Page 31 of Maximum
“What? Nooo.” Mike broke into hearty laughter. “We would know about that.”
“Would you? You said it yourself, you have seventy-five thousand hectares of land.”
“I’m sorry, Fleur. I have enormous respect for your work, but I think you’re wrong this time. You would have to show me their bodies for me to believe that story.”
Pushing my jaw out a little, I crossed my arms. “The elephants have shown me the poachers’ remains, and the lions ate everything. The most I can hope to find for you are bones.”
“How come the elephants showed you and not the lions?” Maximum asked and I sensed that he was skeptical too.
“I’ve always had an easy time communicating with elephants. The lions told me they’re patrolling and watching out for the other animals.”
“Is that why they’ve been aggressive toward some of our tours? Whereas most of the animals have started to flee as soon as they see us, the lions have behaved threateningly on several occasions, and what’s particularly strange about all of this is that it’s not just one pride of lions that we’re having trouble with. It’s happening all over the reserve.”
“How many lions live here?” Maximum asked Mike.
“It actually started out with only eleven back in the nineties, but a decade later the number was up to a hundred and twenty. That number was too large for a preserve of this size because they were killing so many zebras and antelopes that they were depleting the herbivores and squeezing out the smaller predators.”
“Such as?”
“Such as cheetahs and wild dogs.”
“So, what did you do?”
“I wasn’t here, but I know they relocated some lions and euthanized others to get the population down to around sixty, which is what we have today.”
“The reason it’s happening all over the preserve is that the lions share a collective consciousness. I know it sounds strange, but if you want to understand it on a deeper level look up Rupert Sheldrake. He’s a biochemist and cell biologist who used to work at Cambridge University. He and other scientists call it the morphogenetic field of consciousness. Look up his experiment on house mice if you don’t believe me.”
“I didn’t say that I don’t believe you. It’s just all a bit…” Mike trailed off, but I knew what he meant, so I picked up where he’d paused.
“The point is that the animals here believe some of the rangers are involved in the hunt on them and that’s why they’re on edge.”
“Do you allow hunters to come here?” Maximum asked Mike as we took a sharp turn onto a narrow uneven road.
“No, absolutely not!” Mike shook his head vehemently. “None of the big parks in South Africa allow hunting. All our guests are allowed to do is take pictures and videos. We’re known to attract an audience willing to pay for an exclusive experience with our trained guides. That’s why we don’t allow self-drive safaris or day visitors. Over the years our animals here have learned to recognize that we mean them no harm, which is also why it’s alarming that they’re no longer allowing us as close as they used to. As I said, they leave when they see our tour busses now and that’s weird because they used to ignore us or come to investigate the Jeeps.”
“I’ll ask them for more details when I’m in the park.”
“Why do poachers go for rhinos?” Maximum asked. “Sounds like dangerous work.”
“Because Asians are willing to pay a gobsmacking price to get their hands on rhino horns. Last I heard the rate was sixty-five thousand dollars for a kilo, which makes it more valuable than gold.”
“Wow, that’s insane.”
“What’s insane is how many rhinos we’ve lost because of human greed. Here in South Africa it’s about a thousand a year. We don’t have many left, so that’s why we’re patrolling and protecting the animals. I was only meant to stay for six months, but it’s been almost eight years now and I’ve invested in owning my own lodge here.”
When we arrived at the luxurious range, Mike invited us to eat with him in an outdoor restaurant area that offered a stunning view of the lush savanna. Two of his rangers joined us. Unlike Mike, they were locals who had grown up in the area and had a ranger education, making them specialists in the local fauna and wildlife. Both men were dedicated to their preservation work.
“We all work as both rangers and guides,” Mike explained and pointed to the beautiful main house. “We have different types of lodging here but all high end. We’re not fully booked this week and you’re welcome to stay in one of the rooms, but from our correspondence, I understood you prefer to be out among the animals, so that’s why I prepared the Wrangler for you. We rangers use it sometimes, but it’s not an option for normal guests.”
I’d already seen open tour Jeeps parked at the entrance when we arrived and guessed that they were the vehicles used to transport safari guests around.
“Thank you for everything, Mike.” I emptied my glass. “I think it’s time that I go search for some answers for you.”
When Maximum and I were in the Jeep, and we drove off, he focused on driving while I gave him directions.
“Look, I’m very grateful that you brought me on this adventure, but I have to ask: is this even safe?”
“What?”
