CHAPTER

14

Foghorn and I slept until late afternoon. Then I kept yawning while Dr. Langley talked about the new plan for saving the rhinos. Only eating the cakes stacked on my plate for afternoon tea kept me awake.

“Maybe ‘Operation Manicure’ would be a better name,” I said, when I heard about it. “Since you said the horn was made of the same stuff as our fingernails.”

“You’re probably right, C.C.,” Dr. Langley laughed. “When I first heard this suggestion, I protested. I thought it was a terrible idea. But the more I thought about it, the better it sounded.”

“My teacher tells us that when we’re brainstorming, no idea is too silly to toss out. Sometimes the nuttiest ideas turn out to work best.” Foghorn was eating his share of tea cakes.

“I thought cutting off the rhino horns ourselves was inhumane, even cruel,” Dr. Langley continued. “But then someone pointed out that we had two choices. We could let poachers keep coming in here and killing rhino solely for their horns, or we could try this.”

“At least you’re buying time.” Dad scribbled more notes. “You may not have to do it for too long. If you can stop the demand for the horn, and the poachers don’t have a market, eventually they’ll stop taking the horn.”

“What will be the effects on the rhino’s behavior patterns?” asked Foghorn. “Don’t they fight with the horns?”

“Yes. We don’t know what kind of behavioral patterns we’ll change. I guess they’ll keep fighting.”

“I know someone who had her cat declawed. He kept fighting to defend his territory,” I said, remembering a neighbor back home.

Home. Mrs. Briggs’ chocolate chip cookies floated through my imagination. I could even smell them baking. I reached for another Kenya cookie. It was store-bought. I’d have to suffer for a few more days.

“Won’t you have to trim the horns often?” Foghorn had his journal out, too. He’d probably been filling in the events of the last two days while I slept. “If they’re like fingernails or hair, they’ll grow back.”

“That’s right.” Dr. Langley puffed on his pipe. The tobacco smell floated on the late afternoon breeze. “About every six months probably. We don’t know that yet, either. This is all an experiment. We do know the males occasionally will break a horn while fighting, but no one has watched long enough to time the horn’s coming back, its growing speed.”

“I think the experiment will be worthwhile.” I thought of Mia and Pablo, safe for now—but for how long, since there would be more poachers.

We went out early the next morning for the first step in the experimental process of cutting rhino horns._It wasn’t hard to find Pablo and Mia again. In fact, they came running when they heard the sound of the Land Rover.

“You can see we have to stop this.” Dr. Langley got out. “We have them much too tame.”

“Miya, miya,” said Mia, but this time it was in greeting, not fear. She came right over to me, and I rubbed her nose. She tugged on my jacket sleeve with her funny lip.

“No, don’t eat my coat.” I tried to get loose.

Dr. Langley carefully measured and prepared a hypodermic needle with a drug to sedate each rhino in turn. Even as tame as they were, they wouldn’t stand still while someone sawed off their horns.

Mia was first. She seemed confused at being so sleepy. She got down slowly, then sprawled on the grass. Foghorn and I held her head while Dr. Langley carefully sawed off her tiny horn.

“It’s rather like papier mâché.” He held out the hunk of ugly horn. The keratin fibers were tightly packed to form the base and small blunt point. I could hardly believe it was worth more than gold. I fingered the rough texture of the horn. It didn’t weigh much.

“Poor Mia.” I stroked her head. “Now you look really funny.”

“I don’t think she’ll notice.” Dr. Langley got up. “Want to help me with Pablo, Foghorn?”

Dad and Foghorn went to hold Pablo, after two native helpers helped catch him, and Dr. Langley had given him his shot. I stayed seated on the grass beside Mia. I was afraid she’d be scared when she woke up. I wanted her to know a friend was with her.

“How could I have fallen in love with such a funny, ugly beast?” I whispered to her, although of course she couldn’t know what I was saying. Beauty and the beast, I thought, patting my hair into a little bit of order. I’d never say it out loud. Foghorn would have a comment about my thinking I was beautiful. But compared to a rhinoceros, I was gorgeous. I giggled. “Dad, will you take my picture with Mia?”

Dad was standing around while Pablo got drowsy. “Sure, C.C. Hey, this is quite a shot. You with a rhino’s head resting in your lap. Bet you’ll never get to do that again.”

He snapped several photos with his camera and mine. I realized this was a scoop we were getting. Maybe rangers in other places in Africa were starting to trim rhino horns, but Dad’s stories and pictures might be among the first.

“If this works, we’re in the forefront of science.” Foghorn came over to have his picture taken with Mia and me.

“If it doesn’t work, kids, you may be seeing the last of the wild rhino. Yours may be the last generation to see this mighty animal in the wild.”

It seemed like a melodramatic statement, but I knew it was true. I had to believe it wouldn’t happen.

Elias came over from the Land Rover with news. Two native scouts that Dr. Langley had sent out had radioed that they’d found the other pair of juvenile rhinos.

“Tell Dokolo to keep track of them until we’re finished here. We’ll do a good day’s work.”

When Mia was able to sit up, she looked drowsy but bewildered. Finally she struggled to her feet and took a couple of wobbly steps.

“It’s okay, Mia. You’re okay.” I clicked off several photos. “Go on. Go away.” I shooed at her with one hand.

Suddenly she felt in charge of the situation. She made her peculiar huffing sound that said she thought she was in danger. She had already forgotten it was a friend standing beside her. Off she bounced toward the high grass. Her tail stood high, cocked to one side as she left.

Foghorn and I watched her leave. “Maybe by the time her horn grows back, she’ll have forgotten people, be afraid of them,” I said.

“I prefer to think that by the time it gets big enough to count, Dr. Langley and Koji will have stopped poachers from coming into this park,” Foghorn said. “Kwaheri, Mia.”

“Good-bye,” I called as well. “Maybe Dad will get another assignment here someday. We can come back and see them.”

We spent the day in the field, stopping for lunch, of course. We sat on a hill, overlooking the grassy veldt. I leaned on a tree and peered through my binoculars. Off in the distance I spotted antelope and a herd of zebras. Flies buzzed through the heated air. Otherwise it was silent, peaceful. It was hard to believe there were still killers loose out there. Merchants of death, Dad had called them. That was what he was calling one of his articles.

We found the other two teen rhinos and gave them their haircuts, or manicures as I preferred to call it. They protested a lot more than Mia or Pablo, not believing it was for their own good.

For two days we drove and looked for other rhinos, taking pictures of all the animals as we searched. Then Koji came to the camp to give us a ride to Nairobi so we could catch our plane home.

“Was Julius involved in the poaching?” asked Foghorn as we loaded up our gear. He hated leaving any loose ends to a case.

“We think Minto used him only as a lookout and to keep an eye on you two after he’d seen you spot the automatic in the Masai village. We arrested him and Wallace, but they’ll probably get probation back to their village. Their parents will punish them as well. Most of the Masai people understand what we’re trying to do out here. They respect the animals. And some of their economy has grown to depend on the tourists who come to see our country.”

I looked at my bracelets. “I’m afraid they made only fifty cents on me. I’m not a very good customer.”

“C.C., why didn’t we think of it?” Foghorn frowned. “Mrs. Briggs might have loved that marriage necklace that Masai woman offered you for twenty-one dollars. We’d have helped the economy here and brought her a very unique gift.”

“Hey, I don’t want her going off and getting married. She’s too good a cook. And who would worry about our getting eaten by tigers or some other disaster befalling us?”

“I will.” Dad swung his suitcase into the back of the Land Rover. “Now get in the car, you two, so I can keep an eye on you. At least I’ll know where you are for the next twenty-four hours.”

“You’re not going to let us go shopping before we leave Nairobi?” I said. “I want one of those tablecloth dresses some of the women wear and a basket.”

“I’ll go with you. I’m not letting you out of my sight. And I’m still thinking about grounding you for two weeks when we get home.” I didn’t think Dad was too angry, now that we were safe, but he had to pretend he was. He couldn’t let us think the crazy stunt we’d pulled was all right.

“That’s okay,” whispered Foghorn to me in the backseat. Dad was in the front with Koji. “It will take me at least two weeks to write up this adventure properly.”

“And I have to develop all these pictures and make them into a slide show, not to. mention for several reports for school.”

“Besides, nothing ever happens in Denver.” Foghorn stared out the window as a small herd of gazelles leaped gracefully away from the noise of the car.

Foghorn could say that, but I wouldn’t. My brother attracts trouble like a rhino attracts tick birds. Fortunately he is usually able to think of some way to get out of it. I’d never tell him this, but I’m glad he’s my brother. I’m glad I can always be along to watch. Rubbing the back of my head, the sore bump reminded me that I’d done a little more than watch this trip. But I’d forget that pain in a couple of weeks, too.

I turned to watch a herd of wildebeest watch us drive by. “Kwaheri” I whispered out the window. “Good-bye, Mia. Kwaheri, Pablo. Salaama. Peace be with you. And good luck.”