Stalking Ivory

by Suzanne Arruda

  Harry nodded. “I sent my headman, Nakuru, and the rest of the porters off to the northern craters in case the others went in that direction.” He scowled at Sam from under his hat brim. “So, what’s this all about, Featherstone? What happened to you?”

  Sam briefly related Jelani’s capture and their own escape, avoiding only the fact that he and Jade had initially doubled back to spy on Harry. After all, he thought, Mueller might be a part of this yet. “We followed your trail this way. Jade told me there’s an old pit trap exposed around the southern side of the crater. She thought it would be a place to look.”

  “But you’re here alone,” Harry said. “Just where is our little Simba Jike now?”

  “Where she can’t get into too much mischief. She’s with Captain Smythe. We ran into him over an hour ago. Smythe sent one of his native soldiers to guard the women at your camp, but he told me to find you and send you back to relieve his man so he and the rest would look for Mercedes’ parents.”

  Harry’s eyes widened. “The hell you say!” he roared. “I ran into him first thing today. He’s the one who told us he’d seen von Gretchmar and his wife up on top here scouting elephants, but we can’t find any trace of them, or tracks that they’ve ever been here.”

  “And you’ve been all over the crater?”

  Harry nodded. “All I can figure is that he saw them head this way, but they changed course before they got there. We’d better get to that pit. They could be in there.”

  “The question is,” said Sam, “did Vogelsanger toss them in alive?”

  They hastened towards the place where Jade had said she’d found the pit, and kept a sharp eye out for Vogelsanger or any of the poachers. “There it is,” said Sam as the edge of the exposed trap first appeared.

  Harry ran close and peered in. “Bloody hell,” he swore. “It’s Vogelsanger.”

  Sam joined him. “He’s bound and unconscious, but still alive. Von Gretchmar must have gained the upper hand.”

  “Yes,” said Harry, “but where’s von Gretchmar now?”

  Two of the porters jumped into the pit and hoisted up the injured Prussian, then clambered out with the aid of their comrades. “Looks like he’s been hit over the head,” said Sam.

  Harry untied Vogelsanger’s hands while Sam undid the man’s shirt and searched for wounds. “Probably some cracked ribs as well, judging by these bruises.” He splashed water from his canteen on the man’s face, then poured a bit into his mouth.

  The Prussian sputtered, groaned, and opened his eyes. “Mein Gott! Thank heavens you found me,” he said with a moan.

  “Where’s von Gretchmar and his wife?” said Harry. “Tell me what you did with them or you’re going to find yourself with something worse than a headache.”

  Eric struggled to sit up, screamed in pain, groaned, and plopped onto his back again, his hand held at his chest. “I never found them. Some Englander hit me.”

  Sam and Harry stared at each other. “An Englander?” repeated Harry.

  “But the only other Englander left around here is Smythe,” said Sam. Suddenly his brows contracted in a scowl. “Then he’s…,” Sam mumbled as he comprehended the situation.

  “That’s right,” growled Harry, “and our Jade is alone with him.”

  Harry turned and barked a few orders to his gun bearer and Mueller. “You take Vogelsanger back to camp. If someone tries to shoot you, shoot ’em first.” He turned back to Sam and nodded at the Enfield in his hand. “You any good with that?” Sam nodded. Harry pulled his hat down firmly on his brow. “Then come on, Featherstone. There’s no time to waste.”

  Sam followed as rapidly as he could, sliding back down the trail more than walking it. In his mind he kept replaying the look of intense hatred and rage in Jade’s eyes when she had brought Jelani back to him and her vow to kill whoever’d hurt the boy. As soon as Jade uncovered the truth, she’d stop at nothing to avenge Jelani. Sam only hoped he could reach her in time to stop her from crossing the line from self-defense into murder.

  “Don’t worry about Jade. She can handle herself,” said Harry as if he read part of Sam’s thoughts.

  “It’s not Jade I’m actually worried about,” said Sam. “It’s what she’ll do to Smythe that’s got me concerned.”

  “What she doesn’t do, I intend to finish,” added Harry. “That man shot my cheetah.”

  THE DEADFALL had worked but in a limited way. It would be only a matter of seconds before Smythe was on his feet again and in pursuit. Jade regretted that his revolver had landed on the other side of her escape route; she’d have liked to have something more than her confiscated bow for a weapon. Thank the Lord and pompous officers that Smythe hadn’t had the foresight to take it away from her. If she could just get somewhere safe enough to lie in wait and get off a good shot. She’d have to rely on Boguli for that.

  Would she be able to handle it? She’d pulled this bow only once before and that was to gently fire an arrow into Harry’s tent. It had at least a fifty-pound draw weight, and she was running low on energy now. If she tired too much, she’d never get the string back far enough to shoot with any decent force. She’d come close to breaking a cardinal rule of hunters everywhere: never go out with an untried weapon. In addition, her hands stung from the fisticuffs and her knuckles were swelling. She ripped a strip of fabric from her shirt and wrapped it three times around her right hand’s knuckles.

  Ahead of her, Boguli darted along the ancient trail, his head turning from side to side as though he was searching for something. Behind her, she heard Smythe curse as he scrambled for his revolver. They needed to get out of his line of fire and soon. Almost as if he read her mind, the old man pointed to the right and waved his arm for her to hurry. They slipped into the darkness of the forest just as Jade heard a crack and a high, singing hum as a bullet flew past. It struck a tree with a dull thud.

  She grabbed an arrow from her makeshift quiver and held it aloft for Boguli to see. He nodded and began a tortuous route winding back and forth among the trees, keeping the larger ones between them and the enraged captain. Jade, exhausted from her ordeals as well as lack of food and rest, relied on the sheer obedience of her leg muscles to propel her forward. But more than putting distance between her and Smythe, she longed to double back and catch him from behind. She unslung her bow as another bullet whizzed a few feet to her right. At least when she finally got a chance to shoot an arrow, there would be little sound to give her away.

  Boguli led her up the hill, all the while avoiding the more well-traveled trails. He seemed to know exactly where the more secretive paths lay and led her into them by obscure routes that were harder for Smythe to spot than an obvious trail juncture. After nearly a quarter of an hour, Boguli suddenly crouched down behind a bush and motioned for Jade to do the same.

  Relieved at the chance to catch her breath, Jade took advantage of the respite to nock her arrow. Boguli pointed to her right and slipped into the shadows, walking in a low crouch. Jade followed suit, making certain to keep her body well below the line of bushes. To her left came the sound of heavy footfalls and rapid breathing as Smythe came closer.

  The bushes in this spot offered few gaps, and Jade had no intention of stepping in front of Smythe to try for a chest shot. She waited patiently until she heard him pass, counted silently to ten, then slipped out of the brush forty feet behind him. Using every ounce of strength, she drew the bow back to her cheek, sighted, and let fly.

  That’s for Jelani!

  Either the feathers in the fletching were twisted and worn from previous use, or the bowstring was not centered. Instead of flying true, the arrow dipped a bit to the left and struck Smythe in his left buttock rather than in his back as Jade had intended. She heard him scream in pain and rage as he grabbed for the arrow behind him. He turned and fired wildly into the brush, but by that time both Jade and Boguli had disappeared into the forest.

  “KEEP UP, MAN,” Harry hollered over his shoulder to Sam.

  T
he twisting nature of the game trail and the danger of racing headlong into a prowling leopard, a drowsy buffalo, or an ill-tempered cobra kept Hascombe to a brisk walk punctuated by brief jogs along the straighter patches. Sam, unable to run hard for any distance, and hampered by his growing exhaustion, lagged behind, relying more and more on the stout walking stick for support in order to keep up his speed.

  “Dammit, Hascombe,” Sam panted, “you’re making enough noise to alert Smythe and his entire crew. Besides which, you’re running off blindly. You have no idea where to look for them now.”

  The last part of Sam’s statement slowed Harry more than the first. He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to wait for Sam. “Then tell me, Featherstone, and I’ll run ahead and intercept them.”

  Sam caught up and took a moment to regain his breath. “The hell you will. You’re not charging in there without me.”

  Harry’s smile was a devious sneer. “Afraid I’ll save her by myself and win her over, eh, Featherstone?”

  Sam scowled. He really wanted to punch this man square in the jaw, but unfortunately, he needed him right now to save Jade. “No. I just don’t want your suicidal charge on my hands.”

  Harry snorted. “To be sure.” He shot a look at Sam’s leg. “Seriously, man, are you going to make it? Did you sprain your ankle?”

  Sam massaged his knee and upper thigh, checking that all the buckles and attachments that held his prosthetic limb were still in place. “Trust me when I say that I feel absolutely no pain in my ankle.”

  “Well, I don’t intend to carry you,” said Harry as he turned aside and looked down the game trail. “And we can’t dawdle too much, noise or not. So just where are we going?”

  Sam took another deep breath, straightened, and briefly studied the terrain. He recognized an offshoot trail as a path that led in one direction to his hidden Dodge, and in the other to the poachers’ cache. “To the villain’s lair,” said Sam. “This time, you follow me.”

  JADE PAUSED BEHIND A TREE and took stock of her remaining ammunition. Six arrows left, hardly enough to launch a full-scale assault if Smythe’s men returned. Just how many soldiers did he have in his little army, not counting the Abyssinians themselves? She’d never seen him with more than two or three soldiers. Maybe the real troops were kept at a distance, patrolling other parts of the northern frontier under a junior officer.

  For a moment, she remembered the executed man she’d found among the dead elephants. At least one man had remained loyal to king and country. Was he a new recruit sent to join Smythe’s ranks? Had he stumbled on only the Abyssinian poachers or had he caught Smythe in the act? Whatever he’d discovered, Jade admired him. There was a man who refused to relinquish his honor even in the face of death. She fingered an arrow before nocking it. This next one’s for you.

  Before she’d sequestered herself behind this tree, Boguli had motioned for her to stay put, pushing his outstretched palm down. The old man himself had wandered off into the forest, presumably to scout. Jade didn’t mind. Waiting gave her time to recoup her dwindling strength. It also gave her time to think, and her thoughts kept returning to the dead soldier, hunched on the ground with a gaping hole in place of his face. From there, memories of the slaughtered elephant calf crept in along with the cow that had been left to bleed to death. Finally her thoughts rested on Chiumbo and young Jelani, and once again, Jade lingered there and felt the rage well up within her like a geyser about to blow. She welcomed it. The anger gave her strength and determination. Somewhere in the recesses of her brain she heard Beverly remind her not to get awarded the “order of the wooden cross,” a term used in the ambulance corps to represent a deceased driver’s grave marker. No, getting killed wouldn’t bring this man to justice, she decided, and tempered her anger with a dose of caution.

  Finally, when her patience had worn itself to nothing, she spied Boguli, a dusty gray shadow thirty feet away. He beckoned for her to follow. With a quick look around for danger, Jade sprinted through the trees towards him. She didn’t know where he planned to lead her, but she followed willingly, trusting him.

  Boguli took her on a winding path off trail, a route on which she never lacked for a sheltering tree trunk to guard her. It had been over a quarter of an hour since she’d last heard Smythe, and she wondered if he was on her trail or she was on his. The answer came quickly enough when Boguli crouched behind a tree and motioned for Jade to do the same behind a rocky outcrop. Then he pointed to her left. When she peered over the boulder, Jade spotted Smythe standing not fifty feet away, facing down a slight incline.

  Jade recognized the spot. It was one they’d passed just before she’d rested awhile. Boguli had once again doubled back. Silently, Jade took her bow, aiming for Smythe’s back, but just as she released the string, Smythe squatted to examine a partial boot print. Her arrow flew high this time, and tore under his hat brim and through the cartilage of his right ear.

  That’s for the soldier you murdered! The next one’s for Chiumbo.

  Smythe shrieked in pain as the arrow sliced through his right ear’s cartilage. Blood splattered his shirt and the surrounding leaves as he spun and fired. The bullet struck the edge of Jade’s sheltering boulder and ricocheted off.

  She hunkered down into a low crouch and scuttled away crablike as she strove to keep the rocky outcrop between her and the next shot. Smythe fired again, the bullet passing just overhead and into the trees beyond as Jade darted around first one tree, then another. Behind her, the tree bark shattered and pelted her back.

  No need for silence now, just speed. With Smythe stuck below the rock outcrop, he had no choice but to backtrack and find a path up to her. Jade planned on being well out of sight by that time, and back in the role of predator instead of prey. Unfortunately, it gave him ample time to reload, and she also lost sight of Boguli as she dodged Smythe’s repeated fire. Without him to guide her, she took the only path she recognized, one that, she hoped, led past the only remaining camera blind and a potential hiding place. With any luck, she could use it as a hunter’s blind.

  Her lungs burned and her leg muscles started to cramp when she finally stopped and collapsed, panting, behind the big mahogany tree where she’d first watched the old bull elephant dust-bathe. Since the day that the bull fell, the herd of cows had left the area, shunning it as though it were haunted. Nothing larger than small animals had prowled the trail. Consequently, her trip wire, upraised a foot so only an elephant or another large mammal could trip it, remained untouched. Jade jumped over it and surveyed the blind up in the trees.

  For a moment, she considered hiding up there. If Smythe came by, she could shoot down on him. She changed the “if” to “when.” After all, in her mad dash through the forest, she’d surely left a trail that an experienced tracker such as Smythe could follow. Jade pulled another arrow from her quiver and inspected it. Like the others, it had been pulled from the carcass of the dead bull elephant. Consequently, either the shafts or the fletchings bore some damage and might not shoot true to aim. Unless she killed Smythe in one shot, she’d be a sitting duck up in the tree.

  Her lips twitched as an idea came to her. She still might be able to make use of the blind as a decoy. Her makeshift rope ladder rested atop a lower branch, its end dangling just within reach where she’d left it. She stretched up, grabbed it, and gave it a tug. The rope with its knotted loops for hand-and footholds fell easily from its perch. She climbed up the first two loops and scuffed the tree trunk with her right bootheel as though she’d hurriedly climbed the ladder, using the trunk for a brace. Then she dropped back to the ground and scuffed the leaf litter before she slipped off to the other side of the trail to wait.

  If her plan worked, Smythe would be along shortly, studying the ground for her tracks. He’d see the scuff marks and conclude that she’d only recently climbed up into the blind. While he stood below looking for her and taking his aim, she’d risk another shot at him.

  Jade examined her remaining arrows and chos
e one of the better ones, but when she nocked it, her hands shook as exhaustion caught up with her. Even her thigh muscles trembled. The pain in her left knee made her wince as she attempted to settle into a solid stance, and when she flexed her leg to ease the strain, her calf muscles charley horsed. Jade clenched her teeth as she massaged out the cramp.

  A soft crunch arrested her attention, and she froze. Smythe! He padded closer with cautious steps, stopping periodically to examine the ground. When he turned his profile to her to inspect the tree, Jade saw he’d tied up his ripped ear with a pocket handkerchief. Blood seeped through it and hung in a congealed stalactite near his lobe. Flies buzzed his head and shirt, drawn by the scent of blood. Other, larger beasts would be attracted by that scent before long. Let them come!

  Smythe stepped backward into the brush and squatted down while he considered the tree blind. Blast! Jade knew the man had to be clever to keep his superiors in the dark about his operation, but she’d hoped he’d step closer to the tree to at least inspect the scuff marks. Yet when she thought about it, she knew she would have suspected a trap, too. Unfortunately, she couldn’t see him well enough to risk releasing the arrow. She’d have to circle around behind him.

  Escape routes and risks formed and re-formed in Jade’s mind when she spied Boguli slip across the trail several yards past Smythe. Since her ally might have an idea himself, she decided to wait a few more moments in her hiding place before risking a move. She peered past Smythe and into the trees beyond, hoping for a glance of the old African and a clue to his plan, but he certainly knew how to avoid being seen or heard when he wanted.

  A trumpeting blast ripped through the dead silence and nearly toppled Jade in surprise. The elephant that announced its anger at the intruders must have been sleeping only a few dozen feet behind Smythe. Jade could only assume Boguli had found the behemoth and startled it.