The Doctrine of Presence. Benjamin Vance

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СКАЧАТЬ was a different story. He slowly and haltingly related his time in South Africa, from birth in the north to education, to battles under apartheid to job as ranger to job as bounty hunter for poachers. His English got better, the longer he spoke. Questions were asked, and answered to everyone’s satisfaction as far as I could tell.

      I asked Mr. Sankaw to go next and he readily complied. His English was impeccable, along with the British accent. He was obviously from Kenya. He was well schooled and a bit haughty because of it, I thought. He had been a guide in Amboseli, Magadi, Tsavo and Natron. He said he knew Amboseli and Magadi better that anyone, but he did not like Tsavo due to tribal rivalries. He said he was Kikuyu or Agikuyu as the tribe is sometimes called, and had been closely associated with Mao Mao. There were some people in eastern Kenya that he did not trust, and since he had his family’s scarification on his face, it would be hard for him to hide his origins. I believed him, to an extent, especially when he stated he was not married. I began to sense there was much more to that small man than met the eye, and ear.

      Mr. Owusu said he had been born in Angola, but escaped to a better country in 1988. He talked of his spiritualism, his gift of healing powers granted by his mother’s father, and he explained how he and Michaele had been drawn together through their rivalry over a woman whom they later found was married. They both had a good laugh about it. Mr. Owusu did not like guns or killing, but he did like beautiful women. He explained that South Africa had the most beautiful women in the world. Mr. Sankaw disagreed with him, and stated that Kenya should have that status. The three, and Fredo, agreed there were also many beautiful women in Kenya.

      After they talked, I briefed them on the bare essentials of our mission and that the Kenyan government knew of our mission, but would surely deny it. After I promised to make each one a member of our team, I gave them the chance to decline and be driven out of the park safely. None wanted to leave; all three seemed excited. I’m pretty sure now, that I saw tears in Koinet’s eyes then. Greenie issued weapons and ammo to Koinet and Michaele. N’tolo Owusu took a beautiful stainless machete with scabbard, and attached it to his chest in a creative way so it could be pulled down and out in a flash. I noted he did not like weapons, but certainly knew how to use them.

      After we became a semi-homogeneous group, I saw a need to sight in our weapons. Greenie prepared some decent targets and placed them against a hill at about two hundred meters according to our range finders. I could barely see the targets without my scope. Greenie went first, to the dismay of those of us who had seen him shoot previously. Surprisingly, he hit the targets two out of twenty times. He blamed his featureless weapon of course.

      Our black cohorts did fine, with about ten of twenty each. After their scopes were adjusted they did very well. They both chose what Greenie said were AR-15s in 5.56mm, modified with 24 inch fluted barrels. They treated their weapons like rare jewels. I’m sure they didn’t realize the weapons were theirs for life, even though I emphasized it. I noted mentally that the adjustable stocks were just what Koinet needed.

      I did as well as the others after my scope was adjusted. I loved the solid kick of my M-14 or whatever it was. The ammo was marked on the boxes with a simple stamp, but the first ones I loaded up puckered me up some because I wasn’t sure they wouldn’t blow up in my face. There was a big difference in what Gimp and Leo wanted to shoot and what I chose. Mine was .308 and theirs was .338. Never the twain shall meet, especially in the wrong rifle chamber even with the same powder load.

      Leo shot seven rounds. He got the scope dead on at 200 meters and that was enough for him. Gimp pushed his own chair up and used the attached bipod Greenie made for him. It took him three shots to zero his weapon. He put five more into the same holes as the first three. It amazed everyone, but that was Gimp, ex-Marine Sniper. Our African gents needed a lot of practice before they would be able to hit well, so we planned on it. On the way back to our camp, Leo reminded me that we still had to sight in our night scopes. All I could say was, “Poor Greenie.”

      Once everyone was comfortable with their rifles and side arms, we had to instruct our African friends how to use back packs, water bladders, sunscreen (yes sunscreen), head sets for communication, and Global Positioning System (GPS) units; a challenge for anyone. We were cross trained and ready in about a week and even Mr. Owusu voiced an interest in learning how to shoot, “… the nice rifles.” It was a pleasant vacation which was about to come to a close.

      We were visited by none other than Chief Warden Donald Alden. We heard his rover about a mile off and figured it was an official who heard our daily shooting. We were wrong; a tourist had heard the shooting and reported it, thinking it may be poachers. I warned Fredo to hide Tink, but he had already done so. Leo took to the hills just to be sure he had our six. The Warden had a driver and when he pulled up it was obvious he was in a good mood. His ruddy face was smiling and he looked on the verge of breaking out in a great case of goose-bump excitement.

      The Warden shook every available hand until he saw Sankaw. His face went solemn as he and Sankaw approached each other. He shook hands with the small man and said, “Brother Koinet, I was very sad to hear about your father. Is your family doing all right? How’re your mother and brother?”

      Sankaw said, “Yes, thank you for your concern Chief Warden. Everyone is fine as far as I know. My father, God rest his soul, is buried in the family plot and my mother is staying with my sister in North Nairobi. My brother-in-law, the attorney, will take good care of my mother … for now. My brother is better, thank you for asking Chief Warden.”

      Warden Alden explained to the group that he and Sankaw went way back to his early hunting days. He met Koinet when he first arrived in Kenya and they were caught up in the vague aftermath of the Mao Mao debacle. He’d used Sankaw on about every serious poacher hunt in the last fifteen years. One could tell the Warden was itching to ask about the new vehicles and dispense with the old times, so when we got a break in the conversation I asked if he’d like a tour. He did and was duly impressed.

      Of note, he never asked why we had the new Unimogs. He stayed and had supper with us and enjoyed the camaraderie though. During our meal, we heard an insect-like dik dik dik coming from inside Fredo’s Unimog. Fredo excused himself and went into the vehicle to feed a hungry Tink. Upon his return, he said he had to turn off an alarm. Everyone laughed. The Warden told us he assumed Fredo had become papa to a young Dik Dik. Fredo was embarrassed, but relieved the Warden was not going to try to take Tink. Thinking back on it, we may have buried the Warden out there if he’d tried.

      Before Alden left, he got solemn faced and informed us that three tuskers had been killed two days before, within 11 kilometers south of our location. Hackles went up when I realized why he visited our camp. Apparently, he was inferring we had a job to do.

      14

      Everyone knew the mission after the Warden headed home. He left Koinet Sankaw with new credibility which apparently I alone questioned, and he left us all with a general compass direction. Gimp, Fredo, Michaele and N’tolo stayed in camp; Greenie, Leo and I took Koinet with one mog and headed south about seven miles and then fanned out into four directions. Sankaw found the carcasses, notified the rest of us of the exact GPS location and headed back. It took us about an hour to converge on Koinet, but the rest of us never saw or smelled the elephants up close.

      On the way back to our rendezvous point Leo found vehicle tracks apparently leading to and from the direction of the killing zone. There was a very small village nearby, so Leo took Sankaw and asked villagers if they had heard or seen anything. Gimp and I watched from a distance. They got nothing verbal from the villagers, but Sankaw said they knew all about it. He guessed the poachers were either in the village or the entire village was related to the poachers. We decided to keep track of movements in the community. On the way back to our camp we spotted a small СКАЧАТЬ