The Boy and the Poacher's Moon. Pamela Newham. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Pamela Newham
Издательство: Ingram
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Детские приключения
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780798181372
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Vusi had turned his attention to the girl in the pink baseball cap. She was still busy with her cellphone.

      Billy flopped back in his seat. Aaargh! Why did he always sound like an idiot? He wished he could be like Vusi. Never without a smart answer. Nothing shy about him.

      Vusi had moved across and was sitting next to the cellphone girl.

      “WhatsApp, Facebook, Instagram or Snapchat?” Vusi asked.

      “What?” she said and looked up, startled.

      “You haven’t stopped since we got on the bus,” he said. “Am I interrupting a long conversation with your boyfriend?”

      By the expression on her face, Billy could tell she was not happy to be interrupted. “I’m just …” Then she glanced at the three curious faces watching her, shrugged and swiped her phone.

      “So, what’s your name?” asked Vusi.

      “Surina Govender,” she replied.

      “Riiight,” said Vusi. “I’m guessing you’re from KZN too.”

      “No actually, Bloemfontein,” Surina said. She raised her eyebrows at Vusi and tilted her head to one side. Then she turned her big dark eyes on Billy.

      He gulped. “Um, hi,” he said. “I’m Billy.”

      Vusi pointed to himself. “And I’m Vusi, and that’s Jabu. So now we all know each other. Bloem, hey? What do you do for fun in Bloemfontein? Seems pretty dead to me.”

      “Oh really?” Surina said in a bored voice.

      “What do you think, hey Billy? Ever been to Bloem?”

      Billy shook his head.

      “Oh well, I guess you just ain’t a travellin’ man, my bru.” Vusi’s attempt at an American accent was dismal.

      Surina looked at Vusi and sighed. Then she gave Billy a smile and rolled her eyes. She turned back to her cellphone.

      Billy felt his mouth go dry again. He wanted to say something, but his mind was one big fat blank. He was saved by Bokkie trotting up the aisle towards them.

      “Good, you’re all getting to know each other,” she said, handing them each an itinerary. “Have a look through it, and if you’ve got any questions, just ask. You’ll see that before we get to Kruger, we’re going to stop off at our farm, which is also the WILD2SAVE headquarters. My husband, Schalk, can’t wait to meet you all. You’ll also get to meet Thandi. She’s a young ranger at Kruger, and she will be showing you around this weekend. Sound good?”

      They all nodded, and Vusi said, “A farm, hey. What do you grow there?”

      Bokkie had a strange way of twitching her nose, Billy noticed. With her big brown eyes and soft ginger hair, she did look like a little buck. Maybe that’s where she got her name from.

      “Well, we don’t actually grow things or keep cattle on the farm anymore because we’re busy setting it up as a wildlife sanctuary,” she said. “Our plan is to keep injured animals or those that are endangered. We’re also going to set up a learning centre to teach young guys like you about conservation.”

      “Sounds cool,” said Vusi.

      Jabu asked, “What animals have you got?”

      “We’re just starting out so not too many yet. Some impala, kudu, a few zebra. But we do have something very special, which you’ll see when …”

      There was a loud shriek. All eyes turned to Surina.

      “What’s up?” asked Vusi.

      Surina held up the itinerary. “It says here that when we get to Kruger, we have to hand in our cellphones.” She looked at them, her dark eyes wide. “But that’s insane. I can’t survive without my phone!”

      Billy and Vusi glanced at each other, then burst out laughing. The look on Surina’s face was something else.

      3

      The early morning sun touched the distant flat-topped koppies. It was that time just before the birds began their early morning wake-up call. Game ranger Piet Smit climbed out of his bakkie and took a deep breath. It was his favourite time of the day in Kruger.

      But not this particular day.

      He stared down at her. He didn’t feel angry. That would come later. Just drained. Once again, they had been too late.

      Around him, members of the task team formed to deal with poaching were already at work gathering evidence. A man from the Hawks was taking photographs. Piet knew these would be entered into a database which was growing by the day. Someone else would take DNA samples.

      An SANDF officer was on his radio calling in air support. As soon as it was properly light, a helicopter would be sent up to scout the area. But it was unlikely they’d find them. They would either be long gone or lying low. The cops would have to bring in the sniffer dogs to try to pick up their trail.

      “They knew what they were doing,” said the officer from the Hawks, kneeling on the ground to examine the rhino more closely. Piet dropped onto his haunches and stared at the blood-encrusted face where once her horn had been.

      He stood up and nodded. “Ja, I’ve seen this oke’s work before. If he’s got time, he uses a sharp knife instead of an axe. He’s good. Just slips it around the seam of the horn and basically pries it out.”

      “We can only hope the cow was already dead,” said the Hawks man.

      Piet stared down at the bullet holes in her neck. “What calibre?” he asked.

      “I’d say a .375. He probably used those soft-nosed bullets. To make sure the job got done.”

      Piet nodded. He knew those particular bullets expanded on impact. And did the most damage.

      He lifted his hand. “Thanks.” He walked back towards his bakkie. What made it really tough was that they had known. They had been tipped off but still had not managed to stop the slaughter. One more rhino gone.

      Hornblower.

      Who the hell was he? Or she. After Piet had received the first anonymous e-mail a while back, some bright spark on the task team had come up with the name Hornblower.

      The problem was that nothing had come out of that first e-mail. So when the second one had arrived yesterday, it wasn’t surprising his commanding officer had been sceptical.

      Captain Absalom Dlamini had been at his desk when Piet brought the printout to him. He had read it and tossed it down.

      “Piet, you get all kinds of crazies out there, man. This could be a hoax. The last time we got a tip from this bloke, I put everyone on high alert, and nothing happened. We’ve got enough on our shoulders without going on a wild goose chase.” He had tapped the edge of his desk with his fingers.

      Piet could understand his captain’s reluctance. Each day, he had to make decisions based on very little information.

      When Piet had joined SANParks, his job had been pretty straightforward. There was poaching, of course, but on a scale that the rangers could still handle. But not anymore.

      Now they were fighting a war. And the enemy was relentless. When rhino poaching started to escalate, a special task team had been set up in the Kruger Park, and Piet had been chosen to be part of it. Others in the team consisted of members of the police force – including the Organised Crime Unit – and soldiers from the SANDF. The rangers had received gruelling paramilitary training. Piet told himself that it was necessary, but still felt uneasy in his new role. He was a conservationist, not a soldier.

      But they had no option. Just about every day, heavily armed militia entered Kruger over the border from Mozambique. Not that there weren’t plenty of local people involved as well. And Piet knew it wasn’t enough just to catch the poachers.

      They