An African Heart - Rhino

source please vote at
https://steemit.com/writing/@whitedolphin/an-african-heart-by-chiara-marrapodi

The edge of the tent flapped intermittently as the breeze rushed up from the river bank. I turned over and felt the hardness of the frame beneath me, my left arm falling over the edge of the camping stretcher. I heard the distinctive cape turtle dove in the distance cooing. I drifted off, conjuring up distant memories of childhood in the dusty suburbs of Africa. I could see myself barefoot among the shade of the mulberry trees, grasping the sweetness above. Dancing from branch to branch my toes squelched the purple carpet of fallen fruit. Someone was calling me, I fought this voice, savoring this reverie. The voice became louder, I was aware of a great heaviness, a tugging....
‘Olivia, Olivia, Oliiiivviia, we have to get up!’, shouted Regina.
‘Huh? Wait, wait! ’ I mumbled.
‘Olivia its 4am, its time,’ she replied.
‘I just got to sleep, all that buzzing and rustling,’ Regina glanced at me and hurriedly left thetent. I rolled over shrugging my shoulders, my eyes felt like they were glued shut. Finally, I sat up,my eyelids heavy, mental fogginess surrounded me like a misty winter morning back in London. I looked around and remembered: I was in a tent in the middle of nowhere surrounded by the African bush, over-looking the mighty Zambezi river. The outside sounds greeted me; crickets sang unenchanted by the family domestic breaking out among the baboons nearby. Their screaming and barking rants echoed though the velvet darkness. Hippopotamus’ splashed grumpily in the water, grunting at this rude awakening. I took a deep breath and looked out into the African bush, it was pitch black. I rushed to the open air bathroom. It was surrounded by a green tarpaulin. We had taken turns during the night checking for hyena’s, our torches flitting in all directions like guards of the apocalypse. Among African beasts they were unpredictable opportunists; possessing the most powerful jaws in Africa yet were cowardly characters. The problem was in a group they were dangerous, their eery, laughing bark reminiscent of an evil figure lurking in the shadows waiting to sneak up on you when you least expected it.

The shower was a bush-veld invention made from a bottomless bucket with a shower head affixed to replace the void. As I lathered my body, I gratefully took the luke warm water and poured it into the bush-veld invention - the water came down in steady crystal streams. Closing my eyes I relished cleansing the accumulated nano particles of dust off my skin. As I opened my eyes sparkling diamonds twinkled above in the African sky. My heart warmed, I was in familiar territory, I was home. I felt the coolness of the air on my wet skin as the bush-veld invention coughed the last of its crystal collection. That was the thing with the bush, it was hot during the day and cold at night. Blackness enveloped it like a blanket of darkness sucking any warmth showered by the day gods. The contrast was uncanny.

‘Ya, remember” ordered Pieter as he slung his rifle over his right shoulder “listen to my instructions and keep your eyes peeled, this is the African bush and there are some dangerous animals out there. Keep silent and don’t fall behind.” Pieter Mbambala was our bulky, safari guide. As I watched his movements, I got the impression he was a typical macho man, confident on the outside but dreadfully insecure. His gruff voice, echoed back to me as I patted my beloved digital camera, what would I do without you I pondered. Regina and I had been on many expeditions for International Geoconservation Magazine over the years, we knew each other well. She was a travel writer and I a photographer, this was her first time in Africa. I was a veteran.

Following the elephant path, they were surrounded by golden fields of tall grass. In the distance, a herd of beige impala with their heart shaped horns grazed lazily. The alpha male positioning his wet snout up in the air, searching for any whiffs of predators. Olivia was behind, intrigued by the natural world she had left behind all those years ago. A world of infinite beauty, her lens poised as she pushed hard on the shutter. Those familiar smells flashing nostalgic childhood memories of her time learning the ways of the bush. She had been the best at tracking wildlife and bush survival skills. Africa was under her skin, it ran through her blood. Regina took a deep breath in, her eyes wild with excitement. A newborn in the ways of the bush. Her pen scratched her notepad furiously as she plotted her thoughts.

Pieter stopped in his tracks, his rifle in firing position, Regina and Olivia complied like little soldiers. Voices shouted ahead, grass rustled, the sound of armed fire, a deathly scream, then a thud! The ground shook, the impala scattered in all directions like tiny pieces of glass shattering on the floor, hooting their emergency call.
The bush paused, a thick, deathly pause. Time stood still.
‘Get it down! What are you doing? I can smell the money already. They said they wanted it whole,’ echoed through the air in a thick African accent. Pieter motioned for silence, the girls took cover in the golden grass, the sun high in the azure sky, hearts pounding, breaths short. Olivia knew what this was. The voices came to life again laughing and joking.
‘Good work man, good work, bastard thing, it’s still alive.’
Regina gave a furtive glance over her shoulder, Olivia’s eyes were screwed up in anger, it was palpable, bubbling beneath her skin. The hacking of a machete hitting a hard object filled the deathly air. A faint sanguine odor hovered over the pack like a death cloud. Her anger turned to deep sadness as tears ran down Olivia’s cheeks. She loved wildlife and the bush. Olivia’s camera had slid down her shoulder and as she fumbled to regain composure it fell hard to the ground.
Pieter glanced at her, his eyes narrowed. The hacking stopped, the jokes stopped. Pieter motioned for them, to move back. Bellies on the ground, the girls crawled towards the thicket behind.
‘Did you hear thet?’
‘Ya, I will go and check it out.’
Olivia motioned for Pieter to join them in the thicket but it was too late, he knew if he moved the poachers would find them all. His heart was pounding, beads of sweat ran down is forehead. He lay silent on his back, flat on the ground. His rifle was cocked and ready. The girls covered their mouths in an effort to beckon silence.

The shot reverberated in the golden clearing. Regina’s hands covering the ringing in her ears. Olivia feverishly pressing the shutter. The poacher fell to the ground. ‘Farai! You bredy bastard!’ shouted the remaining poacher. He gathered his rifle and came running to his brother’s side. Pieter took a shot but missed the dark skinned man lunging towards him, a swirl of dust and blood.
‘You bastard, I will show you, I will show you!’ The poacher was high, “chamba” was his friend, his eyes bloodshot with its consumption. He hit the side of Pieter’s face with the butt of his rifle. Pieter fell backwards, blood tricking down his cheek, his rifle flying threw the air and out of sight.
‘So now you bredy bastard, what are you going to do huh? You kill my brother, I kill you’.
‘Look I am sorry about your brother, I was afraid for my life. Each syllable uttered with the breath of fear.
"Lets forget all about his I can pay you and we don’t have to tell anybody about this.’
‘Ahh, you think its so easy heh, you people always think you can treat us like shit.’
‘No, no, no, look I am really sorry about your brother, my finger slipped, I got scared, let’s talk.’
‘Nothing to talk about you die or help me to cut that horn off that rhino!’ he ordered, a mad look in his eyes. Pieter’s face dropped, his whole identity was conservation, he had formed the Rhino Survival campaign three years ago to help bring new life to the bush. Giving the poachers skills that gave them a sense of worth, an income and preserving wildlife.
‘Ok, ok, I will help you.’ The poacher motioned Pieter to get up and walk towards the carcass.
‘You can hack with machete and I will watch.......move!’
Pieter moved towards the carcass. He was stunned, swirling in a surreal dream. He could hear the flies, their tiny wings buzzing around the flesh. As he looked up to the sky he saw the vultures swirling in circles as they did when death had arrived. As he picked up the machete he turned to look at the poacher his eyes filled with fiery anger.
‘What are you waiting for, cut it’ he said, threatening Pieter with the rifle.
‘Ok, can we kill the animal properly first then I can start?’. Pieter’s heart was heavy, he adored rhino’s, his idealistic dreams seemed to fall all around him as he watched the animals eyes opaque, moving but already dull, its great body heaving with each breath.
‘No, use the machete.’ Pieter’s shoulders dropped in despair, silently asking the rhino for forgiveness. As he picked up the machete the flies swirled around him like a raging tornado, tears warming his cheeks. The poacher was laughing.
‘Come on, bastard.’
Pieter felt cold, numb, cold. He couldn’t look the animal in the eye as he hacked the horn. Half an hour passed, and the animal had breathed its last breath.
‘You are coming with me, I remember you, you are that Rhino guy, yeeeessss, I remember now.’ The poacher’s white teeth visible as he laughed madly at this revelation. He took out a long rolled “chamba” and lit it. The sweet smell of marijuana filled the girls nostrils. They were silent deep in the thicket.
‘Look, I helped you cut the horn, let’s leave it now.’
‘You killed Farai, you are going to pay, I think my leader will be verry happy to teach you people a lesson, especially one that helps put us out of business.’
‘Look you got what you wanted, now let me go!’ exclaimed Pieter, his left temple pulsing.
‘Ok I kill you now? Move!’
‘Ok, ok, ok, I will come,’ exclaimed Pieter lifting his hands over his head. He knew the poacher’s kind, he had worked so hard to transform this mentality. It was a hard road. There was too much money involved and only a few had made the transition and the rhino numbers were dwindling - and fast. How would he get out of this situation. He was despised by all the poacher rings. He felt the cloud of doom hover over his head. It would be night in a few hours. The poacher gathered the rhino horn and put in a plastic bag.
‘Let’s go.‘ They sauntered deep into the clearing. As they made their way through the tall golden grass their figures blended into the mirage over the horizon. Regina and Olivia were silent. Stunned by the events they had witnessed. Cut and bruised they were alone, alone in the vastness of the African plains.

‘Olivia, what are we going to do?’ whimpered Regina.
‘Give me your binoculars,’ I motioned to Regina. My bush school days came flooding back. I felt strange like my brain had changed gears, I was fully alert and knew exactly what to do. It had been years ago that I had learnt the ways of the bush, tracking game and surviving in the African plains. I walked to the mopani tree nearby and climbed its lowest branches. As I looked through the binoculars I checked to see if the figures were still visible, they had disappeared. I saw the bloodied Rhino carcass, its head deformed. The vultures had landed and were pecking at its tough hide. I took in the 360 degree panoramic view making sure there were no other surprises and resolved it was safe to continue. As I looked East I saw Pieter’s rifle.
‘Let’s get Pieter’s rifle then we retrace our steps to the canoes and paddle down the river back to the camp. Pieter tied flagging tape along our route so it should be easy to find our way back to the shore. It should take us about one hour to get to the canoes and another two to get to the camp,’ I muttered looking at my wrist watch.
‘Let’s go.’ Rifle in hand, we silently walked along the elephant path the way we had come, impala were no where to be seen. The bush was still. I could see one of the canoes had broken away from the bank, drifting downstream. Now there was only one. The river was calm with little resistance against the oars slicing through it’s surface. A gentle breeze touched my cheek and for a moment our predicament disappeared, the fear, the uncertainty drifted away. I heard a loud grunting roar and gushing water. The canoe rocked from side to side, water rushing in. The cacophony of sounds shrill in my ears as I tried to right the canoe. A second rush of water and a fervent ambush. A blubbery body came to a sudden halt as the canoe hit a sand bank. The ivory canines of a bull hippopotamus in plain sight. Out of all the African mammals these were the most savage of river creatures. My heart was pounding, adrenalin rushing through my veins.
‘Regina, paddle, hard to the bank!‘ I ordered.

The hippopotamus disappeared beneath the bubbling molecules. We reached the bank, pulling the canoe onto hard ground. I felt the sweat running down my back. 'Relief'.....my feet were on dry soil. The rifle was wet, it was useless now. I threw it in the shrubs nearby. As I looked back at the river, the hippopotamus’ head rose above the water’s surface, ears flicking. It’s beady eyes watching us, its territory regained.
‘Olivia are we going to be ok?’ I looked at Regina, feigning a smile.
‘Yes, lets start walking, if we follow the river we will find the camp. How much water do we have left?‘ I checked the bottle, we had a half left.
We walked for two hours, the sun had set in the West. It was twilight and crickets had begun began singing. I knew the creatures of the night would be out soon. The deep roar of a lion filled our ear drums. I knew it was far away, it was too faint to be anywhere close. I lit my torch, Regina looked at me, despair in her eyes. I motioned to move on, what else could we do? We walked in silence for what seemed an age.

At first I thought it was a slight breeze rustling the leaves, but then I could not be sure. I licked my index finger and put it up in the air. The air was still and heavy. I frowned, stopped, turned around and there behind us were two reflecting eyes, white, lucid. My throat was dry. As my eyes adjusted I could see the spotted hyena looking at us, its head swaying side to side. Where there was one there would be others.
‘It won’t come close if we throw something at it.’ I threw a stone hitting its flank. It whimpered and slunk into the shadows. I knew that would not be the end of this uninvited guest. The bush was black, the cold penetrating our bones. The hours passed, my legs weary, the torch began to dim a little. I was tired and dirty. I thought about Pieter and what might have happened to him, a shiver down my spine.
‘There is a light, there is a light!’ announced Regina, running ahead. I jerked her back towards me.
‘Don’t run, you never run when an animal is stalking you.’ Regina glanced behind us, the soft patter of the four legged beast had quickened. There it was ... the light..... We were found. The hyena retreated, we fell near the fire in a heap. Now we had to get Pieter back.
The End

(Some of this story is based on actual events. This creative story was written to bring the plight of the wild African rhino and it's need for conservation to light).
Photo Source: www.freedigitalfotos.net