Stalking Ivory by Suzanne Arruda Page A

gotten her way. Beverly had felt ill again, and Avery had insisted on staying behind at the base camp with her. Under no circumstances would he let his wife traipse off into the forest with Jade for a few days, and when Jade had suggested that she set up a secondary camp on her own, Beverly grew so distressed and agitated that Jade relented. She had her own theory about Beverly’s situation, but decided to keep it to herself until they were ready to talk about it. She wondered if she’d be named a godparent.
    Jade ripped off a generous piece of jerked meat, handed it to Chiumbo, and pulled off another chunk for herself. As she chewed, she studied the upper branches of what looked like a mahogany tree for signs of recent feeding. Several other trees bore fresh breaks, some nearly ten feet aboveground. Part of the underlying litter had been crushed deeper into the soil where one of the pachyderms had reared up onto its hind legs for an extended reach.
    Jade hadn’t believed such behavior possible when Blaney Percival had first described it to her in Nairobi. Then she’d witnessed it for herself from a distance. Better than a circus. Now, that would be something to photograph. A shudder of urgency ran through her as though she needed to document everything about these magnificent animals. Suddenly, even tomorrow felt too late. At least all her cameras were set up for night flashes now, one on the way to the old bull’s favorite dust-bathing site. She had a good chance of getting another shot of him there.
    “Let’s head on towards the big lake, shall we, Chiumbo?” Jade suggested. “Maybe our big gray friends are back from wherever they wandered and stayed put for us.” She pointed to a different trail from the one they’d taken previously. “We can go that way.”
    The two hiked along the wide trail for another hour, following the crater’s northern base. Jade assumed it would eventually climb up towards the crater’s ridge, perhaps switching back and forth. So far, the slight breeze had stayed in their favor, but as they rounded a bend, the air turned and brought with it a gut-wrenching aroma of rotting flesh. Jade held the back of her hand to her nose and winced.
    “Very bad smell, Simba Jike,” Chiumbo said. “I think maybe we not go on. Not good for a lady to see.”
    “We left the ‘lady’ back at camp with indigestion, Chiumbo. I intend to investigate.”
    Chiumbo shrugged. “Lady lions are very bold,” he muttered to himself. “It is not safe to stand in their way.”
    The source of the stench lay another three hundred yards away, hidden under a blanket of scavenging vultures. Jade took her Winchester from Chiumbo and fired one shot in the air. When the birds showed no intention of giving up their meal that easily, she fired another into the thick of them. Most of them half flapped, half ran a short distance away. Jade kicked the rest aside. Five tuskless carcasses lay sprawled before her, all males, a small bachelor herd.
    “This is very bad, Simba Jike. It is not safe here.” Chiumbo scanned the forest for signs of movement.
    “Whoever did this is long gone. These bodies have been here at least a full day.” She worked her way amid the carnage, looking for clues to the hunters’ identity. She found one in the arrows sticking out of legs and guts. She pulled out one and examined the tip. “What’s on the arrows? Does it kill the elephant?”
    Chiumbo shook his head. “Not enough poison to kill an elephant but enough so it is still dangerous. Then men come in close and shoot it with a rifle.”
    Jade began yanking arrows out of the elephants. Two broke off near their tips, but a half dozen slid out of the decomposing flesh. She slipped them into her day pack. As an afterthought, she stuck three back in an elephant, pulled out her camera, and took a photograph. Blaney Percival might want a picture as evidence if they ever caught the poachers.
    “We might as well go back and leave the