“Very well. Were our preparations for your arrival adequate?” Samuel remained planted a meter from the door.
“Yours were great. Mine sucked.”
“Pardon me. I do not understand.”
“American colloquialism. Not worth explaining. The provisions are great, thanks. My preparations, not so great. Need some sort of adaptor for the electrical. I need wireless, or some way to send email. Got a report I need to send home. Soon, or things go to hell.”
“Your research?”
“No, other duties as assigned,” Jack muttered. He stuffed the research plan in his pack. “Politics and deadlines.”
“Politics and deadlines? For a scientist?”
“Everyone has deadlines, Samuel.”
“Yes, but politics? Gabriel Kagunda spoke of science being best when sheltered from the influence of politics.”
“Yes. That’s wise, but . . .” Jack paused, remembering the director’s words. You’re only a scientist. “Never mind.” He gave a flippant wave of his hand. “Just work. Something I need to pass off to someone while I’m here.”
“I see. I will get you what you need.”
Rubbing his chin, Jack said, “Forgot to shave.” He threw the pack over his shoulder, backed out and closed the door.
Samuel led him to the Land Cruiser.
Climbing in, Jack noticed something on the floor. A rifle. Stock, wooden. Magazine, curved, and long enough for a not unsubstantial number of rounds. “Tourist route? Do tourists have guides carrying AK-47s?”
“No. Rangers only. I promise, this is not the time of day to be worried. Poachers prefer the night. In the day they know rangers are about, watching and ready.”
“How about at night? Rangers, I mean.”
“We are there at night, but the odds are less in our favor.”
“Why?”
“Some poachers are better equipped.”
—·—
Wildlife in abundance. Not quite everywhere, but the sight of giraffe with a cityscape background made it seem as though they were, the two seemed so incongruous. Herds of gazelle moved gracefully through the savannah, while the occasional rhinoceros plowed about, picking through forage with, what seemed, all the time in the world. When there were rhino, Jack—if he bothered to look—could typically spot rangers nearby, toting automatic rifles, eyes searching the bush. “What about cheetah and leopard?” he asked.
“You will see both, in good time.”
Driving south and west, Leboo pointed at zebras on the move up a draw, grazing as a unit. “This is dry season. Zebra and wildebeest have moved back into the park. Their wet season ranges are to the south.”
“Beautiful thing to see. These the only zebra in the park?”
“Many are here. More will come.”
To the west, across the grasslands, lay distant upland forests. Species Jack had no clue about. He pulled a notepad from his shirt pocket and wrote two entries. Plant book. Plant key.
The radio crackled, then words, none in English. Samuel seemed to turn an ear, listening. When the talk died away, he said, “Did you form an opinion about Gabriel Kagunda’s research?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“Very thorough. Are you sure you have the background to help, Samuel?”
Leboo held his eyes on the road. “Are you saying I cannot contribute without being a scientist?” He gave the radio a look, as more chatter came over the speaker.
“What language is that?”
“Maasai. You will also hear Swahili and English. I wish for you to teach me how to do his work. I do not expect to learn enough to call myself a scientist, but I hope to keep the project moving forward. To not let it suffer a sudden death.”
“Samuel, no offense, but Gabriel’s study plans are not exactly basic. They require both a good knowledge of the local flora, and a detailed understanding of sampling methods and statistics. Have you thought about turning to the local university? Finding a grad student. Someone to help.”
“I have. I had believed two students from university would join us today. They did not come. Their professors are concerned.”
“Same response as Oxford? Concerned for their safety?”
“Yes. I promised protection, but still, they did not come.” A look of resolve formed on his face. “For now, it is only I to assist. You are here for only so long. I must learn what I can, while I can.”
“Maybe you should rethink this. Put things off a while. Find someone with credentials to do this permanently. Send me home, bring me back when the fear has blown over.”
“Are you afraid?”
“No, it’s just that . . . ”
“I will find someone. I hope it is while you are here. For now, you have me to teach.”
“This may be tougher than you think. Plus, I need some things. Basic supplies.”
“What?”
“Three-quarter inch PVC pipe, or whatever it is in metric used here, and cotton cord. I need a plant key. If there are plant books published for the park, that’d make things easier.”
Samuel steered the Land Cruiser off the road and stopped. He climbed out and returned with a well-worn day pack. From the top of the pack jutted four pieces of three-quarter inch PVC. Samuel took hold of the pipe and pulled, sliding them out of the pack. One meter long. Small screws set at intervals. Elbows for forming a square. He handed them over, then dug into the pack again, finding white cotton cord wrapped around a stick. Opening the pack wider, he stared inside, then pulled out two books. Plants of Nairobi National Park, and The Plants of South Central Kenya.
“That’s responsive.” Jack took one book and flipped through the pages. Dichotomous key. Perfect. “I’m impressed. You have everything we need to get started.”
“They are Gabriel Kagunda’s. I intend to return them to his wife, but not until I have cleaned the blood from his pack.”
Jack glanced over. Reddish black stained the nylon. “Should we be using this?” Jack whispered.
Samuel looked up. “I think he would want us to do so, to continue his work. I will ask his wife, but for now, show me what this is for.”
Jack exited the Land Cruiser, PVC in hand. He plugged the long pieces into the elbows, then strung the cord between screws. “Nine equal squares. Three by three, defined by the cotton cord. This is a quadrat. Basic tool of the plant ecologist.” He let it drop. It lay over grass and forbs. “Gabriel prescribed using what are called Daubenmire cover classes. Common methodology in rangeland studies. Very commonly used in the United States and, I suppose, elsewhere. Two days ago, I was helping a colleague, using this very methodology.”
Samuel nodded.
“Daubenmire used half a dozen cover classes, from as small as zero to five percent . . . the mid-point of which is two point five percent . . . to as large as complete coverage . . . ninety-five to one hundred percent for the class. So, these grasses, are, uh, . . .” He reached for the park plant book.
“Themeda triandra and Bothriochloa insculpta.”
Jack glanced over. “Serious?” He opened the index at the back of the book, found Themeda triandra and turned to the page. He studied the picture, then looked at the grass.