CHAPTER TEN
D'Artagnan fitted in well.
Mere weeks after he arrived, the conservation compound was holding two injured cheetahs and three antelope, all being treated for eventual release back into the wild. He set up other pens for transient occupation. He had calculated the sizes of buffalo, giraffe, and elephant and rhino herds. He had set up a lab in his facility and spent much of his time there each day; until Porthos dragged him out for lunch or dinner.
As medical men, albeit with completely different disciplines, he and Aramis spent time together. Today, Aramis was due on his bi-monthly rounds of the nearby villages. On this occasion, d'Artagnan was to accompany him as he was developing the same routine in offering care to the local villager's animals.
Treville encouraged them both as it was important that the reserve became part of the community. They could offer employment and social and medical care to the community, and in return, receive vital support and surveillance against any potential human threats.
They arrived in Nkosi's village, and Aramis greeted her brother, Oba, one of her three brothers, all full blooded Tswana; unlike Nkosi herself.
Oba walked with them through the village to his father's house. They were always made very welcome here. Everyone looked up from their work as they passed by and gave them a bright smile or a wave. Children ran to them with longing eyes and hands outstretched for pens and paper, as had become their custom to give.
Porthos had become a regular here too. As the children were too poor to go to school, he had set up a monthly class to teach them to read and write. He would have liked to come more often, but his work on the reserve prevented it and so he did what he could on his days off.
It turned out that Aramis was a crack shot, and he had set up a target practise range for the men of the village. He never missed. If d'Artagnan needed someone to wield a tranquiliser gun, Aramis was the man.
"How come a surgeon can shoot so well?" d'Artagnan had asked one evening when they were all playing cards and drinking. It all got a bit raucous, as they realised Porthos was cheating. His loud laugh rumbled around the Lodge.
Aramis simply smiled.
"Same sort of skills, mon ami," he replied. "A steady hand, precision, and a strong belief that I am the best," he laughed.
Porthos snorted.
"An' a smatterin' of modesty?" he laughed.
"Whatever for?" Aramis smiled.
d'Artagnan laughed, but one day he would get the man's story out of him.
Slowly but surely, d'Artagnan was becoming a part of this tightly knit group of men, who all had different skills, but who all seemed to have something in common.
There was a story in each of them and d'Artagnan was a very curious man.
oOo
The Okavango River:
It was Athos's and Portho's custom to check the reserve by quadrant. They had wardens and volunteers who were all tasked with this and it was an important part of their work.
The Okavango River rose in the Angolan highlands and flowed over one thousand miles, passing through Namibia before entering Botswana and forming the Okavango Delta. It was this river that helped to sustain the Delta and its varied habitat of mammals, birds, fish and other animals.
They did not own the river and access was strictly controlled. It was used by others offering safari's, again under strict controls, but it bordered Heshima and was an important area and part of the experience they offered. They were involved in several conservation projects on some of the secluded and remote islands along the way. Heshima wardens, many of whom were indigenous people, would take their visitors onto the river, manoeuvring traditional mokoro boats through the reed banks, taking in the resident wildlife. Their wardens were also eyes and ears, and could report any problems or incidents; sometimes, other tourist concerns would venture too close to wildlife, or too far into the reed banks, although this was rare.
Today, it was their turn to survey the river, which ran along the border with Botswana and Namibia, dropping four metres in areas to form rapids, visible when the river was low in the dry season between June and August. At this time, the Delta was prone to flooding, as the river filtered down from Angola; increasing the Delta to three times its normal size, and attracting animals from miles around.
On this particular morning, Porthos and Athos were following the river east to west, when they suddenly heard screaming.
Pulling the 4x4 over, Porthos switched off the engine, and they both stood up in the vehicle to scan ahead. Seeing nothing, they jumped out and followed the sound, which was quite close now. Ahead of them was a swathe of tall grass, and beyond lay the Okavango River.
They pushed through the grass, following the sound and there, ahead of them on the riverbank, they could see a village woman screaming and waving toward the water.
Porthos got to her first and took hold of her, gently reaching out and after a slight hesitation, pulling her around to face him in an attempt to find out what was wrong. The woman was getting hysterical, but he did not speak her dialect and could only follow her flailing arm and she waved toward the water. Aware of Athos now beside him, they both looked to where she was pointing, but there is nothing to see.
Then, further down river they spotted a partially submerged native canoe.
As they watched, a head suddenly came up out of the water and the woman shouted, trying to pull out of Porthos's hands. He struggled to hold on to her but before he could do anything, he caught a sudden movement behind him and a blur as Athos surged ahead of them and dove into the water.
Porthos shouted at Athos, staggering back and almost falling over the boots that Athos had obviously discarded the moment he had joined them.
Porthos knew he is an excellent swimmer, but the river was known to have hippo; one of the most dangerous animals in the world.
Oh, he thought, as he looked across at the far bank, and bloody crocs.
Athos swam fast toward the boy, but the current was strong and before he could get to him, the boy had disappeared below the murky surface.
Athos stopped and looked around him; quietly treading water and getting his bearings. He saw Porthos and the distraught woman on the bank behind him, and turned back toward the river. As he did so, the boy's hand came up and Athos was off again.
But the boy didn't surface. Athos took a breath and dove beneath the surface.
The woman stilled in Porthos's arms and they both stared at the now still water, as the minutes ticked agonisingly by.
Athos suddenly surged up and took a breath, looking frantically around, before diving back down again.
The third time he surfaced, Athos could feel himself losing his energy.
Porthos saw the moment Athos gave up searching; but in an awful way, he was relieved.
Until he looked at the far bank, and saw the croc sliding silently into the water.
"Athos! Get back 'ere NOW!" Porthos shouted, pointing at the far bank.
Athos turned and realising what Porthos meant, he began to swim for his life.
The woman started to sob now, but her legs were buckling and Porthos gently but swiftly lowered her to the ground, before hurling himself down to the edge of the water.
He couldn't see the croc now, but Athos was near, so he charged into the water and managed to snag his arm and haul him from the shallows. He knew that a lot of croc attacks happened in the shallows, and his adrenaline was surging in his veins, making the blood pound in his head.
He never did see the croc but he had an awful feeling it was very close, as he tightened his grip for the last few yards. Athos got his feet down and staggered from the water and Porthos lowered him down, before returning to the woman.
Just then, the water behind them started to thrash and they both looked at the familiar sight as a crocodile did the tell-tale series of rolls, a method of drowning their prey. In this case, the boy was more than likely dead and was spared the horror. Then all went quiet.
Behind them, the woman was making a terrible sound. Athos was sitting up and staring at the now-still water with haunted eyes. Porthos reached down, and squeezed his shoulder, before making his way back to the distraught woman. As he reached out to her, the air was rent as the woman screamed her boy's name;
And Porthos froze.
"Thomas!"
On the bank, he heard a loud groan from Athos and turning back toward the river, he saw him slump onto his side.
To be continued ...