The Last Elephant Keeper

Part 30

The journey continued, with the men keeping a sharp lookout for any signs of danger. They were experienced hunters, but they knew that this mission would test their skills to the limit. As the safe house came into view, they steeled themselves for what lay ahead, uncertain if they would return with their target or if they would meet their fate in the desolate sands.

They arrived at the safe house by late afternoon, and Abel wasted no time in starting a fire. As he cooked a meager meal of beans and rice, his mind was consumed with thoughts of his plan to ambush Khumo and the elephants. He was driven by a fierce determination to secure the valuable tusks, and he knew that it would take careful planning and execution to succeed. Despite the flickering flames and the sound of his companions settling in for the night, Abel remained lost in thought, going over every detail of his plan again and again, determined to make it flawless.

The sun began to set, casting an eerie orange glow over the barren landscape. As they began to repack their supplies and refuel their car, they could hear the distant sound of a sandstorm approaching. The poachers had managed to gather a small stockpile of ammunition to prepare for their hunt.

Abel stirred the pot while he overheard the light-hearted chatter and jokes of his fellow poachers, Pete and Dave. The contrast between their seemingly carefree conversation and the seriousness of their mission was not lost on Abel. He knew that the success of their plan hinged on their ability to stay focused and work together, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration at their lack of solemnity.

"So, what're you gonna do when we're done with this elephant gig?" Pete asked, grinning.

Dave shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe try my hand at fishing or something. Anything's gotta be better than this, right?"

As the joke landed poorly, John rolled his eyes, feeling a deep sense of frustration and sadness. His companions, Pete and Dave, seemed so naive and ignorant of the reality of their situation. They were living in a world where survival was a constant struggle, and the poaching of these precious elephants was their only chance for a secure future.

Despite his bitterness and determination, John's conscience was nagging at him. He couldn't help but feel guilty for what they were doing. He knew that these elephants were the last of their kind, and that they should be protected, not hunted. The weight of his guilt sat heavy on his chest as he silently stirred the pot.

He tried to push those thoughts aside, knowing that he had to prioritize his own survival and the survival of his crew. He couldn't afford to be sentimental and ignore the potential profit that could be made from the elephants. He couldn't admit to himself that he had known about the elephants all along and secretly hoped they would remain hidden. He finished cooking the beans and rice, and served the meal onto three tin plates. The three of them sat down to eat, and for a few moments, there was silence as they consumed their meagre meal.

As the night wore on, John sat down, lost in thought. The conversation of his companions, Pete and Dave, talking about their past adventures and misadventures, barely registered in his mind. He couldn't shake off the sense of melancholy that had settled over him. The end of an era was approaching, and he was going to be a part of it. The last elephant hunt. The final chapter in the long, sad story of the African elephant, plants, and the people who had long left.

As John felt the heat from the radiator, he couldn't help but think about the magnitude of what he was about to do. The elephants were the last of their kind, and he was leading their demise. He knew that it was wrong, but he couldn't afford to be sentimental. He had to think about his own survival and that of his crew. This was their chance to secure a better future for themselves, to make something of themselves outside of those depressing settlement camps.

But as he thought about the future, he couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt crush him for what he was about to do. He knew that this was the end of a way of life, not just for the elephants but for the people of Africa. The poachers were a product of a broken system that had failed them, leaving them with no other choice but to hunt the last of the elephants for profit. It was a tragic and vicious cycle that seemed impossible to break.

John took a deep breath and looked over their radiator that furnished them with heat. He knew that he couldn't change the past, but he could create a better future. He could use the money from the elephant tusks to start a new life, maybe even start a business that could provide jobs for the people in his settlement camp. He could offer the world something more than an excuse of deficiency, with the money he could earn hunting the elephant.

Khumo had embarked on her own journey, following the march of the other elephants led by Hope. But something seemed off about the herd. The elephants were moving slower than usual and appeared more restless. As Hope reached out to Khumo with her trunk, she directed her attention towards the rest of the herd. Khumo noticed Blaze limping, and her heart sank. She knew something was wrong.

"Hope, what's going on with the others?" Khumo asked.

Hope turned her head and looked at Khumo with her wise, brown eyes. Khumo could feel the elephant's concern and knew she had to figure out what was bothering the herd.

She slid off Hope's back and walked over to Blaze, who was standing with her head lowered. Khumo examined the elephant's leg and saw that it was swollen and bleeding.