Free Stalking Ivory by Suzanne Arruda Page B

patrol was, we could alert him,” suggested Beverly.
    “Probably gone back to Isiolo to gather up the rest of his men,” said Avery. “He can’t very well arrest a gang of poachers with his one man.”
    Jade took a deep preparatory breath. “Maybe that bloody Hascombe knows where he is. Whether he does or not, we should send a runner with a message to either Marsabit Post or Kampia Tembo to alert whoever is on duty there.”
    Beverly grinned. “That’s the spirit, Jade. And I’m sure Harry isn’t as bad as all that. You simply—” She stopped abruptly when she saw the scowl on Jade’s face. “Yes, well. You had better get cleaned up. We’ll be leaving shortly, I’m sure.”
    Jade passed a hand through her bobbed black hair. “I have no intention of cleaning up for Hascombe. I’m going to catch a nap while I can, since once we get back tonight I plan on developing my film.”
    “Jade!” scolded Beverly.
    Jade ignored her friend’s tone and slipped into her tent. “Wake me when that horse’s backside gets here.”
    The “horse’s backside,” as Jade termed Harry, showed up an hour later and led them to his camp. Jelani walked alongside Jade while Biscuit alternated between tugging at his lead and butting the pair from behind. Avery and Beverly followed Harry, who managed to sidestep every one of their questions about his safari members’ identities.
    “I would rather wait for formal introductions,” he explained. “However, I can tell you that they are not professional hunters.” He directed that comment at Jade. “One man is a banker and another is in manufacturing. Motors, I believe. I’m not sure about the third man. Part of the idle rich, I suppose.”
    Beverly expressed her astonishment that he would know so little about the people who’d hired him, but Harry declared that as long as their checks cleared the bank, he was satisfied. Harry’s “three miles” turned out to be as the crow flew. The path itself took a few more tortuous turns before they entered his camp.
    Three men and three women lounged in canvas folding chairs set around wooden camp tables, and Jade took them in instantly. Two of the women were Jade’s age or younger. One had chin-length, sandy blond hair carefully coiffed in marcelled waves. The other young woman was a peroxide blonde who looked as if she was trying to imitate the more modern screen actresses. Her bobbed hair lay straight except for two tight curls on her forehead, one over each eye. If the effect was intended to be “vampish,” it looked more ludicrous to Jade. She dismissed both of them as silly.
    The third woman appeared to be in her forties, with a slightly thickened albeit athletic carriage. Her hair, also blond, was swept back in a less modern but very practical roll from her round face. Jade saw her stare inquisitively at Biscuit, her head tilted as though a new angle would make seeing a sleek African cat on a leash more comprehensible.
    Jade had less opportunity to study the men before they acknowledged the newcomers. They all wore khaki-colored bush jackets and heavy trousers tucked into their boots. Two of the three men stood immediately on the guests’ entrance and made sharp bows. One of them also clicked his heels together in a military salute.
    “Sweet Millard Fillmore on a bicycle,” muttered Jade. “They’re Germans.”

CHAPTER 6
    Food, danger, maternal love, passion, and security as well as the accumulated wisdom of countless years along ancient trails: these are the topics that make up the elephants’ conversations. These subjects are the very essence of life.
    —The Traveler
    H ARRY STEPPED into the center of the group and began the introductions as though the Great War hadn’t recently occurred and the English and Americans had never been bitter enemies with the kaiser’s empire or felt the brunt of its Big Berthas. Harry first directed his open hand towards a portly, older man with receding brown hair heavily flecked with