Mark of the Lion (44 page)

Unfortunately, other people sometimes stalked these forests, and Jade’s conscience reminded her that she hadn’t come just for the solitude. A distant echo of rifle reports emphasized both points. Blaney Percival had told her about this hidden spot when she asked for a good location to photograph elephants. In return, she promised to relay information on the current poaching. So far she hadn’t seen any evidence, but she didn’t kid herself. Where there were this many elephants, there would be poachers.

Jade chose an African olive tree across the game trail and tied the wire around its trunk. Then she ran the thin strand a few inches above the ground to her stinkwood tree blind, passed it under a spool that she’d staked into the ground, and tossed the rest of the coil up to Beverly.

“Does this end go to that little switch?” Beverly asked.

Jade scrambled back up the tree using a rope ladder and reached a hand up for Avery’s assistance. “That’s correct,” she answered as she swung a leg over a floorboard.

Avery lowered his rifle and studied the setup. “I see. Rather ingenious actually. I wondered how you planned to take a photograph in the dark without being here.”

“Hopefully this switch at the battery will set off the magnesium flash powder in that pan at the same time as the shutter is released,” Jade explained. She gingerly slipped a nooselike piece of wire over the shutter release.

“But won’t the elephant, or whatever strolls by, just pull the whole contraption out of the tree?” asked Beverly.

“I’ve anchored the camera down with clamps. The trip wire is close enough to the ground to be stepped on, but if an animal did snag a foot on it, the wire is so thin, it should snap as soon as it pulls any farther than I’ve allowed.” Jade stepped back and examined her work. “At least under the weight of an elephant,” she added. “I’m counting on smaller animals missing it entirely. Just keep your fingers crossed and pray I’ve set the focal plane correctly.” Jade fussed with a rubberized hood that covered most of the camera. “I’m more concerned with moisture on my lens than anything.”

“The long rains aren’t due for another month at least,” Avery reminded her.

“That doesn’t stop the fog every morning,” Jade replied as she gave a final tug to the hood.

At the instant she leaned down, something whizzed a few feet above her head, the sound punctuated by the crack of a distant rifle.

“Thunder and blazes!” exclaimed Jade.

She dropped the pack, snatched up her Winchester, and bolted for the rope ladder as more reports exploded in the distance.

“Jade!” yelled Beverly as she grabbed her friend’s sleeve. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Let go, Bev,” Jade said, her voice low and husky with anger.

“No! Avery, help me hold Jade.”

Avery grabbed for Jade’s right arm, pulling his head back to avoid being clobbered by a rifle butt when she tried to swing free of his grip.

“Blast it, you two,” Jade snapped. “Let me go. Someone’s shooting at us.”

“We’re not letting go,” retorted Beverly, “until you settle down and act like a rational human instead of a wound-crazed buffalo.”

When Jade didn’t immediately agree, Avery added, “I have rope if I need it, Jade. Be reasonable. Much as you may enjoy it, you cannot go off into the forest and pummel someone.”

Jade exhaled with a tremendous sigh, her shoulders sagging as she admitted defeat. “All right. I promise. But,” she added as her friends released her, “they better hope I don’t find them.”

Beverly behaved more stoically. “Settle yourself, Simba Jike. We don’t have a game permit for shooting nearsighted hunters.”

“You don’t need a permit to shoot hyena, jackal, or jackass,” countered Jade. “If I hadn’t bent over at just that moment, that bullet might have gone through me rather than the tree. Worse yet, it nearly hit my newest Graflex. People heal up, but a shot like that would be fatal to a camera.”