Dallas ignored the dramatic outburst, confident that, when the time came, he could stay calm. ‘So what would you aim for?’
‘Like you said, heart, brain or lung, depending on the angle. The difference between you and me is that I know where to find them.’
‘Then let me come with you. I won’t even carry a rifle. Just watch what you do.’
Something between a grunt of disbelief and a snort of reluctant acceptance burst from Logan. ‘You come with me, my boy, you carry a rifle and make damned sure you’re prepared to use it. Got that?’
Dallas nodded happily.
‘You walk when and where I walk. You stop when I stop. You shoot only if I tell you and then you fire immediately. You run like hell on my command and that you do before the words are out of my mouth. Understand?’
Another nod.
‘Keep your gun loaded and both barrels cocked, your finger well away from the triggers. Got that?’
‘Yes.’
‘You fire without a good reason, and I mean one like I’m about to get stomped, and my gun bearer will have orders to shoot you. Got that?’
‘Fine.’
‘Fine.’ Logan continued to load his rifles, patching and ramming a solid spherical ball down each barrel.
‘Just one thing.’
The older man sighed.
‘I want to shoot an elephant.’
Without looking up, Logan replied, ‘How did I know you were going to say that?’
‘Just one.’
‘We’ll see. If I tell you it’s not safe, will you listen?’
‘Yes.’
Logan bellowed to Mister David. ‘Did you shoot elephants with David Leslie?’
‘Yes, master.’
‘Good. You can come with us. What about you, Will? I don’t suppose you want to join us. Let’s make this a party, why don’t we?’
Will shook his head vigorously. ‘You’re welcome to them bastards. I’m staying right here. First shot I hear I’m up a tree.’
Logan, lighting a cigar, glanced at him and gave a sardonic smile. ‘Got a decent rifle?’
‘For elephants?’ Will shook his head. ‘Only a Hayton Cape gun.’
‘What combination?’
‘Twelve bore and Snider. 577.’
‘That’ll do.’ Logan jerked his head towards Dallas. ‘He’ll need back-up. Give it to David.’
‘What about me?’ Will whined.
‘You’ll be up a tree, remember? Borrow the Yellow Boy. That should take care of the leopard.’
Will’s eyes widened.
Logan shook his head and chuckled.
One of the young men from Chief Ngetho’s umuzi, who had gone into the trees to scout, came running back. ‘Ndhlovu,’ he panted, pointing.
After listening for some time and questioning the African, Logan translated. ‘They’re about three miles away and moving towards us.’ He squinted at the sun. ‘They’ll browse for a couple of hours yet then head for water. Normally I’d wait for them to drink but with our cattle here it could make them nervous.’ He ground the cigar under his heel. ‘Right. No more talking,’ he said tersely and moved off.
The five young villagers, armed only with spears, went ahead. Logan and his gun bearer followed some twenty yards behind, the former stopping whenever a slight breeze reached them to check its direction with powdered ash from a pouch on his belt. Four Zulus from the trading party, carrying nothing more than assegais, were next. Dallas and Mister David brought up the rear. They crossed immediately to the treeline on their left and followed it east, towards the elephants, keeping to the plain for easier walking.
The heat never let up and sweat ran freely down Dallas’s face, stinging his eyes. He didn’t bother to brush it away. Moving at a fast pace, his own momentum created a cooling effect that brought relief of sorts.
Thirty minutes later, the Africans in front stopped. Logan did the same, indicating that Dallas should remain where he was. They listened. The sound of a breaking branch nearby told them that the men intent on taking life were converging with the animals who were concentrating only on sustaining it.
Slowly now, silently, they moved on. Dallas could only guess at Logan’s intentions. They had to stay upwind but the elephants would instinctively try to flee in that direction since it was their only escape from the valley. So, inexperienced as he might be, once the first shot was fired Dallas knew they could reasonably expect a panicked stampede with any number of animals heading straight for them. He was grateful suddenly for the hours his father had spent teaching him that a gun was to be treated as an extension of his arm. He could shoot as well as the next man. But could he remain calm?
Entering the trees, Logan beckoned and waited for Dallas to join him. Chief Ngetho’s warriors, together with their own boys, melted away, presumably to a safer location. They would not reappear until the shooting stopped.
‘They’re just ahead,’ Logan whispered.
Peering through the gloom of dappled shade, Dallas could see nothing. But he heard them – a rumbling-stomach sound, breaking branches. And he could smell them – a pleasant manure odour, not unlike the stables at home, coupled with the sharper, almost astringent, tartness of urine. His eyes scanned the bush. How could such large animals so near to them remain invisible?
‘There,’ Logan hissed. ‘Big male.’
An elephant’s head came into view over a tree at least ten feet tall. It was browsing on the tender top leaves, wrapping its trunk around several branches, stripping them of foliage then placing it in its mouth. Almost immediately a searching trunk hovered over the tree again, selecting, stripping and delicately devouring the find. Dallas estimated that the animal was no more than twenty feet from where he, Logan and the two Zulus stood frozen. With what little breeze there was wafting towards them, and the sound of breaking branches loud in the silence, the elephant had no idea they were there.
Logan raised his rifle. ‘Get ready,’ he mouthed.
Dallas nodded and eased a finger towards the triggers. A quick glance towards Mister David reassured him that the Zulu had Will’s Cape gun at the ready.
Logan seemed to be taking a long time. The elephant’s head was still clearly visible. What had his partner said about a side-on brain shot? A line between the ear and eye. That was it. Logan was waiting for the animal to present a better shot.
The sudden crashing retort caused Dallas to jump. Of the elephant there was suddenly no sign, but everything around them instantly exploded with trumpeting screams and the crashing of undergrowth.
‘Back to back!’ Logan shouted, changing rifles, no longer concerned with caution. ‘If anything comes for us, shoot it.’
From nowhere it seemed, the bush was suddenly alive with lumbering grey shapes. For a moment Dallas’s mind froze and he had the fleeting feeling that he shouldn’t be here, that he just had to close his eyes to be somewhere else – anywhere would do. The sight of a massive dark shape heading straight for them, fury exuding from the animal and boring deep into Dallas’s soul, cleared his head in an instant. Forgetting sweat-stung eyes, awe, fear, and even his inexperience, Dallas instinctively fell into an ice-cold, precise, do-what-you-have-to-but-do-it-now state of mind. His actions were unhurried yet efficient, unpanicked though borne of urgency, and he recalled, with crystal clarity, everything Logan had told him about an elephant’s vital organs.
Dimly aware that Logan had fired again, Dallas aimed and placed a shot between but below an elephant’s eyes. The grey head reared and its hindquarters collapsed. A second animal appeared, turning at the sight of its fallen companion. Dallas found the area behind its front leg. A heart shot. The elephant stumbled, picked up speed, then after a few shambling steps, all four massive legs collapsed and the giant pachyderm went down.
Mister David snatched the empty rifle and reloaded. Will’s Cape gun felt wrong in Dallas’s hands but, with incredible speed, his own weapon was thrust back to him together with a shouted, ‘Behind!’
&nb
sp; Dallas whirled, gun raised.
Three of them. Even as he fired he was aware that one had dropped at a shot from Logan. A second fell to Dallas’s first barrel and the third veered off to be swallowed up by the bush. A juvenile careered by, panicked eyes searching for its mother. By now the herd had located the source of their terror and all that remained was the crashing of their flight from whatever dreadful horror had visited the once peaceful valley. There was one long trumpeting scream in the distance and the bush went quiet. No-one moved for a few seconds.
‘Insurance,’ barked Logan, running to the nearest fallen animal and placing a shot at close range into its brain.
Dallas reloaded his empty barrel and did the same. Two were already dead but the heart-shot elephant shuddered as the 750 grain solid bullet snuffed out what little was left of his life.
‘Good shooting, master.’ Mister David pounded Dallas’s left arm and smiled widely. His life had been dependent on the skill of a young unproven white man, but faith in him never wavered for an instant. The enormity of such a responsibility hadn’t once crossed Dallas’s mind and he nodded vaguely in the aftershock of action, staring down at the once mighty elephant. In death, it resembled nothing more than a mound of grey, wrinkled flesh. In life, it had been magnificent.
‘Good ivory,’ Mister David commented.
‘Is it?’ The tusks looked small to him.
‘If it is longer than the ear, it is worth taking,’ Mister David told him. ‘These ones are also thick. They should weigh around ninety pounds each.’
Logan joined them, a mixed expression on his face – relief, satisfaction and something that looked curiously sad. ‘Not bad. Three each. You kept your head, well done. I know how difficult that can be when it’s your first time, especially as conditions were far from ideal. It was easy to get close but once they panicked, bloody dangerous.’ Logan looked down at the dead elephant. ‘Shame,’ he said in soft sympathy.
The Africans had reappeared and moved among the fallen elephants, hacking out the tusks. Their conversation was loud and happy.
‘Full stomachs for some of them for a while. Let’s leave them to it,’ Logan said.
‘Some of them? I thought so much meat would be plenty for all.’
‘It is, but they have certain taboos that prevent young people from eating elephant meat.’
‘Do you know why?’
‘Young couples are afraid that the wife will give birth to an elephant if either of them eat it. I think it’s because the animal seems to have many human traits. In times of famine, however, when they deliberately avoid pregnancy, they’ll eat it fast enough.’
‘So it’s a superstition rather than any natural revulsion?’
‘Oh, quite. And like most, has its origin in procreational myths.’
They emerged from the trees, about half a mile from the wagons. Logan placed two fingers in his mouth and gave a shrill whistle. The remainder of their staff must have been waiting for the signal for they came at a run. Watching their bobbing figures, Logan chuckled. ‘They’ll want their share of the fat.’
‘Fat?’
The older man nodded. ‘They cook with it and eat it on bread.’
Dallas pulled a face.
‘It’s not that bad actually. You should try it.’
‘I’m still coming to terms with biltong.’
Logan laughed. ‘You’ll get used to it.’ He clapped Dallas on the back. ‘I don’t know about you but I need a drink.’
It was only then that Dallas realised he was feeling slightly weak at the knees. The size, proximity and sheer power of the elephants had caught him unawares. It was one thing to shoot deer back home. Out here, as Logan had pointed out on several occasions, a hunter’s life is often on the line. A jammed gun, a moment’s hesitation and the tables can turn against you.
‘Do you ever get used to it?’ he asked as they made their way back towards the wagons.
‘Not in my experience. Back there was typical elephant country. You have to get in there with them and anything can happen. Even out in the open, if they get wind of you, anticipate a charge. Cows with young are the most dangerous. Bulls may be satisfied with scaring you off but females go for the kill.’
‘How can you tell a male from a female, like you did back there, when we could only see his head?’
‘From its shape. Bulls have a rounded forehead where cows form a quite distinct angle. By the way, try not to shoot any more pregnant females.’
‘I didn’t have much option. She was coming straight at me.’
Logan nodded. ‘Fair enough. It happens now and then.’
Dallas pulled a face. When he’d gone to deliver the coup de grâce he’d seen that what he’d thought was a bull had been heavy with calf. Despite his lack of choice, the fact that he had to kill a pregnant cow filled him with disgust.
Logan sensed his disquiet and tried to lighten the moment. ‘I’ve yet to see an elephant hunter ask politely if his quarry would mind giving birth so he can collect her tusks with a clear conscience. There’s no room in this business for sentimentality.’ He gave a brief laugh. ‘God knows why I keep hunting them. They scare the hell out of me every time.’
But Dallas still had his mind on the pregnant elephant. ‘I’m not being sentimental. Well, maybe a little. A pregnant animal is hardly sport, is it?’
Logan stopped walking. ‘None of this is sport,’ he said sharply. ‘It’s trade. Business. A livelihood. That’s all. You want sport, go hunt with the trophy seekers.’
‘Sorry.’ Dallas wondered what had upset the older man.
‘If you think I enjoyed that back there, think again,’ Logan went on. ‘If I could extract their bloody teeth without killing them, I would.’
‘But –’
‘There are no buts. An elephant is the most destructive beast God ever put on this earth. They raid the native crops, decimate the bush, strip and kill trees making food difficult to find for other animals. There are hundreds, no thousands, too many of them. Killing a few makes no difference. The tusks and skins give us a livelihood and their flesh feeds the local tribes.’ Logan took a reflective breath. ‘But if you’ve ever watched them take care of their wounded, look after the young, if you’ve witnessed their greeting rituals or methods of communication, if you’ve ever stood still and really looked at a herd, you’ll know that the elephant is a gentle, intelligent and truly magnificent beast, worthy of our respect. That’s why I hate killing them.’
‘Then why –’
Yet again, Logan interrupted.
‘Why? Money, old chap. The scourge of our modern world. I kill them because I must. Because it’s the only thing I know how to do. But I don’t have to like it.’
Dallas realised that Logan was angry with himself. ‘If it bothers you that much, why not find something else to do?’
Logan started walking again. ‘I can’t,’ he said softly. ‘Nothing else matches it for excitement. And therein, my young friend, lies the paradoxical nature of man.’
Dallas was still pondering Logan’s profundity when they approached the wagons. Will didn’t wait for them to reach him.
‘You fuckin’ bastards,’ he yelled, shaking a fist.
Dallas and Logan exchanged a glance. What was bothering Will?
‘You imbeciles. You shit-eating dog pricks. You . . . you . . .’ Will ran out of steam.
‘What’s your problem?’ Logan went straight to his wagon and, rummaging, produced a bottle of rum.
‘Gimme that.’ Will snatched, tore out the cork and upended the bottle.
‘Hey!’ Logan grabbed it back. ‘Mine, I believe.’ He took a swig and handed the rum to Dallas. ‘What’s got into you?’
‘Those fuckin’ elephants!’ Will shouted. ‘You did that on purpose.’
‘Did what, for Christ’s sake? What the hell are you talking about?’
Will pointed a shaking finger towards the trees. ‘They came out right there. Ran straight at us. You deliberately c
hased them this way.’
Logan’s head dropped and he pinched the top of his nose. He seemed to be counting to ten. When he looked up, Dallas could see the anger on his face. ‘Next time we go after elephant, Will, I suggest you really do climb a nice big tree.’
‘Think I won’t?’ Will sneered. ‘I could have been killed.’
Logan walked away from the wagons and looked at the ground some forty yards away. ‘Here are their tracks,’ he called. Returning, Logan stood close in front of Will. ‘They were running for their bloody lives, you spineless, gutless wonder. I doubt they even knew you were here.’ He jerked a thumb at Dallas. ‘This man could have been killed.’ Another stab, this time towards himself. ‘I could have been killed. The natives with us could have been killed. You? Why would they bother with a puny little weed like you?’
‘You can’t talk to me like that. We’re supposed to be partners.’
Logan turned away, disgusted. ‘Go to hell. Just keep out of my sight.’
‘And you shouldn’t –’
The speed with which Logan turned back and clutched Will’s shirt front full in his fist was astonishing. He shook the man like a terrier would a rat. ‘One more word,’ he gritted, ‘just one. That’s all it will take and I’ll break your fucking neck.’ He threw Will aside and strode to the back of his wagon.
Will turned beseeching eyes on Dallas, who shrugged and also moved away. After the danger they’d encountered in the trees, Will’s thoughtless complaint had angered him as well.
One of the young men from Chief Ngetho’s village went to fetch the extra assistance that would be required to carry so much meat. Six elephants would take time to cut up. ‘We’ll outspan here,’ Dallas announced.
Logan reappeared. ‘Good idea. We’ll probably need tomorrow as well.’
‘What if the elephants come back?’
‘Shut up,’ Logan and Dallas yelled in unison. Then Logan added, ‘If they do we’ll make sure you’re staked out right in their path.’
Dallas tossed Will some soap. ‘Clean yourself up. The elephants won’t be back.’
Will headed for the river without another word but took his Cape gun with him.
Shadows in the Grass Page 28
