CONTESTED LAND: AIMEE ROBERTSON, #1

By Bronwyn Howard

Soon after the tragic death of his wife, Logan Springfield, top mining lawyer at an auspicious Johannesburg law firm, stumbles upon a client committing a nefarious act.  Within days, his job and career are on the line. 

Four years later, he is working at a game lodge bordering the Kruger National Park when Dean Carter makes him an offer he can't refuse - and an opportunity to be an influential player in South Africa's embryonic oil and gas industry.  But Logan rapidly discovers that everything he holds dear could be destroyed, affecting thousands of lives. 

As the shadow of his past looms ever larger, can Logan appease his conscience while doing what Carter wants - securing gas and oil exploration rights over a South African province that supplies vast quantities of water to a dry country?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bronwyn Howard
• Release date: Jul 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9780639815909

Bronwyn Howard

Bronwyn Howard is a South African-based author who is passionate about nature, wildlife and conservaton, as well as environmental issues.  She loves nothing better than being in the great outdoors and writing to make a difference.  She started out as a travel writer and wrote freelance for several South African magazines and newspapers before starting to produce her own digital magazines in 2009.  She lives in the small town of Utrecht in northern KZN in the shadow of the Balele Mountains, with her husband and a small, black cat.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

LOGAN SPRINGFIELD ENTERED the corner office at law firm Brennan Lockhardt.  Picture windows afforded a view over Sandton, Johannesburg’s commercial hub, which was re-building yet again.  The office was sumptuously furnished with antiques, a Persian carpet, a bookcase filled with leather-bound legal tomes and original paintings by South African artists.  Mr Marston, the senior partner, shifted in his leather chair, jowly face creased in a scowl, spectacles dangling from a pudgy hand, as he listened to Blake Edwards.  He glanced up as Logan entered.  Please sit down, he ordered, gesturing to the visitor’s chairs.

Logan sat, his outward calm belying his inner turmoil.  His body still ached but the suit hid the worst of his bruises.  How had the situation escalated so quickly, beyond his client’s ability to control things?  And why had he had the misfortune of seeing what they had done?  His gut churned.  They would say he was unbalanced after his wife’s tragic death just months before; that, ironically in a law firm, he was working too hard. 

With respect sir, Blake Edwards was saying, this wasn’t Mr Springfield’s fault.  He went there for a community meeting.  He had no idea the situation was so volatile.  After that dreadful storm, half the property was impassable, signs were down and cell towers were out.  Mr Springfield was assaulted.  He was lucky he wasn’t seriously hurt.

Logan’s hands turned clammy as he recalled the chaos and unbridled fury of that morning.  He still felt queasy when he remembered what he had witnessed and how, once the mine knew he’d seen their nefarious deeds, they’d efficiently launched a cover-up.  He had advised them on a difficult situation but had never imagined how things might play out. 

And now, they wanted his head.  Blake Edwards was doing his best but Logan could see it was a lost cause.  Mr Marston turned to him.  Mr Springfield, I believe you advised the mine regarding their, uh, situation?

Logan cleared his throat.  Yes, sir, I did.  They wanted to know what their legal options were and I made recommendations.  I also told them that, because the law allowed certain actions, it did not absolve them of their moral obligations.  It’s in the correspondence.  That meeting was to be a final attempt to resolve the stand-off.  And then I took the wrong road and saw what they were doing... his voice trailed off.  He could see from Mr Marston’s expression that he was unmoved.

Mr Marston turned to Blake.  Mr Edwards, I’m holding you, as department head, responsible for what happens next.  We cannot control past events.  The mine owner is my personal friend and he’s dissatisfied.  While I agree it’s regrettable that Mr Springfield was in the wrong place at the wrong time, they want him out.

Can we not refer them to another partner? Blake asked.

Mr Marston replaced his spectacles. I’m afraid not, Mr Edwards.  They want Mr Springfield gone and that’s the end of it.

Logan fought his anger and remorse.  The whole thing was a nightmare.  His secretary was fielding abusive calls.  Strangers were threatening to kill him.  And now, his job was on the line.  Beneath his rising sense of injustice, part of him wondered if he didn’t deserve it - he’d given the mine advice and it had backfired.

Mr Marston finally looked Logan in the eyes.  We can’t terminate you without notice - labour law prohibits it.  What we’ll do is this: you’ll sign a confidentiality agreement and hand in your notice.  There is a vacancy in corporate, as it happens, which you can fill temporarily.  Mr van Vuuren is backlogged and he’s happy to have you.  You’ll transfer today.

Mr Marston looked at Blake.  Mr Edwards, please do the necessary.  Once Mr Springfield resigns, we’ll discuss a replacement.  He nodded to them.  That will be all. 

LOGAN AND BLAKE LEFT the office.  Let’s take the stairs, Blake said and Logan knew he wanted to use the service stairs that ran between floors so they didn’t meet anyone in the lift.  On the next landing, Blake faced Logan.  In a low voice, he swore and said, I can’t believe this.  You didn’t do anything wrong.  We agreed on the strategy and now you’re being asked to leave.

Logan leaned against the wall.  His body still hurt.  Blake, I appreciate everything you’ve done.  The fact is: the client did wrong.  They know it and they’re panicking because they got caught.

By their lawyer too, Blake smiled grimly.

I wonder if I didn’t precipitate it.  I advised them on the letter of the law.  I told them they had certain rights and absolved them, in a sense.  I’m sorry you’ve got caught in this.

You also told them the law didn’t eliminate their ethical obligations, Blake said.  We discussed it.

Ja.

Blake sighed.  It was a pity the storm knocked out their comms and they couldn’t reach you.

Nothing we can do.  Logan smiled determinedly at Blake.  Thanks for supporting me.  I know you tried but it’s out of our hands.

Blake grimaced.  Apparently.  They continued walking down the stairs.  Who’s your secretary?

Lisa Bowman.

Ask her to come and see me.  There are some opportunities in litigation.

I’ll send her after we’ve sorted out my office, Logan said.  They reached their floor and exited the stairs. 

Lisa, his secretary of five years, was appalled when Logan told her the news.  No!  Is this about that mine?

Logan avoided the question.  Blake wants you to see him - there are some vacancies in litigation.  You’ve been a great secretary.  I’ll do your reference today.

Thanks.  She looked at the stacks of files in his office.  Are we going through everything?

They want me in corporate by lunch time.  I’ll be working for Mr van Vuuren.

That old...  She saw Logan’s expression and quieted. What should I do?

He looked at his in tray, always overflowing. File that, then diarise all files.  Please can you get me a box for my personal stuff?

Sure, she said, hurrying out.

Erik van Vuuren was a dour individual, who regarded Logan coldly when he appeared at the lawyer’s office doorway, box of personal belongings in hand.  Vera, the secretary, showed Logan to his new office.  It was a small, spare room, where a narrow window framed a view of the next building.  The desk was empty, save for a telephone, desktop computer and some stationery.  If you need anything, I’ll get it tomorrow, she said.  Mr van Vuuren wants to brief you when you’re organised.  Logan hung his jacket over the chair back, and put away the stationery and his belongings.  Then he squared his shoulders and approached Mr van Vuuren’s office.

THAT EVENING WAS HIS drinks night with Ben Hollis, his father-in-law.  Logan’s attractive, vivacious wife, Tanya, had been in a coma for two years following an ill-fated car accident, which had occurred when Logan was on a business trip.  Specialists had told Logan and the Hollises just two months before that it was only the machines that were keeping her alive and the impossible decision had been reached - to terminate her life support. 

Logan was still struggling to come to terms with the fact that Tanya would never be part of his life again.  She had been three months pregnant when the accident happened and their unborn child had been lost too.  He had sued the other driver and, although the settlement had helped with the medical bills, it had not brought Tanya back.

The two years of waiting and hoping had been agonising.  Their medical aid had run out.  To keep Tanya and his dreams alive, he had sold their house in a leafy suburb, where they had planned to raise their family, and moved to a cramped townhouse.  After Tanya’s passing, he had sought refuge in work, while her inconsolable mother had spiraled into a breakdown.

Endeavouring to support one another, Ben and Logan had begun meeting once a week at a pub chain in Bryanston, where they joined the after-work crowd.  Today, Ben arrived late.  I got delayed and couldn’t seem to raise you, he said when he found Logan seated at a table.

Things were chaotic today, Logan said, finishing a whisky and soda.

Ben removed his jacket and announced that he was going to get a drink.  Can I get you another?

He returned with rum and cola for himself and another whisky for Logan.  Everything okay at work?

Logan started.  Why?

Switchboard couldn’t find you and your secretary seemed disorganised.  She’s normally very efficient.

Oh, ja.  Logan sipped while Ben waited.  They’re letting me go.  I have to work in my notice and then - I don’t know.

But you were doing well!  What happened?

Logan said, I discovered something I shouldn’t have and the client went ballistic.  Apparently, he’s buddies with our senior partner.  Now the initial shock had worn off, he was aware of how angry he was.  They’ve moved me to corporate for a month, starting today, to work in my notice.

You don’t need this.

You can say that again.  They’re dismantling my practice, my secretary’s being re-allocated...

It’s not the end, Ben said reasonably.  You can go somewhere else.

Logan leaned forward.  "Ben, this is a massive setback.  I’ve spent years building that practice."

I know.

There’s also the reputational damage.  It would have been better to terminate me.  Now everyone thinks I’m a problem.  The secretaries are already speculating, asking what I did.  For Logan these days, it was a long speech. 

"Why didn’t they terminate you?" Ben asked curiously.

It’s the labour laws.  They don’t have a case.  They’d have to follow procedure if there were genuine grounds to fire me.

After a moment, Ben said, What will you do?

"No idea.  I was a partner.  And word will get around.  If I could find someone prepared to take a chance, I could claw my way back.  Or I could hang out my shingle.  There’s always that."

Ben considered Logan while finishing his drink.  Want another?

No thanks, Logan said. 

Can I give you my penny’s worth?

Sure.

I think you should take a break - a sabbatical.

Logan thought for a moment.  I could.  But there are Tanya’s medical bills.

How much do you still owe?

Logan told him and Ben whistled softly.  I’ve got an arrangement, Logan explained.

For a moment, the two men sat in silence, chatter and canned music rising around them.  Then Ben said, Tell you what - I’ll take over the medical bills.

Logan drummed his fingers on the table.  I can’t let you.

Ben said firmly, Logan, you had a major setback when Tanya died.  She was the only girl you ever dated.  We had to end her life.  I’m sure you feel like hell - I know I do.  You’ve chosen to throw yourself into your work.  Fortunately, you’re in a profession that rewards that.  But you’ve never eased off.  And I’m not seeing you picking up the pieces.  Now your retreat into work has been cut off.  You need a break.  It’s either that or a breakdown or...

Logan looked quizzically at Ben.  He thought he’d done a reasonable job of keeping his desolation and growing isolation hidden.  Am I that obvious?

Not at all.  But we’ve both been through this and you’re not yourself.  And you won’t see a professional, as I’ve suggested.

Logan ran a hand through his hair.  I feel, I don’t know... like the rug has gone from under me.

Let’s do this.  Let’s see the hospital administrator and sort out Tanya’s bills.  Work in your notice and think about what you’d like to do - take a trip, do a course, whatever.  If we take the hospital bills out of the equation, you can allocate some funds.  Maybe you’ll even find a new career.  There’s probably life after law.

Why are you doing this, Ben?

Because I can’t see another life going to waste.  Your father’s passed away, your mother’s in a care home with advanced Altzheimer’s, your brother’s in Australia and you don’t get on.  Someone has to step up.  Might as well be me.

Logan felt as though a weight he didn’t know he was carrying had been lifted.  I don’t know what to say, Ben, I...

Just say thank you.

Thank you.  Let’s have another drink - on me.

Ben smiled.  We can certainly do that.  Maybe we should get some food, too.

FOUR YEARS LATER: SEPTEMBER

LOGAN

CHAPTER 1

SPRING IN THE LOWVELD IS hot and dry, the heat escalating relentlessly before the rains break.  Deciduous trees unfurl new leaves, creating a green carpet stretching to the Lembombo Mountains.  Grass blackened by winter fires turns emerald, drawing impala, zebra and wildebeest.  At night, nocturnal creatures cross the landscape like shadows beneath starlit skies - lions, leopards, hyenas, bushbabies and owls, fighting, hunting and mating in a complex matrix of survival, death and birth.  Migratory birds return, arriving in slow sweeps along ancient flyways to reach their summer roosts. 

Spring in southern Africa is the start of the tourist season.  Visitors escaping colder, northern climates flock to the continent’s southern tip, coming for the wildlife and cultural experiences, hiking on Table Mountain, tasting fine wines or sunbathing on golden beaches.  Some might visit luxury lodges on private game reserves adjoining the Kruger National Park.  Nearly all dream of seeing the Big Five: buffalo, elephant, lion, leopard and rhino.

Logan stepped onto the wooden deck perched on a bank of the Sand River in the Sabi Sands Private Game Reserve.  The river was sluggish and crocodiles haunted the pools, while storks fished from the banks.  High tea was in progress.  On a table beneath the eaves were cakes and sandwiches, coffee and tea.  Logan and the mechanic had been repairing a bakkie used to collect supplies.  He had barely had time to shower, change into his khaki uniform with the Ndlovu Lodge logo on the pocket, and get out the game drive vehicle.

Tourist season was just starting, the experience still relaxed.  By May, he would be jaded after months spent locating the Big Five, serving drinks, answering questions about African wildlife, finding lost luggage and talking to people about their lives.  But now there was an air of rejuvenation in the land after winter and people felt it too. 

He smiled as he approached the American family - parents, two teenage children and a grandmother.  The guy is a big shot in oil and gas, Lizette, the receptionist, had told him.  They want to see how the South African game experience compares to East Africa. 

Logan had said drily, Let’s hope we compare favourably.

The parents were Dean and Lynne Carter and their children, Elaine and Jeremy.  The grandmother, Viv, was Lynne’s mother.  All were casually dressed.  Jackets, binoculars and cameras lay on a table, along with a Guide to African Mammals and, surprisingly, an East African bird book.  That meant he could show them birds too.  Contrary to wildlife documentaries, the bush did not constantly teem with game and birding helped fill in the gaps.

He asked the clients what they’d like to drink for sundowners and went to make the arrangements.  He returned and helped himself to coffee and cake before joining the guests.  We’ll have sundowners at Bokkie Pan.  I believe you know the drill.  They nodded, Jeremy confirming that they’d visited Tanzania’s Serengeti previously. 

It’s not the migration, Logan said, referring to the annual East African wildlife spectacular, when zebra and wildebeest migrated across Tanzania’s Serengeti Plains into the Mara, but we do have excellent game viewing. 

Game scouts had been working since early afternoon.  Logan knew an elephant herd was moving towards Bokkie Pan and the guides were tracking leopards in a dry riverbed.  A pride of lions were in Section 4, along with general game, and there might be some action later.

Jeremy was the birder.  He asked Logan about raptors.  Elaine wanted to text friends.  Logan explained that there was little signal and she’d need to go to reception, where there was a booster. 

He stood up.  Let’s go.  As they climbed into the open safari vehicle, he turned on the radio, enabling him to communicate with the lodge, scouts and game drive vehicles from other lodges, so they could collaborate. 

Two other lodges had no guests and another vehicle was in a restricted area with researchers.  Samviti had guests but Johann van Staden was planning to follow a tributary of the Sand River.  Logan passed on the information about the elephants and they arranged to meet at Bokkie Pan.  He radioed the scouts and Patterson said the lions were still active, moving across Ngwenya Flats, where giraffes were browsing thorn trees.  A lioness had caught a hare, so they were hunting, which was promising.

The guests enjoyed the zebras, wildebeest and impala.  Logan spotted a brown-headed snake eagle and the first European bee-eaters for Jeremy.  Elaine took pictures of impala with her phone, commented that wildebeest were ‘ugly’ but was enchanted by a tiny steenbuck.  Logan pointed out fork-tailed drongos making squeaky toy calls. 

They’re following us!  Jeremy observed.

Logan liked kids who were interested.  Ja, they’re gleaning the insects we stir up.

They talked birds for a while until Logan stopped at a hippo-filled dam.  Dean took photographs.  They get out at night, Logan explained.  They spend the whole day in water, walking around, keeping the channels of rivers and streams open.

Aren’t they one of Africa’s most dangerous animals? Dean asked.

They don’t like anything, including people, in their space.  I heard about a guide who lost a leg to a hippo while canoeing the Zambezi.

I’d like to do that one day - canoeing the Zambezi, I mean, Dean laughed.  He glanced around at his family.  That can be our next African adventure.

Sure Dad, Elaine said.  She looked bored and Logan told them they would soon reach their sundowner spot.

Johann had arrived at Bokkie Pan.  "The ndlovus are here," he radioed Logan, using ranger speak aiming at surprising clients with sightings.

Dean overheard.  That’s elephants, he said, I remember from the Serengeti.

Ja.  Logan stopped the vehicle.

The elephants were on the far side of Bokkie Pan, drinking and playing.  Samviti’s clients were milling around, sipping drinks.  The Americans got out and started chatting to them, comparing sightings.  Frogs croaked from the reeds, sunset daubing the sky pink and peach.

Before getting out, Logan raised Patterson on the radio.  Where are those cats?

Still here. There are some giraffes coming across.  Where are you?

Sundowners at Bokkie Pan.  There are elephants here.

Patterson groaned.  Don’t be too long.

Okay, I’m going off air now.

The tourists were engrossed in the elephants.  Elaine was delighted with a small one.  Is that a baby? she asked, as Logan exited the vehicle.

He looked across.  It’s about two years old.  Everyone okay?

This is awesome!  Jeremy said.  He had his camera out and was clicking away. 

Don’t use your whole memory card, Logan cautioned him.  There might be something special later.

What intel have you got?  I heard you on the radio. The teen looked excited.

That was Patterson.  He looks for animals for you lot.

More elephants!  Elaine said excitedly. 

Logan moved to the back of the vehicle.  How about some drinks?

Dean came over.  That sounds good.

Logan unfolded a picnic table, dispensing drinks and snacks, and took a beer for himself.  He went to stand beside Johann.  A new group?  the other asked.

Our second.

Off we go, big five, big five... then this lot goes and we do it all again.  It was Johann’s second season.  He was doing a correspondence course in marketing and planned to start a tourism marketing enterprise.  Logan didn’t know how he did it but he suspected Samviti asked less of its staff. 

How was your leave?  Logan asked.  Johann had taken long leave during the winter off-season to work for a Pretoria tour operator and get hands-on experience.

Hard work, nice girls.  Johann laughed, finishing a whisky.

I see you’ve become a whisky drinker.

Only for today, for the new season.

Logan laughed.  Ja.

And you?  Did you get away?

No, we were doing maintenance and yours truly was overseeing it.  Replacing thatch and when you get back the monkeys have pulled out half what you did the day before, painting, fixing...  We put in a dining area by the river - we got special permission - so we can take guests for meals in the bush.

Nice, Johann said, The rest of us have to move all our stuff around.

Logan shrugged.  Ja, well...

Johann observed, When you’ve been out here, you appreciate the city.  The shops, the girls... Oh, I met this hot chick at the tour operator.  We’re going to keep in touch...

That’s nice, Logan said.  He didn’t tell Johann about the journalist who had visited the lodge in August.  She’d been the only guest.  Spunky, too.  She hadn’t spooked when a white rhino barrelled towards them when they were on foot and they’d had to duck behind a termite mound.  He’d liked her but his hours would kill any relationship.  She had phoned twice; he’d missed her second call because he’d been arguing with painters. 

In the meantime, Johann spread his arms, there’s this...

Enjoy it while it lasts.

I’ll still get to the bush when I have my company.  Johann watched the elephants.  There’s a new lodge on the Pongola River looking for a manager.  I can give you details if you’re interested.

Logan shrugged.  He couldn’t tell Johann he’d sold his car because he didn’t earn enough to maintain it.  Ben Hollis had been having business problems too and it looked as though he wouldn’t be able to continue paying the hospital.  Logan hadn’t quite worked out what to do.  Uh, thanks, but it’s okay.

The women had found a frog.  Dean’s motor drive had stopped and Johann’s clients were clambering onto their vehicle, putting on jackets for the chill night drive on the back.   

Logan dropped his voice.  Patterson says there are hungry lions at Ngwenya Flats.

Thanks.  I’ll give you some time.

We’re the only guys out.  You can come if you want.  Come in from Jackalberry cutline and I’ll go in from Nyala.

Thanks, man.  We haven’t got scouts like you.

You’re lucky I share my intel with you.  The two laughed and Logan hurriedly stopped Jeremy from wandering off into the darkening bush.  The teen said he was looking for owls and Logan promised to find some.

The sun was almost gone and a chill breeze had sprung up.  Johann stowed his cooler box and snack basket.  He started the engine and gave Logan a thumbs up.

Let’s go, Logan said to the Carters and began stowing his own sundowner gear.  He plugged in his hand-held spotlight as the Carters made themselves comfortable.  The short African twilight was descending as they drove slowly to Ngwenya Flats.  The spotlight found red eyes in a tree.  Galago bushbaby, he said.  Dean and Elaine photographed it.

We’re going to go a bit faster, okay? he told his clients.  There’s something we don’t want to miss.

Logan, Logan come in.  It was Patterson.

Go ahead.

"Those simbas are here, they’re circling.  I’m going off now."

Copy, thanks.  They signed off with clicks.

Approaching Ngwenya Flats, Logan saw Patterson driving off, Johann coming in behind the scout.  Johann’s spotlight shone through the bush.  Then Logan saw the lions, surprisingly close to the road.  He illuminated them, careful not to blind the animals, and turned off the engine.  These are lionesses, he told the Carters softly.  They do all the work, then the male eats first.

So much for women’s lib, Lynne muttered and everyone grinned.

What are they doing?  Dean whispered.

You’ll see.  As Logan spoke, the light picked up giraffes wandering out of some acacia trees.  The lionesses closed in.  The giraffes ambled towards Logan’s vehicle, the lionesses quietly circling around the tall animals.  Suddenly, the giraffes seemed to sense something amiss.  They wheeled abruptly, running back to the trees.  But one was slower and the lionesses, quick to see the gap, moved in, cutting off the hapless animal.  Logan realised the cats were using the vehicle to prevent the giraffe from escaping to the road.

A lioness mounted the giraffe from the back, hanging onto its haunches with teeth and claws.  She was slightly off-sides and a second lioness grabbed the other haunch.  At the same time, a third lioness danced in front, carefully avoiding the giraffe’s flying hooves as it attempted to kick itself free.  There was a moment when it almost succeeded; suddenly the two back lionesses were airborne, firmly dug into the flesh.  The front lioness saw her chance.  She rushed in and leaped up the giraffe’s neck, delivering a powerful bite.  Suddenly, the animal’s legs gave way and it tumbled to the ground, the lionesses quickly subduing it.  When the animal was still, a big male lion entered centre stage.  The lionesses moved back while it ripped open the carcass and began to feed.  I can’t watch, Lynne moaned softly. 

It’s okay, honey, Dean said, while Jeremy groaned, Oh mom!

The lionesses then moved in for their share, the male growling and swiping at them.  The females moved onto the opposite side of the kill.  Logan said softly, Later, the jackals and hyenas will find this.  They watched the lions for a while and, when he sensed the clients getting restless, Logan started the vehicle and they drove slowly away.

Dean exclaimed, Did you see that?  Logan started up and the lions didn’t even get up.

They’ll eat until they can’t move.  Literally, Logan explained.  They never know where their next meal is coming from, so they make the most of their kills.  And they don’t share.

He radioed Johann.  Did you get that?

Ja, thanks, man.  We’ll go a bit closer now.

Enjoy.  Click, click.

We didn’t see this in East Africa, did we, honey? he heard Dean ask his wife.

No, we didn’t.

When will the vultures get here? Jeremy wanted to know.

In the morning.  If you see vultures flying above the bush, there’s a good chance something’s been killed, Logan told him.  Tomorrow there’ll be a couple of species here.

Oh, cool.

I don’t think I’d like that, Viv said.

You can stay at the lodge if you want, mom, Lynne told her. 

Logan said, You can sit on the deck and watch the animals coming to drink.  The veld’s very dry, so we get a lot coming in.

There you are, mom, Dean said. 

Later, Logan found a spotted eagle owl for Jeremy, the bird’s golden, saucer-like eyes mimicking the full moon that turned the veld silver.  What a shot! Dean enthused.  Can you keep the light on it?

CHAPTER 2

THREE DAYS LATER, LOGAN found Dean standing alone on the wooden deck, leaning against the railing, watching a crocodile slip out of the water, to lie down on the sandbar.  It was half an hour before high tea.  Dean’s family was watching bushbuck at the lodge waterhole. 

Hearing Logan, Dean turned.  Hey.  Are the others still at the waterhole?

Logan said, Ja.  Jeremy’s birding in camp with Vusi.

Vusi’s one of your scouts?

Ja, he does some guiding too.  We’re getting him qualified.

Dean laughed.  I think he’s Jeremy’s favourite person.

After me, of course, Logan joked.  Can I get you anything?

No thanks, it’s almost tea time.  The calls of francolin erupted across the bush.  You’ve been doing this for a while, haven’t you? Dean said presently.

About four years.  Logan joined him at the railing.  It was unusual to have guests spend so much time at the lodge.  Normally, clients only stayed a day or two, as most were on tight schedules.  Despite their wealth, the Carters had a down-to-earth manner Logan liked. 

You enjoy it? Dean asked.

Love it.  There’s something new every day.  I’m thinking of getting into lodge management, he confided.

The pay’s not too good though, is it?  In Tanzania, and even here, the guides said the pay isn’t good.  And you work really hard.  I mean, you’re everywhere.

Keeps me on my toes.

Just then, Lynne hurried onto the deck.  Hi, Logan.  Dean, you need to get your things.

Sure, honey, I’ll be right there.

Okay.  She dashed off and they heard her calling her children.

Hypothetically, if you had a good offer, would you take it? Dean asked, as his wife’s voice faded.

Depends what it is, Logan said cautiously.

Dean nodded.  And attachments - girlfriend, wife, kids?

Oh, no, Logan laughed awkwardly.  It’s a bit difficult when you’re working almost 24/7.

Yeah, I can see how that would be, Dean said.  Johann seems to have a good idea: working here and getting qualified so he can have a regular life.  I was chatting to him when we were having morning coffee at, uh, Acacia Grove?

Spending so much time with the Carters, Logan had observed that Dean missed very little.  Ja.  And it’s a good idea - for Johann.

But he’s younger than you, early twenties.  What are you - thirties, forties?

Logan grinned.  Not that old.  Late thirties.

Dead nodded and the men turned as the family arrived, clutching jackets, binoculars and field guides.  Lynne set down Dean’s camera bag.  I’ve brought your jacket.

Thanks honey.

Elaine and Lynne had a brief disagreement about Elaine using her cell phone at reception.  Seeing that Elaine looked argumentative, Logan said, High tea’s ready.  Can I sort out your sundowner drinks?

Later, the drive unfolded seamlessly.  They found two giraffes fighting, smacking their necks together hard, the sound like miniature thunderclaps.  As often happened, the ubiquitous herds of impala, so entrancing at first, elicited a quick negative when Logan asked whether he should stop.  "There are so many of them, you know?" Lynne said.

Yeah, they’re the MacDonalds of the bush, Jeremy parroted Logan’s early jokes.  They feed the predators.  Hey, there’s another lilac-breasted roller.

They’re much prettier than impalas, Elaine said and they all looked at the colourful bird.

Visits to the lion kill had become mandatory but now the carcass was almost gone.  Logan had shown the Carters the rare hooded vultures, explaining the birds were last to arrive because they had thin, hooked beaks, ideal for gleaning the very last bits of meat.  One evening, they’d found hyenas crunching the bones.  The remains had begun putrefying in the heat and the fetid stench was overwhelming downwind. 

Now zebra and wildebeest gathered beneath knob-thorns.  A bateleur swooped down from a considerable height to grab a grasshopper. How’d he see that? Jeremy exclaimed.  A guineafowl family impressed Viv, who had become enamoured of them.  Two white rhinos faced off in a clearing and a lion sunned itself on a rock slab.  They found an elephant herd in a dry riverbed, digging for water.  After dark, Patterson’s information had them scouring the banks of another dry riverbed for over an hour until the spotlight revealed a leopard in the brush. 

Returning to the lodge, the scent of potato bushes wafted from hollows and spring hares bounded away. I see why they’re called spring hares, Dean remarked. 

Logan found a porcupine by chance.  No, they don’t shoot their quills, he replied to Jeremy’s question, but they stand them on end for protection and lose them if they’re attacked.

They got back late owing to their leopard search and ate dinner in the boma.  You’re not too tired, are you? Dean asked Logan after the rest of his family had left with a night watchman who escorted everyone safely to their chalets, as the lodge was unfenced.

Although he’d need to get up at 4 a.m., Logan politely said he wasn’t.  Let’s get a night cap - on me, Dean said, calling the waiter over and ordering brandy snifters.  Logan told the waiter not to wait up for them and the man slipped away.

They took their chairs and drinks to the fireside.  Logan put on another Combretum log.  This is slow burning, he told Dean.  Lasts for hours, so you don’t use a lot.  He sat quietly, warming the glass in his hands and watching the sky.  The bright, almost full moon virtually blotted out the stars.  He could just make out the Southern Cross.  Jackals called and, further away, hyenas whooped and a lion grunted like a saw rasping across wood.  A fiery-necked night jar shouted: Good lord deliver us, good lord deliver us...  A breeze rustled trees and undergrowth. 

Peaceful, huh?  Dean broke in.

It is.

I’m not looking forward to Cape Town, Dean sighed, but I’ve got business there and the family loves it.  Plus we want to do the wine farms again.

Logan sipped his brandy.  Then you go back to the States?

We do.  But I’ll be coming back soon on business.

Oh?

Yeah.  You know your government wants to start an oil and gas industry?  Companies are already applying for exploration rights.

There was a big fuss in the Karoo a while ago, Logan said.  I didn’t realise they were looking other places.

"My company, Joshua Tree Energy, wants to apply for rights.  We also work in Angola, Ghana and Rwanda.

I thought you just did the US, Logan said.

We started to diversify a couple of years back.  There’s technology now to extract what we call unconventional resources.  It’s been available for about fifteen years back home.  We can use it to get to new oil and gas reserves in Africa too, Dean explained.

I see, Logan said politely, wondering why Dean was telling him this.  They hadn’t talked business before.

Ever wonder why we’re spending so much time here? Dean asked him then.

I did actually, Logan admitted.

"We’re going to need someone locally, an operating officer to oversee things.  I’ve got irons in so many fires, I can’t do the boots-on-the-ground stuff.  I get other people, preferably