Rogue Lion Safaris by Simon Barnes

Author:Simon Barnes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2014-03-22T00:00:00+00:00

III

South

1

Vultures.

In the crown of a thorn tree surveying the thirsty country.

George Sorensen, emaciated, more markedly senescent, as ever leotropic, pointed them out to our last paying clients of the season and spoke the word: ‘Lion.’

‘Oh boy.’

Vegetation the colour of lion, scarcely a decent mouthful to be had for a herbivore, and even my zebra looked, like George, a little careworn. Only carnivores prospered now, lazily knocking down the weakened buck and buffalo as they skulked their frightened way down to water.

The eating was good for all non-vegetarians, the bush seemed to be heaving with round-bellied carnivores, and pleasing clients had never been so easy. We were dealing with a pair of old boys engaged, like striped kingfishers, in a constant cross-talking duet. They had never before been out of Europe, and we had them spellbound.

‘Have you got your camera, you silly old man?’

‘I’m taking a picture right now, you blind old fool.’

The heat and dust were prodigious now, but the old boys had walked well, without complaint, constantly stirred by the wonders we found for them. The thermometer hit 40, or if you prefer, 104, by eleven each day. But Bill and Dougie, parched and dried-up characters themselves, took these discomforts in stride. ‘This dry heat has taken ten years out of my bones.’

‘So you feel like you’re only ninety-two, you senile old dodderer?’

The calendar claimed that it was the end of the season, but the skies gave no sign. Not a threat, not a hint of rain; each morning brought only another day of shimmering, eye-baffling heat.

The vultures were plainly visible, despite the hovering heat haze and the dust-laden air. ‘We should walk a little closer to the lion, don’t you think?’ George asked.

‘Holy Dinah,’ Dougie said, addicted as he was to some eccentric Americanisms; we learned that he had lived most of his life in Canada.

‘We’ll go in, shall we?’

‘Ah, George?’

This was Aubrey, our scout. He had been with us two months and more: ever since our return from the North Park and the Nice Place. Short and round-faced, he had none of Phineas’s insouciant ways. ‘Well, Aubrey?’

‘Is very dangerous.’

‘No, Aubrey. It’s potentially hazardous.’

‘Very very dangerous.’

‘I suggest we move as far as the termite mound. That is two hundred yards from the tree with the vultures, therefore at least two hundred yards from any lion that may lie beneath it. So let us go as far as that and assess the situation.’ Of the company, only I knew that George was in a towering rage. With George, pedantry was temper.

Out-faced in front of clients, Aubrey worked the bolt of his rifle to put a round up the spout. Then, a caricature of stealth, he led us towards the termite mound. George strolled after him, talking about vultures and scavenging behaviour in ringing conversational tones. ‘It’s a waiting game, of course, and a very long wait, because hyenas wait for the lions, so the vultures must wait for the hyenas, but there’s a huge feed at the end of

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.