The elephant had drifted away from where she had been feeding and was now leaning against an old thorn tree, blood muddying the sand at her feet. Her body listed forward like a great ship going down at the bow.
‘If she collapses, we’ll lose her,’ Edward whispered, his words weighed down with concern. ‘She’ll never make it back up.’
‘Damn it . . . there must be something we can do.’
Edward offered his brother a forlorn look and then peered down at his rifle. ‘Not something good, I’m afraid.’
Shaking his head, refusing to allow the thought into his mind, Derek’s gaze locked on to her injuries. The wound in her head appeared serious; it had festered into a thick and raised scab. Her front leg was severely swollen and he noticed what seemed to be bullet holes in her ears – these, however, were of no real significance. Though the holes would remain, the torn flesh would heal in a matter of days. Provided, of course, that the rest of her survived that long.
‘Let’s give her the benefit of the doubt here,’ Derek said. ‘Even if it means she has to suffer for a while.’
Edward nodded. ‘Agreed.’
‘I want to go in for a closer look.’
‘No, no. Not a good idea. Not after what she’s been through. You can’t risk exposing yourself. It’s too dangerous right now.’
‘I’ll be fine.’
‘Based on what?’ Edward frowned, suddenly annoyed. ‘Your wealth of elephant knowledge? Your decades of experience in the bush? You have no idea how she’ll react.’
Derek did not reply straight away. ‘I’m sorry, Ed. I need to do this.’
‘What are you talking about? Where’s this coming from?’
Derek looked at his brother and shrugged. Without offering another word, he turned away and stepped out from behind the rocks.
‘Wait! Think! You don’t know what you’re doing!’
But Derek had no intention of stopping. Just as he had done for most of his life, he was following his instincts, allowing his emotions to drive him.
He managed only a few short steps before the giant elephant craned her head towards him. Suddenly, it felt to him as though God himself had turned to see who had wandered into his yard.
Her ears immediately began to flap and she straightened up several inches, which in itself seemed almost impossible. Warily, her tail swishing between her legs, she tracked him as he slowly approached her.
‘I’m not here to hurt you,’ Derek called out, holding out his arms and lowering his head in what he hoped was a submissive pose.
‘You’re talking to the elephant . . . really?’ Edward murmered under his breath. ‘Why do you always have to do the first bloody thing that comes into your head?’
The tusker kept her eyes locked on Derek, mindful of any sudden movement. She was clearly not pleased by his arrival, but neither did she appear sufficiently threatened to act against him. Or, more likely, she no longer possessed the strength.
‘I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through,’ he rambled. ‘My name is Derek.’
Edward shook his head. ‘Stop . . . speaking . . . please.’
As Derek got to within a hundred yards of her, he sat down on a large crescent-shaped rock. He carefully removed his shirt and placed it on the ground beside him. He wanted her to see that he was unarmed. He wanted her to understand that, like her, he was vulnerable. And that he was placing himself at her mercy.
As he settled down, crossing his legs, he was unable to take his eyes off her. She was, by an unbridgeable margin, the most remarkable animal he had ever seen. Beyond enormous, her distended frame and exaggerated tusks appeared almost mystical, as if torn from the pages of a children’s fable. There was also something extraordinary, almost otherworldly, about her face; it bore a rawness of emotion that was immediately and obviously evident. Large and moist sickle-moon wrinkles underlined her brown eyes and made it appear as though she was crying. Perhaps she was, he suddenly thought.
‘If it’s all right with you, I’m just going to sit here for a while,’ he continued. ‘I would really appreciate it if you wouldn’t trample me to death.’
Edward, maddened by his brother’s inane comments, dropped his head into his hands. ‘Heaven above. What is he doing?’
As Derek observed how the elephant was struggling to remain on her feet, his apprehension faded away and, in its place, bright ropes of pity and anger coiled and tightened around his chest. He wished there was something he could do to comfort her, at least to ease some of her pain, but knew that there wasn’t. All he could offer was himself and, in an absurd gesture, the apology he hoped his presence conveyed.
As the rising sun pushed itself off the mountains, Derek sat perfectly still, transfixed.
The Great Grey seemed impossible to him. A figure fashioned in a dream. And yet he felt inexplicably connected to her. As if he somehow knew her from somewhere. That, in some unfathomable way, they shared something. A bond even.
But how?
And what?
After a while, Derek finally rose to his feet. He picked up his shirt and slowly returned to Edward and Maquaasi who were waiting patiently behind the rocks.
‘And what . . . the hell . . . was that?’ Edward asked, stabbing his hands skywards.
‘I’m not sure.’
‘You’re not sure! You just did something that could have cost you your life and you don’t even know why you did it?’
Derek shrugged, offered no defence.
‘And why’d you take off your shirt?’
‘To show her that I wasn’t a threat.’
‘Of course! We all know how lethal a shirt can be.’
‘Take it easy, Ed. I just wanted her to see that I wasn’t carrying anything that could hurt her.’
‘You were bloody lucky, Derek. That could have ended very differently. You realise that I would’ve had to shoot her if she had charged you? I can’t believe that you would put that on me. Damn it!’
Derek allowed a few moments for his brother’s anger to dissipate. It was rare for Edward to lose his temper. ‘We know her kind.’
Edward cocked his head sidewards. ‘Her kind? What do you mean? We’ve never seen an elephant like this.’
‘That’s right,’ he agreed, his voice low, ‘but we’ve read about them for years.’
Edward frowned but as he did something sparked in his eyes. ‘You’re talking about the diary? The Desert Elephants?’
‘You know I am.’
‘He was near death when he wrote those entries. For all we know, it was all in his mind.’
‘I don’t believe that. And neither do you.’
Edward looked up at the sky, the early-morning blue already incinerated by the sun. ‘He was very ill. The malaria would’ve distorted–’
‘She’s a Desert Elephant, Ed. Look how bloody tall she is! And those tusks? She’s exactly what our father described. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.’
‘Of course I haven’t.’
‘Then why are you resisting this?’
‘I’m not,’ he replied, taking a breath. ‘I’m just trying to think it through. Do you know that most people believe that Desert Elephants are a myth?’
‘This isn’t a fairytale, Ed. She’s not a damn unicorn. Just an elephant from an old bloodline,’ Derek said, slipping his shirt back on. His skin was already tight and hot with sunburn. He leaned over and stared through the gap in the rocks. The elephant god continued to lean precariously against the old tree. ‘There’s another way to look at it.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, what’s the alternative? If she isn’t a Desert Elephant . . . then what the hell is she?’
