| Author |
 Topic  |
|
Explorer
971 Posts |
 Posted - May 26 2008 : 09:22:26 AM
|
Finn aimed her motion picture camera at a pride of lions feeding on the carcass of a zebra that had run afoul of a .318 Westley-Richards bullet from one of Roxton's rifles. The camera was mounted on a tripod for steadiness.
She cranked the camera from the safety of the car, Blacklaws sitting beside her with a rifle in hand. Another safari car loitered in the background, so as not to disturb the lions. Hamilton was at the steering wheel of Finn's car, ready to accelerate if a lion came too close. They wanted to avoid shooting any lions that weren't selected for that, as good trophies. Lionesses and younger lions were safe, as long as they didn't become too serious a threat.
Finn was allowed to film from the car, although the hunters had pointed out that both law and custom proscribed shooting animals from one. Not sporting, you see. The hunter must risk death or injury. Only a cowardly dolt would fire from the safety of a vehicle, even when shooting ordinary meat animals. Just not done, you see. Not the proper pukka sahib approach. So went the explanation when Ned had asked. His question had earned him scornful looks from both hunters. The gauche American, said their faces.
Hamilton eased the car around so that Finn could film from different angles. When she had exposed as much film as she wished, they pulled slowly away from the lions, who gave them baleful looks in parting. But none had gone for the car, and no ammunition had been expended.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
 |
|
|
Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - May 26 2008 : 10:02:36 AM
|
The cars joined one another, and Finn sprang out, telling Roxton, Challenger, and the Malones how excited she was at the footage that she had just filmed. "This will really thrill movie audiences back home!" she exulted.
She received congratulations, and the cars moved on to a nearby village, where Blacklaws hoped to hire a local scout who would know where buffalo were at this time. He would probably have a good idea where exceptional bulls could be found.
Soon, seated in the village, the hunters palavered with the chief. They exchanged formal speech, inquiring after crops and the health of children, etc., before serious negotiations could begin. Custom had to be honored.
As the professionals negotiated, Roxton entertained the others with tales of the African frontier. He told of John Boyes, who had gone among the Kikuyu in the old days, trading with treacherous people whom most whites then avoided. Miraculuosly, he had survived, and become well to do from the relationship that he established with them.
He talked, too, of W.D.M. "Karamojo" Bell, who had shot over 1100 elephants, and become wealthy from the sale of ivory in the days before game laws had restricted the number of elephant that a person could legally shoot. Others had shot many elephant, too, but Bell was famed for using light rifles, such as others reserved for smaller antelope, leopard and similar game. Those favoring large bore (caliber) rifles had scoffed at hiim, but others supported his writing. They were in camps referred to as "large bores" and "small bores", based on the calibers they favored.
Bell had drolly quipped, "I hope that I'm not a bore at all."
When Roxton quoted that line he received the predictable laughs, then someone proposed making tea. This was universally approved and they did that.
A boy called Jomo served, and they were sipping tea and eating cookies when a native ran up hollering something that seemed urgent.
The white hunters heard, and ran over. "He says that baboons are chasing some women in the fields. One has been badly bitten. The women are afraid to return to the fields. We're needed there." Hamilton asked for volunteers, and the Challengers, Marguerite, and Ned leaped aboard one of the cars and they were off in a flurry of dust.
They found a troop of baboons in the open, threatening, making short rushes toward a group of women who were cowering in and just below a tree.
"Ned, why don't you have a go at that lot with your new Winchester?" suggested Blacklaws.
Malone had brought a Winchester M-54 from the States, chambered for a new cartridge, the .270 Winchester. It had only been available for three years, but had a good reputation among those who had used it in North America. The 130 grain bullet was very effective on deer, pronghorn, and similar animals, and was becoming well liked by those who hunted mountain sheep. But the .270 was new in Africa, and Blacklaws was curious to see how it would fare against hyenas and similar game, not to mention the smaller buck that they shot for food.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - May 26 2008 : 6:28:53 PM
|
They bailed out of the vehicle, staggering themselves in a line so as to get a wide variety of angles in shooting at the troop. The baboons had seldom seen a car, yet were apprehensive. They were within 125 yards, and easily saw the people, and some did know what Europeans with guns meant.
One old male barked an alarm call, cut short by a bullet from Marguerite's .275. She had decided to accompany her friends, and had been angered by the baboons' attack on the helpless women, who had a hard enough job in tending the crops. Moreover, if pests were not kept in check, the natives would starve. Her heart went out to the villagers, and she settled her rifle sights on the big simian and pressed the trigger.
He leaped into the air with a frightful yelp, and fell dead.
Finn and Malone shot several others, as did Blacklaws. Malone made a fine running shot on one, and saw with satisfaction that the .270 was indeed an effective caliber. The bullet was so fast, over 3,000 feet per second according to Winchester, that very litle lead was required on running game at this range, and his first two running shots actually went ahead of the baboons. Then, he guessed the right lead, and bowled over two more before they ran out of range and got into the woods around a koppje. (Hill.)
Marguerite got the first aid kit from the car, and they went over to the screaming, weeping women and treated the slashes and bites that several had. The women wailed and two prostrated themselves on the ground, blessing Marguerite and her friends. "Assante sana, Mem'Sahib" was much heard. Very many thanks, white lady.
Ned looked with wonder and satisfaction at the baboons that he had killed. The .270 had been so effective that he decided to use it on larger animals. Hamilton guessed his thoughts and said, "Hit any meat animals in the lungs with that, Ned. We don't want good meat being bloodshot. And don't ask to use that small bullet on buffalo or anything larger."
Ned protested. "It's basically about like your 7mm or .275, just a lighter, faster bullet."
"Yes, well, I don't shoot buff, rhino, or elephant with a .275, either," answered the hunter. "But I'd like to see how your new American caliber will fare on kudu or sable antelope. Perhaps we shall have the opportunity."
Spearmen and archers had now arrived, and would stay the afternoon, to protect the women as they worked. The warriors would not themselves work in the fields, as that was womens' work.
Finn made a sarcastic comment about that, but Marguerite shushed her. "These people aren't just black versions of ourselves, Finny. Their customs and beliefs are very different. We need to get along with them. Bloody heathens! But we aren't going to change them anytime soon."
Finn grumbled, but saw the point and said no more as they returned to the village.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - May 26 2008 : 6:58:03 PM
|
They talked about their adventure as they returned to their tea and snacks, with sandwiches made by the kitchen boy.
"Did you see the teeth on those baboons?", marvelled Marguerite. "Those are pretty scary. I'd hate to meet one of those fellows in a dark alley!"
Blacklaws agreed. "Yes, they're quite dangerous, and are sometimes very aggressive. I daresay that we taught them a lesson today. But even a leopard fears those teeth. Several of those big baboons will see a cat off very shortly, if the leopard has any sense. But leopards also kill many of them. If they can get one alone, or a young one, the leopard probably has dinner at hand. Leopards are their main predator, and there's no love lost between the two species. You should see a troop of baboons demonstrating if they see a leopard. Pretty noisy. Lots of acrobatics."
"A tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing," quoted Marguerite. She was well versed in Shakespeare.
"Oh, no, Marguerite," corrected Hamilton. "It does mean something. Most things that animals do mean something. Maybe you'll learn that while you're here. Safari can be quite an education."
"Are you or Geoff educated enough about animals that you can get me a shot at a kudu today?"
He smiled. "Touche. Well, we'll give it a go. But I think we'd better head back to camp for your bathi and that hairwash before dinner. But we might just manage to let you pop a warthog on the way. There are quite a few about here. Have your rifle ready."
"Oh," smirked Marguerite. "my guns are always loaded. It's just you boys who sometimes have trouble getting one to go off!" She leered lewdly at Hamilton, who blushed scarlet.
"Marguerite!", stormed her husband. "That's hardly ladylike talk!"
"I know," she admitted, "but men are so easy to tease. It's one of my favorite sports."
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - May 27 2008 : 09:36:44 AM
|
Halfway to camp, they did spy a warthog trotting along, and Marguerite slapped a 175 grain .275 bullet through its shoulder. The pig squealed, collapsed, and took a second bullet in the neck before it died.
"Piga m'zuri sana, Mem'Sahib!" grinned her gunbearer. Very good shot, lady.
Marguerite smiled triumphantly. "It's about time that I took a real shot at a male chauvinist pig instead of limiting myself to verbal jabs!" Her husband and the other men rolled their eyes, looked at each other, and said nothing.
She was astounded by the long ivory tusks that Hamilton told her might have done vicious work on her had she come to grips with the animal. Warthogs were tough, and most beasts left them alone.
"We'll have pork with applesauce for dinner from this," said Blacklaws. "You'll find it leaner and better tasting than domestic pork, and you can be proud of a clean kill, and of bringing it to bag. The mount will look very impressive, too. Those tusks are nice ones."
In camp, they ate a snack to tide them over until supper, and Marguerite had her bath in the canvas tub. "Mimi lette hotti mojo, Mem'Sahib," said the personal boy, letting her know that the hot bath water was ready.
After luxuriously towelling off and dressing, she sat in a camp chair while Juma shampooed her hair. "I could get used to this. I dote on indolent luxury," she proclaimed.
Roxton walked over quietly, motioned Juma away, and took over the task, his eyes twinkling and a smile on his face. Juma was puzzled and a bit offended. He looked to Blacklaws for guidance. That worthy called him over and told him that white men were strange this way. Washing one's wife's hair was not seen as demeaning, but as romantic. Juma walked away, shaking his head. Truly, whites were strange creatures.
"Ah, I'd know those fingers wherever they fondle me, " quipped Marguerite. "Roxton, those are your hands, not the boy's. Just keep them in my hair while we're out here on public display. I embarrass easily."
He jerked her sable tresses playfully in response, poured water from a metal jug through her hair until it was clear of shampoo, and kissed her as she sat up. "There," he said. "Your hair is clean. It's your lascivious mind that I'm worried about." He began towelling her hair dry, Marguerite making purring noises as he worked.
She stood when he was done and held him close. "Thank you, John. That was so romantic. If I have to be out here in the middle of nowhere, waiting to be eaten by a lion or speared by some savage, it's you that I want washing my hair."
Finn, embarrassed a little by their intimacy, checked Challenger's hair. She had cut it for years, although he patronized a favorite barber when in London. Here, she would trim it herself, if need be. But it looked good, having been serviced a week ago in the ship's barber salon.
She walked over, sat on his lap, and said, "Hey, Genius. I just know that that film is going to look great. Tomorrow, I want to get some still pictures of snakes and other stuff. Want to come?"
He nodded and started to say something when Hamilton walked quickly over. He had been in deep conversation with the Wakamba tracker who had beheaded the snake that morning.
"Finn, how serious are you about wanting to shoot a lion? This fellow says that there is one of the largest black-maned examples that he has ever seen just over a hill to our left. The old boy is lying under a tree, napping, his lionesses on guard. Are you quite sure that you want to do this? It's going to need steady nerves. If he comes for you, I'll fire, too, but an angry lion is hard to stop.
Roxton, will you back us up, also? Geoff needs to stay here and organize dinner, if possible."
Finn stood, looked Challenger in the eye, and turned to the hunter.
"Stuart, I'm dead serious about it. As opposed to just being dead, which I may be, if I don't do this right. Which rifle should I use?"
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - May 29 2008 : 01:15:58 AM
|
"Which do you feel most comfortable with?" he asked. "The .375 or the .400?" The .400 was a W. J. Jeffery .450/.400 double rifle. The other was a Holland & Holland bolt-action rifle.
"What's the likely range?," Finn wanted to know. "If I have to stop a charge at close quarters, the double might be better. But it's heavier to carry, and I can shoot the .375 Magnum better at long range. If I place the first shot right, our life expectancy increases, right?" She managed a wan smile.
Hamilton laughed. "Good, that. I'm glad to see that you understand the odds, and can still joke about it. I rather fancy that you will fire the first shot at some 100 yards. If the cat comes for us, he'll move fast: a hundred yards in about six seconds. You may have time to cycle the bolt and get off a second shot. Hold low in the chest as he comes. Don't go for a head shot. A lion's skull slopes, and the bullet may well glance off. The mane makes it look like he has more forehead than he does. Nothing much to shoot at there. Take the low chest shot, and let the bullet range through the heart and any other organs that it can."
"Okay, the H&H then. " She turned to her gunbearer who was listening. ""Ali, toa .375 bunduki."
Hamilton's eyebrows rose. "My word, you ladies have been practicing your Swahili."
"I learned some at home," she admitted. "Really crucial, necessary stuff. Like, 'lette chai kwa mem'Sahib'." She grinned. That meant to bring the lady her tea.
"Hey, I married Himself the Professor here. I gotta learn to think British. After six years of looking after George, I know how important tea is to us Limeys, including us foreign, adopted ones."
"I should hope so," retorted Marguerite Roxton. "I tried to raise you right, Finnykins." She winked at her younger friend. "Look here: I'm going along, and I expect that George will, too. We can't let a child like Finn shoot her first lion without a support team. Besides, I want to see what I'm letting myself in for if I try to shoot one later. Finny is as bold as brass, and if she runs, I'll know that I need to, too."
"Don't run," said Hamilton. "It just isn't done. Makes us look bad to the natives, you see, and that's very bad form. Show the stiff upper lip and die British, but don't bloody well run. Lets down the white race and the nation. Death before dishonor; there's our duty." He looked serious, although he tried to be humorous.
"Finn isn't going to die, for heaven's sake," exclaimed her husband. "Wherever should I get another girl who looks like her and takes care of me half so well? Look here, Blacklaws, what do I need to tell this ruffian to have him bring my heavy rifle?" He looked at his gunbearer, Moses.
Blacklaws looked at Moses. "Toa bunduki m'kubwa kwa Bwana Challenger."
Moses brought the .465 Modele de Luxe Holland & Holland double rifle and a flat yellow box of the Kynoch cartridges. Challenger checked: softnosed bullets. Full metal jacketed "solids" were reserved for rhino, elephant, maybe hippo, or cape buffalo, under the right circumstances. Everything else got softnosed bullets that expanded as they penetrated, for added killing power.
He opened a box and put six cartridges into the loops on his bush shirt and dropped two more into the barrels of the heavy rifle. They went into the chambers with that hollow "thunk!" sound that was one of the noises associated with big double rifles and the romance that they generated. It was their equivalent to the four clicks that the cocking hammer of his Colt .45 single-action revolver made. Both sounds meant business.
"Hold two rounds between the fingers of your left hand, along the rifle's forearm," instructed Hamilton. "That way, you have a fast reload, if needed. Sometimes, it is needed, and as quick as you please. Otherwise, the path to dangerous game is the dusty road to Death. This is where the women get sorted out from the girls, pardon me, ladies. But this isn't something that we want to start unless we're prepared to finsh it." He looked soberly at Finn and at Marguerite.
Finn was nervous, but determined. She knew that she was a good, cool shot. She had faced jaguars, even dinosaurs, in the Amazonian jungle. Could this really be any worse? Besides, she wanted to test herself. Can I do this? She nodded at Hamilton, to let him know that she understood what he had said, and was accepting the risk.
Marguerite was typically sarcastic. "Oh, gosh, Stuart. I was planning on throwing away my rifle and raising my hands and yelling, 'I surrender' if the lion looked too angry. You mean that won't work?"
"Can't say," answered the hunter. "Never seen it done. But I wouldn't advise it. Lions generally have a very poor sense of humor once they've been shot at. If they're wounded, they have a very bad attitude, indeed."
"If they're dead, their attitude doesn't matter," noted Challenger. "No damned lion is getting my wife."
Finn was touched and was overcome with love. She wiped away a tear and stood on her toes to kiss Challenger. He held her close and caressed her hair.
"Oh, bloody hell. This is getting too sentimental. We're only going to risk our lives, before we've even had supper. It's not like we're doing anything major. Come along, John. Lets' get this show on the road." And Lady Roxton led the way to the hunting car.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - May 29 2008 : 02:05:15 AM
|
They motored over the hill and for several hundred yards until the Wakamba tapped Hamilton on the shoulder and pointed with his chin. "There, Bwana. Lions rest under big tree. Simba m'kubwa." Big lion...
They bailed out of the car and stalked forward, Hamilton and Finn ahead of the others. Roxton walked 15 yards behind, ready to lend a hand with his .416, if needed, but well out of the way if he wasn't. Challenger was on his right, intent that no lion reach his beloved mate. Marguerite and Veronica stayed in the car, but Marguerite loaded her .318 Westley Richards rifle with 250 grain bullets and lifted her binocular.
At 125 yards, the lion heard them, or sensed from the reaction of his lionesses that something was amiss. Two of the lady lions growled, a sound that rumbled deep in the blood and chilled the soul. It had been doing this since before people were fully human, on these African savannahs where our species arose in ancient times.
Finn turned over the safety on the rifle and tried to get closer. If she had to shoot, she wanted the first shot to go right where it should.
"Take him through the shoulder. Break him down. Now, as soon as you're sure of your shot." Hamilton was tense, but calm, his big .500 Nitro Express balanced in his hands as he awaited a charge.
The lion threw them a dirty look, filled his lungs and roared, the full blown thing that shook the long grass and terrified even strong men.
Finn knew that the moment of truth was at hand. In a moment, either the lion would turn and lope off, a difficult target, or he would come for her, claws out and teeth gleaming in the afternoon light, long white fangs that could crush her chest with a single bite into the thorax.
She stopped and lifted the rifle. The gold foresight showed in the wide vee of the British open rear sight. The rifle wavered as she sought to steady it. Finn weighed about 115 pounds and the rifle's nine pounds was as much as she cared to aim. The lion turned to face her, and the shoulder shot was lost. Now, she needed to hit the chest, and well.
"Shoot, dammit, " muttered Hamilton. "If you don't feel up to it, hold your fire, and we'll hope for a better chance later, on another lion."
The lion stood now, and walked stiffly towrd them, roaring once more. The sound of her shot was almost lost in the last syllables of the awesome noise of the roar, but she felt the rifle recoil. She reached desperately for the bolt handle, snapping the bolt of the Magnum Mauser action all the way back to eject the fired cartridge case, then forward to chamber her next round.
Hamilton heard the 270 grain softnosed bullet hit, a sinister hollow smack!, and the lion sat abruptly down. Then, he stood again and emitted a series of angry roars that would terrify any sane person, and came for them. Low, fast, determined...
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - May 29 2008 : 2:04:59 PM
|
Finn's second shot hit low in the chest as the lion came, precisely as the hunter had instructed. Her husband had already delivered a series of lectures on African animal anatomy before they had left home, and Lord Roxton had also briefed her on where to achieve a quick kill. Most of this information was almost identical to shooting tapir, jaguar, and similar animals that she had shot on the Plateau and on deer in Britain.
The lion rolled, straightened itself, shuddering as Hamilton slammed a 500 grain bullet into its left shoulder, and tried to limp on, roaring defiantly. Finn rammed a third cartridge into the chamber of her rifle and hit it again, this time breaking the back with a bullet that entered the chest, glanced off a bone, and careened upward. The lion dropped.
"Reload, fast!," commanded Hamilton. Challenger had run around to the right, staying out of the line of fire from his wife and Hamilton. He aimed at the lion, but it was soon plain that it was down and probably dead.
"Watch those lionesses, Professor," cautioned the hunter. "They will decide at any time whether to melt away or come for us. It can go either way." He reloaded the barrel that he had fired and snapped the action of his rifle shut.
The lionesses vacillated, and Roxton was asked to put a bullet into the tree next to one. "The sound of that bullet hitting wood may scare them off. Just don't wound one."
Roxton fired, immediately reloading his magazine from a cartridge held in his left hand. The bullet showered the lionesses with fragments of wood, and the loud thunk of the strike echoed back to the hunters. The cats stood for a second, then one bounded off, followed in a few seconds by three others.
"Can I breathe now?" asked Finn.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - May 29 2008 : 2:36:08 PM
|
Marguerite Roxton had watched all of this from the car, her Zeiss 8X30 binocular to her eyes. Veronica Malone had also raised her binocular. Now, she lowered it, sayng, "Looks okay. I should have known that Finn would shoot straight. She lives and breathes this stuff."
"You can say that again," muttered Lady Roxton. "When we get together at their place or at ours, she and John drift off to the den and play with their guns. Challenger and I talk, which I greatly enjoy, especially now that he pays as much attention to the rest of the world as he does to his lab."
Veronica smiled. "If it gets too bad, serve ice cream. That will get Finny to put her guns away for awhile and come join you."
"How very true," answered Marguerite. Then, she stiffened. "Oh, damn it! Look at that!" And she set the binocular aside and seized her rifle.
Bounding from the car, she ran about 50 feet and knelt, rifle to shoulder. A lioness was stalking the hunting party under cover of a bed of reeds. From where they stood, she was coming in behind them, and when she charged, there would be no more than 40 to 50 yards before she was on them. Marguerite was amazed at how well the lioness hid in the grass, creeping low, moving cautiously until her final rush.
The .318 bullet smacked into the big cat's left shoulder, breaking it and dropping her. But she struggled up and Marguerite put a second shot into her neck just ahead of the shoulder. This killed her at once, the lioness dropping like the proverbial lead balloon or sack of bricks.
"What the devil are you shooting at, Marguerite?!" yelled her husband.
"Vermin," she answered saucily. She felt pretty good about her shooting, and remembered to reload her rifle's magazine. "Actually, there was a lioness about to have you for supper, but I sent her to the Happy Hunting Grounds, as the American Indians say. Well, they say that in books and movies. I'm sure that I haven't the slightest idea whether they say it in real life."
After checking the lion, they inspected the lioness, and Hamilton congratulated Marguerite on her marksmanship.
"Isn't that 'markswomanship'?, " she smirked. "I guess I showed you Boy Scouts. You'd have been toast without me and my trusty rifle. I think you ought to write a thank you note to the people at Westley Richards and Co. This thing shoots right to the sights. "
They got the lions cleaned and skinned, taking both hides back to camp for further processing by the "boys" who specialized in trophy preperation.
"Drive fast," demanded Marguerite. "I'm starving. Shooting lions is hungry work."
"I'm not too sure about that," responded Finn. "Personally, I'm not eating anything until my heart comes back down out of my throat."
But she felt exhilarated, a happy huntress, at one with Nature, having triumphed over danger.
Roxton shook her hand and her husband put his arm around her and kissed her. Finn felt on top of the world.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - May 30 2008 : 02:28:34 AM
|
That night, Khalil met with his friend and business partner Joao Rangaswamy, a native of Goa, a Portugeuse colony on the Indian mainland. Like most dukkas or general stores in Kenya, the one in which they sat was run by Indians, in this case, actually a Goan. (Author's note: Goa no longer exists, having been invaded and annexed by India some years after Indian independence.)
The men sat in the back of Rangaswamy's store, on the route where the safari would pass the next day. They were discussing their arrangement with the Sultan, and the rich price that he would pay for the women whom he desired.
"We shall be able to retire, or to build our businesses on a grander scale. But we must be cautious. It would be ruinous to be caught with these Western sluts. Infidels that they are, their government will deal grimly with us if our plan fails. Are you sure that the men you enlisted to help are reliable?"
"Yes, yes, " Rangaswamy assured him. "I use these men all the time to smuggle ivory and, sometimes, black slaves. They know well how to get girls down to the harbors and keep them from the sight of policemen. Stealing white girls is a more serious offense, but they are bold enough to do it. As long as we pay them more than usual, they will welcome the challenge. Not to mention the chance to enjoy the white girls before they are delivered to the docks." He snickered, a mean sound in the darkness.
"No, no, " protested Khalil. "The Sultan's message stipulated that the girls must not be used. Doubtless, some of that is vanity, with him not wanting any other man to use a vessel for which he is paying good money. But you also know well that many Africans harbor venereal diseases. The Sultan naturally wishes not to risk exposure to these, should the girls be used by our men. They can look, but not touch, in the carnal sense."
The other man looked thoughtful, then nodded. "Yes, were I in the Sultan's place, I would make a similar stipulation."
The Indian ventured to ask how Khalil could be certain that Lady Roxton was the escaped girl for whom the ransom was offered. Might not the Sultan be greatly offended if he paid for something that he discovered to be a false bill of goods?
"Not to worry, as the English dogs say," promised Khalil. "He will still pay heavily for Lady Roxton just as the wife of an Earl, that she may be tormented in public to the humiliation of both herself and her imperialist nation. But I feel sure that she is the girl whom I often saw dance. And the Sultan has reminded me that Marguerite has a distinctive birthmark behind her left shoulder."
He took out a pen and sketched the mark on a notepad in the light of a lantern. "We will strip these girls for examination, of course, and will then look for this mark on the brunette woman. If she has this rare mark, she is indeed the escaped slave, and worth every penny that we ask for her." He shrugged. "If not, we get a lesser sum, but still a lot of money. But I am all but certain that this Marguerite Roxton is the one whom we seek."
"My man in their camp will keep us informed as to the plans of the white bwanas," said Rangaswamy. "We should be able to strike soon. I want to plan this to occur when the safari women are all together and the settler girl can also be seized. And I want this to happen when our convoy of ivory and black girls is passing nearby, en route to the coast. We can then simply add the new captives to that caravan. But we will want to meet them soon with motor transport. The search for the white women will be extensive, and the sooner they are aboard a dhow headed for Amarrah, the better. We will coordinate this within two days, I believe."
"We will hold the girls here until the cars come?" Khalil wanted to be sure of that.
Rangaswamy nodded. "I have cars coming from Nairobi now. They will meet the camels with the girls and load them into the cars here. It will be dark, and the women will be blindfolded. I do not desire that they identify my store, if one should escape."
Khalil scoffed. "Let me tie them and they will not escape. I have no intention of risking our necks and this fortune just because some bimbo slips her bonds and raises an alarm."
The other man agreed. "No, they will not escape or raise an alarm. But they will be blindfolded just the same. There is always the off chance that a British ship will search the dhow, and free the new slaves. If so, they must not be able to say whence they came to the dhow. Now, will you join me in a coffee, brother? We can toast our forthcoming riches and the consternation of the white authorities. Just think! We shall look upon the naked wife of an English Earl! What a fine entertainment, and a pleasant way to increase our wealth!" His face creased in an awful smile.
"A worthy toast," agreed Khalil. "Prepare my cup with sugar, but no milk. I am looking forward to our little venture."
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 01 2008 : 12:53:14 AM
|
As the conspirators talked, the safari pulled into camp. and the lion skins were unloaded. Finn and Marguerite were hoisted onto the shoulders of widely grinning camp boys, who sang tribal songs praising them as great huntresses.
The boys were happy that the bwanas and their mem'Sahibs were happy, for then they tended to be easier to get along with and they tipped the camp staff. If an antelope or some other edible animal had been shot, there would also be plenty of meat. The warthog and the Tommy gazelles had provided that, so the camp was a happy one.
Blacklaws and Hamilton also offered their congratulations to the happy huntresses, and each of the women felt a surge of achievement, savoring the acclaim.
"This feels so wonderful! I really feel like I've impressed these guys!" Finn was slightly euphoric, her atttude helped along by the gin-and-tonic that Blacklaws had placed in her hand as soon as the singing natives put her down.
Fires were lit and the camp table set up with chairs placed around it. The whisky bottle came out, and the gentlemen and Marguerite were poured drams of Scotland's finest. Good cheer reigned, with a superb dinner soon served.
"I can't imagine why you're so impressed by the acclaim," Challenger teased his mate. "I always feel this way about you, and you don't even have to face any lion charges to get my approval!"
Finn laughed and hugged him. "You have to tell me that I'm terrific, Genius! You love me. These guys barely know me!."
"We just met, Finn, but we have come to know what a splendid person you are," observed Blacklaws. "Professor Challenger, you have a remarkable woman here. You have every right to be proud of her."
"As indeed I am," enthused the eminent scientist.
"So, where does that leave me? " demanded Lady Roxton, "What am I: chopped meat?"
"No," said her husband, "although I see the resemlance. Both you and a good steak are very tasty. Both have a lot of sizzle, too."
Marguerite started to bristle, but joined the others in laughter. The comparison amused even her.
None of the celebrating hunters saw the crafty, smug look on the face of one of the camp boys. He was looking forward to these women being much less happy.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 01 2008 : 4:35:55 PM
|
After all had retired for the night, John Roxton felt his wife sneaking into his camp bed. "Who's that?", he demanded.
"You'd better know, wisearse," she replied. "Let me give you a few clues. Who else fondles you like this?" And her artful hands played over his nude body, instantly arousing him, although he had thought that he was exhausted.
"Only one woman in the world makes love this well. Must be my wife. Hello, Lady Roxton. Anything I can do for you tonight?" He chuckled.
"Actually, there's quite a lot that you can do for me. Show me what you meant when you said that I was as tasty as a good steak. Make me sizzle, Bwana."
He turned, holding her close, his hands playing skilfully along her waist, one of her known erogenous zones, before transferring his caresses to her bottom. He didn't neglect her ears and the sides of her neck, and when he turned her slightly to ease his fingers into her, he found her wet and willing, moaning softly as he probed her depths, emotionally and physically.
"Oh, Johnnn." she murmured.
"That's me," he responded. "You've come to the right bed."
"Have I ever! Play with my boobs." She had picked up the American English word for mammaries from her friend Finn. Amused by her pal's futuristic speech, she nonetheless found herself incorporating select words into her own vocabulary. The reverse had been true as well.
Roxton complied, nibbling at one nipple as his hand toyed masterfully with the other. Marguerite groaned and tried to suppress the scream that she wanted to utter, lest anyone in another tent hear. The professionals had pitched their tents a little distance off, but even mild sound effects would be heard in the tents on either side of hers. She could do without Veronica or Finn teasing her in the morning...not that they weren't doing much what she was. Finn, in particular, had had that glassy - eyed passionate look when she had finally pulled Challenger away from the talk at the table after dinner. Everyone had smiled as she led her husband toward their quarters. Surviving a lion charge seemingly had a positive effect on her libido...A little gin had erased any latent traces of modesty.
Veronica had looked embarrassed, but glowed when Ned took her hand and whispered something into her ear. The Malones had soon followed the Challengers to their own tent, and the gathering had broken up and called it a night.
Now, Marguerite squirmed and panted breathlesly as Roxton continued to play her body like a master violinist strumming his Stradivarius.
She had known some skilled lovers in her time, but John Roxton was the best. She tried not to think that he had acquired his consummate talents through practice on other women. She had, after all, gained her own skills through practice, and from erotic training in the seraglio of an Arab master. That man had owned her body, but never her soul. Roxton was in possession of both. The thought made Marguerite feel so close to him, so helpless, and so aroused, that she did utter a scream as he moved his lips to her loins, probing her labia until she could no longer clamp a lid on her reactions.
"Sizzling yet?", he inquired politely.
"I passed 'sizzle' while you were doing my boobs and my inner thighs," she admitted. "I think I'm nearer to being a steam whistle if you keep that up. Oh, John, I can't help myself! I may cry out!"
"You have," he informed her, a bit smugly, she thought. Men! She shoved her face into his pilow to muffle the sounds that he soon had her making, in spite of her reluctance to disclose her innermost feelings. I'll just play it cool in the morning, looking fresh and as if nothing had happened, she resolved. And if Finny or Vee looks at me in a certain way, I swear that I will throw something at her. Or, them!
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 03 2008 : 09:17:21 AM
|
Her fears were justified. At breakfast, the Roxtons were greeted politely by everyone, but when Marguerite asked Veronica to pass the toast, she noted a wicked gleam in her blonde friend's eye. Veronica looked at Finn, and both grinned widely.
"Sleep well, Marguerite?" asked Veronica. Finn almost choked on a bite of egg, laughing.
"Like a log," Marguerite replied calmly. But she made an obscene gesture with the middle finger of her right hand when Blacklaws and Hamilton weren't looking.
The blondes both broke out laughing, prompting Roxton and Challenger to ask what was so funny.
"You guys probably don't want to know," offered Finn, and all three women began laughing anew.
"I've found that it's better to let these three girls have their fun and avoid inquiring what sets them off when they laugh like this, " counseled Ned. "It's enough that they're happy and not thinking of things for their men to do."
"Ah, yes. Well...," ventured Geoff Blacklaws. "Speaking of things to do, what would you like to hunt today?"
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 05 2008 : 07:33:30 AM
|
"What about the Nandi bear?," asked Finn. "Do you think it could be real?"
Blacklaws looked amused. Roxton said, "Really, now, Finn." He looked embarrassed.
"What's a Nandi bear?," asked Veronica, wanting to stand up for her friend, but not knowing what was involved.
"It's a native legend, " explained Challenger. "Some sort of bear. Some Europeans have suposedly seen it, so it's not just a silly native tale."
"My guess is that those who have seen it have seen pink or green elephants the same night," volunteered Blacklaws. "Too much pombe, native beer. Or the better equivalent, for the whites."
"Don't laugh at Finn. She asked an honest question. Let's give her an honest answer. Finn, it is probably just a monster story, but I'm not convinced. I once had a Nandi among my safari boys, and he swears that the tribe has known of it for centuries, and still sees some. Personally I think it may be a large, stocky baboon seen in poor light. Or, a big hyena." Hamilton wondered why he felt protective toward Finn. She was another man's wife, and he was engaged. But she was such fun, and so brave and so funny and so pretty that she had a certain effect on a man...
"I concur," said Challenger. "I have studied all of the credible reports, and a large, heavily built hyena seems the likely culprit. Except that the 'bear' supposedly climbs trees. A baboon could do that. Maybe it's both animals, seen on different occasions. There may even be unknown species of each there. The okapi and the gorilla and the chimpanzee are all recent discoveries. All were previously believed to be myths."
He took Finn's hand affectionately. "Darling, never be afraid to ask. You often have very thought provoking questions."
"I remember some of her thought provoking questions," muttered Marguerite. "Like, 'how do you spell this'?"
"That will be enough, if you please, Marguerite," said Challenger, a little sharply. He turned to the hunters. "Gentlemen, my wife was born in Brazil. She did not learn to read well in English until after we met."
Finn looked at him gratefully and squeezed his hand back. She was still self concious about having learned to read after she was in her 20's, and his patience with her as she learned at his hand was one reason why she had come to love Challenger.
"Marguerite, Finn is now a published author. Leave her alone. She writes very well today." Ned Malone thought that Lady Roxton could still be a cruel bitch at times.
Marguerite flushed, angry with herself. That remark had backfired, and Finn was one of her best friends. She was just mad at her and Vee for laughing at her embarrassment over having been heard while having sex. Marguerite hated being seen as mortal and human. She was shy about admitting that she was putty in Roxton's skilled hands.
"I'm sorry, Finnykins. I was trying to be funny. You did learn to read quickly once you got the hang of it. Please forgive my big mouth. Clearly, I need more coffee before I speak." Marguerite hoped that her apology would suffice.
Finn regarded her cooly. "That's okay, Marguerite. If you find a snake in your bed tonight, I probably had nothing to do with it."
"Ladies..." began Roxton.
Blacklaws cleared his throat. "Well, Nandi bears aside, would you rather go into mixed brush and scrub and look for Greater Kudu, or find some more forested land and try for bushbuck or Lesser Kudu?"
"I want to shoot a leopard. They're so pretty, and Ned wants one for our wall in the Treehouse at home." Veronica also wanted to change the subject.
"Leopards often like forested land," said Hamilton. "We all need to shoot our leopards, and around here is as good a place as any. If we wait until we get to Angus Hardy's farm, he'll thank us to kill a few for him. They prey on his stock. He has some really big ones there."
"Let's try for bushbuck or duikers and look for leopard sign while we're at it," suggested Challenger. "Those species frequently live in close conjunction. Success with one may mean succcess with another. And this afternoon, I want to do some wingshooting. I have bet my wife that she will find francolin and guinea fowl to be delicious, and fine targets for a shotgun."
"Sounds like a plan," agreed Roxton. "And we can scout for buffalo while we do that."
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 05 2008 : 9:02:15 PM
|
Following breakfast, they readied their equipment and selected guns and other gear for their anticipated needs.
They were originally to have split up for the morning, each hunter taking a car with his own clients. But the group decided that they wanted to stay together.
This impressed the professionals, who observed that the three women had had an intense discussion that left them hugging one another. Apparently, whatever had pitted Lady Roxton against her blonde friends had been settled, and they were friendly again.
Blacklaws mentioned this to his fellow professional, and Hamilton shook his head. "Geoff, don't try to figure it out. Your head will hurt. There's no understanding women, anyway. Just fuck them and hope that you do it well enough that they'll cook you breakfast."
"That seems simplistic, if effectively true," admitted the older hunter. "Is that how you plan to manage Diana? She's a remarkable girl, and Angus is an excellent choice for a father-in-law. You got lucky, there, chum."
Hamilton smiled faintly. "Diana is special. If I had to go, I gave up my freedom for the right woman. I hope. I plan to drop in on her and Angus tomorrow, and we'll shoot some leopard on their place. Suit you?"
"Yes. I saw that big tom that Angus shot last Spring. Over 175 pounds, a big leopard. And they'll be glad to see us. Diana sets a fine table, too. Makes a swell impression on the clients. Well, here they are. Good shooting, pal."
And with that, they boarded the vehicles and departed for what the day might offer.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 07 2008 : 8:42:32 PM
|
Barely a mile from camp, one vehicle trailing the other by 300 yards, they saw a herd of Cape buffalo milling around a swampy waterhole.
Blacklaws pulled up the truck, and they all got out binoculars and looked over the herd at a safe distance. One big bull would probably measure over 50 inches across the horns, and Roxton made a note of him. "Maybe tomorrow, I want to shoot that fellow, unless we find better."
"No time like the present, and the day is young. If you wound it, and I have to follow it up, I want plenty of daylight." Blacklaws knew a good trophy when he saw one, and this buffalo was exceptional.
"I'll try hard not to wound it," Roxton commented drily. "But seriously, Geoff, your responsibility to track wounded game rests heavily on me. I'll be careful."
"Lets have a go at him then. Are you up for it? You know that once you shoot, it's going to be either you or him, right? There's no backtracking once your first bullet hits."
"John knows what he's doing." Marguerite was offended on hearing her man talked to like a safari novice. "If you aren't afraid, yourself, Geoff, lets' get out and get this over with. I want to look for leopard tracks, and I plan a bath in camp before I shoot birds this afternoon. The Challengers can go grub after George's trapped mice or whatever while I bask in a canvas tub with a cold beer in my hand."
Roxton looked apologetically at Blacklaws, to let him know that he wasn't questioning the hunter's courage. "Geoff, I'm on for it if you are. That's a damned nice buff. Meteheke," he addressed his gunbearer," toa bunduki m'kubwa, the .465."
He took the .465 Nitro Express double rifle and dropped two cartridges into the opened breech. Plunk! That hollow sound as the brass rounds went home and the satisfying Snick/Snap as he closed the barrels... Normally, he preferred a .416 Rigby bolt-action rifle built on a Magnum Mauser action for dangerous game. But for buffalo in thick cover, a double rifle would offer a quicker second shot if needed, and the big Holland & Holland pointed almost as quickly as a fine shotgun.
Blacklaws took a .500 Jeffrey , and he and Roxton dropped extra ammunition into the loops on their bush jackets. Time for a fast goodbye...
"Marguerite, if I muff this and don't come back, tell the children that I died game." Roxton was making light of the risk, but his wife hugged him fiercely. She knew the danger.
"Roxton, if you get killed out there, I am personally going to give your ghost a nasty talking-to! Oh, John, I do so love you. Please be careful, if you insist on doing this sort of thing!"
"Want me to come?," Finn offered. But both men shook their heads, and Challenger breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't keen on his woman getting too close to a potentially deadly buffalo.
But the hunt went well. The first shot broke a shoulder, and Roxton put another into the base of the horns as the bull turned to charge. He reloaded and the men stood close to the dead buffalo, as the others in the herd of over a hundred milled around. Then, they smelled the blood and galloped off. The hunters were almost overrun in a stampede, but crouched for cover beside a tree as the frightened, enraged animals rushed past on either side.
When the dust cleared, the cars came up and they opened the bull, cleaning out the entrails, lest they affect the quality of the meat.
Finn took still photos, getting some good pictures for her next book and her planned lecture tour. Ned Malone helped, making suggestions, taking photos of his own. The pictures of Roxton and Blacklaws with the buffalo were taken before the boys opened the stomach and did what they had to do.
They then winched the beast aboard the transport truck, and Blacklaws sent the buffalo back to camp. The skinners and others would do their work there.
They waited a distance off, until the vultures and the jackals came, to tear at the entrails and fight for what bites they could get. Finn set up her camera with a telephoto lens and recorded the event.
Nothing about the bull's death was wasted...
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 08 2008 : 07:57:43 AM
|
They scouted along a sandy riverbed, called a donga, wet mainly in the rainy season. But pools of water remained throughout the year, and animals drank there. Leopards, like other game, left footprints.
They found a set of tracks left by a large tom, and followed it out of the donga, noting the direction in which the cat had gone.
Motoring in that direction, they scanned the treetops, hoping to locate a tree with a dead antelope hanging in it, a sure sign that a big cat was active.
By noon, they had found nothing, and paused to eat lunch in the cars.
Sandwiches were still cool, packed over ice in insulated bags, and some drinks were cold. No one drank alcohol, for they might shoot soon, and the afternoon would involve wingshooting for birds. Gunpowder and alcohol are a bad mix, and their drinking would wait until dinner.
"If we find a leopard, who gets first try at one?" Marguerite wanted that settled in advance. They discussed it, and agreed that Veronica would have the first shot. If they had to hang a bait animal in a "likely" tree, a thornbush "blind" would have to be made, looking as natural as possible. If anything seemed odd about the scene, a leopard, cautious on approaching a kill in a tree, would see it and leave. Blacklaws explained that leopards are very careful.
"If they turn out man-eater, they are harder to kill than most lions," he explained. "Lions may become complacent, contemptuous of humans. The leopard may be as brave as Lady Roxton here, but never loses his innate fear of man. He moves with great care."
"So should you, if you're trying to patronize me," said Lady Roxton.
"I asssume that you were flattering me; making a joke, too. But I'm not the brave one of us. I just have a big mouth. Finn or Veronica or the men are our bold types."
"John is our bravest," quipped Ned Malone. "He married Marguerite. That took real guts." He grinned at his jest.
Roxton shook his head in mock despair. Even Marguerite smiled, although she wadded up a tissue paper and threw it at Malone, to his own wife's amusement.
The professional hunter went on to explain that only he and Veronica could be in the blind, and would have to sit for hours, motionless, breathing carefully, even leaving their wristwatches in the car, lest the cat hear them ticking if it came close. Even drinking, if done at all, would have to be accomplished with extreme care, with slow movements of the canteen to and from one's mouth.
"If I point to anything, I'll use my lips," warned Geoff. "Anything more is too much movement. You wouldn't believe how keen a leopard's senses are. And wear your revolver. If the cat gets into the blind and has a go at one of us, you may need it. Just don't shoot through the beast and into me, please."
As he detailed these anticipated discomforts and dangers of leopard hunting, Challenger was scanning the terrain with his Zeiss 10X50 binocular, looking for any movement that might reveal an animal that he wanted to study.
"I say, Veronica," he interrupted, "why not just pop that big fellow sunning himself on the rock about 150 yards to our right oblique?"
Blacklaws looked, and was dumbfounded to see a large leopard sunning himself, just as described.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 08 2008 : 6:58:09 PM
|
This generated quiet excitement within the two hunting cars. Blacklaws asked Veronica whether she felt that she could slip out of the rearmost car from the leopard (in which she was sitting) and come with him around to the right and get the legal distance from the car to take a shot.
"Use your .275 with the telescopic sight," he ordered. "Can you shoot well enough to be confident of a good hit? I don't half fancy following a wounded leopard into that tall grass. Mum didn't raise me to leave life as a claw-shredded corpse."
Veronica was nervous, but whispered that she wanted to try. Her gunbearer quietly passed her the rifle with a flat yellow and tan box of Kynoch ammunition, loaded with Rigby's patented bullets. Blacklaws took his .375 Magnum, and they slipped out of the car.
Roxton and Finn loaded their own .375's, in case they had to run to the hunters' aid, and everyone followed the action through their binoculars.
The cat had been dozing, but just as Blacklaws and Veronica Malone reached a point from which they could legally shoot, from a flat patch of ground, it woke.
It rose, stretched, and looked around. The hunters stood stock still, and its casual glance missed them, kneeling low to the ground.
Veronica eased the .275 up and found the spotted demon in the field of the 4X Zeiss 'scope sight. She had already turned over the rifle's safety to "Off", and was ready to fire when the cat saw them. Confused at first by what he was seeing, the big male leopard looked right at them. He was unused to seeing white people and their different dress.
"Damn!" mouthed the hunter "Shoot, quick, or he'll be gone like a phantom!"
The roar of the rifle was lost on Veronica in her stress, but she registered the recoil as the rubber pad kicked back into the hollow of her shoulder. She saw the leopard leap bolt upright, and it screamed a horrible noise as it flashed past her vision.
She heard the BLAM! of Blacklaws's rifle as he hurriedly sent a second shot after hers.
Frantically working the rifle's bolt as Ned had insisted that she practice, Veronica reloaded and looked for a ball of spotted fury coming for her.
"Can't see the bloody thing," muttered the hunter. "Come with me. I'll get a shotgun and see whether I can follow him up. I think your shot hit, from his reaction. But they take a lot of killing if the first shot didn't hit a vital organ. That's true of many animals, especially of buffalo."
He led the way back to the car, finding Roxton and Finn quietly talking, their rifles to hand. Finn was watching the area where the cat had disappeared through her Zeiss 8X30 binocular.
"We saw what happened," she told the hunters. "Johnny and I will go with you, Geoff. Do you want us in a line abreast, or what?"
"Following up wounded game is my duty," Blacklaws responded. "Above all, I have no intention of exposing a woman to what lies waiting in that long grass. Why are you volunteering, Finn? Why not your husband or Mr. Malone? I've noticed that you and Lord Roxton seem to team together for this sort of thing, or look like you're always ready for it. Roxton? I'm just curious. I'm not inferring cowardice on the part of you other men. I don't sense that."
"I'll answer for my husband, Geoff." Lady Roxton was offended by his sexism in the remark to Finn, but she knew the way of men and of their times. It was not done for a gentleman to ask a lady to risk herself in an activity like this. Certainly not by a professional hunter, although some would let a client accompany them, if the trust bond was strong. But Blacklaws had never seen Veronica shoot until now, and she might well have wounded a dangerous animal. She was pretty, but could she stand and face a charge? And put a bullet where it desperately needed to go?
"Geoff, Finny and John are our little family's killers. They did the majority of hunting after she learned to shoot a gun, and they think a lot alike. They're sort of natural pals, always talking guns and hunting and such. I teasingly call them The Gun People, but I respect them and the psychic intuition that they use. They'll back you up as well as anyone. I'll come too, but being a fine lady of artistic temperament, I usually leave dirty work like this to Hubby here and his blonde Diana. I call him Orion, by the way. They make a good hunter-huntress team. Don't underestimate either. They're deadly shots, and they love this sort of thing." Marguerite wanted it understood that her husband and his hunting partner were not amateurs, nor were their marital partners cowards.
Blacklaws considered. He looked at Hamilton and said, "Stuart, will you join me? I'd appreciate it if Orion and Diana here looked after the cars in case the cat slips past us and goes for the others."
"Hey!," said Finn. "Didn't you hear Marguerite? Johnny and I can do this. We work well together, and we've killed some really nasty animals. And men. And I didn't like that crack about my husband. The Genius is plenty brave. I've seen him do some remarkably courageous things. Ned, too. But Johnny and I are our team for this kind of thing. We click at it."
Hamilton sought a compromise. "Look, Finn. Why don't you and Lord Roxton work off to our left as Geoff and I follow any blood trail? If the cat breaks out that way, you shoot it. If it comes for us, Geoff and I will kill it, or die trying. They move jolly fast. That's why Geoff is getting his shotgun. It puts out a pattern of buckshot and can be pointed faster than a rifle at close range, with its single shot before you have to reload or fire a second barrel. Will you do that? Roxton? And stay in a place that keeps you two out of out of our line of fire, as we'll stay far enough back that you can shoot to the right, if you see the cat. But if we get close on the trail, in the final followup, hold your fire. We'll have to walk right up to it to be sure that it's dead. Finn?"
Roxton and Finn looked at one another and nodded. "Right, we'll do that." But Roxton meant to give Blacklaws a talking to after this ended.
The foursome walked after the leopard, Orion and Diana well to the left of the local men, forward of them, to allow them a frontal or side shot, depending on which way the cat came fot them. Hamilton looked at them occasionally to check their position, and observed how they worked together, exchanging a few quick glances, as if reading one anothers' minds. They were always ready, never getting in each others' way. He decided that those two knew what they were doing. And Roxton, at least, had done this before, if years ago.
Blacklaws stopped and flung up the 12 gauge Greener shotgun. He had seen the tawny and black hide of the cat, lying near the high boulder from which it had leaped when Veronica had shot. Hamilton threw a stick at the cat, but it didn't move. With great caution, Backlaws walked over and prodded the leopard with the muzzles of his double-barrelled shotgun. It was dead.
He signalled for the others to come over, and Orion and Diana cautiously approched, their rifles ready. They took in the scene as Blacklaws said, "Kuisha. Finished. Dead. Veronica's first shot hit the heart, I think. Sometimes, they leap like that to a heart shot. I'm not sure if my bullet connected. We'll look when we skin it."
Finn was looking cooly around, her .375 Magnum balanced in her hands like the fine instrument that it was. "What about a mate? Do they ever travel in pairs?"
Blacklaws shook his head. "Seldom, and just at mating time. We haven't heard any kitty cat mating calls, and this one was sunning alone on that rock. Males don't get together; they're too competitive. Basically, the male leopard lives alone, and it dies alone. But I'm impressed that you thought to ask."
"I'm a careful girl," she replied. "Geoff, I didn't get to be 28 years old by being careless. I came from a grim place."
"You're 28?" Hamilton was surprised. "You look more like you're about five years younger. You and Veronica seem about that age."
"They're well preserved," answered Roxton. "Mrs. Malone is 30, but don't tell her that I told. Finn here had a birthday just before we left England. She just looks childlike because of her clean, healhful living and her radiant love for the Professor." He winked at his female companion, who blushed and looked shy. She was now very feminine and sexy, not the cold, careful killer that she had been a few moments earlier. But Blacklaws and Hamilton had seen her in that frame of mind and neither doubted her claim that she had killed men, and animals as dangerous as this one.
"Well, lets go and congratulate Mrs. Malone on her fine shot and clean kill. That was well done, after all. You lot are good shots and cool ones. Was this her first dangerous game?"
Orion and Diana looked at one another and laughed. "No", said Roxton. "No. She's killed some dangerous things before. Some quite large, hungry or angry ones, in fact. Generally, with arrows, too."
"Look here, Roxton," said Blacklaws. "I may owe you two an apology, and one to your spouses, in the ladies' cases. I spoke in a time of urgency, and without knowing you people well. I do hope that I didn't offend?"
"You did," Roxton informed him. "And I was going to have words with you about it. But consider it a past issue. Unless Lady Roxton has some pregnant thoughts for you. She may well have some. She can be very candid with her comments."
Finn snickered, and the hunters looked sheepish. Both had seen this side of Lady Roxton, whom they found funny, but a bit caustic at times.
The four started back to the cars, the clients a little in the lead.
Hamilton looked at Finn's trim, graceful behind as she walked, and found her gait to be ladylike and feminine. He could have watched her walk all day. The professor was a lucky man, he decided, for the hundredth time. He caught Blacklaws's eye and the men grinned at one another. Both were watching the same thing, and enjoying the view.
Back at the car, they found the men with loaded rifles and inquiring looks on their faces.
"Dead," announced Blacklaws. "Veronica, you hit it in the heart. Congratulations on a fine kill!" He offered his hand to shake. "Sorry about all the drama in the follow-up, but one can't be too careful with leopards."
"We weren't worried about you and Stuart," said Ned Malone. "You had Orion and Diana with you."
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 12 2008 : 03:06:43 AM
|
They collected the leopard, posing as Finn, Challenger and Malone all took photos of the huntress with her prize. Veronica had mixed emotions. She was proud of a clean kill, knew that there were plenty of leopards, even that they were a menace to livestock and sometimes people, especially children.
But she was loath to kill very often unless she needed meat, or the animal involved was a threat.
She stroked the beautiful fur and looked at the cruel teeth and the sharp claws that could infect a man so easily if he was mauled. Rotting meat from their kills infested cat claws, and a lion or leopard mauling was often fatal later, if not at once. Antibiotics not yet being common, this was a serious problem in tropical countries. Challenger had brought a supply of his brilliant drugs, for which she was grateful.
They loaded the carcass of the splendid cat into the back of the hunting car and went toward camp. "Have to get that hide off and process it before the hair slips in this climate," reminded Hamilton.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 12 2008 : 03:20:51 AM
|
Most of the way back to camp, they paused to let the Challengers check the traps that George had set for small animals. These yielded several that he killed quickly with his knife and put into a specimen bag, taking care to avoid any parasites still on them.
They were almost done, and the eminent scientist was enthused by what he was almost certain was a new species of vole. "I shall name this one after you, Darling. You brought me the luck to find it."
Finn kissed him and said thanks, but she was privately amused that an animal bearing her name as its species deignation should be a sort of rat.
She had taken her .375 Magnum when they left the car, thinking that it was the best compromise for anything that she might have to shoot. It kicked harder than she liked, but was bearable for her for a few shots, and was such a beautiful rifle that she had become quite fond of it. Now, she laid it down to help her husband secure the cloth specimen bags.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
|
|
|
Topic |
|
|
|
On Safari
