Elephant Song

It was the song of the elephant.

One of the old cows was the first to detect a threat to the herd.

She transmitted her concern to them with a sound high above the register of the human ear and the entire herd froze into utter stillness.  Even the very young calves responded instantly.

The silence after the happy uproar of the feast was eerie, and the buzz of the distant spotter plane was loud in contrast.

The old cows recognised the sound of the Cessna engine.

They had heard it many times over the last few years and had come to associate it with the periods of increased human activity, of tension and of unexplained terror that they felt transmitted telepathically through the wilderness from the other groups of elephant in the Park.

They knew that the sound in the air was the prelude to a popping chorus of distant gunfire and to the stench of elephant blood on the currents of heated air along the rim of the escarpment.  Often after the sounds of aircraft and gunfire had faded, they had come across wide areas of the forest floor caked with dried blood, and they had smelt the odour of fear and pain and death exuded by members of their own race which still mingled with the reek of blood and of rotting entrails.

One of the old cows backed away and shook her head angrily at the sound in the sky.  Her tattered ears flapped loudly against her shoulders, a sound like the mainsail of a tall ship filling with wind.

Then she wheeled and led the herd away at a run.

There were two mature bulls with the herd, but at the first threat they peeled away and disappeared into the forest.  Instinctively recognising that the herd was vulnerable, they sought safety in solitary flight. The younger cows and the calves bunched up behind the matriarchs and fled, the little ones racing to keep up with the longer stride of their dams; in different circumstances their haste might have been comical.  Hello, Parks.  The herd is breaking southwards towards the Imbelezi pass. Roger, Sierra Mike.  Please head them towards the Maria Pools turn-off. The old cow was leading the herd towards the hills.

She wanted to get off the valley bottom into the had ground where pursuit would be impeded by the rock and severe gradients, but the sound of the aircraft hummed across her front, cutting her off from the mouth of the pass.

She pulled up uncertainly and lifted her head to the sky, where tall silvery mountains of cumulus cloud were piled up as high as the heavens.

She spread wide her ears, riven and weathered by time and thorn, and turned her ancient head to follow that dreadful sound.

Then she saw the aircraft.  The early sunlight flashed from its windshield as it banked steeply across her front, and it dived back towards her, low over the tops of the forest trees, the sound of its engine rising to a roar.

The two old cows spun together and started back towards the river.

Behind them the herd wheeled like an untidy mass of cavalry, and as they ran the dust rose in a fine pale cloud even higher than the treetops. Parks, the herd is heading your way now.

Five miles from the turn-off.  Thank you, Sierra Mike; keep them coming nice and easy, Don't push them too hard.  Will-do, Parks.  All K-Units.

Joh

Jock was filming over his shoulder as a herd of buffalo, disturbed.

by the sound of the Landrover, came pouring out of the forest and crossed the track just ahead of them.  Damn it!  Joh

Hundreds of the dark bovine shapes came in a solid phalanx, galloping heavily, raising white dust, grunting and lowing and splattering liquid green dung on the grass as they flattened it.

Within minutes they had passed and Joh

Joh

Joh

magnums loaded With solid ammunition for maximum penetration of bone and tissue.  is men were chosen for this work on account of their superior marksmanship.

The kill must be as swift and humane as possible.

They would shoot for the brain and not take the easier but lingering body shot.  Let's go!  Joh

They clearly did not enjoy the prospect of the bloody work ahead.

They, were stripped down to shorts and velskoen without socks, light ru

All of them were lean and muscled, and Joh

Daniel fell into position behind Joh

They ran like hounds, streaming through the forest effortlessly, their feet seeming to find their own way between scrub and rock and fallen branches and antbear holes.  They barely touched the earth in passing.

Daniel had run like that once, but now his boots were slamming down heavily and he stumbled once or twice in the rough footing.  He and the camera man began to fall behind.

Joh

Ahead, the forest gave way abruptly to the open glade of Long Vlei.

It was three hundred yards wide; the dry beige-coloured grass was waist-high.

The line of killers stopped at the edge of the forest and looked to Joh

Daniel caught up with him, and found that both he and Jock were panting heavily although they had run less than a mile.  He envied Joh