Tembiza

Chapter 1

Gary Stratford stood at the counter while the new contingent of visitors exited their luxury air-conditioned bus and entered reception to check in for their ten-day stay at Tembiza Ranch. A headcount told him that all twenty-four folks were now present and he drew their attention with the porter’s bell on the desk.

Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome. My name is Gary and I am manager of this establishment. If you can speak and understand English, please raise your hand.

Evidently, all could.

Thank you. I asked because I see we have five different nationalities in this, our eighty-ninth intake, and the first since reopening after our two-month seasonal shutdown. We at Tembiza speak only English and one or two African languages. He paused for comments.

We have, on previous occasions, had guests who could neither speak nor understand English too well, but I am happy to say we got by and they had an enjoyable stay. After all, the focus is on animals and invariably visitors bring literature and books from home, plus we have reference books scattered around as well as a small limited library and video. But we all manage to communicate and hopefully learn something new every day. Has everyone understood what I have said so far? After short pause, Gary continued.

Excellent. After you have checked in, please attach your luggage tags to your baggage, which will then be delivered to your bungalow. You have a few hours to rest and freshen up and we can meet in the bar at 6pm, where I will buy you a pre-dinner welcome drink and we can mingle and get to know each other. At seven, we will sit down to dinner, and I will join you each evening. So, until later, please settle in and make yourselves at home.

At 6pm, his new pristine, white short-sleeved cotton shirt was in sharp contrast to his weather- and sun-beaten arms and face, and his six-foot frame, topped with almost blond hair bleached by the sun. He posed a handsome figure as he stood at the bar entrance shaking hands with guests as they filtered through. Everyone was afforded a warm smile, and, during the course of the hour, Gary managed to say at least a few words to each of all twenty-four resident guests. All seemed relaxed and quite at ease despite having endured more than twenty-four hours of travelling from Europe.

At 7pm, Gary gestured towards the dining room and, within a few minutes, all were seated and settled. There being twenty-five chairs, he strode across to the one vacant seat, and, before sitting down, he tapped an empty wine glass with a spoon, again drawing attention.

Ladies and gentleman, it is me again. You will have no doubt noticed that tonight for this special occasion I have abandoned the traditional khaki uniform in favour of Tembiza’s evening dress. I only have one white shirt in my wardrobe, so it’s back to the khaki uniform tomorrow, I’m afraid. Anyway, I again bid you all a warm welcome. Before settling down to our sumptuous feast, a few words about our ranch. Tembiza has approximately eight thousand hectares and I do believe we have as many indigenous wild animals, reptiles, insects, birds and living species as any South African ranch. I personally guarantee you will see the Big Five–

There was a brief spontaneous applause, after which he continued. "As well as all fauna and flora. Some animals are a little shy – the leopard, for instance – but we will do our best, even if it means a trip to our sister ranch ten miles away. We have six game-viewing vehicles, all commanded by well-qualified game experts who also serve as drivers. A seventh vehicle remains on standby in the unlikely case of a breakdown, but is really set aside for specific assignments such as film making, documentaries and photo shoots. At an extra charge, of course, so, if anyone has a specific requirement, please let us know in advance, as you will have to be accompanied by one our game scouts.

"Any questions? Okay, just dos and don’ts. Only get off your vehicle at a designated stop for refreshments and comfort break. We provide our own purified water free of charge. If you prefer to bring your own bottled water, please do so, but do not consume any non-purified water. And drink plenty in the heat of the day to avoid dehydration. The northern boundary has two dams and a perennial river. This area is clearly marked as a ‘no go’ area with Chevron tape. Until we have completed our construction work and safety concerns there, please regard this as out of bounds and dangerous. We also have rhino on the ranch and, although we have had no incidents of poaching here yet, the murderers are known to be active in the area, especially down the road at Kruger Park, where two, sometimes three rhinos are slaughtered every day.

Breakfast is available from six-thirty and game drives begin at seven-thirty sharp. Please be punctual. You will return to base about eleven-thirty for an early lunch and a rest. We set off again at three-thirty when it is a bit cooler and we return around five-thirty when we then invite you to join us on the elevated viewing platform for a sundowner and to exchange the day’s experiences. Please bring your own refreshments, which you can purchase at the bar if you so wish.

He paused to respond should there any questions. After an appropriate break, he continued. Traditionally, wine on the first night is on the house and the servers are standing by. Thank you for your attention, and enjoy our fare and hospitality.

He acknowledged the muted applause and the waiters moved around the tables filling glasses. All guests seemed relaxed and content as the chatter increased.

Chapter 2

After a good night’s rest in his temporary, but adequate tented accommodation, Gary was in the saddle of his horse, Nugget, by five-thirty to carry out the daily inspection of the ranch, looking out for dead or snared animals. There were one or two on almost every occasion. Snared animals were cut loose if injuries were not too severe and they could recover; otherwise, they were quietly put down and left for the many predators and scavengers that would soon clean up, leaving no trace. Since all eight thousand hectares could not possibly be checked thoroughly every day, Gary divided the ranch into five sections, which could be covered in a week. For ease of reference, areas were given more explicit location numbers and the entire ranch would have been inspected systematically.

A small plume of smoke told Gary that poachers had been in that location the night before, but had scarpered before dawn. This was not uncommon and little could be done. They, too, had to eat and feed their families and the few antelope taken in a week was not really significant. However, Gary took deep exception to wire snares, which most often led to a long, suffering and painful death, and, to him, snares were indiscriminate killers. A snare was easily spotted and, rather than take bundles of wire to the warehouse, he would use wire cutters to render the short pieces useless. On one occasion, shortly after releasing a snared kudu bull using a dart with a tranquiliser, he had caught a poacher in the act of setting up another snare. He had held him at gunpoint while he radioed Mwaza for help. On Mwaza’s arrival, the poacher was wrist bound to a tree with his own wire and left for the day and through the night. If the predators and scavengers didn’t get him, he would be set free the next morning. A poacher surely would not return after such a terrifying experience. On that occasion, the trespasser was, in fact, unharmed and released. He had taken off at speed and it was most unlikely he would ever return to Tembiza.

Once in a while, Gary would set out with a tractor and trailer and a few men for the purpose of culling antelope such as impala males rejected by the females, having served their purpose in procreation and falling out of favour, or aged animals who had outlived their usefulness. For this purpose, he used a crossbow or a small bore rifle with a silencer, since the crack of a rifle shot tended to make animals skittish. Staff claimed their share of the culling, and the surrounding villages in rotation were given the balance. Since he had started this practice, there had been a noticeable decline in poaching on Tembiza. Gary had gained the support and respect of the headmen and villagers in surrounding settlements. Mwaza likewise detested poachers and snares, and was as totally unsympathetic as was Gary in the treatment of these trespassers. Certainly, professional hunters would not be entertained, nor would trophy hunters who killed solely for the sake of personal glory. The inevitable boot on the head of a perfect dead specimen was captured on film – with the photo of the gloating, smiling big white hunter for his trophy room back home.

Gary returned to the lodge at seven-thirty, just in time to see his guests head off on their first excursion, and he was glad to have a few quiet hours in the office to catch up on paperwork. Thereafter, he would set about assembling the refurbished John Deere tractor engine, which would probably take up the rest of his day.

Chapter 3

Suddenly, Gary’s radio crackled and came to life. His Seiko told him it was 3pm.

Come in, Mwaza.

They are here, Gary.

Who are here?

Rhino poachers. They have killed a young female and removed her horn. It must have just happened. Her body is still warm. I saw them at a distance and gave chase. They split. One carrying a bag and a rifle ran in the direction of the north boundary and the other two east. Baleka and Gajema were on to those two, but they are too clever. They sprayed something and my dogs lost the scent.

Where are you?

Location Forty-Seven.

Okay, I’ll head north and chase after the one with the bag, which no doubt contains the trophy.

Gary figured that, if the killer was only minutes ahead, he would have a chance, as the load would slow him down as he tired.

Within a minute, Gary had his Yamaha 250 scrambler at full throttle, rifle across his back, taking the most likely path. In the distance, he caught a glimpse of his man, weapon in one hand and bag in the other. He soon drew level, grabbed a sand bag from the back of his seat and walloped the man behind the head. He went down hard, but he was on his feet again in seconds, having dropped both his rifle and the trophy bag, and he was off again. Gary abandoned his bike and rifle and gave chase on foot. The dam came into view and his foe kept running in that direction, perhaps hoping the water would assist in his escape. Unfortunately for him, two crocodiles lay submerged in the shallows at the edge of the dam awaiting the snout of a thirsty antelope when suddenly this unexpected meal arrived. They tore the man to shreds in minutes. Gary winced as he watched with grim satisfaction. Justice had been served.

The loss of a rhino saddened him and he walked back to his Yamaha, strapped the two rifles and the bloody rhino horn to the carrier and headed back to base, reporting to Mwaza on the way.

Back at base, Gary filled Mwaza in on the details as he hosed down the horn, the rifle and the Yamaha.

They will be back, I am sure, but we will make it a little more difficult. From tomorrow, an armed guard with radio contact will patrol in the proximity twenty-four-seven. Meantime, I will call the police post and invite them around to collect the horn and weapon. I will also call the crocodile farm down the road and ask if they are in need of a rhino carcass free of charge.

It was five o’clock when he scrubbed his hands and washed his face before heading for the viewing platform to meet with the guests who would soon arrive. On his arrival, he activated the pump, which would create a fine cooling spray-mist, something he had recently and proudly installed. He pulled his weary forty-year-old body up the dozen steps and collapsed thankfully into a canvas chair. The atomised water spray was a godsend, and he cracked open a can of Coke taken from his pocket. Reflecting on the day, he was soon interrupted by the periodic arrival of a group of weary, but excited guests.

I trust you all had a satisfying first day, said Gary once most, if not all, were present.

Fantastic was the general consensus. They had apparently already ticked most of the major boxes on the checklist.

I had a better day than anyone, said Ludwig, the German fellow, proudly.

Really? How was that? asked Gary.

Well, when you chased and downed that guy who then ran into the dam.

You saw that?

Not only did I see it, I have it all on film. Worth a fortune.

But that is a restricted area. You should not have been there.

Listen, Mister Ranger, I pay the money and I go where I please, he said with some unnecessary arrogance. You rangers are all the same. Treat your guests like school children. Well, I am not your student. I got off the vehicle and told the driver I’ll find my own way back. He protested, but I just kept walking.

Mister Ludwig.

It’s Ludwig Baden, he interrupted.

Very well, Mister Baden, you could have been taken by a lion and we have plenty of them.

But I wasn’t. Listen again, Mister Ranger, I’ve seen more wild animals and ranches than you have. I am no stranger to the wild.

That may be so, but management is responsible for your safety.

So, Mister Ranger, what are you going to do? Kick me out? Chain me to my bed?

No. I will prepare and ask you to sign a declaration of indemnity saying that you will not hold this ranch responsible for any loss, damage or injury to yourself whatsoever.

Does that mean I can go where I please?

I suppose it does. You are on your own.

A very attractive Mrs Baden said something in German quietly to her arrogant husband, probably asking him to ‘cool it’.

You shut up, woman; mind your own business, he said to her loudly and angrily.

The twenty-odd people were taken