‘No … we should just let them out. Wildlife has already said we must keep them in for three months. They’re not going to change their minds now.’
David nodded. ‘You’re right. Remember what we said one night after they came back from Umfolozi? That to get this herd on side we had to get the matriarch to trust at least one human? Well, that’s now happened. She trusts you.’
‘OK. Radio Ndonga and tell him to make sure the outer fence is fully powered. We’ll let them out into the reserve early tomorrow.’
We drove back to the boma and the enormity of what we were about to do hit me. If I was wrong and the herd broke out, they would be killed. I started having second thoughts, but while doing the final fence patrol for the night, I noticed the elephants were more relaxed and calmer than I had ever seen them before. It was almost as if they anticipated something special was about to happen. Sensing that made me feel better.
At 5 a.m. a game guard radioed me from the energizer shed to say that power was ‘off’ in the boma. David lifted the gate’s hefty horizontal eucalyptus poles off their hinges.
I called out to Nana, who was standing at the fence about fifty yards away, and deliberately walked in and out of the entrance a couple of times to show it was open. Then Davidand I went and stood on top of an anthill at a safe distance from the entrance to get a grandstand view.
For twenty minutes nothing happened. Eventually Nana ambled over to the gate and tested the space with her trunk for some invisible impediment. Satisfied, she moved forward, herd in tow, and then inexplicably stopped halfway through the exit. For some reason she would go no further.
Ten minutes later she was still standing there motionless. I turned to David, ‘What’s going on? Why doesn’t she go out?’
‘It must be the water in front of the gate,’ he said. ‘The trench we dug for the delivery truck is full of rain and she doesn’t like it. I think she won’t go through because it’s too deep for Mandla.’
Then, for the first time, we witnessed a graphic demonstration of Nana’s Herculean strength.
On either side of the gate stood two eight-foot-high, eightinch-wide eucalyptus poles sunk thirty inches into concrete. Nana inspected these with her trunk, then put her head down and gave a push. The shafts buckled as the concrete foundations popped out of the ground like corks.
David and I stared at each other, stunned. ‘My God,’ I said, ‘we couldn’t even have done that with the tractor. And to think that yesterday I was letting her touch me!’
The way around the trench was now clear and Nana wasted no more time, hurrying the herd down a game path directly to the river. We watched the thick summer bush swallow them up.
‘I hope we’ve done the right thing,’ I said.
‘We have. She was ready.’
I could only hope that he was right.
chapter ten
As soon as the herd disappeared, we struck camp. All this entailed was throwing sleeping bags and a fire-blackened kettle into the back of the Land Rover, but it was symbolic in the sense that we were moving on.
Max was still at the boma gate, watching the woodland that had seemingly gobbled up the elephants. I called him and he looked up askance, as if asking if I wanted him to pursue the animals. If I had said ‘Fetch!’ I have no doubt he would have bounded into the bush. Size meant nothing to him; he was absolutely without fear and had no concept that a single lift of Nana’s foot would have converted him into a pancake.
After dropping David off at the lodge, I drove to the Ovambo guards’ cottage to give an update.
I was about hundred yards away when Ndonga came sprinting up waving his arms. ‘Quick, Mr Anthony. Turn off the motor and keep quiet,’ he whispered. ‘There’s a leopard about forty yards ahead … just to the right of us.’
I killed the engine and squinted into the bush, my eyes scouring every inch of the area where he was pointing … and saw nothing.
‘A leopard out in broad daylight? Can’t be.’
Ndonga put a finger to his lips. ‘I saw it just two minutes ago as you were driving up. Just keep still … it’ll come outagain. Just watch that big bush over there. That’s where it came down.’
The thicket was certainly big enough to hide a leopard. But leopards are primarily nocturnal and it would be highly unusual to see one wandering around at midday.
Then out of the corner of my eye I spotted one of the Ovambos come out from behind the house and nod at Ndonga. He was wiping his hands with a rag, which he quickly stuffed into his pocket when he saw me looking at him.
Ndonga, who had been crouching near the car, stood up.
‘Well, I suppose you’re right, boss. Your Land Rover would have frightened it off anyway. Pity. It’s the first leopard I’ve seen on Thula.’
I nodded. We knew there were several leopards on the reserve from their tracks and the markings I’d seen recently by the Land Rover had confirmed it, but they had been vigorously hunted before we took over and as a result were so secretive that few had seen them. Thus Ndonga’s account of one of these beautiful dappled cats bounding out of a tree in brassy sunlight so close to human habitation was absolutely amazing.
‘So what’s happening, Mr Anthony?’ he asked.
‘We’ve let the herd out. I want all of your guards to go on patrol and track them. Also, check the fences. Make sure the power stays up permanently. And double-check that there are no trees anywhere even remotely close by. I don’t want the elephants shorting the wires
