Assegai

‘The elephant is a particularly difficult animal to tackle. Remember that the brain is a tiny target. You have to know exactly where it is from any angle. If he turns or lifts his head your aiming point changes. If he is facing you, broadside or angled away from you, the picture changes again. You must look beyond the grey curtain of his hide and see the vital organs hidden deep inside his massive head and body.’

Now Leon realized, with dismay, that it was not an illustration in a book that confronted him: it was a creature that could squash him to jelly and crush every bone in his body with a single blow of its trunk, and it would take only two long strides to reach him. If the bull came at him he would be forced to try to kill it. Percy’s voice echoed in his head: ‘If he is head on to you, take the line between his eyes and move down until you pick the top crease in his trunk. If he lifts his head or if he is very close you must go even lower. The mistake that gets the novice killed is that he shoots too high, and his bullet goes over the top of the brain.’

Leon stared hard at the base of the trunk. The lateral creases in the thick grey skin between the amber eyes were deeply etched. But he could not visualize what lay beyond. Was the bull too close? Must he shoot at the second or third crease rather than the first? He was uncertain.

Suddenly the bull shook his head so violently that his ears clapped thunderously against his shoulders, and raised a cloud of dust from the dry mud that coated his body. Leon swung the rifle to his shoulder, but the beast wheeled away and disappeared at a shambling run among the sweet thorn trees.

Leon’s legs felt weak and his hands holding the rifle were trembling. Understanding of his own inadequacy had been thrust rudely upon him. He knew now why Percy had sent him out to be blooded. This was not a skill that could be learned from a book or even from hours of instruction. This was trial by the gun and failure was death. Manyoro came back to him and offered him one of the waterbottles. Only then did he realize that his mouth and throat were parched, and his tongue felt swollen with thirst. He had gulped down three mouthfuls before he noticed that the two Masai were studying his face. He lowered the water-bottle and smiled unconvincingly.

‘Even the bravest of men is afraid the first time,’ Manyoro said. ‘But you did not run.’

They halted in the blazing noon and found shade under the spreading branches of a giraffe thorn tree while they waited for Ishmael to catch up and prepare the midday meal. He was still half a mile away across the plain and his form wavered in the heat mirage. Loikot squatted in front of Leon and frowned, which signalled that he had something of importance to impart and that this was a conversation between men.

‘M’bogo, this is verily the truth that I will tell you,’ he began.

‘I am listening to you, Loikot. Speak and I will hear you,’ Leon assured him, and assumed an earnest expression to encourage him.

‘It is of no value to talk to those old men as you did two nights ago. Their minds are cooked to cassava porridge by the drinking of beer. They have forgotten how to track a beast. They hear nothing but the chatter of their wives. They see nothing beyond the walls of their manyatta. They can do nothing but count their cattle and fill their bellies.’

‘Such is the way of old men.’ Leon was acutely aware that, in Loikot’s eyes, he himself was probably on the brink of dotage.

‘If you want to know what is happening in all the world you must ask us.’

‘Tell me, Loikot, who do you mean by “us”?’

‘We are the guardians of the cattle, the chungaji. While the old men sit in the sun to drink beer and talk of mighty deeds from long ago, we the chungaji move through the land with the cattle. We see everything. We hear everything.’

‘But tell me, Loikot, how do you know what the other chungaji

, who are many days’ march distant, see and hear?’

‘They are my brothers of the knife. Many of us are of the same circumcision year. We shared the initiation ceremonies.’

‘Is it possible that you are able to learn what the chungaji with their cattle on the plains beyond Kilimanjaro saw yesterday? They are ten days’ march away.’

‘It is possible,’ Loikot confirmed. ‘We speak to each other.’

Leon doubted this.