"Good Lord…!"

Josh, Denzel and Chen stared in horror at the bloody remains of one of their horses, its gnawed bones lying chewed and shattered in a pool of blood and fur on the savannah grass. The carcass had been picked clean, including intestines and bone marrow. Even the leather of the reins and saddle had been eaten, leaving nothing but bone fragments, the mane and tail hair, and the horseshoes, still attached to their severed hooves. Nearby, they had found a second eating spot littered with horse remains, confirming their two horses had indeed fallen prey to the hyenas, save only for the injured Marigold.

After a restless night following the attack, with each man standing watch in turns, the explorers had set off at daybreak, hoping to find their two missing horses, which might have also survived. Alas, only a quarter mile from camp, they came across the grisly remains of two dead horses, being picked apart by a couple of white-backed vultures, rendering their hopes moot.

"Bloody scavengers," cursed Denzel, putting a handkerchief up to his face in disgust, feeling the contents of his stomach about to spill at the foul sight of the hyenas' dinner leftovers, which were already being swarmed by flies and maggots, the intense African heat rapidly speeding up decay.

"Buzzards sure do grow big 'round these parts, don't they?" asked Josh, noting the sheer size of the birds that feasted on anything that died out here, not unlike their American counterparts a continent away. No wonder animal remains quickly disappeared in this place, as did humans for that matter.

"Vultures, not buzzards," answered Denzel. "Buzzards have fully feathered heads, while vultures are usually bald."

"Where I'm from, we call all carrion feeders buzzards."

"Well, I guess we can give up hope of carrying on on horseback," muttered Chen, who had just returned from examining the sad remains of his own horse, "Mind you, it might have been us in their place if they'd caught us sleeping last night."

They returned to camp with the sad news and resumed tending to Marigold. She was all they had left. Although the horse was doing much better already, much calmer than when they had dragged her out of the murderous mob last night, she was still noticeably limping, clearly burdened by her wounded leg. Josh had tried mounting her, only for her to start staggering and whining in protest. Just like Chen's prognosis had foretold, she was in no condition to support anything other than her own weight. That spelled out no more riding, no more baggage-carrying and no more fast traveling.

"So we have no choice but to continue on foot, and from now on, we're our own porters," said Josh, "We'll have to cut down on our baggage again. Minimum essentials only, no excess load." His companions looked skeptical at the idea of discarding half their equipment, which could mean the difference between life and death out here, but they had no choice. In this heat, an overloaded person would sweat himself dry within hours, eventually succumbing to dehydration and heat stroke. No, if they were to press on, they'd have to travel light.

Carefully going through all their equipment, they took inventory of the utmost essentials and divided them into three equal loads for each man to carry: Chen took charge of the medicine chest and his precious sketch book; Denzel carried their folded-up hammocks, compass and chart, and his beloved pipe and supply of tobacco; Josh settled for the rifle, his ammo and machete, along with the tent, and some clothes. Anything too burdening, including books, the camera, the telegraph, any excess clothes, and even their canned food were all discarded.

"Looks like we'll be relying on Mother Nature's resources to satisfy our basic needs from here on," muttered Denzel, tossing away his volumes of his Britannica, which his horse had carted out here in a box. All these splendid books of reference, the most important tool for any scientist, were going to waste, leaving nothing but his memories of their precious contents to work with. The only exception was a book on zoology, which he decided to hold onto for the time being, just in case. Denzel didn't consider himself a walking encyclopedia in his field, and neither did Chen, yet Josh was positive they'd manage by memory well enough. On his part, he was sure he could satisfy their food needs with his guns, eliminating the need for heavy cans of corned beef and jam rations.

"All right, let's move out!"

With Josh leading along the unloaded Marigold by her reins like a camel, they set off westward on foot, leaving a deserted camp, strewn with discarded equipment and the remains of two dead horses. Before leaving, Josh had made sure to leave a note behind, under the discarded telegraph kit, explaining to Burton, who might come this way soon or later, that they were heading south from here and hoped to find the Pride Lands eventually, if at all.


In spite of their efforts, the journey didn't get any better over the next few days. With Marigold still unfit for duty, their daily travel distance was drastically shortened, with them barely doing twenty miles a day. During the day, the sun would beat down on them hard without end, leaving them close to collapse by nightfall. Even during the night, they'd be eaten alive by mosquitoes and bugs, barely getting any sleep.

A week had passed this way and their journey was only becoming a journey through hell with every passing day. By the fifth day following the attack, with still no sight of the Pride Lands, the explorers were beginning to have doubts of that place's existence. Could Lord Davidson have been wrong?

The only consolation was the plenty native wildlife they found, like meerkats, honey badgers and rabbits, which provided an easy replenishment of their dwindling supplies. Every now and then, they'd spot a waterhole where they could find water, although usually muddy and in need of boiling in order to be drinkable.

By the seventh day, the situation appeared utterly hopeless. The Pride Lands were nowhere to be found, not even any sign of a supposed stone palace. Even Marigold wasn't doing any better either, the endless trek only draining her of any strength she had left. Their bodies were constantly baked by the sun, the endless ocean of dry, cracked soil not offering them any shade for them to retreat to.

It was late afternoon. A sunburned and utterly filthy Josh settled down beside Marigold, now barely standing, and his two companions. The time had come to make a decision.

"We can't go on much further, Josh," Denzel muttered, his voice slowly turning raspy from thirst, "This place is like the end of the world; barely any animals of scientific interest, much less a new country hidden from us since the beginning of time. At this rate, we'll never find the Pride Lands."

"How much do we have left in the canteens?" Josh asked. Although so far they had been able to hunt for food and drink from waterholes, the region was now dry and inhospitable, practically a desert of dried shrubs.

"Enough for two days maybe, if we ration," said Denzel grimly. "As for food, we still have a dozen crackers and half a jar of chutney. That's all. If we don't see more game and water soon, we're going to starve."

"How much more ammo for the rifle?" asked Chen. The news there was just as bad.

"Ten bullets for the rifle and three spare chambers for each of my Colts, all full," Josh answered, counting his ammo. "But they're not exactly hunting weapons."

Chen groaned and placed a hand to his forehead. "Whose bright idea was it to come here during the dry season?!"

They had done another 150 miles, heading south all the time. There wasn't the faintest trace of the Pride Lands anywhere; no large animals, no man-made structures, no natives, nothing but this crummy, godforsaken wasteland stretched in all directions. Whether Burton was wrong, or they were going the wrong way, they couldn't tell. What they knew was that they were nearing the end of the road.

"All right, let's call it to vote," said Josh, "Either we keep going, or we can try and go back the way we came. If we turn back now, we should hold out long enough to make it back to our camp to retrieve the rest of our supplies." He turned to look at his companions. He turned to look at his companions, when, suddenly, something atop a nearby rock caught his eye.

Hastily grabbing his Zeiss binoculars, he zoomed in to the top of the cliff and saw it: a man, an African tribesman, judging by his appearance, was standing up on the cliff, staring down at them. The man was only visible for a split second; realizing he had been spotted, he darted away from the cliff face and was gone.

"Look, up there!"

Denzel and Chen starred, but the native had disappeared, "What is it, Josh?"

"There was a man standing up there! A native man! That means there might be a village with a watering hole close by. Come on, let's check it out…!" Grabbing his gun, he was about to dart for the hillside, but Chen held him back.

"Relax, Josh. It was probably just a mirage. You're losing it; we all are…" But Josh remained persistent.

"Damn it, Chen, I saw it!"

The Chinese botanist wanted to push it further, but Denzel stepped in, "None of us are going to survive much longer without water, Chen. Maybe Josh did see someone." He then looked at Josh. "Now, can you remember what he looked like?"

Josh shook his head, "I don't know, I didn't have enough time to get a good look. He was definitely native though. He had a spear."

"Wait, can you hear something?" asked Chen. Straining their ears, the three explorers heard a low, rumbling, almost gurgling sound in the wind. To Josh and Chen, it seemed more like the wind playing tricks on them; but to Denzel's trained ear, it was a very familiar animal sound.

"I know that sound," Denzel said.

"Something we need to shoot?" asked Josh. Denzel shook his head.

"It's too faint to tell from here." At that moment, there was another roar-like sound, definitely animal in origin. Only one way to find out. "Let's go."

The three explorers, with the worn-out Marigold following behind, scrambled up the incline, making their way to the top of the rocky hill. The sight on the other side nearly took their breath away. A herd of majestic African elephants, covered in dust and dried mud, indicating a long trek in the sun, were on the march. Some were massive, others were medium. Some had large, curved tusks, others, still young and small, were pattering after their mothers.

"Well, would ya look at that?" Josh said, smiling. "Real, honest to god elephants!" The explorers were mesmerized by the sight.

"'Bout damn time we saw some!" exclaimed Denzel, giving a hearty laugh.

"āi yā!" exclaimed Chen in his native tongue. "They certainly look much bigger than the elephants back in China. Bigger ears, longer tusks, too."

"Well, these animals wouldn't be out here if there was no water close by. If we follow them, they might lead us to the nearest watering hole!"

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" Josh exclaimed. "Let's head on after 'em!"

Following the elephants at a safe distance, it wasn't long before they came to a stretch of green savannah that seemed to stretch for miles. A few scattered trees with the occasional watering hole could be seen in every direction. Their ordeal was finally over!

"Hallelujah!" shouted Denzel.

Discarding their equipment, the three men and the horse darted across the patch of grass towards the nearest watering hole for a drink. Josh didn't pause to think. Not even bothering to strip off his filthy clothes, he dove into the pond, his companions following suit. How wonderful it felt, the water cooling off their burning sores that covered their faces. Only Marigold remained on dry land, gulping down mouthfuls of much-needed water like a sieve. One minute they had been four lost creatures, facing certain death out in the African wilderness, but now they were literally in heaven. Nearby, the elephants also gathered by the watering hole, gulping down trunkfuls of water and spraying it over their backs, oblivious to the three strange creatures swimming in the water in front of them.

"Best keep your distance from them," warned Danzel, "Elephants are highly protective of their young. If they perceive you as a threat, they'll trample you to death in a heartbeat."

"Well, can you blame me for being curious?" Josh asked, trying to get a little closer to the herd. "Only times I've ever seen any was at the circus, this is the closest I ever got to one in the wild."

"Nah, I don't blame you one bit. I remember the first time I ever got to touch one when I started working at the Menagerie in New York. But this… this is something else, the real stuff, in the flesh… out here."

This stretch of green was clearly savannah; a seemingly endless flat plain of grass, watering holes and a few scattered trees, apparently never seen by the eyes of man before. Could this be the legendary Pride Lands? Had they found Burton's prize at last? But no, as Josh scanned the horizon for any familiar landmarks, he saw there was no majestic stone palace as Burton had described. This was someplace else. Then, he spotted something in the heart of this savannah.

"Smoke!" he said, passing the binoculars to Denzel and Chen so they could look for themselves. Sure enough, the smoke of a campfire was clearly visible, surrounded by some straw huts, which, from afar, they had mistaken for patches of trees.

"Looks like some sort of native settlement," said Chen, trying to make out any familiar cultural details, but they were too far away to see the people, "Could be Maasai. I can't tell from this distance…"

Josh raised an eyebrow, "Say, how do you know what tribe they could be, Chen? I thought you didn't know much about Africa."

"I don't," admitted the Chinaman, "Denzel spent half the journey telling me all about them and what they look like."

"That native you said you saw earlier must've been a scout," said Denzel. "Knowing our luck, he probably saw us and is now giving his Chief an interesting report."

"Should we be worried?" asked Josh, the memory of Lord Davidson's warning of cannibals not having slipped his mind. They may have come in peace, but he wasn't about to let them all end up roasting on spits for someone's dinner. But, like it or not, sooner or later, they would have to try and make contact.

Denzel shook his head, "Don't know, it probably depends on whether they think we mean trouble."

The three explorers looked at each other. They had hoped to find uninhabited, bountiful farmland out here for the new British colony; the presence of a native tribe inhabiting these parts could present a problem, especially if Burton decided to move in anyway. But that would have to wait.

"All right, then," Josh said, "We'll rest here for the night and check out that village tomorrow morning." Chen and Denzel agreed whole-heatedly, feeling way too exhausted to take another step right now.

Little did they realize that their soon-to-be hosts were already aware of their arrival from their lookout, and were sending a reception committee out to greet them at that very moment!

Before either man could go about their business, a dozen Masaai warriors with razor-sharp spears and arrows suddenly sprang at them from the tall grass, having approached them unnoticed by using the landscape for camouflage, surrounding them. Their weapons fixed on them, it was plain obvious that they weren't particularly happy to see a trio of white men trespassing onto their land.

'This day just keeps getting better and better,' Josh thought grimly, his guns lying with his pack, well out of reach. His companions, also held at spearpoint, looked rather nervous of what this lot had in store for them. Could they be some of Lord Davidson's cannibals? They had survived the unbearable heat only to walk into another deathtrap: a cannibals' cooking pot!