Stalking Ivory

by Suzanne Arruda

  “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.

  JELANI 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.

  IF 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.

  “Blast!” she whispered. Immediately, the baboons that used these trees for a home started screeching. She remembered hearing them from the hideout and worried that even her whisper could carry down the slope. She motioned for Chiumbo to slip back and waited till they were not directly over the hideout before she spoke again.

  “That was a wild-goose chase. We’ll head back as soon as we have a bite to eat.”

  By three o’clock, they were halfway back to camp when Jade saw Sam standing in the trail waiting for her, rifle in one hand, Biscuit’s leash in the other. One of his own Wakamba men,
Kalinde, stood near him with his movie camera and tripod.

  “Sam! What in blue blazes are you doing here?”

  Sam touched his hat brim with the hand holding the leash and grinned. “Jade, Chiumbo, good afternoon to you, too.” Biscuit tugged at the leash in order to rub his head against Jade’s legs. “Best little tracker in the business,” Sam said, nodding at the cheetah. “I never would have found you otherwise.”

  “I suppose Beverly put you up to this?”

  He shrugged noncommittally. “She may have encouraged me a little, but the idea was my own.” He jerked his head back to the porter and the camera. “After I got through with my assignment, I dropped off Jelani and Nasero, picked up Kalinde, and went looking for you. I thought you might show me something worth filming out here.”

  She pointed back up the mountain. “There is. A couple miles up that trail sits the most beautiful lake, and it’s loaded with elephants.”

  “Well, dang,” said Sam. “I suppose it’s too late to head back up there today, isn’t it?”

  Now it was Jade’s turn to shrug. “Up to you, I suppose.” She resumed walking on, passing the path to camp and heading towards her snare. Sam fell in beside her; his slight limp caused her to slow her pace. She stared at Sam. “I’m amazed. How did you manage to leave Jelani back at camp?”

  Sam pulled off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “Wasn’t easy—that’s for sure. That boy is determined to go where you go. But Avery stepped in and claimed a need for his help. I think they went hunting.”

  “Beverly must have been feeling all right if he was willing to leave her alone. So, did you find out anything of note this morning in Hascombe’s camp?”

  “Now, the fact that you didn’t ask that straightaway tells me you never expected us to.” He watched her face, a big grin on his. When she finally smiled, he clapped his hands together. “Aha! I knew it. You did send us on a fool’s errand. Just for that, I shouldn’t tell you.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Jade. “Really I am. I just hate it when Beverly thinks she needs to mother me and sends everyone else after me to play at babysitting. I’m a grown woman. I can take care of myself.”

  “Amen to that,” murmured Sam. “But to give my report, the answer to your question is an unqualified maybe. Hascombe wasn’t there. Neither were most of the others. That old fellow, von something or other, was there along with his daughter. That’s all.”

  “Von Gretchmar,” said Jade. “He’s a banker.”

  “He certainly looks and acts like someone who sits behind a desk and pompously orders everyone else around.” Sam puffed out his stomach and his cheeks and strutted along the trail like a bowlegged peacock. Behind them, Chiumbo and Kalinde laughed. “The man bears a striking resemblance to a bloated walrus.”

  Jade chuckled. She couldn’t help it. Sam had a natural gift for mimicry. “But did you learn anything of use?” she asked again.

  “Patience, Simba Jike.” He resumed his regular stride beside her. “Jelani and I went over with good old Biscuit here in tow.” He nodded to the spotted cat, which walked in front of and a little between them. “Thought maybe tagging along with the boy and the big kitty would make me look more innocent.”

  “And you also figured, like I did, that they would pay no attention to an African boy, and someone might say something in front of him that they wouldn’t in front of you. I told you, he’s good at infiltration.”

  Sam grinned, a wide row of teeth shining from under his thin mustache. “It might have crossed my mind. He’s clever. Sharp. Doesn’t miss much, and,” he added with a sideways glance at Jade, “he’s absolutely devoted to you. Something I can understand and appreciate.” He grinned again. “Hard not to be devoted to Miss Simba Jike.”

  Jade scowled. “Get on with your story.” Just then Biscuit grew impatient with their slow pace, slipped behind Jade, and butted her. She handed his leash to Chiumbo.

  “I waltzed in there as friendly as a puppy dog. Well, maybe ‘waltz’ isn’t the right word to use,” he added as he looked down at his game leg, “and I hallooed the camp. Wouldn’t want some sleepy Fritz to take a shot at me. The camera’s what did the trick. You were right. They seemed fascinated by motion pictures. That little Mercedes certainly wanted to pose. She even asked me about America and becoming an actress, but Herr Papa didn’t seem to approve. Scolded her roundly. My German is not very good beyond Achtung and halt, so I couldn’t make out the actual words, but there was no mistaking the tenor of his voice.”

  “What did she do?”

  “She started crying and ran to her tent. But that Jelani, he went right over there with Biscuit.” Sam shook his head at the memory. “I’d like to think that he just has a generous heart, but to be honest, I think he saw a chance to take a look around her tent.”

  Jade grinned. “And did he find anything?”

  Sam reached into his side pocket and pulled something out. “I’ll let you be the judge of that.” He opened his hand and revealed a gold Tabora pound.

  Jade gasped. “This was in her tent?” In her head she heard the captured Abyssinian say that white women loved gold. Did he mean Mercedes?

  Sam nodded. “On the ground hidden in the shadows of the canvas, to be precise,” he said. “I think it’s too much of a coincidence to find one of those German East African coins lying about their camp, don’t you?”

  Jade nodded and handed the coin back to him. “But was it hers, or her father’s?”

  “I was in Herr Papa’s tent filming the old walrus to buy Jelani some time. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary there. Maybe it’s from some gentleman who just happened to visit her tent?” suggested Sam. “Perhaps Vogelsanger?”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” She shook her head. “He’s a bit old for her, don’t you think?”

  “She may think so, but I doubt he does. Could be Papa bear is arranging an alliance through marriage. You know, banker and rich industrialist. But there’s also that Mueller fellow. He may be dallying with or without his wife’s knowledge.”

  “Liesel. His wife’s name is Liesel, and you may be right, although he doesn’t appear to have much interest in anything.”

  “And,” added Sam slowly, as if this was an afterthought that had just come to him, “there’s always Hascombe.”

  “Harry?” exclaimed Jade. “It’s true he’s a scoundrel, but I never figured him for allying himself with poachers.”

  “Germans, yes? Poachers, no?” Sam asked in summary.

  “The war’s over, Sam,” Jade replied.

  “Is it?”

  Jade ignored this last question. “Did you show the coin to Avery and Beverly?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet. Didn’t want to rile up Beverly, and speaking of riling up Beverly, what was that story you were spinning this morning about that dog?”

  “Oh, that. Nothing important. Why do you ask?”

  “Avery is my friend, but I don’t know his wife well. I thought maybe it would shed a little light on her.”

  “Not really. I told Bev earlier that we met all because of a lovesick bull elk. It was after one of our cow ponies.”

  “And the pony ran off and the dog went after it,” Sam prompted.

  “Right, but the dog made a side trip.”

  “I caught that much. That, and you somehow got a pup out of it that you named Kaloff. Very funny. I could use a good laugh about now. What happened after that?”

  “I probably shouldn’t tell this without Beverly around. She’ll get mad if she finds out I explained it to you first,” Jade said.

  Sam shrugged. “Secret’s safe with me.” He prompted her a bit more. “You said the pup was part Newfoundland?”

  “Right, but the father was a border collie. Kaloff was cute and big as a yearling black bear but not too bright. He never could quite get the idea of herding. He’d prefer to just pick up something in his mouth and haul it back.”

  “And the sheep didn’t like that, I suppose?”
<
br />   “No, but he didn’t restrict himself to sheep. I even trained him to fetch my tomcat, Rupert, but Kaloff liked toting carcasses, too. Maybe because they didn’t fight back as much as the cat or the sheep. Once he brought back a big old dead raccoon. That thing was so bloated you could’ve played it for bagpipes.”

  Sam winced. “Ick.”

  “That’s about the size of it. So one day he…” She stopped and listened. “We’ve been talking too loudly,” she whispered. “I hear voices.”

  “Sounds like your friend Hascombe and some of his crew.”

  “The question is, what else have they been doing besides hunting?”

  Just then they heard a whoosh followed by a scream.

  CHAPTER 14

  Every gof, or “crater,” on Marsabit holds some water and consequently is well worth the effort to reach to see wildlife, but one lake in particular surpasses them all. Imagine a bowl of liquid turquoise, a mile across, adorned with blue water lilies and white egrets. Picture a mother elephant stepping into the shallows and coaxing her new baby to join her, spraying him with water, while older calves splash and cavort and still older, more sedate pachyderms lounge. Top this with soaring kites and eagles. This is Sokorte Guda.

  —The Traveler

  A SERIES OF STRONG INVECTIVES followed hot on the heels of the scream. Jade recognized the baritone voice as well as a few of the curses. After all, she’d heard them the previous year in Tsavo. She sprinted the short distance to her snare, then doubled over in laughter.

  “Cut me down!” yelled Harry. “Blast it! It’s not funny, Jade!”

  Harry hung by his heels two feet off the ground, swaying and spinning like a wobbly pendulum. His gun bearer stood tentatively nearby, studying the ropes for the best way to ease him down without dropping him on his head. Farther back stood Claudia von Gretchmar, Vogelsanger, and the two Muellers, none of whom wanted to get in the way of Harry’s fists.