by Tony Park
They had left the other two passengers in the Land Rover, parked a short distance back, where they had stopped for sundowners. They had arrived at Lion Plains that morning and it was the first time Musa had seen Tumi in person since they had spoken by phone, on the Blue Train.
‘Is it true what they said in the newspapers, that McMurtrie’s daughter helped kill Jan Stein?’ Tumi asked him in a soft voice.
‘Yes. She had Cameron’s gun with her; she feared for her safety after being kidnapped by Wellington. She passed the pistol to the Mozambican, Luis Correia, and he shot Stein – Karl Lotz – between the eyes.
Tumi shook her head. ‘Eish. I’m safer here in the bush with all the lions and the leopards.’
Musa laughed quietly. They had come to Lion Plains not just to visit his cousin and spend a night in the lodge, but also to see the owls that had turned the coalmining project on its head. ‘Are you enjoying being the lodge manager now?’
Tumi sighed. ‘Acting manager. And it’s hard work, but the good news is the community leaders have given up thinking about mining and they are committed to making Lion Plains the best game reserve in the area.’
‘That’s good,’ Musa said.
‘We need to find these owls soon as you have to get back and have dinner. It will be ironic if they have left. But even if they have, I won’t tell the local community.’ She looked back and winked at Musa.
‘We’ve got an early start now. We have to go see our new Mozambican project manager, Luis Correia, in Maputo tomorrow.’
‘Sshh! Musa, look!’
Tumi shone her spotlight and Musa could see the glowing orange eyes staring at him. The owl blinked, but a second later it flew away.
‘Damn, that was the pel’s fishing owl!’ Tumi said. ‘He’s gone. But look at that hollow in the tree trunk, near where the big branch joins it. I’m going to have a look.’
‘But, Tumi, it’s dark, and it’s dangerous out here at night.’
‘Man up, Musa! The researchers I spoke to need as much information as they can get, especially about nesting sites. I’m going to have a look.’
Musa stood disapprovingly with his hands on his hips as his crazy cousin waded into the stream below the bank and scrambled up onto the other side. He shook his head as he watched her climb the tree they had been watching, as agile and sure-footed as a leopard. She hoisted herself up onto the branch and peered into the hollow near where they had seen the owl.
Tumi screamed, and Musa feared for a heartbeat she had been bitten by a black mamba or some other deadly snake. Then he saw the startled blur of wings and feathers as the owl burst from the hollow. Tumi lost her grip on the branch and dropped to the ground.
‘Tumi, are you all right?’ he called.
She stood, laughed, and brushed herself down. When she forded the stream back to the other side she was grinning wide. ‘That gave me a fright. It must have been the female. Musa, you’ll never guess – there were two eggs in the hollow!’
They retraced their steps through the bush, Tumi shining the light ahead of them. ‘Kylie will be so excited. She said she really wanted to see the owls,’ Tumi said.
‘And so did Jess,’ Musa said, pushing a branch out of his way. ‘It’s a shame she had to stay in Barberton, studying with her friends.’
‘She is a clever girl, that one.’
‘You know,’ Musa said, ‘I’m glad the mine never went ahead here. I’m pleased for you, and pleased for the company that Luis has found us a coal field in Mozambique where the local people are happy to have a mine and the income it will bring.’
He looked up at the rising moon and breathed in the rich scents of the bush around him. Musa wondered why Cameron and Kylie hadn’t come with them on the walk but had decided instead to wait with the Land Rover whilst Tumi tried to find the owls and, if she could, follow them back to their nest.
He and Kylie had spent an hour that afternoon working on a draft media release for the Global Resources board about their search for a new CEO. Kylie had been acting in the role since the incident on the Blue Train and Musa had assumed she would end up with the top job on a permanent basis. The Eureka mine was open and back up to full production, and mine security was winkling out the last of the zama zamas. Cameron had decided to stay with the company as head of new projects and, as the next big one would be the coalmine, he and Jess would relocate across the border to Mozambique once she finished school. The company’s share price was recovering and all was looking good for a change. Musa had been surprised, then, when Kylie had told him to write that she was not putting her hat in the ring to be considered for the permanent CEO’s position. She would be staying as the head of health, environment, safety and community, across the company, and the board also wanted her to oversee its African operations, particularly during negotiation and development of the new Mozambican coalmine. She had always struck him as a particularly ambitious and motivated woman, and while it was clear from their short stay at Lion Plains that her love affair with the African bush was continuing, he still couldn’t understand why she would want to spend more time in Africa instead of in the company’s headquarters in Sydney.
They reached the clearing where Tumi had left the Land Rover. Tumi put her hand up and Musa stopped behind her. He hoped Kylie and Cameron hadn’t been eaten.
When he peered around his cousin’s shoulder, however, he saw what the matter was, and a few things fell into place. Cameron McMurtrie and Kylie Hamilton were still in the back seat of the Land Rover where Tumi had left them, and they were kissing.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
One of the many things I like about writing novels is that my job gives me a chance to explore – not just new places, but parts of life I would otherwise never have been exposed to.
However, when I started writing a book about mining I soon learned that this was a whole other world with a language of its own. I would never have been able to attempt to negotiate the literal labyrinth of the world of mining without some excellent guides. First and foremost I’d like to thank Casper Strydom, General Manager of Barberton Mines, in the historic gold mining town of Barberton, South Africa. Casper and his equally helpful Chief Geologist, Roelf le Roux, patiently explained the workings of a gold mine and the history of their town, and took me underground for a first hand look at the Fairview Goldmine, including sites where criminal miners had been working. Casper and Roelf read the manuscript for The Prey, as did Steve Smith and Scotney Moore, who also work in the mining industry. All provided much appreciated corrections and valuable feedback; needless to say, any technical mistakes that remain are my doing alone. Thanks to you all for your help, time and patience.
Thanks, too, to James Rickards for his insights into the corporate side of the mining world; to Annelien Oberholzer for her patient and ongoing correction of my Afrikaans; to Wayne Hamilton from swagmantours.com.au for his input into the tourism related scenes; to John Roberts for his in depth knowledge of Mozambique and its history.
Lianne Kelly-Maartens from the Sun International hotel group organised for me to stay at the excellent Royal Livingstone Hotel in Zambia while was researching the book and I thank her and the staff there for a lovely stay.
Hippo Rock Private Nature Reserve and Lion Plains private game lodge mentioned in this book are fictitious, but bear strong similarities to real places. Nicola and I now own a house (as well as our trusty Land Rover) in a place similar to Hippo Rock and were generously hosted by people in several lodges in the Sabi Sand game reserve while researching this book. Thanks to our new neighbours for welcoming us and making us feel at home in Africa.
Deep thanks, too, go to Cameron and Tania McMurtrie, who made a generous donation to the Mother Africa Foundation to ship a container of books from Australia to schools in Zimbabwe. Cameron, I hope you enjoyed being the hero of the story; Tania, sorry!
As always my unpaid and forthright family of editors, wife Nicola, mum Kathy, and mother in law Sheila helped get the book to print and
for that, I thank them. Thanks, too, to my agent, Isobel Dixon, and my publisher and editor at Quercus Books, Jane Wood and Katie Gordon. Words can hardly express how lucky I am to be spending half my life in Africa doing what I love most.
And thank you – I couldn’t do it without you.
