Last Chance to See. Mark Carwardine

elections very closely during our travels in Kenya.

      Barack was a 14-year-old blind southern white rhino, living in comfortable retirement at Ol Pej. He had few pleasures in life except for sweet sugar cane, which he chewed all day long, and the radio. While we were there he happened to be listening to a school broadcast teaching children (and, presumably, rhinos) about the colours of the rainbow.

      ‘He likes talk shows most,’ said Kes. ‘He’s not really into music.’

      The rest of the boma was eerily empty. Kes had hoped that this would be the heart of the last-ditch effort to save the northern white rhino from extinction. But the chances of finding any survivors, let alone catching them, were getting slimmer with every passing day.

      Stephen and I watched as she strolled around the boma, looking visibly upset. Kes had devoted most of her life to the northern white rhino and was on first-name terms with the last of the subspecies. She told us afterwards that, as she walked around the deserted boma, she had a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach that it was game over.

      While we were in Kenya, I introduced Stephen to a couple of old friends. I can’t tell you their names, because they are undercover agents and need to keep a low profile. I know it sounds a bit cloak and dagger, but revealing their identities really would put their lives at risk.

      They work for the Lusaka Agreement Task Force, which is a dreadful name for an absolutely brilliant organisation established in the late 1990s to fight illegal wildlife trade across Africa’s borders. My two friends work in a highly dangerous world of undercover operations, crime syndicates, informants, intelligence gathering, gunfights and double-agents. Talking to them is like watching The Bourne Identity – except, instead of working for the CIA, they risk their lives to protect endangered wildlife.

      After a lot of gentle persuasion, they kindly agreed to show us a haul of confiscated rhino horns. We were led to a darkened vault at a secret location and came face to face with horns representing the deaths of dozens of black and white rhinos.