"Elephants live in a tightly knit society, dominated by one of the older cows whose accumulated wisdom allows her to recognize danger and lead her charges safely to and from water and food." -- The Traveler

     The thought of Harry Hascombe sent a tingle down Jade’s spine, which brought her back to the present. She took out her knife and whittled a fresh pencil tip. Soft footfalls approached, and Jade looked up to see their headman regarding her with concern.

     “Simba Jike is not tired tonight?” he inquired.

     Jade shrugged. “Actually I am; tired of a lot of stuff, Chiumbo.”

     The Tanganyikan sat down next to her. “It is that elephant cow and her toto that upset you. Perhaps you are only tired of death, miss.”

     Jade propped her elbows on her legs and rested her chin on her clasped hands. “I understand hunting, Chiumbo. I’ve been doing it most of my life. We hunted for food or protection, same as the animals out here. I even partially understand hunting for sport. But I don’t understand waste and cruelty. Killing that calf was a waste and letting that cow die slowly and painfully was cruel. I don’t understand that. But it isn’t the cow and her baby that I was thinking of just now. I keep seeing that poor soldier.” She shuddered. “Chiumbo, that man was executed. His face was blown away after someone first shot arrows into his gut. That’s murder!”

     “Cruelty is power, miss. You do not covet power.”

     Jade studied the African’s face, scarred both by battle and by experience. The firelight highlighted deep wrinkles across his brow and around his mouth and cast a shadow over a badly healed rent that ran from his jaw to his temple, just missing his left eye. She wondered how old he was and decided he must be fifty at least. “You sound as if you speak from experience, Chiumbo.”

     For a few thoughtful moments, he watched the fire dance. “My people are called Nyamwezi, the people who bring the moon. We were traders. We left from Tabora at the new moon and always arrived at Dar es Salaam at the next new moon, so the people there joked that we,” he paused, “excreted the moon when we came.”

     Jade smiled and nodded for the man to continue.

     “I made some of those trips with my father. Before we left the village, we would go to the mahoka huts where we prayed to our ancestors and left offerings for them.” His lips tightened, and he scowled, still staring into the fire. “Then these men you white people call Germans came to our land and destroyed the huts. They mocked our rituals. Chief Isike fought them, and I fought with him as a young warrior. When Isike died, these men took whole villages and forced us to work their cotton farms. Many died. Some of us joined the Hehe tribe to fight these men who were led by an Englishman named Prince and aided by their missionary people. This man called Prince, he and his lieutenant killed my father. I saw, but I could do nothing. Then our leaders told us to drink and sprinkle ourselves with sacred water from the mountains. They said it would turn the bullets to maji, 'water.'"

     His smile was grim as he shook his head. “It only turned them to blood, our blood. They knew no mercy, Simba Jike. Only cruelty. All these people wanted power.”

     “And what do you want, Chiumbo?” she asked. “Do you seek power or revenge?”

     He turned to her. “Men pay me now to lead their safaris. I can say yes or no to their money. That is my power.”

     “And why did you say yes to our money?”

     “You must sleep now,” he said as he stood. “I will keep first watch.”

     Jade nodded obediently and rose. Biscuit stood with her, and she directed him to Jelani’s tent to guard the boy. Suddenly she felt tremendously exhausted. Her head throbbed and her body ached. She rubbed her left knee absentmindedly and stumbled through the tent flaps. Perhaps she should rummage through her kit and find that little bottle of aspirin Beverly insisted she pack. Bev kept telling her that it was a wonder drug and claimed it would help her knee.

     She lit the oil lamp and trimmed the wick. The cot looked so enticing, but the assorted aches grew steadily stronger. Jade turned aside, put the lamp in front of her on her camp table, and headed for her pack to find the needed medication, her shadow dancing on the tent’s wall.

     From behind her came a soft whoosh followed by a muffled thunk. She whirled and saw an arrow protruding from the center of her cot.

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