The next morning amid a flurry of activity, Cora and I made our way back into the forest. Today was the crucial attempt at direct contact. We had the sack full of figs, and Jack had stopped to tell us, in a firm voice, “Keep an eye out for poachers. I mean it.” And, while his fear was for the both of us, his eyes lingered on me a little longer than was necessary.
“Don’t worry, Dr. MacConnell, I’ll take care of her,” Cora said, picking up on his concern directed toward me.
I glared in her direction but kept quiet. While we walked, our ears strained for sounds of men in the woods, but no one came. We didn’t have to wait long before Lulu and Jack showed up, and it was clear they had been waiting for us. Lulu allowed her baby to approach us right away, and I began to allow myself to hope that this would end well. If they trusted us, we could bring the transport cages into the clearing tomorrow. We’d have help from a couple of locals who had spent their lives trying to protect what they could in their neighboring forest. We spent some time engaging the baby in play, Lulu’s wise eyes watching carefully, her frail body too sapped of energy to join in. But I quietly rejoiced when I saw in her eyes the knowledge that we were there to help, and that we were her only hope. Jack was running up to grab Cora’s pant leg, then dodging off again in glee, when we heard those harsh voices of the men, closer this time. Lulu immediately reacted in fear, but made no sound. She grabbed her baby and disappeared into the brush. Cora and I crawled to a large tree trunk and huddled behind it, the moss that covered it offering a natural camouflage. Three men appeared in the clearing. Their unwashed faces were cruel, their guns and blades rusted. We didn’t breathe, waiting for them to pass by. I prayed Lulu and Jack had hidden above us in a canopy. They had survived this long, and I had to trust their instincts. One man stopped to scratch his head beneath a faded cap, a scar dragging down his dark cheek. He peered around as if sensing us. But perhaps he was too dumb to notice the few figs that remained on the ground. Cora’s eyes were wide on mine, and she shook her head once. We didn’t dare move. A bird called overhead, crashing through the branches. The man looked up, then called after his friends, following in their path. Eventually they made their way deeper into the forest, and there was no indication they’d found Lulu and her child or were aware of our presence. Cora let out a gust of breath and I realized her hand had been clenched around my wrist. Blinking the sweat out of my eyes, I stood up. With great care, we began making our way back to the camp. We didn’t speak, acutely aware of the danger we’d just been in. We’d need to tell Dr. Pashtar our rescue efforts would have to happen sooner if we were to succeed in rescuing Lulu and her baby.
That night around the campfire, Jack slung his arm over my shoulder despite the disapproving gaze of Dr. Pashtar. He’d been sympathetic to our plight, and was encouraging me with his warm contact. I allowed myself to revel in the solid heat of his body, and longed for this mission to be over.
Cora and I hurried to prepare ourselves at dawn, the cages already on the dilapidated truck positioned at the start of the path. They were wide and made of steel, and I dreaded the chimps’ response to this new intrusion. I had to trust that Lulu would know it was what was best for them. Dr. Pashtar had made it clear we would have only today to accomplish our goal. The rusty truck would carry us into the forest. The two local men helping us held their own guns at the ready, and I realized a battle with poachers would not end well for any of us. Cora’s face was tight with fear, and as we made our way onto the crooked path, I looked back to see Jack watching me leave. He smiled, and I felt heartened. It had begun to rain inside the forest, and all was silent except for the rumble of the engine. We arrived at the clearing, our figs ready. The two men helped us wrestle the cages to the ground, grunting under the effort. Cora kept an eye out for any signs of the wandering poachers. I called her over to the area we had been sitting in the past two days.
“Shh!” came her reply, her eyes narrowed.
Her nerves were frayed like mine, but I resented her short temper. I shook my head, droplets of rain trailing down my face. Keep it together, I warned myself. We positioned ourselves, the two locals backing off into the trees to keep a lookout. Both cages were now open, and we’d placed figs on the floor of each. I heard a hoot, and Jack came crashing through the brush, excited to see his new friends. Lulu was close behind. They stopped at the sight of the cages, and my heart lurched. I hoped their hunger and newfound trust would trump any fear of the unknown. Cora was holding her breath too, and her eyes met mine. I slowly crawled over to the mouth of one of the cages and casually ate a fig. Jack was curious, and approached me. His little hand reached up to one of the bars, and sensing this could be a new game, he hooted and climbed on top. A small sound escaped Lulu, and I looked into her face, now closer to me than it had ever been. She reached up, and Jack came back to her side. She kept her gaze on mine, and slowly walked into one of the cages, Jack following. It was too much to hope for, for two chimps to willingly enter a cage. But my sense that she knew this was best for her proved to be right. I thanked my ability to be able to communicate this directly to her, and as Lulu settled on the bottom of the cage, Jack happily hanging from the top bars, I slowly closed the door. Cora moved closer and latched it.
“I don’t know how you do it, but I think it’s fair to say you should get most of the credit for this one, Dr. Brice.” She spoke quietly, her face incredulous but her voice relieved, and I smiled at her. I held out my hand to the bars, and Lulu reached through them and took it, and for a moment we connected again, a shared peace between us. Cora went quietly to retrieve the men, and we loaded the single cage onto the truck bed. It was snug in there, but they’d be safe on their way to Tanzania. I looked around at the trees, and told Cora we should leave the other cage there, as a sign to the poachers that they had lost this fight. They’d know we’d been here, and that we’d won.