The Boy and the Poacher's Moon. Pamela Newham

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      Human & Rousseau

      For Finn, Jet, Brodie, Neo and Maya.

      May the African bushveld, and the animals in it,

      inspire and delight you always.

      1

      The boy heard it first. The call of an owl. The second time it hooted, the two men on the track in front of him stopped and stood as still as tree trunks. They did this, the boy knew, because the call of an owl could mean something else.

      Sometimes, at night in the bush, these were the sounds men made to signal to each other. Men all searching for the same thing.

      His legs felt like lead. The axe he carried across his shoulders was heavy, and his neck ached. He was thirsty too but knew he would have to wait. Only when their leader felt it was safe would he be able to take the Coke bottle filled with water out of his backpack and have a drink. He hoped that would be soon. Daylight was not their friend. The same call came again, but this time, the owl swept down over their heads. The boy jumped. Nearly called out. Moamba clicked his tongue, and they moved forward.

      The boy did not know what the leader’s real name was. The other man called him Moamba because he came from Mozambique.

      Another half an hour went by before Moamba stopped. The bush was thick, and the boy’s arms and legs were covered in scratches.

      “We will camp here,” Moamba said. “Eat and sleep. But first, you must hide that.” He nodded towards the sack carried on the shoulders of the man the boy called Lebadi. The boy called him that because of the scar on his cheek. Lebadi eased the hessian sack off his shoulders and let it fall heavily onto the ground. A frenzy of flies rose from the sack, and the stench made the boy feel sick.

      Moamba placed the hunting rifle he had been carrying against a tree trunk. He pointed and said to the boy, “Dig there under that tree, moshanyana. Not too deep.”

      The boy took the axe from his shoulders and walked over to the spot Moamba had pointed out. He began to hack away at the soft, dry sand. An axe was not the best tool for the job, but it was all they had. When it was deep enough, he and Lebadi hauled the sack over to the hollowed-out ground and dropped it in. Then they covered it with sand and branches.

      Once the task was complete, the boy opened his backpack and pulled out the Coke bottle, which he handed to Moamba. Then he took out a loaf of bread, a can of pilchards and another of baked beans.

      Moamba drank some of the water and then handed the bottle to Lebadi. It was only after Lebadi had finished drinking that the boy was able to drink the last bit of water in the bottle.

      Lebadi opened the cans with his knife. Then the men and the boy took turns in tearing off chunks of bread and scooping out the fish and beans.

      The boy did not know when he would next get a chance to eat, so he crammed the food into his mouth. Even though he could still smell what was in the sack. Even though it made him feel sick.

      The smell of death.

      2

      Billy spotted the bus as soon as he walked out of the airport terminal. It was yellow with “WILD2SAVE” written in massive orange letters on the side and a cartoon sketch of a lion cub in a school uniform. A small, plump woman, dressed in a khaki skirt and shirt, was waiting next to the bus. She started waving as Billy walked towards her. He took a deep breath.

      “So, here you are at last,” she said, rushing up to him. “You must be Billy. I’m Bokkie Kriek. We’ve talked on the phone. You found us okay?”

      But before he could explain that he was late because the plane had been delayed, she went on, “You’re the last one, so we’re going to have to get going. Is this all your luggage?” She glanced at his backpack. “You can take that on board with you. All right?”

      Billy nodded and climbed onto the bus behind Bokkie.

      The man at the wheel had a brush cut and the shoulders of a rugby lock forward. He nodded at Billy.

      “This is Karel Smit,” said Bokkie. “Now, quickly go and find yourself a seat.”

      That wasn’t difficult. The bus was big enough to seat about twenty people, so the three other passengers looked lost. As strangers thrown together on a bus or train usually do, they had each chosen a seat to themselves. Billy forced himself to smile at the boy and two girls as he walked down the aisle. He dropped into the seat behind the boy.

      He’d barely sat down before Karel started the bus, and it lurched forward. Billy looked out of the window. He couldn’t believe he was actually in Johannesburg. Not that he was going to see anything of it.

      “Welcome everyone, and congratulations!”

      Bokkie was standing in the front of the bus, smiling.

      “You’re the fantastic four, you know. The ones who made it to the finals of our WILD2SAVE Eco Competition. We know it wasn’t easy. Sixty schools entered, and now here you are. The ones who ended up with top marks. It’s taken a lot of hard work, and you should be extremely proud of yourselves.” She clapped her hands and looked at each of them in turn.

      “Mmm, now I wonder which one of you is going to win that bursary? Exciting, hey? You know what that means? When you finish matric next year, one of you will be able to go to university to study conservation. And ALL your costs will be covered. Worth winning?”

      The boy in front of Billy called out, “Yesss!”, and they all laughed.

      Bokkie continued. “Okay, but forget about all that. This is your weekend to relax and have fun. A weekend at the Kruger Park. Your prize for getting this far. You won’t believe all the exciting things that lie ahead of you. Okay, I’m going to hand out your itineraries for the weekend, and while I’m doing that, I think it’s time for you to get to know each other.” She reached down and took some folders out of her briefcase.

      Billy glanced around. Sitting across the aisle from him was a girl with long dark hair, wearing a bright pink baseball cap. She’d been texting ever since Billy got on the bus and hadn’t glanced up once while Bokkie was talking.

      The boy sitting in front of Billy turned around. “Hey, dude! Howzit? I’m Vusi Mabuza from Durbs. And sitting behind you is Jabulani Ntuli. She’s a Jozi girl.”

      Billy turned around. Jabulani looked up from the wildlife magazine on her lap. She smiled and pushed her glasses further up her nose. “Hello. Just call me Jabu.”

      Billy’s throat was dry. The way it always was when he met strangers. He said, “Um, hi, um, Jabu.” He turned to face forward again. “Hi, Vusi, I’m, um, Billy Samuels from Cape Town.”

      He and Vusi bumped fists.

      “Okay, from Cape Town, hey? Didn’t know they had any wild animals there. Thought you only had Table Mountain and the sea. Oh, and gangs. They’re pretty hectic, hey.” He paused and eyed Billy. He widened his eyes. “You aren’t in a gang are you, dude?”

      Billy stared at Vusi for a moment and then shook his head.

      Behind him, he heard Jabu click her tongue.

      “What kind of question’s that?” she asked. Before Vusi could answer, she said, “So, Billy, what made you enter the WILD2SAVE competition?”

      “Er, actually, I’m really interested in conservation. I’ve read a lot, and I’ve watched wildlife programmes on TV but …”

      “Oh,” said Vusi. “TV. Wow! But have you actually ever seen a wild animal, dude?”

      Billy felt his face get hot. “Um, porcupines, baboons, small buck, things like that. I saw an elephant at the circus once,” he added lamely. And then immediately wanted to kick himself.

      Vusi laughed. “I’m just yanking your chain, dude. About the gangs. Everything. You’ll get