The Mystery of the Black Rhino by Franklin W. Dixon

Author:Franklin W. Dixon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aladdin

8 Escape!

* * *

Once they were out from behind the yellow acacia trees, Robert and the Hardy boys had no cover. But luck was with them as they made their way down the ravine—they weren’t spotted and no one slipped. They finally made it to the floor, where they took cover behind the seasonal long grass.

“Those guys up ahead are not the only enemy,” Robert whispered to them as they crouched behind the long grass. “Remember that the big feral cats often use this grass for cover while they stalk their prey.”

“We won’t forget,” Joe assured him.

Slowly they started toward the three men. Now sheets of heavy rain masked their movements through the grass. As they got closer, they could hear voices—but Frank soon realized that they weren’t speaking English.

“Do you understand them?” Joe whispered to Robert.

Robert nodded. “They’re speaking Swahili.”

“I knew I should have brought my Swahili phrase book,” Frank said.

Robert grinned at him. “Well, it’s not exactly tourist Swahili,” he said. “Some of those words probably aren’t in most dictionaries.”

“What are they saying?” Frank asked.

Robert cupped his ears and tilted his head so it would be aimed in the direction of the voices. “They’re saying that this cat will bring them a lot of money,” he said.

Frank could tell by the sound of the voices that they were getting closer. He could hardly wait to see the expression on Jackson’s face.

“What’s the plan, Robert?” Frank asked.

Robert opened his safari jacket and took out a gun. “This is the only language that most poachers understand,” he said. “When we get close enough, we’ll try to take them by surprise. If we’re lucky, they’ll drop the cheetah and walk ahead of us until we reach Cheetah Gate.”

Joe didn’t want to admit that this plan sounded kind of weak to him. Robert was the expert in matters relating to poachers in Africa, so Joe wasn’t going to suggest an alternative. Still, he knew, it would be best to be on guard for anything that could happen.

The Hardy boys and Robert were now just a few feet behind the three men. Through the tall grass the boys could see two of the men continue to chatter away in Swahili. The magnificent cheetah swung lazily back and forth on the wooden pole that the men were carrying on their shoulders.

What a waste! Frank thought. He visualized the cheetah racing through the bush after its prey. It would have been a wonderful sight to behold.

Suddenly Robert stopped. “I think it’s time we take them,” he whispered. “They’ve started to turn south, which will take them out of the park. That’s probably where their cohorts are waiting for them.”

“We’re ready,” the Hardy boys said.

“Let’s go!” Robert whispered.

With Robert in the lead, his gun aimed at the men, the three of them raced through the tall grass.

When they were right behind the last man, Robert raised his pistol in the air and fired.

The two startled Africans dropped the pole with the cheetah and ran off into the bush.

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