days, most of the horns end up in Vietnam, where they are used as medicine. People believe they cure cancer and a whole lot of other diseases.”
Surina asked, “Do they?”
Thandi shook her head. “There has been research done, but so far, there’s no evidence that they cure anything.”
After that, they had all been quiet. Suddenly, rhino poaching seemed a lot more real, thought Billy.
Out of the bus window, he saw a raptor – maybe a snake eagle – swoop over the veld in a lazy circle. It was always difficult to be sure what type of raptor you were looking at, Billy thought.
He was still angry with himself. He shouldn’t have got rattled when Vusi had teased him earlier about only ever having seen wild animals on TV. The truth was that Billy knew a great deal about nature and wildlife. And he’d learnt it first hand from climbing mountains in and around Cape Town and going on long hikes with his Uncle Raymond. He should have told Vusi that. Stood up for himself.
Billy closed his eyes and thought about his uncle. He knew how lucky he was to have Uncle Raymond in his life. After his dad had died in a car crash when he was four, his mother’s brother had taken Billy under his wing. He was the one who had bought Billy books about nature. He’d taught him about the many types of fynbos and how to identify the birds and insects they came across on their hikes.
He had also been the one who’d encouraged Billy to enter the WILD2SAVE Eco Competition. And he had been the one who had spent hours helping him prepare for the quizzes and the essay he had had to write.
Earlier at the airport, when Billy’s flight had been called, Uncle Raymond had squeezed his shoulder and said, “I envy you, Billy. I really do. I’ve always wanted to go to the Kruger Park. You must make sure you take plenty of pictures, hey.”
Billy had nodded. When the time arrived to board the plane, he had suddenly felt really nervous.
His mother had been poking around in her handbag. “I baked some of my coconut cookies for you in case you get hungry,” she had said. “Don’t go spending your money if you don’t have to.”
Billy had nodded and quickly shoved the packet into the side pocket of his backpack. Then he had given his mother a kiss on the cheek and swallowed hard when he saw her eyes fill with tears. “No man, Ma. I’m not going forever. It’s just the weekend.”
Billy felt the sun on his face. He opened his eyes. They were passing a farm stall. A handwritten sign said “ORANGES, ICE, AVOS”. A small boy waved, and Billy waved back.
He really wanted to win that bursary. More than anything. He knew his ma couldn’t afford to send him to university, so it was up to him. She had been so proud when he had ended up the overall winner in the Western Cape. It wasn’t often good things happened in his ma’s life. And Billy knew how much she worried about him. It was the gangs that concerned her the most. She had seen how many of the boys in their neighbourhood had had their lives destroyed by the gangs. By the drug tik. But Billy knew that wasn’t going to happen to him. He might be shy, but he did know how to stand up for himself. Most of the time.
He reached down and pulled a packet out of his backpack.
“Anyone want a snack?” he asked. “Try one of these. My mother bakes the best coconut cookies in the whole of Cape Town.”
6
The boy woke. The ground was hard, and something sharp was digging into his side. He moved slowly, stretching his arms and legs. The sun was already high. He heard the rasp of a match, and he breathed in the pungent smell of dagga.
Moamba was talking to Lebadi. He always spoke in English because the boy and the man with the scar did not understand the language he spoke in Mozambique. The boy raised himself onto his elbow so he could hear what was being said.
“That mhlungu. He is not happy.” Moamba had been talking on his cellphone. He stuffed it into his pocket. “He says we have to find the one we did not get last night. He says the order is for two.” He spat in the dust.
Lebadi shook his head. “The tshukudu will have moved.”
Moamba shrugged. “They won’t have gone too far, but the SANParks people will be out there. And the others who also want what we want.”
The boy lay back and stared at the marula leaves above him. When the tree was heavy with fruit, the elephants would come. They loved the fruit of the marula.
He thought about what Moamba had said. He must have been speaking to the big boss again. It was not good. If they did not get back today, he knew his grandmother would be worried.
He closed his eyes and wished it was over. Not just today, but all of it. He wanted to be back in the small hut with his grandmother and sisters. He wished he had never met Moamba.
“It will be easy work. In and out,” he had told the boy the first time they met. “No problem.”
The boy was not stupid. He had known from the beginning what the ex-soldiers who came across the border were doing. But it had been hard to say no to the money. That was what kept him here. That and the fear of what these men might do to him and his family. The money allowed his grandmother to buy pap and bread, sometimes chicken. Even though, when she took the cash, she never looked at him. Just went, “Aaai, aaai, aaai,” and stuffed it into her blouse.
“Moshanyana,” Moamba called, and the boy scrambled to his feet. “Get the things together. It is time to go.” He nodded in the direction of the hidden sack buried under the ground. “We will leave that here and come back for it later.”
The boy put the empty bottle into his backpack. When they passed the river, he would fill the bottle again. He took the empty tins and buried them with the stompies from the men’s zols. He knew he must not leave anything for the SANParks staff to find. “That is how they track us,” Moamba had said.
Moamba slung the hunting rifle over his shoulder. He checked his belt for his knife. The boy picked up the axe.
They were on the move again.
7
Billy looked around the rondavel he was sharing with Vusi. It was a small, circular room with two beds and a cupboard. He glanced up at the thatched roof. There was nothing quite like thatch. He wasn’t sure exactly why he liked it so much.
Maybe it was the smell or the way everything sounded muted under thatch.
Vusi had been inspecting the bathroom and declared it had a “mean shower”. He picked up the itinerary and began to read it.
“So, we’ve got to meet at the assembly point at 17:00 hours.”
Billy pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and checked the time. “Well, we’d better get moving then,” he said.
The rest of the group were already waiting under the huge flamboyant tree, with its striking red flowers, which was their meeting point. A glossy starling hopped about on the grass, its blue feathers iridescent in the sunlight. A mother warthog followed by three babies, their antenna-like tails in the air, trotted quickly away. Billy grinned. He hadn’t expected to see animals in the camp.
As
