Safari Survival

by J. Burchett

  WITH THANKS TO STELLA, STEVE, AMY AND TOIBY JELLISS FOR HAVING

  THE FORESIGHT TO TAKE A KENYAN HOLIDAY EIGHT YEARS AGO.

  FOR THE INTERNATIONAL ELEPHANT FOUNDATION - JIB & SV

  Wild Rescue: Safari Survival

  published in 2012 by

  Hardie Grant Egmont

  Ground Floor, Building 1, 658 Church Street

  Richmond, Victoria 3121, Australia

  www.hardiegrantegmont.com.au

  First published by Stripes Publishing

  1 The Coda Centre, 189 Munster Road

  London SW6 6AW

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored

  in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic,

  mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written

  permission of the publishers and copyright holders.

  A CiP record for this title is available from the

  National Library of Australia.

  eISBN: 9781742737775

  Text copyright © 2009 Jan Burchett and Sara Vogler

  Illustrations copyright © 2009 Dianne Le Feyer of Cartoon Saloon

  Cover illustration and design © 2012 Hardie Grant Egmont

  Cover illustration by Aki Fukuoka

  Cover design by Stephanie Spartels

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Take cover,” Ben hissed. “There’s someone coming.”

  His twin sister Zoe tried to dive aside, but it was too late. A shadowy figure, face hidden by a black mask, stepped out in front of her in the dark and held up its gun.

  Zap! With horror, Zoe saw a flash on her chest. She’d been hit.

  The stranger whipped off her mask and grinned.

  “Erika!” exclaimed Zoe. “What are you doing at Lasertrail?”

  “Trailing you two.” Erika grinned and turned off her gun. “Your godfather sent me.

  Wild has a new mission for you.”

  “Cool!” gasped Ben. “So we’re off to Wild HQ for our briefing, are we?”

  “No time for that,” said Erika, guiding them to the exit. “We’re going straight to Africa. My car’s outside to take us to the plane. I’ve told your gran about your mission so she won’t be expecting you home today.”

  Ben and Zoe looked at each other in excitement. Ever since their eccentric godfather, Dr Stephen Fisher, had recruited them into Wild, they’d found themselves being whizzed all over the world. Not many eleven-year-olds could say they were operatives for a top-secret organisation dedicated to saving animals in danger.

  Their parents were vets who were currently working abroad. They thought Ben and Zoe were safe at home enjoying their summer holiday with their grandmother, and had no idea their children travelled the world saving animals, just like their mum and dad!

  “This must be a really urgent mission,” said Ben, as they sped along a deserted country lane. “What’s it all about?”

  “You’ll find out once we’re airborne,” Erika said. “You know Dr Fisher likes to explain things himself.”

  A small airstrip came into view. Erika drove the car straight into a battered barn, where an ordinary-looking private jet was waiting. They scrambled aboard and Erika began the pre-flight checks.

  “I’m glad Uncle Stephen’s made the plane out of recycled stuff,” said Zoe, holding her nose as the engine fired up, “but I wish the fuel wasn’t chicken poo and egg yolks. I’ll never get used to the smell.”

  They soared into the sky and were soon out over the sea.

  “What’s our mission then?” asked Ben.

  Erika flicked a switch.

  A shimmering hologram appeared in the air. It was their godfather, his usual straw hat perched on top of his spiky red hair.

  “Greetings, godchildren,” he said. “If you press the red button on the console in front of you, you’ll find a clue to your task. And it’s a big clue. Get in touch when you’ve worked out which animal it comes from.”

  And with that the hologram disappeared.

  Zoe pressed the button and a small compartment opened up to reveal a glass eyeball.

  Ben and Zoe studied it.

  The iris was golden brown with a round black pupil.

  “Uncle Stephen said it was a big clue,” said Zoe, puzzled, “but this isn’t an enormous eyeball. I wonder what he meant. Let’s think…Africa.”

  “Lion, leopard, wildebeest,” muttered Ben, turning the eye over in his hand. “Wait a minute. It’s simple. He means the biggest animal.” He flicked a switch next to the speaker that connected to Wild HQ. “Are you there, Uncle Stephen?”

  “Receiving you loud and clear,” replied Dr Fisher. “Have you cracked the puzzle already?”

  “It’s an elephant,” said Ben, triumphantly.

  “Well done,” came their godfather’s voice. “African elephant. They’re bigger than the Indian ones and more dangerous.” He sounded grave. “James, here at Wild, has picked up a tweet from a charity worker out in Kenya. There’s a bull calf called Tomboi in trouble in the Samburu National Park. He has a wire snare round his leg and it could easily become infected. He and his mother are already starting to trail behind the herd.”

  “So our job is to find him,” said Zoe.

  “Absolutely,” said Uncle Stephen. “Then sedate the little chap, remove the snare and give him some antibiotics. That’s his only chance of recovery.”

  “There’s a veterinary kit stowed under your seat with your backpacks,” Erika told them.

  Ben grabbed the small canvas bag and examined the tranquilliser guns and medication bottles inside.

  “This is the sort of equipment that Mum and Dad have,” he said eagerly.

  “The tranquilliser guns are not just for Tomboi,” Erika told them. “You must have them at the ready whenever you’re out on your own. There are dangerous wild animals in Kenya.”

  Zoe opened her backpack.

  “Sleeping bag, food rations, binoculars, night-vision goggles – and of course my BUG,” she said, taking out the small gizmo that looked like a hand-held games console. “We couldn’t do without these.” She tapped some keys and brought up a satellite map. “Hey! This plane’s super fast. We’re over Italy already.”

  “One thing puzzles me, Uncle Stephen,” Ben said. “How did the snare get round Tomboi’s leg? Surely all animals are safe on wildlife reserves – and anyway, isn’t game hunting illegal in Kenya?”

  “It is,” came Dr Fisher’s voice. “I’m afraid we’ve stumbled upon a rather nasty business. Someone is hunting these elephants. People in the local village are saying that several elephant carcasses have been found.”

  “Were the elephants shot?” asked Zoe.

  “Yes,” said her godfather solemnly. “And then the heads were taken and the flesh cut from the bodies. Unusually, some were only youngsters.”

  “Gross!” exclaimed Ben.

  “That’s horrific,” said Zoe in disgust.

  “So you see how urgent this case is,” said Uncle Stephen. “We believe that, somehow, Tomboi’s injury is linked to the elephant slaughter. There were signs that at least one of the dead calves had been snared too.”

  “Why haven’t you told the authorities?” asked Zoe.

  “The Kenya Wildlife Service looks after a huge area and is very overworked. It can’t chase up ever
y lead without good evidence,” replied her godfather. “And so far all we have is carcasses. Of course we could tell them about Tomboi’s leg and they’d have him taken to the nearest animal hospital, but they might not be able to get to him straight away; and with the hunters at large he’d still be in danger when he returned to the wild.”

  “Although our first priority is to sort out his leg, we’ve decided on a rather risky plan,” Erika added. “Once you’ve treated Tomboi, you leave him and his mother where they are and try to find out who these hunters are.”

  “And try to get the evidence to put them in prison.” Their godfather paused. “Are you willing to take on this dangerous mission?”

  “Try and stop us!” declared Ben.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “We have to get to Tomboi before anything else happens to him,” gasped Zoe, after Uncle Stephen had signed off.

  “And find out who’s behind all this,” added Ben.

  “Your godfather has invented a new gizmo to help you gather information,” said Erika.

  She took out a small case from her pocket and tossed it to Zoe. Inside was a metallic disc about the size of a drawing pin.

  “It’s called an OWL,” Erika told them. “The Outstanding Watching and Listening device. It’s perfect for tracking any suspect. As soon as you press it on to the target it attaches itself with a blob of powerful glue. It contains a miniature camera and microphone. The images and sounds will be transmitted directly to your BUGs.”

  “That’s amazing,” said Zoe. “And it’s so tiny.”

  “Dr Fisher wants to give you a demonstration,” said Erika, tapping some keys to send a message. “Turn your BUGs to OWL mode.”

  Ben and Zoe scrolled through their menus to OWL and hit enter.

  At once the wobbly image of a high-tech computer suite flashed up on their screens.

  “That’s the Control Room in Wild HQ,” gasped Ben.

  “Welcome to the demonstration of my Outstanding Watching and Listening device,” came Uncle Stephen’s voice through their BUGs. “You should be seeing what I’m seeing – the Control Room in Wild HQ transmitted by the OWL attached to my hat! It may be a bit jerky as I’m walking around.”

  The picture swung round to show James studying some data, then the coffee machine and Dr Fisher’s desk, which was covered in a jumble of papers, wires and bits of metal.

  “Messy as ever!” said Ben. “I wonder what he’s inventing now?”

  “I expect you’re wondering what I’m inventing now,” said Dr Fisher. “It’s a work in progress. An automatic egg cracker which –”

  There was a muffled thump and the scene lurched sideways. The children could see under the desk now, a mass of discarded sweet wrappers and pen tops.

  Then the image spun to reveal their godfather’s face. He’d taken off his hat and was peering into the OWL. He looked pinkcheeked and his hair was standing on end.

  “Sorry about that!” He gave them a huge, beaming smile. “I tripped over my chair.”

  Ben grinned at Zoe. Their godfather was a brilliant man, but he won top prize for clumsiness!

  “Good luck with your mission,” boomed Uncle Stephen. “We’ll speak soon. Over and out. Well, it will be when you switch off the OWL function.”

  Ben and Zoe hit the exit button.

  “The OWL also sends a signal to the satellite map on your BUG screens,” said Erika. “If you turn to that now…”

  They did as she said and a world map appeared. A tiny red light was pulsing over the North Sea. When they zoomed in they saw it was pinpointed on Wild Island.

  “So it’s a tracker too,” said Zoe, impressed.

  “I’m going to find out all I can about the Samburu National Park,” said Ben, turning to the onboard computer and logging on to the internet. “It’s near the foothills of Mount Kenya. The tribe who live there are also called the Samburu.” He scrolled down. “It says here they keep an eye on the herd and take tourists out to see them. So we’ll be able to find out where Tomboi is. And we might pick up some info on the dead elephants.” He brought up another website and was soon engrossed in the information. “Elephants live to about seventy…Females and young live in herds…”

  “He’s safely on Planet Research!” Zoe said, turning to Erika. “Who do you think’s doing this to the elephants?” she asked. “Could it be ivory poachers?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Erika. “They’re taking the heads, that’s for sure, but ivory poachers only take the tusks – not the flesh. I’m wondering if we’ve stumbled upon some illegal bush meat trade.”

  “People eat elephants?” Zoe burst out. Erika nodded solemnly.

  “But why have they targeted Tomboi?” Zoe was puzzled. “There’s not much meat on a youngster.”

  “This is awful!” Ben suddenly shouted, his eyes fixed to the screen.

  Zoe felt sick when she saw the new website he was looking at – Hunting Holidays International.

  Men with guns stood proudly by the bloody corpses of tigers, lions, elephants, rhino and buffalo. Adverts down the sides of the web page encouraged the reader to have their trophy animal heads mounted on the finest teak and mahogany.

  “‘Come face to face with nature in the raw’,” read Zoe, struggling to get the words out. “‘Your friends will gasp at your bravery as you outwit the fiercest animals in the world.’”

  “It could be trophy hunters wanting the heads,” exclaimed Ben.

  Erika nodded. “It’s certainly a worthwhile line of enquiry. As hunting’s illegal in Kenya it couldn’t be done openly. But that doesn’t mean it’s not happening.”

  Zoe clicked through the photos on the hunting site. It was hard to look at the dead animals. The hunters beamed at the cameras as if they’d done something very clever.

  “The same faces keep coming up. Look at that smug bloke with cheeks like a bulldog and badges all over his hat. Frank Hall, President of the British Big Game Hunters Club. He says he’s shot animals on every continent.” She blinked away the sudden tears that sprang into her eyes. “I can’t bear to think of that happening to little Tomboi.”

  Ben flicked off the monitor, making the gruesome pictures disappear. “The minute we get to Kenya we’re going to start investigating. First stop – the Samburu village to find out what we can.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Ben and Zoe hurried across the flagstoned courtyard of the Amani Lodge. The hotel was deep in the Samburu National Park and boasted every luxury. A fountain sparkled in the bright afternoon sun and guests lounged around the swimming pool under thatched umbrellas, sipping drinks. Parrots squawked in the surrounding trees and, every now and then, black-faced monkeys darted across the floor in search of something to eat, until they were chased away by the waiters.

  “It makes a change staying somewhere this posh,” said Zoe, gazing around. “Look at all the rich tourists chilling out.”

  “We’ve got more important things to do,” said Ben. “Get a move on. The leaflet said the village tour leaves in three minutes.”

  Zoe quickened her pace. “I wonder how Erika’s getting on following up her lead.”

  They’d only just checked in at the lodge when a message had come from Wild headquarters that illegal bush meat was being sold in a town half a day’s drive away. Erika had gone speeding off in a hired jeep to see if it was linked to the slaughter of the elephants.

  “How could Erika be following up her lead?” said Ben in a mock questioning tone. “Our tutor’s ill in bed, remember?”

  “Of course!” Zoe grinned.

  They had concocted this story just in case anyone asked where their guardian was.

  They climbed some steps to a lawned garden. Here and there, gazelles grazed on the short cropped grass as if they were out on the plain.

  “This is such a beautiful place!” Zoe went on. “It’s hard to imagine that horrible things are happening to the elephants not so far away. I hope we can get some useful information from the Samburu. Whe
re did the leaflet say the trip to the village started from?”

  “Here at the north garden,” said Ben. “But I can’t see anyone.”

  A teenage boy in a green Amani Lodge uniform was weeding a flower bed.

  “Excuse me,” called Ben. The boy looked up and grinned. He wore a staff name badge with “Runo” on it. “Does the tour of the village leave from here?”

  “Yes,” said the boy. “It went two hours ago – at one o’clock.”

  “What?” gasped Zoe.

  Ben checked his watch and looked sheepish. “Oops! I forgot to change to Kenyan time.”

  “But we need to get to the village as soon as possible,” said Zoe, worried. The boy looked at her. “I mean, we were looking forward to going today.”

  Runo put down his trowel. “Can you ride a camel?” he asked, his eyes dancing with mischief.

  “No,” said Zoe.

  “Yes!” insisted Ben.

  Zoe glared at her brother. “We’ve never ridden camels in our lives,” she hissed.

  Ben shrugged. “We’re good horse riders. It can’t be that different.”

  “I can get you camels now,” said Runo.

  “Make trip to the village very fast.”

  “Great!” said Ben, getting out his wallet. “How much?”

  “Nothing,” said the boy. “But you will take package of kitchen leftovers to my grandfather for his goats. He lives there. His name is Wambua. You follow me.”

  “I thought you said this would be easy,” said Zoe, gripping tightly to the front of her camel’s saddle as her mount lurched from side to side. “It’s nothing like horse riding at all.”

  “Just hold the reins and keep it steady,” called Ben from his high perch. “Runo said the camels are very well trained. They often take tourists on rides to the village.”

  “I’m sure we weren’t meant to take them out without a handler,” said Zoe. “When we got to the camel compound, Runo was very secretive.”

  “It nearly wasn’t a secret after you let out that shriek!” said Ben.

  “I thought I was going to fall off when it got up rear end first,” protested Zoe.