CHAPTER 49
After rehashing what had happened in Kinshasa with the Belgian soldiers, we finally did fall asleep.
On awakening, we discussed our plans for the day. So as to do something different, and to keep things interesting for ourselves, we planned on approaching the enemy from an alternate angle this time. Our first challenge was to find some would-be poachers who were about to commit their acts of cruelty and depravity.
Nearby Eagles and Hawks spotted our subjects when it was still early in the morning. They were three men in a Land Rover, driving to a stand of trees about a hundred yards from the river. Eddie Meany, Hank Salt-Croydon, and Teddy Bouquet were seeking a safe spot from which they could shoot as many Elephants, Rhinos, and Lions as they could. They hoped to kill the Elephants with the largest tusks, the Rhinos with the largest horns, and the Lions with the most impressive manes. Then they would de-tusk, de-horn, and decapitate them as quickly as possible, before heading back home for an uproarious night of revelry on the town.
It didn’t turn out that way for them, though. Not even close.
Hank Salt-Croydon was the guide and driver. He did not take part in the actual shooting, but this was not out of any goodness of heart on his part, but only because he was a rotten shot and the others didn’t want him to scare away the game before they got their chance to bag what they considered to be their fair share of it.
Eddie Meany was the best shot (the animals understandably considered him to be the worst shot, though — or the worst shooter, anyway).
Teddy Bouquet, who was the best of the lot at butchering the animals once they had been “dispatched” (as the poachers euphemistically put it), was also tolerably accurate with a rifle.
Aquila the Eagle and Accipiter Justice the Hawk glided down to Jubatus the Cheetah, who was talking shop and trash with some Gazelles, Springboks, and Impalas. Jubatus had been boasting that he was faster than any of them, and he was about to prove it.
On receiving the report from Aquila and A.J. as to the location of the three poachers, Jubatus sprang away with such speed to deliver the news to the front lines that it seemed to those remaining behind as if he had left some of his spots behind, shimmering and quivering in the air.
Having overheard the last of Jubatus’ boasting, though, a Peregrine Falcon named Falcona took it upon herself to see if she could make it to Albert by air before Jubatus could get there by land.
The Cheetah had gotten off to an impressive start, but Falcona kept gaining on him. Jubatus did not even know he was in a race. He was so intent on getting to Albert and me and the rest as quickly as animally possible that he was concentrating on nothing but the terrain in front of him. He altered course where he saw impediments in front of him, always taking the quickest route he could, so as to arrive in record time. He didn’t know what the record time was, exactly, but whatever it was he wanted to beat it. It was because of this single-mindedness and intense focus on his part that he didn’t notice Falcona flying far above him.
On coming within sight of the group gathered at Five Dunes, Jubatus at first sped up but then, as he came into the midst of the gathered animals, gradually reduced the speed of his galloping so that he wouldn’t stop so abruptly on reaching those of us at the forefront that he would flip end over end, rolling unceremoniously on the ground, tail over teakettle; for that would have been embarrassing to him.
As Jubatus began his deceleration, Alexis noticed a shadow on the ground zooming toward her and Albert. She looked up just in time to see Falcona diving straight at them, wings tucked in, following a steep glide slope.
“Albert, look! It’s a Peregrine Falcon!” Alexis said, involuntarily flapping her wings in alitement (a combination of alarm and excitement).
Albert had been watching Jubatus intently, eagerly awaiting his arrival and report, but quickly looked up when Alexis screeched out her message. Albert stuck out his left arm reflexively with no time to spare, arresting the flight of the fastest animal on the planet as Falcona “reined herself in” and alighted there.
It was a good thing for Albert that he was wearing a long-sleeve shirt that morning, because Falcona did indeed have, not just large, but also sharp, talons.
Falcona had reached the air-splitting speed of 240 mph on this dive, which was triple Jubatus’ top speed of 80 mph, and had thus closed the gap and overtaken the Cheetah, winning by a feather the race only she knew was being run (or, in her case, flown).
Jubatus was surprised and a bit outraged at this one-upanimalship of Falcona’s. It even caused him to gasp in shock at the Raptor’s audacity, but this was exactly what he needed to do in order to catch his breath. Before Falcona could say anything (she was basking in the glow of her victory, and had only then opened her beak to report the news she had raced to deliver), Jubatus quickly told Albert and me and the rest of us about the arrival of the three poachers.
Meany, Salt-Croydon, and Bouquet would soon be prepared to begin their morning’s grisly work, so we had no time to lose.
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