mirth.
Hey, Mr. Morgan, Akkers giggled, don't forget your nails!
David swung round to face him, his face felt tight and hot, the
cicatrice that covered his cheeks and forehead were inflamed and the
dark blue eyes blazed with a terrible anger. He started up the steps.
His mouth was a pale hard slit, and his fists were clenched at his
sides.
Akkers stepped backwards swiftly and reached behind the shop counter. He
lifted out an old double-barrelled shotgun, and cocked both hammers with
a sweep of his thick bony thumb.
Self defence, Mr. Morgan, with witnesses, he giggled with sadistic
relish. Come one step closer and we will get a look at your guts also.
David paused at the top of the steps, and the gun held in one huge fist,
pointed at his belly.
David, hurry, oh, please hurry, Debra called anxiously from the
Land-Rover, with the weak squirming body of the pup in her lap.
We'll meet again, David's anger had thickened his tongue.
That will be fun, said Akkers, and David turned away and ran down the
steps.
Akkers watched the Land-Rover pull away and swing into the road in a
cloud of dust, before he set the shotgun aside. He went out into the
sunlight, and the baboon scrambled down from its pole and rushed to meet
him.
It jumped up on to his hip and clung to him like a child.
Akkers took a boiled sweet from his pocket and placed it tenderly
between the terrible yellow fangs.
You lovely old thing, he chuckled, scratching the high cranium with its
thick cap of grey fur and the baboon squinted up at his face with narrow
brown eyes, chattering softly.
Despite the rough surface, David covered the thirty miles back to
Jabulani in twenty-five minutes. He skidded the vehicle to a halt
beside the hangar, and ran with the pup in his arms to the aircraft.
During the flight Debra nursed him gently in her lap, and her skirts
were sodden with his dark blood. The pup had quieted, and except for an
occasional whimper now lay still. Over the W T David arranged for a car
to meet them at Nelspruit airfield and forty-five minutes after take-off
they had Zulu on the theatre table in the veterinary surgeon's clinic.
The veterinary surgeon worked with complete concentration for over two
hours at repairing the torn entrails and suturing the layers of
abdominal muscle.
The pup was so critically injured, and infection was such a real danger,
that they dared not return to Jabulani until it had passed. Five days
later when they flew home with Zulu still weak and heavily strapped but
out of danger, David altered his flight path to bring them in over the
trading store at Bandolier Hill.
The iron roof shone like a mirror in the sun, and David felt his anger
very cold and hard and determined.
The man is a threat to us, he said aloud. A real threat to each of us,
and to what we are trying to build at Jabulani. Debra nodded her
agreement, stroking the pup's head and not trusting herself to speak.
Her own anger was as fierce as David's. I'm going to get him, he said
softly, and he heard the Brig's voice in his memory.
The only excuse for violence is to protect that which belongs to you. He
banked steeply away and lined up for his approach to the landing-strip
at Jabulani.
Conrad Berg called again to sample the Old Buck gin, and to tell David
that his application to have Jabulani declared a private nature reserve
had been approved by the Board and that the necessary documentation
would soon be ready for signature. Do you want me to pull the fence out
now. 'No, David answered grimly. Let it stand. I don't want Akkers
frightened off. Ja, Conrad agreed heavily. We have got to get him. He
called Zulu to him and examined the scar that was ridged and shaped like
forked lightning across the pup's belly. The bastard, 'he muttered, and
then glanced guiltily at Debra.
Sorry, Mrs. Morgan. I I couldn't agree more, Mr. Berg, she said softly,
and Zulu watched her lips attentively when she spoke, his head cocked to
one side.
Like all young things, he had healed cleanly and quickly.
The morula grove that ran thickly along the base of
the hills about the String of Pearls came -into flower.
The holes were straight and sturdy, each crowned with a fully rounded,
many-branched head of dense foliage, and the red flowers made a royal
show.
Almost daily David and Debra would wander together through the groves,
down the rude track to the pools, and Zulu regained his strength on
these leisurely strolls which always culminated in a swim and a lusty
shaking off of water droplets, usually on to the nearest bystander.
Then the green plum-shaped fruits that covered the female marulas
thickly began to turn yellow as they ripened, and their yeasty smell was
heavy on the warm evening breeze.
The herd came up from the Sabi, forsaking the lush reed beds for the
promise of the morula harvest. They were led by two old bulls, who for
forty years had made the annual pilgrimage to the String of Pearls, and
there were fifteen breeding cows with calves running at heel and as many
adolescents.
They moved up slowly from the south, feeding spread out, sailing like
ghostly grey galleons through the open bush, overloaded bellies
rumbling. Occasionally a tall tree would catch the attention of one of
the bulls and he would place his forehead upon the thick trunk and,
swaying rhythmically as he built up momentum, he would strain suddenly
and bring it crackling and crashing down. A few mouthfuls of the tender
tip leaves would satisfy him, or he might strip the bark and stuff it
Untidily into his mouth before moving on northwards.
When they reached Conrad Berg's fence the two bulls moved forward and
examined it, standing shoulder to shoulder as though in consultation,
fanning their great grey ears, and every few minutes picking up a large
pinch of sand in their trunks to throw over their own backs against the
worrisome attention of the stinging flies.
In forty years they had travelled, and knew exactly all the boundaries
of their reserve. As they stood there contemplating the game fence, it
was as though they were fully aware that its destruction would be a
criminal act, and injurious to their reputations and good standing.
Conrad Berg was deadly serious when he discussed his elephants sense of
right and wrong with David. He spoke of them like schoolboys who had to
be placed on good behaviour, and disciplined when they transgressed.
The Discipline might take the form of driving, darting with drugs, or
formal execution with a heavy rifle. This ultimate punishment was
reserved for the incorrigibles who raided cultivated crops, chased
motor-cars or otherwise endangered human life.
Sorely tempted, the two old bulls left the fence and ambled back to the
breeding herd that waited patiently for their decision amongst the thorn
trees. For three days the herd drifted back and forth along the fence,
feeding and resting and waiting, then suddenly the wind turned westerly
and it came to them laden with the thick, cloyingly sweet smell of the
morula berries.
David parked the Land-Rover on the firebreak road and laughed with
delight.
So much for Connie's fence! " For reasons of pachyderm prestige, or
perhaps merely for the mischievous delight of destruction, no adult
elephant would accept the breach made by another.
Each of them had selected his own fence pole, hard wood uprights
embedded in concrete, and had effortlessly snapped it off level with the