Free The Elephant Whisperer: My Life With the Herd in the African Wild by Lawrence Anthony, Graham Spence Page B

signs and revelling in the glory of the odd shooting star.
    David’s whisper woke me. ‘Quick. Something’s happening at the fence.’
    I threw off my blanket and blinked to adjust my eyes to night vision. We crept up to the boma through the bush. I could see nothing. Then an enormous shape morphed in front of me.
    It was Nana, about ten yards from the fence. Next to her was Mandla, her baby son.
    I strained my eyes, searching for the others. Despite their bulk, elephants are difficult enough to see in dense bush during the day, let alone at night. Then I saw them, they were all standing motionless in the dark just a little way behind her.
    I quickly glanced at my watch; 4:45 a.m. Zulus have a word for this time of the morning – uvivi – which means the darkness before the dawn. And it’s true. In the Zululand
bush, the darkness is most intense just before the first shreds of haze crack the horizon.
    Suddenly Nana tensed her enormous frame and flared her ears.
    ‘Jeez! Look at her!’ whispered David, crouching next to me. ‘Look at the bloody size of her.’
    Nana took a step forward. ‘Oh shit! Here she goes,’ said David, no longer whispering. ‘That bloody electric wire better hold.’
    Without thinking I stood and walked towards the fence. Nana was directly ahead, a colossus just a few yards in front.
    ‘Don’t do it, Nana,’ I said, calmly as I could. ‘Please don’t do it, girl.’
    She stood motionless but tense like an athlete straining for the starter’s gun. Behind her the rest of the herd froze.
    ‘This is your home now,’ I continued. ‘Please don’t do it, girl.’
    I felt her eyes boring into me, even though I could barely make out her face in the murk.
    ‘They will kill you all if you break out. This is your home now. You don’t have to run any more.’
    Still she didn’t move and suddenly the absurdity of the situation struck me. Here I was in thick darkness talking to a wild female elephant with a baby, the most dangerous possible combination, as if we were having a friendly chat.
    Absurd or not, I decided to continue. I meant every word and meant for her to get what I was saying. ‘You will all die if you go. Stay here, I will be here with you and it’s a good place.’
    She took another step forward. I could see her tense up again, preparing to go all the way. I too was ready. If she could take the pain and snap the electric wire the rest of the fence wouldn’t hold and she would be out. Frankie and the rest would smash through after her in a flash.
    I was directly in their path, something I was well aware of. The fence cables would hold them for a short while but I would still only have seconds to scramble out of their way and climb a tree, or else be stomped flatter than an envelope. The nearest tree, a big acacia robusta with wicked thorns was perhaps ten yards to my left. I wondered if I would be fast enough. Possibly not … and when had I last climbed a thorn tree?
    Then something happened between Nana and me, some infinitesimal spark of recognition, flaring for the briefest of moments.
    Then it was gone. Nana nudged Mandla with her trunk, turned and melted into the bush. The rest followed.
    David exhaled like a ruptured balloon.
    ‘Bloody hell! I thought she was going to go for it.’
    We lit a small fire and brewed coffee. There was not much to say. I was not going to tell David that I thought I had connected for an instant with the matriarch. It would have sounded too crazy.
    But something had happened. It gave me a sliver of hope.
     
    Each day was the same. As the sun came up, the herd would start endlessly pacing up and down the length of the fence, turning on us and charging if we dared get too close, halting only at the electric cable. The naked aggression and agitation, the fiercest I have seen from any animal, blazed nonstop whenever we approached the fence. And they would glare ferociously as we backed off and watched from a distance.
    As they were in a