Danger in the Dust by Sally Grindley

Chapter 1
    ‘Can you believe that the number of black rhinos in Kenya fell from 20,000 to only 381 between the 1970s and 1990s?’
    Peter Brook watched for his family’s reaction as they sat around the kitchen table after enjoying a late Sunday breakfast. He had just told his children, Joe and Aesha, that they would be spending their Easter holidays in East Africa, where he had been asked to photograph the release of black rhinos back into the wild in Kenya.
    ‘That’s awful, Dad!’ said Aesha, whose reaction changed from excitement at the prospect of going to Africa to shock at the dramatic decline in the rhino population. ‘Why?’
    ‘It’s mostly because of poaching,’ Binti, her mother, replied. ‘Rhino horn is prized in some societies for its apparent healing properties.’
    Joe was indignant. ‘I can’t believe rhinos are being killed because some people think their horns will heal them.’
    ‘Poachers make a lot of money from selling the horn,’ Peter explained.
    ‘The outlook for rhinos is better than it was, and their numbers are increasing,’ said Binti. ‘The fact that some rhinos are being released back into the wild is a success story. They’ve been confined to fenced sanctuaries and monitored there, but it was always the aim to return them to their former homes, provided it was safe to do so.’
    ‘But won’t the poachers kill the rhinos that are released?’ Joe asked.
    ‘Wherever rhinos are, they’re never one hundred per cent safe, even in the sanctuaries,’ Binti replied. ‘But there are many more anti-poaching patrols operating now and poachers are dealt with much more harshly. Everyone is praying that the released rhinos won’t just survive but will thrive.’
    ‘Baby rhinos are cute,’ said Joe. ‘And the adults are cool too. I think it’s because they look sort of prehistoric – like dinosaurs.’
    ‘They look grumpy to me,’ observed Aesha. ‘I prefer elephants. Will we be able to see elephants when we’re in Africa?’
    ‘If my princess wants to see elephants, then elephants she shall see,’ said Peter. ‘I’ll have them line up and trumpet for you.’
    ‘That’s not very funny, Dad.’ Aesha groaned.
    ‘Are we going on safari?’ Joe asked excitedly.
    ‘Absolutely!’ said Binti. ‘And we’ll be going to Tanzania to visit my family as well!’
    ‘Whoopee!’ said Joe.
    He had met his maternal grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins twice before, once when he was still a baby, and the second time when they had spent ten days in Tanzania three years ago when he was six. It was difficult for them to visit more often, because Tanzania was so far away and because his parents’ hectic work schedules left them with very little spare time. Peter was a wildlife photographer and Binti was an international vet, both of them in demand to work on conservation projects all over the world.
    Once in a while, Binti would sigh wistfully and say how much she missed her homeland. ‘I love my life in England, but I loved my life back home as well, especially the animals and the wide open spaces.’
    Joe remembered the swathes of grassland and the dusty roads and bustling towns, with Mount Kilimanjaro in the background, its peak capped with snow. They hadn’t gone on safari last time they were there because he was too young. Now he couldn’t wait for what he was sure would be a big adventure.
    ‘Will we be allowed to watch when they release the rhinos?’ he asked his father, who had just stood up from the table to rifle through the Sunday papers.
    ‘That I don’t know,’ said Peter. ‘Rhinos are dangerous animals when they’re upset – a bit like your mum when she gets out of the wrong side of the bed – and they might be upset after a bumpy trip confined in a truck.’
    ‘Cheeky!’ said Binti, standing up as well. ‘But if you want a dangerous animal, you shall have one. I don’t know how many times I’ve asked you all to tidy the garage, but if it isn’t done