Escaping the Illusion by Rubenstein Brian;Rubenstein Terry; & Terry Rubenstein & Terry Rubenstein

Author:Rubenstein, Brian;Rubenstein, Terry; & Terry Rubenstein & Terry Rubenstein
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 5594290
Publisher: MX Publishing, Limited
Published: 2018-09-06T00:00:00+00:00

17

A completely new face greeted us first thing early the next morning as WJW and I scrambled up the side of the safari truck, clutching onto the rungs of the short step-ladder positioned to assist us.

“Good morning, my name is Roger and I am your ranger today,” said a young man wearing an identical uniform to that which our far older guide had worn the day before. “You can call me Ranger Roger,” he added, laughing as he did.

WJW and I exchanged a confused glance as we settled bleary-eyed onto the Land Rover’s padded bench.

“Where’s Jabulani?” I asked.

“Ah, Mister Happiness. To be honest, I have no idea,” said Roger. “I got a late night message from the manager telling me that I’m on duty again this morning when I was supposed to be enjoying a day off fishing in the Crocodile River. No mention at all of old Jabulani. But hey, that’s cool. So... I have seen fresh tracks belonging to a leopard and her cubs already this morning; they are probably out hunting. Should we go find them?”

Without waiting for an answer, our talkative new ranger put the 4-wheel drive into gear and off we went, hot on the trail of the family of leopards.

Turning to WJW, I had to raise my voice to be heard above the loud purring of the Land Rover’s engine as it negotiated a steep incline up a narrow path.

“I wonder what happened to Jabulani.”

“Hmmm, not sure,” responded WJW distractedly, his face buried in his brand new iPhone X, while his fingers tapped away agitatedly. It was clear he wasn’t in the mood for conversation, so I left him to his device and looked out the open side of the truck, scanning the trees for any sign of a golden spotted leopard and her cubs.

A few hours later, after a brilliant safari drive in the blazing sun, Roger brought the truck to a stop under the shade of a massive thorn tree. He parked just off the track, next to a large lake, the sunlight glistening off its smooth surface like a thousand tiny diamond fragments, and began unloading a big cooler box, pieces of firewood and other items from the back of the Land Rover. While our guide busied himself with getting a big fire going in the middle of a small clearing, we took turns looking through WJW’s high powered binoculars at the dozen or so enormous crocodiles, disguised as huge old logs, on the far bank of the lake. In no time at all, the sound of sausages and fried eggs, sliced tomatoes and diced mushrooms, could be heard sizzling away in a large frying pan, accompanied by tantalising smells that promised a bush breakfast of epic proportions.

“I hope you enjoyed those amazing leopards,” Roger said in his chatty way that I had already become accustomed to. “Now, after breakfast, Jabulani has arranged a different activity to the normal itinerary - a visit to a special orphanage out here in the bush.

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