CHAPTER 22

Niassa Game Reserve

Mozambique, Africa

March

AFTER A HEARTY BREAKFAST and three cups of coffee to get Reece’s brain back in gear, he followed Rich toward the parking area. Rich reached behind the seat of his safari vehicle and retrieved a battered canvas rifle case that he handed to the new arrival. “You can use this rifle. It’s old but it works. ”

Reece unzipped the case and pulled the big-bore rifle out to inspect it. It was an old Mauser sporting rifle that looked like it had been carried to the moon and back. The bluing was worn from every visible surface from years of honest use, leaving the steel a burnished silver. The scarred walnut stock was the color of dark chocolate, and only small areas of the checkering at both the grip and forend remained visible. There wasn’t a speck of rust or dirt, though, making it obvious that the rifle was heavily used but never abused. Reece noticed some lettering at the top of the barrel that read “W. J. Jeffery & Co, 60 Queen Victoria Street, London. ” It wore several proof marks, presumably from a house in England, and was marked “404 EX Cordite. ” He slowly cycled the bolt, which was as smooth as glass, pushing a cigar-sized round into the chamber.

“How many does it hold? ”

“Three down, one up the pipe. The. 404s are too bloody wide for the standard Mauser but this one feeds like a charm. A gunsmith down in Pretoria took the sides out of the mag box to give it more room so the rounds actually ride on the wood. I’ve got a couple of extra boxes of ammo for you, along with a pouch for your belt. ” Rich dug around behind the seat and handed Reece a handful of battered yellow and red cardboard boxes with “KYNOCH. 404 JEFFERY 400 gr. Solid” printed on the front.

“All solid bullets? ” Reece asked.

“Yeah. If you shoot this thing, it means that something is trying to stomp you into jelly. A solid is what you’ll want; the softs won’t penetrate on something like an ele. If you shoot an impala or wartie for the pot, the solid will wreck less of the meat. ”

Reece nodded in understanding.

“Carry this thing everywhere when you’re not in camp, eh? You go off to have a shite and a dagga boy with a snare around his leg might decide to have a go at you, right? ” Hastings laughed.

“No sling? ”

“When bad things happen out here, they happen fast. You want your rifle in your hands, not on your back. ”

“Understood. How’s the recoil? ”

“Ah, not bad. The bloody English knew how to shape a stock, which helps. It’s like a heavy shotgun load, nothing a big, tough frogman can’t handle. ”

“Is there somewhere I can test fire it? ”

“Sure, Louie will stop outside of camp on the way out this morning and you can have a go with it. Grab whatever you need from your room; he’s gassing up the truck and will be ready to go in a bit. He’ll have a cold box with food and drinks. Just take whatever you need for the day. ”

“Got it. Thanks, Rich. I really appreciate this. ” Reece held up the rifle and nodded toward it.

“No worries, eh? Can’t have our new friend getting stomped on his first day. Take the case, too; you’ll want it for the truck. ”

Back in his room, Reece searched through his duffel to find the items he thought he’d need as a professional. . . well, whatever he was now. The temperatures were already rising to the point of being uncomfortable, so he wouldn’t need much in the way of clothing. He found a tan ball cap with an old platoon logo on it and traded his flip-flops for socks and his Salomon hiking boots, which admirably looked none the worse for wear considering what they’d been through. He clipped a folding knife onto the pocket of his shorts and put his backpack on the bed to take inventory of what was inside. He pulled out several items that he wouldn’t need for this excursion and made sure that both his binoculars and camera were packed. He slipped the boxes of. 404 ammunition into an outside pocket and zipped up the bag. Grabbing his Gatorz sunglasses from the small bedside table, Reece picked up his rifle and headed toward the parking area.

Louie was standing by a white Toyota Land Cruiser pickup, the workhorse vehicle for most of the underdeveloped world, supervising the loading of supplies while he smoked a cigarette. He spotted Reece approaching with his gear and nodded.

“Mind if I throw my stuff in the back? ”

“Just hand it to Muzi, eh? You can put it up front if you’d prefer. Hand him your rifle, too, and he’ll put it up in the rack. ”

Reece handed his cased rifle to the thin black man in coveralls, who appeared to be in his fifties. Muzi placed the rifle in the rack behind the rear window with deliberate respect.

“Do I need to get some water? ” Reece inquired, still suffering a bit from last night’s bender.

“No, we’ve got plenty in the cold box. Muzi, ipa iye diridza. ”

Muzi opened the cooler and handed down a one-liter bottle of water.

Reece nodded and thanked him. “What language is that? ”

“It’s Shona. Muzi is from Zim; he’s been my tracker as long as I can remember. He’s like an uncle to me. He understands English well but it’s more efficient for us to speak in Shona. Most of the workers in camp speak the local tribal language as well as Swahili and a little English or Portuguese. ”

Reece nodded.

“Okay, looks like we’re packed up, eh. You can jump up front with me. Muzi will ride in the back. ”

Reece noticed a padded seat mounted behind the cab of the truck that would give the tracker a bird’s-eye view as they drove. The Land Cruiser was a left-hand-drive pickup with a standard floor shift. Though it was probably only a few years old, judging by the appearance, its lack of modern features made it appear to be from the 1970s. These stripped-down utility vehicles were virtually indestructible but were also all but unobtainable in the United States. Reece had always loved using them overseas due to their dependability.

Muzi tapped on the sheet metal roof and Louie started the motor, slipping the truck into gear. Three thin black men in the olive-green coveralls were walking toward the camp on the narrow dirt track as the truck left the parking area. Louie steered the truck toward them and slammed on the accelerator. The men laughed and feigned fear as they scattered over the rocks that bordered the road. Louie waved and said something that Reece couldn’t understand as they passed. They drove with the windows down, fresh air filling the cab.

“All right, you’ve seen the camp, and Rich gave you the lay of the land on the map this morning. Today we’re going to take a bit of a drive to the new block and check out some spots for buffalo, so you can start to learn your way around the concession. ”

“Sounds good. This place is beautiful. ”

“It really is special. Moz is backward as hell, but there’s so much potential. The wilderness areas are huge and the animals are really starting to recover from the war. If we can keep the poaching under control, this place will be paradise. ”

“What do you do with poachers? ”

“Well, half the time you run into a couple of guys that you know are up to no good but you can’t prove anything. We try to catch them with snares or guns but if we don’t, we basically try to scare them. We tell them that we know what they’re doing and if we catch them out here again, they’re going to jail. If we catch anyone in the act, we call in the game scout and let him handle it. Rich wants to build a dedicated antipoaching unit, but that’s expensive and we’d have to fund it ourselves. It’ll be worth it but after buying this new block, I think it’s a matter of resources. Maybe if you stick around long enough you can help us train them, eh? ”

“Happy to help if I can. Who do the game scouts work for? ”

“They work for the government, for the game department. In most of Africa, you have to have a game scout with you when you hunt with clients. They make sure that the laws are followed and all of that. A good one is a real blessing, eh, but a bad one can fuck up a hunt right quick. ”

“So, it’s like taking the game warden hunting with you? ”

“Exactly. We pay for them, of course, but we don’t pay them directly because they don’t want them to have a conflict of interest. They take tips from the clients, though, so it’s not exactly perfect in that regard. ”

“Are they competent? ”

“Ha! This is Africa, James. You never know what you’ll get. Some of them are as good as the trackers but some come straight out of the cities and you have to keep them from getting lost. They’re given AK-47s but no training, so you just hope they don’t shoot you in the bloody back by mistake when you’re on a track. ”

“Sounds like half of the Iraqi Army. ”

“I bet. Speaking of that, I hope Rich didn’t talk your bloody ears off about the Bush War last night. ”

“Not at all. I’d never heard most of that before. ”

“Did he tell you about his sister? ”

“No, he didn’t mention her. I thought it was just Rich and his brother? ”

“It is now. They had a sister, she’d be Raife’s aunt. I never knew her, but I know the story. She was an air hostess for Air Rhodesia. The terrorists shot down two flights back in the late 1970s using Russian missiles; she was on one of them. They killed something like forty people when the plane went down, then they hunted down the survivors and killed them on the ground: all civilians, women, kids. They bragged about it on TV afterward, sick bastards. ”

“No wonder he’s bitter. ”

“Yeah, those guys fought a tough fight but it’s over and some of them have a hard time letting go. It’s never going to be like the old days no matter how much they complain. Rich is a lekker bloke but sometimes he lives in the past. It’s an African thing, I guess. ” Louie’s eyes narrowed as he took a long drag on his smoke.

“In Afghanistan, they’re still using us to settle centuries-old grievances every chance they get. ”

“Well, perhaps it’s a human thing then, eh? ”

Louie took his foot off the accelerator and slowed the truck as they approached a wide spot in the dirt road. He turned off the track and steered the truck so it was perpendicular across the red dirt path.

“Looks like a good spot to test that new rifle of yours. ”

“Let’s do it. ”

Reece opened his door and Muzi passed the. 404 down from the bed. Louie said something in Shona, and Muzi climbed down from the truck holding a panga, a utilitarian blade that was the African version of the machete. Reece retrieved his pack and laid it on top of the hood so that he could use it as a rifle rest. Louie handed him a rolled-up jacket to support the butt end.

Muzi had walked fifty or so yards down the road and looked back toward them for approval. Louie flashed a thumbs-up, and Muzi used his panga to slash the bark away from a tree along the roadside, exposing the light-colored wood underneath. Reece now had a target. Reece expected Muzi would retreat to their position for safety, but instead he walked a few yards off to the side and stopped.

“Go ahead and give it a go, ” Louie said, his binoculars already focused on the makeshift target.

When in Rome, I guess.

Reece checked to ensure that a round was chambered and arranged Louie’s jacket underneath the toe of the stock before leaning across the hood with the rifle. The back of his hand that gripped the forend rested on his back. He moved the safety to FIRE, found the silver front bead, and began to control his breathing. It occurred to him that the past weeks had been the longest period in two decades that he’d gone without firing a weapon either in training or in combat. He centered the bead in the express-style rear notch and arranged the sights on the target downrange, his eyes dancing between the three visual planes. He transitioned his focus to the front sight, exhaled slowly, and began to apply pressure on the trigger.

BOOM.

The recoil was significant, as was the noise, and Reece was instantly reminded of his lack of hearing protection by the report of the elephant gun. He worked the bolt as the recoil pushed him rearward and chambered a new round as he returned his sights to the target. He saw Muzi move toward the tree and he moved his finger away from the trigger. Muzi used the tip of his panga as a pointer and indicated the bullet’s point of impact like the judge at a turkey shoot. The rifle’s sights were zeroed perfectly.

“Good shot. You want to give it another one? ”

“Sure, can’t hurt. You have any earmuffs, by any chance? ”

“Ha, yes, mate. Loud, eh? ”

Louie dug around behind the seat and returned with a pair of red earmuffs that he handed to Reece. He put them on and settled back in for a second shot, one that landed less than two inches from the first. Satisfied, Reece reloaded the rifle from the box of ammo in his pack. Muzi nodded at Reece approvingly as he took the rifle, returning it to the truck’s rack.

They drove on through miles of dense miombo forests broken occasionally by rivers or open savannas, with giant stone monoliths towering upward from the otherwise gentle terrain. Reece took it all in, awed by its savage beauty. The game appeared to be plentiful: small groups of giraffes could be seen close to the road, their necks towering above the tree line like periscopes.

Ever the guide, Louie would stop the truck and allow Reece to take in the scene while he passed along some knowledge about the species in question.

“You can tell a male from a female by looking at the antenna up top, eh. Like a human, the bulls go bald on top and sometimes you can see where they’ve bent them from fighting. See how the antenna are crooked on the dark one on the left? ”

Reece found the correct bull in his binoculars and took note of the askew headgear.

“I see what you’re talking about. Why is that? ”

“They fight for dominance by banging their heads together sideways. When they do it, they’ll often break something on the skull and those things get crooked. Must give them a headache, eh? ”

After a few moments, Louie started the truck again and continued on their journey. Similar stops were made to observe groups of impala, zebra, and a small herd of Cape buffalo. Unlike in the touristy photo safari camps that Reece had seen on television, these animals didn’t stand around very long once the vehicle stopped. It reminded him of the difference in animal behavior in places like Yellowstone versus the backcountry wilderness areas where he’d hunted during his college days in Montana. About two hours into the drive, Reece heard a tapping sound on the truck’s roof and Louie brought the truck to a halt. He exchanged words with Muzi in Shona for a moment before opening the door.

“Muzi sees big bull tracks, elephant. Let’s go have a look. ”

By the time Reece was out of the truck, Muzi was already handing Louie his weapon, a massive double-barreled express rifle with bores that looked at least a half inch wide. Muzi handed Reece his rifle next before climbing down from the truck’s bed.

Louie and Muzi stood over a large circular track on the dirt road, Muzi pointing at it while speaking rather animatedly in his native tongue. The PH knelt by the footprint and pointed out the various characteristics to Reece.

“This is from a bull’s front foot; we can tell because it’s round. The rear track is more of an oval. These wrinkles are like a fingerprint; every ele is different. This smooth spot here comes from the back of his foot, so we know which direction he’s moving. See how worn this track is? This is an old bull, probably a big one, definitely worth having a look at. ”

Reece nodded as he took mental note of Louie’s explanation.

“Muzi will lead the way. Just stay behind me. Stop if I stop and if I run, run like hell? ” He smiled.

Muzi took off in the direction of the elephant’s travel, his eyes focused on the ground. Reece was surprised at the pace they kept and struggled to keep up while staying quiet. Reece’s eyes were mainly focused on the ground, looking for places to put his feet with minimal noise. He considered himself a decent tracker but could see no sign of the trail they were following. The fact that his hosts could do it at a near jog was amazing.

Reece quickly established that spending months on a small sailboat was not a great way to maintain cardiovascular endurance. The temperature was in the low hundreds with plenty of humidity and he was quickly covered in sweat. They traveled in silence for roughly thirty minutes before Muzi brought the trio to a halt. Louie motioned Reece in close and whispered quietly.

“He’s slowed down now and has been eating a bit. He’ll probably find some nice shade to rest in and that’s where we’ll catch him. ” Reece nodded and reached into his pack for the water bottle. Despite his desire to drink the entire liter, he rationed it on the assumption that this little walk could last the rest of the day. While he drank, Louie took what looked like a baby’s sock from his hip pocket. He shook it, and talc-like dust billowed out and floated to their right, indicating the direction and speed of the wind. He nodded at Muzi and they resumed their tracking, this time at a much slower and more careful pace. They encountered a massive pile of green dung that Louie tested with the sole of his boot. He turned to Reece. “Very fresh, eh. ”

Every fifty or so yards, Muzi would stop and listen while Louie tested the wind with the ash bag. Reece’s heart raced as he knew they were nearing one of the largest animals on the planet. The pace finally slowed to a creep, with each of them paying painful attention to every step. The air was hot and musty with the smell of decomposing vegetation, any breeze blocked by the thick bush they’d entered. The massive elephant had cleared a discernible path through the tangled jesse, which made their passage easier and stealthier. Suddenly, Muzi froze. Reece strained his eyes for any sign of the animal but all he could see were trees. Louie lifted his binoculars and looked into the bush before motioning Reece to move up alongside him.

Louie nodded and whispered as quietly as he could, “Do you see him, James? ”

Reece shook his head, indicating that he could not. Louie raised his arm and pointed toward the trunk of a tree just ahead of Muzi.

“Do you see that big tree, eh? Just to the right of it is his leg. ”

Reece saw nothing but trees and shadows. He blinked his eyes and visually traced the trunk of the tree from the ground upward. Then he saw it, so close that he’d been looking past it, thinking that it was a shadow. The sight of a massive bull elephant mere yards away overcame him; it was like one of those hidden images inside a picture that, once seen, become obvious. He couldn’t see the entire animal, only bits and pieces of wrinkled gray skin: a leg, a piece of shoulder, the curve of the belly, the twitch of the fanning ear. The bull appeared to be napping in the shade of the thick forest as an escape from the midday heat.

Louie whispered again, “Let’s get a look at his ivory; move to your right a bit if you can. ”

Reece stepped as if he were in the middle of a minefield and moved a few feet to his right to give them both a better vantage point on the bull’s face. He saw a filthy tusk the size of a man’s leg extend from the skin of the elephant’s lip, the tooth sweeping forward in a graceful arch. Louie shook the ash bag and motioned for Reece to keep moving to their right. Out of the corner of his eye Reece saw Muzi retreating the way they’d come. Reece moved until he could see the other tusk; it was a mirror image of the right one but for a flat spot worn on the inside edge of the tip. Louie and Reece stood there, admiring the animal for what must have been five minutes before Louie motioned for them to back away from the sleeping pachyderm. Reece’s heart was beating so fast he was afraid that the bull would hear it.

“Pretty close, eh? ” Louie whispered when they’d put a hundred yards between themselves and the bull.

“Wow! ” Reece replied, the wide smile beaming across his face. “That was amazing! ”

“Not something you do every day, eh? Even when you do, it’s still exciting. Come, let’s go to the truck and have some lunch. ”

Louie took off at a pace that required Reece to nearly jog to keep up. Adrenaline flowed through his veins as they walked; he couldn’t remember when he’d felt so alive. It also struck him that he was smiling and had actually felt real happiness through the experience rather than the pain that had filled the past few months of his life.

Could I learn to live again here?

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