Skip to main content

DAYS ON THE SAVANNAH ( DAY 5)


Life as a forest ranger was challenging, stretching one to the limits. But Louie had a deep calling to be one with nature, in the midst of the Savannah driving for miles in the vast grassland trying to spot injured animals or worse still, be on the lookout for poachers. He had to be vigilant every step of the way and watch his back at all times. 


Armed with a rifle and his most prized possession, a camera to capture wildlife he set off every morning. It was a taxing profession when he had to work night shifts on some days. 


Of late, there had been a spate of killings for ivory and rhino horns. This distressed Louie to a point of breakdown. He felt incompetent at his job as he couldn't save those innocent lives. He didn't know where the next target would be and when. Something had to be done to bring the culprits to justice.


He drove down to the tribal village upon the suggestion of Jabari, a team member and met with the chieftain. They had long meetings on how to curb these illegal activities. After consulting with the village elders and asking a few people around, they couldn't find any source who couldn't point out to that one errant tourist. 


This was going to be more difficult than he thought. Jabari looked lost and defeated too but invited him home for lunch. The sun was high and the day was scorching. Louie had much respite upon entering the thatched hut. Jabari’s ten-year-old son Zuri took a fancy to the camera and Louie gladly gave it to him after teaching him how to click pictures. With a wide grin, Zuri took it outside to click pictures of roosters and quails.


When it was time to leave, he showed Louie all the pictures. Something caught Louie’s attention in the background of one of the pictures. A group of tourists exchanging duffel bags and shaking hands with a shady looking man. It had to be an illegal deal happening not from here. He could catch them red handed if he was quick enough.


Jabari brought out the jeep in a trice and Louie hopped, his mind racing. An enraged crowd from the village followed them closely. They finally caught sight of the group. Meanwhile, Louie had alerted the team on his radio and a team of forest officials were on standby. 


They rounded up the tourists and their guide, recovering arms and weapons. Handcuffed and restrained, they were soon taken away. Zuri’s playful clicking had inadvertently captured the criminals. It was a godsent moment.


As the sun set in the horizon and painted the skies a fiery flame, Louie gazed heavenwards and offered a silent prayer of gratitude.

©️ Sangeetha Kamath

( 460 words)

Pic Courtesy: Asian Literary Society 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

ABERCROMBIE LOCKE MANSION

This post is part of the Blogchatter A2Z Challenge 2026.                                                  CHAPTER 1        ABERCROMBIE LOCKE MANSION  The sky bled bruises of plum and cherry over the rolling hills. A full moon hung low against the mauve casting silver shards through the trees. The mansion made of cold greystone loomed large beyond the rusted iron gates. It grated on the gravel, rasping on the hinges and yawned open like a predator's jaw as Goldwynn booted it open with her foot. Her sneakers squished heavily on the mulch of dead leaves. Clutching her backpack, she looked up at the towering, grim structure forebodingly.  "Are you sure you want to do this?" her friend Lexi whispered, hesitating by the gate. "This mansion's totally cursed, they say." Lexi's voice was a thin thread. A chill crept up her back and she tight...

Moxie N' Mettle

                                MOXIE N' METTLE  In slivers and fragments as my sleep tiptoes, did I do right or wrong my heart needles… Some skies are born of black holes and tempest wreck,  There glitters not a ray of light, nor a speck When curtains turbid hold all light hostage,  Sandstorms, hailstorms, dust storms, snowstorms, windstorms assail and ravage Spanning my wings as a raging fire  Or as a mellow glow of a fairy light in the distant darkness, quite debonaire I'll ignite my spark from within like a star born into itself spurting lava Or explode leaving trails of cosmic dust like a Supernova I will be the Sun creating galaxies and many a constellation.  Or burn like a single flame of the candle to keep my hopes and dreams alive with determination! I will be at my own pace I will be whoever and whatever I want to be—in my own race Collapse, crash and crumble! But I'll...

RUTHLESS REVELATIONS (DAY 16, LETTER R)

                            CHAPTER 15                RUTHLESS REVELATIONS The Three Little Pigs stood triumphant in the whimsical cottage's living room, surrounded by mismatched furniture and waltzing dust motes. Baconne , Porkinn , and Swinedell grinned at each other, puffing out their chests like gangsters. Baconne swaggered closer to the makeshift bar. "You know," he said, stroking his shoulder, "the Big Bad Wolf wasn't so bad after all, was he?" His grin split wide, showing a gold-capped tooth. The pigs snorted, their belly laughs vibrating the chandeliers above. Swinedell poured three tiny glasses of wild truffle liqueur with a theatrical flourish. "Cheers to us!" he growled, hoisting a glass. "We wanted his posh cottage for ourselves. Wolfie mutt was just defending his pad." His eyes glinted like cheap jewels. Goldwynn's face paled. She stammered as she whispered, " Wha...

THE BIG BAD WOLF( DAY 17, LETTER T)

                          CHAPTER 16                    THE BIG BAD WOLF  The pigs snarled like proper rascals, fixing their cold steely eyes on the Wolf's cottage. How dare he refuse to part with his cottage! When the pigs demand, it's given to them---no questions asked! Porkinn limped, Baconne was soggy, Swinedell rubbed a sore bump on his head, but they were far from defeated. Swinedell snorted, a crooked grin spreading across his face. "Wolf thinks 'e's posh, don't 'e? " Baconne sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring. "We want the cottage!” He growled. Porkinn cracked his fingers, his sly glance darting about.  The pigs crept towards the back door, their footsteps silent on the soft grass. They spotted the Wolf through the kitchen window, stirring a pot of steaming stew for dinner. They kicked the door in, the wood splintering jaggedly. The latch gave in....

ANAM CARA

The waves are soft and frothy. Laced with gossamer frills tenderly kissing the tips of my toes covered with the grainy sand of the rugged seashore where I'm sitting, wistful. A gust of briny breeze tousles my hair as I gaze as far as my eyes can see.  A flock of terns wheel overhead, their sharp, shrill cries punctuating the air as they dive and swoop over the surfs. A lone frigate bird , its crimson belly dazzling like a jewel skims majestically above, its long, slender wings outstretched as it rides the thermals high above the ocean. I absorb the sights and sounds of the late afternoon while absentmindedly scooping seashells beside me. As the afternoon phases, the furthest rim of the ocean is fringed in a gilded hem and the sleepy sun yawns, its dipping glow streaking the sky in a mellow tangerine and warm cherry. As I continue sitting there, the ships and yachts appear --specks of light from the portholes glimmering in the distance, reminding me of the phrase “That ship has sai...