“If you look carefully you can see that these tracks belong to three separate individuals. By examining the markings in detail you will actually make out the separate patterns.”
Ana and Harry were both peering at the ground, trying to look intelligent but failing rather badly. Kilifi read their faces as easily as the tracks and smiled. “Two of the men are wearing million milers and if you look really closely you will see that in fact they have been made from not two but four different tyres.”
Harry’s expression suddenly lightened with understanding but Ana still looked perplexed. “It seems so simple now that he has pointed it out,” he said, turning to her. “Many poorer people have their sandals made from old car tyres. They are cut, still with the bend of the tyre on, and then two simple canvas straps are attached across the top, you slip your foot between the two and off you go. The feeling is that they will never wear out, hence the name.”
They all bent down looking at the individual tread marks in the ground and could just make out the subtle differences between them.
“The third set are certainly unusual,” continued Kilifi. “My guess is they are hand-made boots of some sort, they have flat leather soles with no form of recognised manufacturing pattern.”
“What do you suggest we do now Kilifi?” asked Jim. “You are the expert; we are in your hands.”
“Well, we will need to go down this side of the escarpment, which is where these men have come from. You can see which way they were walking because the tread is a little clearer where their heel is, as that is the heaviest part of your footfall. However, just at the moment it is probably even more important to see where these tracks head. They are very recent; they have to have been made after yesterday’s storm. We need to find out who they are and just what they were up to.”
They all followed the hunched figure and even to the least skilled the million miler prints, in particular, were still visible, although much more difficult to identify on the hard track itself where they left little imprint. The road took a slight dip and within fifty metres Kilifi had stopped again.
He was down on his knees examining the ground almost scientifically. His face frowned in concentration, the eyes around the deep crow’s feet peering intently at everything. He licked his fingers and rubbed them on the hard surface, then held them up to his nose as his eyes narrowed even further. Then he suddenly stepped back, almost as though he had been bitten. Nobody spoke as Kilifi stood stock still, making sense of the clues he had uncovered.
“I am afraid none of what I have to say is good news,” he sighed. “Of course I can’t be sure of everything but some of what I have seen can’t be argued with. Last night the three poachers, for that is unquestionably what they were, stopped here for a rest and put down the tusks they were carrying. There are two vague semicircle marks here and just to the centre of one are some small traces of flesh. So I am pretty sure this is where they leant two freshly poached tusks and some of the gore from the right hand one rubbed off onto the track.”
There was a stunned silence. “Are you sure?” asked Jim, knowing the answer almost before he asked the question.
“I’m afraid so,” came the heavy reply, “but there is something else you need to know. They met a fourth man on this spot. You might not be able to make it out that clearly but to me the prints are obvious. This is a man who drags one foot slightly as he walks. Our Somali is back!”
Nobody spoke. This was a man they hardly knew and yet the knowledge they did have was enough to fill them with both anger and dread.
“Well, at least we know what we are up against,” said Jim. “I will get in touch with KWS once we return camp. Men like this have one real weakness; they think they are untouchable. Well, we are going to prove otherwise.”
As Ana looked at him she had no doubt that somehow they would get their man. The line of his mouth and the hardness in those normally kind eyes radiated purpose.
“We have one of those horrible choices now. Do we follow the tracks in front of us in the hope of catching up with them or head back down where they came from? My gut feeling that by doing that we are more likely to find the answer to Samson’s disappearance.”
Everyone waited silently for Jim to come to a decision. “Right, Kilifi, I’d like you to push on after these bastards with two of the rangers. If you spot them, even in the distance, don’t take them on, but radio me back immediately. Matwapa, you’re a great tracker too so you stay with us and we’ll follow the trail back down the side of the slope and see what we can find.”
Once they were off the road it was easier to follow the poachers’ tracks than Harry had anticipated. They had been far from subtle in making their way to their meeting with the Somali and Matwapa barely paused, broken foliage often marking the way they had come.
Suddenly he was pointing up, rather than looking down and the others all saw the ominous signs of circling vultures. Their huge wings outstretched, individual feathers on the tips silhouetted against the light of the morning sky.
“Vultures mean only one thing,” said Jim as he looked across at Ana. “They have that amazing knack of knowing when an animal is dead and before you know it, there they are, ready for the cleanup. Actually I have amazing respect for them. They may not look too attractive on the ground but they are majestic in the air and believe it or not just like the elephant we are bound to find, they too are under threat. What are we doing to this beautiful land?”
Ana didn’t respond, she knew he hadn’t expected an answer. She realised that in his final question he was simply speaking his thoughts aloud. She could see the pain in his expression and knew that to him these weren’t just creatures to be protected and nurtured; it was almost as though they were part of his family.
They scrambled down the last steep part of the slope, loose stones from their descent rattling down in front of them. The small clearing they found themselves in displayed evidence that a number of elephants had been there. One of the trees had actually been pushed right over and on others it was easy to see where the tusks had ripped off the bark.
To one side of the clearing was a small waterhole. “Look,” said Jim you can see where they have been digging up the salts in the ground round that hole. I didn’t even know this place existed, how on earth the poachers found their way here is a mystery.”
Matwapa was signalling to them from the far side and as they moved across it was instantly obvious what he had found. Lying on his side was a single elephant, back legs splayed out behind him.
As they approached the body Harry braced himself, seeing a dead elephant was bad enough but the brutality involved in gouging out the tusks was something else. The trunk was lying forlornly on its own as he had expected but as he looked at the face itself he felt almost instantly light-headed. There was no evidence of the vicious axe blows he has witnessed in the past, this was revoltingly clinical instead.
Even before he voiced his thoughts Jim exclaimed, “Oh my God, it looks like they have used a chainsaw here. That would explain why Kilifi saw the prints of neat semicircles where the poachers had rested and put the base of the tusks on the ground. It looks like we are up against an even more organised enemy than I had thought.”
“I think you are right,” said Matwapa. “If you look at the elephant’s side you will see just two bullet wounds. Whoever shot this animal was no amateur. These were shots directly to the heart by someone who knew just what they were doing. I’m sure this will be the man with the leather boots.”
“That brings a really concerning new aspect to protecting our elephants,” sighed Jim. “If they have recruited some form of professional hunter; who is he and where did he come from?”
“What is even stranger,” chipped in Harry, “is what is he doing with the Somali? This couldn’t be more different from the way his poachers were operating before. And also how does he have the knowledge to track this poor elephant to a remote waterhole and an unknown salt lick?”
Ana looked down a
t the young elephant, “I have been doing a little journalistic research recently. I know China has banned legal ivory imports, which is a huge step in the right direction but the illegal trade in wildlife is still massive. It’s worth billions of dollars a year and now the same criminal gangs that deal with drug and people trafficking are moving into ivory, rhino horn, animal skins and anything else they can get their hands on. I know there are few big elephants left now but the tusks from a single one could be worth a hundred thousand dollars. That’s megabucks by anybody’s standards. So it seems as though we are dealing with professional criminals here and yes they might well be linked in with Somali terrorists but they might just be out for the biggest profit they can make.”
She looked round at the others, “Sorry I didn’t want to bore you. There’s lots of interesting stuff I have found out about but this is hardly the time for me to be lecturing you, I just thought it might give a different angle to what we have discovered here.”
Jim smiled weakly, “You are far from boring. Everyone has different talents and the best way to try to defeat this dreadful crime is for us all to use those to the full. Sometimes I get too bogged down with what’s happening here and rather forget the bigger picture.”
“Talking of a bigger picture, Ollie is due to fly in with some more guests later this morning. Can I suggest that we see whether his company might lend him to us for an hour or so again? We will gain a far better idea of possible danger points and anything suspicious from the air. There is nobody who knows Uwingoni better than Kilifi and I would like to think I have got the youngest and sharpest eyesight. If the two of us were to crisscross the reserve from the air I…”
Harry stopped, drawn by the large smile on Jim’s face. “Give Kilifi a lion or leopard to track any day but don’t ask him to go up in one of those little planes. He often tells me that if the gods had wanted us to fly they would have given us wings.”
They all chuckled. “Nevertheless, I think your idea is a good one Harry. I will radio through to Ollie’s boss. I am sure in the circumstances he will be happy to help. Talking of Kilifi, let’s see what news there is from his end.”
He listened intently to the radio and everyone waited eagerly for news. “It seems the four poachers cut off into the bush a couple of miles further down. I know the area vaguely. It’s very thickly wooded, you could hide a small army in there! Far too dangerous for Kilifi and the others to continue so I’ve told them to come back and we’ll meet again on the main track.”
Jim let his glance skirt round the clearing once more and was suddenly aware that there was no sign of Ana. He was just about to ask Harry where she was when there was a shout from the far side. Immediately on edge he reached down towards his well-worn rifle. Matwapa too was instantly alert, his weapon at the ready.
Ana’s voice rose through the bushes, more urgent this time. “Please I need help now, it’s Samson.”
The others rushed towards the area of low-lying shrub and there, not twenty metres in, was Ana kneeling next to a figure at the base of a tree.
“Has someone got a knife? His hands have been tied together round the back of the tree.”
Harry took the Leatherman from the pouch on his belt. It contained a number of different tools including a sharp blade. The rope was surprisingly stubborn, not only tough but wet from the previous night’s downpour. Eventually the last strands parted and Samson’s body slumped forwards.
Ana cradled his head on her lap. “Someone give me some water.”
Matwapa handed her a bottle and she poured a little gently into his half-open mouth. Almost immediately his body was convulsed with a fit of coughing and his eyes flickered open, wide and confused but as they focused on those round him his whole manner visibly relaxed.
“Try some more water. You might like to take the bottle yourself.”
Shakily he took the water from her hand and gulped down a few mouthfuls. The change was almost instantaneous and he sat up rubbing his wrists as though trying to get some blood flow back into his hands.
“You’ve got a massive bump on the back of your head but it looks like you’ll live,” she smiled reassuringly. “Just take your time.”
With a little help Samson got groggily to his feet.
“Are you up to telling us what happened?” asked Jim.
“Well, a few hours after Bethwell dropped me off yesterday I was walking along the top track when that very distinctive sound of a small herd of elephants enjoying themselves came drifting up from below. The tree cover is so dense that I decided to make my way down to investigate and came across this clearing where they were busy digging up the ground looking for all those minerals. They seemed very unconcerned by my presence and I suppose I lost myself a little in the magic of the moment.”
Samson paused for a few more sips of water and taking a deep breath continued. “Suddenly out of the corner of my eye I saw two men on the far side who were obviously nothing to do with Uwingoni or KWS. I challenged them and the herd suddenly became very agitated and made off into the trees right across my path. In the noise and confusion I was totally unaware that there must have been a third man behind me. Before I could react there was a massive blow to the back of my head. I must have been unconscious for some time and when I came round I was tied to the tree and the dead elephant was where you see him now.”
“Did you learn anything more about these men?” inquired Jim.
“Oh yes.” Samson’s normally easy-going expression was instantly full of loathing. “All were dressed in army type camouflage kit, two were obviously Somali but it was the third one who was in charge, who had a rifle rather than an AK-47. Certainly wasn’t from anywhere round here but South Africa, Namibia, Zimbabwe maybe, his accent was from that region. It was his idea to leave me tied up here. They thought it would be much funnier than killing me straight away and joked about the hyenas and lions being drawn to the elephant carcass and finding me as a tasty snack on the side. However, luck was obviously on my side, especially with the storm. I drifted in and out of consciousness during the night and the first thing I was really aware of was Ana’s voice somehow making it through the throbbing pain in my head.”
“Thank you Samson. Each new thing I hear about these people makes me more and more determined that when we catch up with them, any form of mercy will be the last thing on our minds. We will stamp the life out of this organisation. Now we need to get you back to camp. Sadly there is nothing more we can do here.”
There were two couples from the UK on board the Cessna, saving themselves six hours of slow grind on the Kenyan roads by taking a flight that took a mere seventy-five minutes.
After they had clambered out of the narrow doorway and been whisked off to lunch by Bethwell, Ollie greeted Harry and Ana with his usual cheerful positivity.
“I gather I’m taking you for a quick flight over Uwingoni, or so my boss says. Happy to help out as always but even in a plane it’s quite a large area so you need to give me a good idea of where in particular you want to look.”
“Of course. Ana why don’t you sit in the other pilot’s seat and I’ll slot in behind you guys. There is lots of room back here.”
The doors were shut and the engine, warm that it was, started instantly. Ollie pushed the throttle forward and the little plane bounded down the strip. “We’ll be airborne in just a sec,” said Ollie. “With three rather than six of us she cannot wait to be off the ground.”
“The open savannah areas down in this part of the reserve are not a problem but once we are up on the escarpment it is much more remote and the tree and vegetation cover is thick so if you don’t mind Ollie I think we should look there first.”
“Your shout Harry.” Ollie pulled back on the stick and adjusted the throttle. Below them the little tracks were no more than ribbons and they were able to make out small clusters of animals grazing peacefully, unconcerned by the engine noise hundreds of feet above. “I’m going to level off soon but I’m reluctant to get too low.
If anything were to happen, there isn’t exactly anywhere we can land up here.”
The midday sun made it extremely warm in the cockpit and the plane seemed to dance over the tops of the trees, dipping and rising every so often as it caught small air pockets.
Ana marvelled at the sheer size of the reserve; and how being so remote gave it a timelessness that was hard to put into words.
“We are nearing the area where that steep dip in the road is. It is down the slope to the left that we found the elephant earlier today.” The circling buzzards and vultures pinpointed the position precisely.
“If you don’t mind I’m not going to take the plane down there. Get one of those in the engine and we would be joining your elephant!”
They flew on until the road began to level off. “Look to the left down there boys, are my eyes playing tricks on me or are those fresh tyre marks?”
“I didn’t get a proper look Ana. Give me a sec and we’ll go round again.” Ollie banked the plane steeply to port focusing on a tight manoeuvre.
“Good spot. I was looking on the other side but I agree. Let’s wait until Ollie has the plane level again.” The track marks were feint but they were definitely there, leading unerringly to the boundary of the reserve. “Can we follow them as far as we can Ollie?”
“Of course Harry. I expect they will come and go as there are some thickly wooded areas down here if I remember, but it shouldn’t be too difficult. Do you know what I find most surprising is that apart from some obvious steep rocky areas this track hardly deviates so when they were coming in how on earth did they know where to go?”
“I was thinking much the same,” responded Ollie. “Even Jim had no idea there was a salt lick down where the young bull was killed. You know that once elephants find something like that they will endlessly be drawn back to the same spot and that is a huge worry for the future. We haven’t really got the manpower to have a ranger patrolling just that area, especially as our enemy could strike somewhere else.”
Tusker Page 15
