right. And just when did I ever say to a lion, and I quote, ‘You can go back and tell your witch master that I’m not afraid of you or him’?”

  “I don’t care what you say,” replied Bev with a sniff. “Stalking Death is a wonderful book and very true to life. And Madeline is rather like your own personal Dr. Watson, dramatizing your adventures. It will be a tremendous smash. She’s already sent it off to her London publisher.”

  “I say,” said Avery in a gallant attempt to redirect the conversation, “since we’re all reading those Tarzan books, we should learn Mangani and speak it ourselves. Sort of a private code. Won’t that be fun?”

  “I will make a list of words,” Jelani said. “I will look through all of Bwana Avery’s books.” He stopped and glanced up at Avery, a look of hopeful anticipation welling in his large brown eyes.

  Avery couldn’t resist. “Yes, you may make a list from my books.” He rubbed the boy’s short black hair. “I’m pleased to see you enjoy reading so much.”

  “It is a good idea, Jelani,” added Jade. “That way you can also practice your writing.” She noticed the sudden frown. “Yes, I know you don’t enjoy that nearly as much as reading, but it’s also important.”

  Jelani stuck out his lower lip and pouted like any youngster being told what to do. “I am going to read my story to Chiumbo,” he said, indicating their headman. “He likes my stories.”

  The boy patted his leg as a signal for Biscuit to follow, but the cat opted to stay at Jade’s feet.

  “That’s fine, Jelani,” said Jade, “but remember your proper bedtime tonight. I’ll send Biscuit to guard you later.”

  Jelani made a face when Jade mentioned bedtime, but didn’t argue the point. Instead, he wandered off, looking for the safari’s headman.

  “He’s a good little chap,” Beverly noted as the boy left. “It’s very good, what you’re doing for him.”

  Jade shrugged. “I’m not doing all that much, but I agree, he is good.” She poked a stick into the fire and stirred up the wood. The fire burned more brightly after she opened up another air passage. A safe distance away, the evening noises started with a tree limb’s prolonged groaning, followed by a sharp crack as the branch broke under some elephant’s persistent pull. “He has only an old mother and father, no siblings. It’s the least one can do.” She tossed the stick into the fire and added three bigger chunks of wood. “Besides, Biscuit needed a keeper.”

  “Now, don’t try to disclaim any interest in the boy, Jade,” scolded Beverly. “I know you too well for that. You like him and you needed something to give you a purpose in life. There’s no shame in caring for someone, you know.” She frowned and shook her head, causing her soft corn silk curls to shimmer in the firelight. “You’ve been a lost soul, Jade. I thought you’d snap out of it once you found David’s brother, but you haven’t.”

  At the mention of her deceased fiancé’s name, Jade unconsciously reached for his ring, which she wore around her neck as a talisman. British pilot David Worthy had been her sweetheart during the war until his plane crashed in a dogfight in which he had defended her and the evac hospital. He died in her arms, pressing this same ring into her hands with the request that she use it to find his brother. That search had brought her to East Africa and to Jelani.

  Beverly watched her friend and scowled. “Heavens, if anyone needs a keeper, it’s not Biscuit—it’s you!” She pressed her point despite all of Jade’s warning looks. “Avery and I won’t be able to follow after you forever, you know.”

  “No one is asking you to,” snapped Jade.

  Beverly ignored her and continued. “It’s high time you quit traipsing all over the continent and settled down with some nice man who can watch over you.” She glanced at her husband for support. “Right, darling?”

  Avery decided that discretion was the better part of valor and kept his mouth shut, pretending to be fascinated by his boots.

  Jade picked up a stout stick and hurled it into the fire. “I don’t need a blasted keeper!” She rose to her feet and glared at Beverly. “So if you have any more plans about setting me up, you can just forget it. Both you and Maddy were determined that I should marry that louse Hascombe last year, so I don’t put a great deal of stock in your matchmaking abilities.”

  Just then a deep baritone voice sang out from the edge of the forest. “There’s my bright beauty.”

  Jade turned and looked straight into the face of Harry Hascombe. “Spit fire and save the matches! It’s you.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Elephants live in a tightly knit society, dominated by one of the older cows whose accumulated wisdom allows her to recognize danger and lead her charges safely to and from water and food.

  —The Traveler

  FOR THE THIRD TIME that day, Jade seriously wrestled with the idea of punching someone in the face. Before, when no actual target stood before her, she’d gained control more quickly, but this time, her target loomed large. Her right hand clenched into a fist, itching to connect with that smug smile. Just give me one good provocation.

  “What the devil are you doing here, Hascombe?” she demanded. “I thought I saw the last of your lying, vermin-ridden hide after we hauled you back from Tsavo.”

  “Nice to see you, too, Jade.” His gaze ran over her slender figure. “You’re looking particularly fine as always.”

  Avery rose and extended a hand towards their visitor, effectively blocking Jade’s chances of landing a punch. “Hascombe,” he said.

  “Dunbury,” replied Harry as he shook the young lord’s hand. “Lady Dunbury,” he added as he nodded to Beverly.

  She smiled and nodded in return. “I’m glad to see that your broken leg mended so well, Harry.”

  “Thank you,” he replied. “Kind of you to notice.”

  Biscuit rose, stretched, and padded softly over to his former master. If Jade hoped the big cat would take a bite out of Harry, he didn’t. Instead he sniffed Harry’s trousers, then chirped a greeting. Harry put out a rough hand and stroked the cheetah’s head. “And how’s my bright beauty?” he asked the cat. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

  Jade decided that hitting the man wouldn’t do much good anyway and sat back down on the chop box she’d been using for a seat. She made a point of not offering a chair or a box to Harry. “He’s with me.”

  Harry looked around for another of the wooden crates and pulled it up to the fire. “I can see that.” He sat down and leaned his rifle against his leg. “What I want to know is why. I distinctly remember leaving him with that cof
fee farmer, Thompson, and his wife.”

  “He kept running after Jade,” Beverly said. “It was the most amazing sight. Once, he actually followed the scent of her Ford all the way into town to the Norfolk Hotel. When he arrived, he slipped right past the boys out front, went straight through the lobby, and trotted on up to her room just as if he owned the place. And another time he followed her into a party at the Muthaiga Club. That drunken trollop Cissy Estes screamed and stood on a table. That is, before she passed out on it.”

  “The devil you say.” Harry shook his head. “Biscuit was fond of my man Ruta, but I never knew him to act that way even around him.”

  “He also likes Jelani, the Kikuyu boy who is traveling with us,” added Avery.

  Harry appeared not to hear the last remark. Instead he riveted his gaze on Jade. “You’re a very remarkable woman, Jade, but then I already knew that.”

  She returned his stare. Her green eyes, for which her father had named her, bored right into Harry’s. Very few people could win a staring contest with her, and Harry didn’t bother to try. He glanced back at the Dunburys. “Well, at least I know Biscuit’s in good hands.”

  “What are you doing here, Hascombe?” Jade repeated. Her gaze never left his face as she watched for any telltale sign of deception.

  Harry stewed a moment under her scrutiny, fidgeting on his box seat. “I’m leading a bloody damned safari, if you must know,” he finally bellowed.

  “You don’t need to shout, Hascombe. I can hear you.”

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “It’s just that…” He shifted some more. “You could try the patience of a saint.”

  “I think Harry would have appreciated a more cordial greeting, Jade,” said Beverly. “You’ve hurt his feelings.”

  “Right,” said Harry. He slapped his leg for emphasis. “Instead I get a bloody interrogation. You used to be friendlier to me, Jade. You even danced with me once, remember?”

  For a moment, a memory of that evening jumped, unbidden, to Jade’s mind. She saw Harry, looking very handsome in evening kit. More than the image, she remembered his musky male scent and felt his strong arm around her waist, and the smooth grace with which he led her across the floor in a waltz. She shook the thought away. “I remember. I have an excellent memory. So you’re here leading a safari.” As she said it, Jade arched her brows and looked past his shoulder into the woods, as if she expected to see an army of porters and hunters materialize in front of her, a tacit implication that she didn’t believe him.

  Harry caught the drift of her unspoken query. “Of course they’re not here,” he said. “I left them at my camp.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder to the northeast. “About three miles that way. There’s a smaller crater there, a seasonal lake. Unfortunately, it’s nearly dry now, so the elephants have abandoned it.”

  “I say, I don’t mean to criticize. I’m sure you know what you’re doing and all, but was that wise to leave them?” asked Avery. “Your people, I mean.”

  “They’re perfectly safe. I’ve got a damn fine headman with them. Name’s Nakuru. He’s from Tanganyika. Best headmen come from there.”

  Lord Dunbury nodded. “Yes, our man is Chiumbo. He’s a Nyamwezi tribesman, I believe.”

  Harry’s eyes widened in recognition. “I’ve heard of him. They say Roosevelt tried to get him, but he was already engaged.”

  Avery nodded. “That’s the man.”

  “You should feel honored to have him. He’s very particular about who he works for, a matter of honor. But I’m surprised to see all of you up here.” Harry nodded in Jade’s direction. “What’s Simba Jike got you into this time?”

  “Jade’s photographing elephants,” Avery said.

  “Very exciting!” added Beverly. She looked across to her friend and shuddered when she observed Jade’s mouth set in a severe line with obvious loathing radiating from her every pore. “Um, Jade, darling. Might we show Harry some of your photographs?”

  Jade answered in a subdued rumble. “I’m sure Mr. Hascombe is too anxious to return to his people to stay and look at photographs. We don’t have a spare tent for him and he won’t want to be wandering around the trails once it gets dark.”

  Harry retrieved his rifle and stood. “I believe that is what is now termed a ‘bum’s rush.’”

  “If the shoe fits,” Jade muttered.

  Harry took a deep breath, touched the brim of his hat, and nodded to the Dunburys. “Lord Dunbury, Lady Dunbury, always a pleasure. Drop by my camp if you’ve a mind to. Next crater over. Can’t miss us.” He turned to leave when Jade’s voice halted him.

  “Which one of your people shot at us today?”

  Harry turned abruptly, his square jaw clenched in an obvious attempt to control his temper. “What the devil are you talking about, woman?”

  Avery explained. “This afternoon a bullet passed dangerously close to Jade.”

  Harry shook his head. “I guess that would explain your sour mood, but we’re only after elephant, and right now we’re just scouting. None of my people fired any shots today.” He turned halfway around to leave, hesitated, and faced Jade once more. “Perhaps, to be on the safe side, we should each keep track of where the other group is so we don’t have any accidents.”

  Jade folded her arms over her chest. “You’re telling us you didn’t butcher that calf today and leave its mother bleeding to death?” She tilted up her jaw and shook her head. Her short dark hair flashed blue-black in the fire’s light. “I don’t believe you, Hascombe. There’s nobody else around here.”

  Harry jabbed a finger in her direction. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Jade, but if you think we’re all alone up here, you’re a damned little fool. Poachers don’t tend to introduce themselves.”

  “Leave my elephants alone, Hascombe!”

  “They’re not your elephants.” He nodded to each of them and stomped off.

  Jade immediately turned on Beverly. “Did you invite him here?”

  Beverly’s jaw dropped. She leaned back on her box and put a hand to her chest. “Me? Why on earth do you think I invited Harry? I was just as surprised to see him as you were.”

  “Just before he showed up, you said, and I quote, ‘It’s high time you quit traipsing all over the continent and settled down with some nice man who can watch over you.’” Jade leaned forward on her own box. “Let me inform you of something, Beverly. Hascombe is not a nice man!”

  “I didn’t know he was here, Jade. You must believe me.”

  Jade heard the hurt in Bev’s voice and apologized for offending her. In her own head she couldn’t quite figure out why she felt such anger towards Hascombe. Oh, certainly she had cause to resent him. His machinations had clouded everything last June while she’d searched with such desperation for her dead sweetheart’s missing brother. And in the end, Harry had been duped by Forster as much as she.

  A nagging voice in one corner of her head sneered at her frustration and reminded her that she had once found Harry Hascombe dangerously attractive. The same voice mockingly took note that he still looked in fine figure. Jade scowled. Pure nonsense, she told herself. It didn’t help. His mention of their dance together at the Muthaiga Club had already opened the door to her memories and another quickly rushed in. She felt his hot kiss pressing on her willing lips after her bullfighting encounter with the rhino.

  Avery’s voice broke into her moody reflections. “Surely you don’t think Hascombe’s people committed those atrocities? Especially after Captain Smythe informed us that raiders are coming down from the north. Harry’s safari might be a fortunate turn of events for us.” Jade frowned at him, and Avery hastened to explain. “There is safety in numbers. If we banded together, we should be safe.”

  “Avery, I can hardly photograph elephants while he runs around and shoots them.”

  “But surely we can work out…” He paused midsentence when his wife placed a restraining hand gently on his arm and shook her head.

  “Let it g
o, darling,” she said in a hushed voice. “We’re all tired.”

  Avery glanced from his wife to Jade and back again. “Um, quite right, my love. It has been a long day.” He rose and stretched. “Are the men keeping watch tonight or is it our turn?”

  “You’re retiring already? The sun hasn’t even set yet.” Immediately Jade regretted her question. After all, they were married and probably dying for some private time, not something easy to achieve on safari. “Um, go ahead and go to bed if you’re tired. Chiumbo has first watch. He’ll see to the others.” She didn’t move when her friends headed for their tent.

  Beverly stopped beside her. “You should get some sleep, Jade. You’re up far too early in the morning, checking your cameras. We’ll see that Jelani goes to bed, too,” she added.

  Jade kept her gaze down at her boots and sighed. “You go on. I’m not tired yet. I’ll sit up for a while.” When Beverly didn’t move from her side, Jade looked up and forced a smile. “I’m fine. I just want to sit here a spell. Maybe talk to Chiumbo about some of his old safaris. And I need to write up some notes from today for my article for The Traveler.”

  Beverly nodded and patted her friend’s shoulder. “Don’t stay up too late.”

  “No, Mother,” replied Jade. She immediately winced as Bev slapped her playfully on the head. After the Dunburys retired, she stirred up the fire with a poker, then tossed another log on top.

  Jade didn’t really want to talk to anyone this evening. Talking meant thinking and she didn’t want to think. She wanted to evaporate, to let all her restlessness rise up as one with the fire’s sparks and dissipate into the soft blackness that fell immediately after sunset. In the distance she heard the tubercular-sounding cough of a leopard, followed by the irate screams of some baboons.

  She pulled a tattered leather notebook and a pencil from one of her jacket pockets, flipped open the book to a blank page, and paused, pencil in the air. To her left, a rhino snorted from down in the brushy donga and from everywhere echoed the explosive snapping of tree limbs. Finally she poured out her impressions of the herds, their tight-knit family units and maternal care. When she reflected on the calf’s death and the brave askari’s murder, her pencil point snapped under the increased pressure.