The Akimbo Adventures. Alexander McCall Smith

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      With the tracker in the front, his eyes glued to the ground, the line of poachers snaked its way through the thick savannah. Tracking elephants was much easier than tracking other animals, as elephants destroy so much as they make their way, but even so it took all the tracker’s skill.

      By late afternoon there was still no sign of the elephants and Akimbo wondered what they would do when darkness fell. It would be impossible then to follow the herd any further – and dangerous, too, as they could suddenly find themselves in the middle of the herd in the darkness, and they would stand no chance then.

      When the light became too bad to go on, the leader called his men to a halt. Everybody was tense, weary, and thirsty, and they were pleased to be able to rest.

      ‘We will spend the night here. At first light we can go on.’

      ‘But we’re too close to the ranger camp,’ one of the others said. ‘It’s only one or two hours that way.’

      Akimbo watched where the man pointed. Then, without bothering to hear the leader’s answer, he walked off and lay beneath a nearby bush, curling up as if to sleep. The other men all settled themselves too, concealing themselves beneath branches or bushes, and soon anybody walking past would not have realised that five men and a boy were sleeping there.

      The boy was not asleep. Although his bones ached with tiredness, Akimbo fought back the waves of drowsiness, and he struggled to keep his mind on what he had to do. At last, when he was sure that all the others were fast asleep, he crept out from underneath his sheltering place.

      Nobody moved. Nor did anybody stir as he began to move off in the direction of the ranger camp, which one of the men had pointed out.

      ‘I hope he was right,’ he said to himself. ‘If he’s not . . .’ But Akimbo did not allow himself to think about that. For the moment he knew exactly what he had to do, and he concentrated all his energy on doing it.

      It was more frightening than Akimbo could ever have imagined. The moon was behind cloud, and there was very little light. All that he could make out around him were large black shapes – the shapes of trees, bushes, rocks. Akimbo tried to fix his mind on some landmark in order to keep travelling in the right direction, but it was almost impossible to do this in the darkness. The shape which he aimed for would suddenly be lost, or would look different when he approached it, and there was no way of telling that he was not going round in one large circle.

      ‘If I’m just going round and round I’ll come back to where I started from and I’ll walk right into the poachers.’

      After about fifteen minutes the cloud cleared and there was a little more light from the sky. Akimbo could now identify an object to aim for in the distance. He could also move faster, as he did not have to worry so much about the ground suddenly giving way over a cliff.

      He broke into a run. It was painful to his tired legs, but he managed to push himself to do it. He scratched himself, of course, on thorn bushes and protruding twigs, but he did not mind that. All he wanted now was to reach the ranger camp and safety.

      Suddenly Akimbo stopped. His heart was pounding within him, his skin prickling with fear. Had his ears deceived him, or was it . . . Yes. There it was again. It was a roar. Still quite distant, but unmistakeably the roar of a lion.

      Akimbo looked about him in panic. All he saw were the same dark shapes and shadows of the African night. Lions could be anywhere. They could be watching him at this moment. They could be crouched, ready to pounce.

      He shook his head. He would not give up now. He would not look for the nearest tree and try to climb to safety. He had to get home.

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