The Thorn Tree Cafe

"If he was such a bad shot, why did you let him shoot the lion in the first place?"

"Well, the man paid to hunt a lion, and if he didn't get one, he'd have demanded his money back. I found him a lion standing still fifty yards way and broadside to him, the perfect shot. It should have been hard for him to miss, but he did."

"At least you saved his life."

I laughed.

"At the time, his life was the furthest thing from my mind. When a lion charges, he's not really particular about who he attacks. That person might have been me."

"Well, it should have attacked the coward who ran."

I waved my hand.

"Don't be too hard on the man. He was just scared. I was scared too. I just knew what to expect and reacted from experience. He didn't and he reacted just like most people probably would."

"So, you think most people are cowards?"

"No, not really. To me, a coward is someone who knows what is going to happen and is capable of doing what he should do, but chooses to run away instead. The man wasn't a coward. He was just doing what his instincts told him to do because he couldn't do anything else.

While I was talking, the sun had gone down and stars now dotted the night sky. Lisa looked up and gasped.

"I didn't realize there were so many stars. They're as beautiful as the sunset."

"It's because there aren't any artificial lights here like in a city. Even the smallest stars shine in the bush. I agree it is beautiful."

Lisa sighed.

"It must be wonderful to live here amongst all the animals and under these stars."

"Well, I think so, but I would suppose I'm not like most men. Most men I've run across like Africa for a couple weeks to a month, but they're ready to go home then. They like sleeping in a comfortable bed instead of a cot, and they like riding in automobiles or carriages instead of walking everywhere. They also like the normal accommodations for washing and other functions."

Lisa sipped her whisky, then smiled.

"I could live here, I think. Not here in the bush, of course, at least not all the time, but I could live here."

I chuckled.

"If you tell me that in a couple of weeks, I might believe you."

"Lisa yawned.

"I believe the day has tired me out. If you would be so good as to walk me to my tent, I believe I will curl up on my cot until morning."

I demonstrated to Lisa how to light her lamp and then how to arrange the mosquito netting once she was on her cot. After she tied the flaps of her tent behind me, I went back to my chair to wait half an hour or so after her lamp went out. Doing so was a standard practice for me when guiding a client. It was usual for a client to lie down for half an hour and then come to find me to complain about insects or an uncomfortable bed. Most clients expected an instant response to any complaint, and staying awake saved getting up and dressing again to solve his problem.

The next morning, I was up and having my tea under the dining fly when Lisa walked out of her tent and down the path to the latrine. A few minutes later she walked under the dining fly and smiled. I asked if she had slept well. She grinned.

"You expect me to say I did not, don't you?"

I shrugged.

"Most of my clients have some difficulty falling asleep the first few nights in the bush. Some of them say it's the sounds of the animals or the insects. Others say it's the lack of a soft mattress."

She smiled.

"I slept like a baby. My cot is comfortable, and the sound of the animals and insects only served to lull me to sleep last night. I woke this morning to the sounds of chattering birds just as I would have in London. As of this moment, I am starved. What is on the menu for breakfast?"

"Well, we won't be fixing one of the typical English breakfasts with sausage, bacon, eggs, and tomatoes, but we do have warthog ham and eggs with potatoes. The cook baked bread yesterday while we were out, so you'll have fresh toast with butter and marmalade, and of course, tea."

"I was hoping for something a little less English."

I chuckled.

"I could have one of the porters run to the local Maasai village and fetch you a gourd of milk mixed with cows blood."

Lisa made a sour face.

"Perhaps another day. Ham and eggs will do me just fine."

The safari began in earnest that morning, but in a different fashion than most. Most hunters came to British East Africa in search of what would later be known as the "Big Five", namely, elephant, black rhino, cape buffalo, lion and leopard. While these five animals all lived in the country, they preferred different habitats from each other. For instance, one would find lions and a few leopards in the open plains, while the cape buffalo preferred the cover of some brush near water. Leopards prefer to live where there are trees where they may store their kills to protect them from hyenas and other scavengers. Elephant, huge though they are, prefer taller grasses or dense forest to provide the vast quantity of food they require and in which they can nearly disappear from view.

A lot of every safari is usually consumed in traveling from one area to another. A hunter on a two week safari often had only two or three days in which to collect a trophy before moving on to a different area. True, in walking from one area to another, they were afforded ample opportunities to hunt various antelope and the ever-present warthogs, and most did so. Those trophies would later occupy space in a lavish game room, but the "Big Five" were those most sought.

As Lisa was only interested in seeing animals, I had decided to move camp only three times. The first week and a half would be spent on the plains, for there we would find the most wildlife Africa has to offer. Most species of grass eaters prefer the open grassland. There they find ample food, and the open space gives them plenty of room to run to escape predators. Water is important for most species, but many can go for weeks without drinking if there is sufficient grass. The predators of those grass eaters, mostly lions and hyenas and the smaller wild dogs that scavenge their kills, could also be found there.

Over the first week and a half, I guided Lisa through the grasslands by making use of the cover of the sparse thorn trees and gently rolling terrain to cover our movements. She proved to be adept at the stalk, never shying away from actions most women would consider to be both soiling and unladylike. Many were the times we crawled on hands and knees up a low rise to peek over the top at a herd of wildebeast or to spy upon a pride of lions resting in the shade.

If the rise in the land was low enough, even remaining as upright as being on all fours would spook the game, and we were forced to lie upon our bellies and crawl along like lizards. This means of travel produced some surprising results at times.

The second incident that forced this happened to be on ground that was rather sandy and resulted in Lisa's open bush shirt scooping up a small quantity of that sandy soil.

Once we had viewed the herd of grant's gazelles to Lisa's satisfaction, we stood. The sentries throughout the herd took notice, and in seconds, they were thundering away over the plains. I turned to ask Lisa if she would enjoy a short break before walking to a nearby water hole. The sight rendered me unable to speak for a few moments.

Lisa had turned away so her back was to me and Mjamba, and was in the process of unbuttoning her shirt. She had already pulled it from the tucked-in security of her trousers and as she fumbled with the buttons, the shirt rose up and bared her lower back.

She pulled the shirt open once all the buttons were undone and it was obvious she was brushing her hands over her breasts. I waited silently until she began buttoning up again, and then cleared my throat.

"Lisa, is there a problem with which you need some assistance."

Lisa giggled.

"No. I seem to have scooped some of Africa down the front of my shirt, but I have remedied that situation. It is of no consequence."

It might not have been of any consequence to her, but the sight of her bare back was very erotic to me, so much so in fact, I was forced to rearrange my manhood from it's position of pushing out my bush pants to lying upright against my belly.

Lisa unbuttoned the front of her pants then and began stuffing the shirt back inside. I saw no more bare skin, but the sight of her hands smoothing the shirt down over her hips was nearly as erotic.

Such an effect upon me might seem a bit of an exaggeration to modern readers, but one must remember, women seldom bared even their ankles in those times, much less so personal a part of their bodies as their backs. I was truly stricken with an erection of my manhood at the sight.

"There", Lisa chuckled as she turned around, "I am decent again, dirty, but decent. I believe your cold shower will get my use when we return to camp."

I only smiled. Would that I had that cold shower available to me at the very instant. It would have helped reduce my embarrassment to a great degree.

We secreted ourselves in some dense brush some distance from a waterhole for almost two hours that afternoon, and it was a profitable two hours. With the exception of certain antelope species, all animals must drink daily. A waterhole is an ideal place to see many species in a small area. Of course, lions and other predators realize this, so one must be cautious not to surprise a lion hiding in wait of an unwary zebra or gazelle.

Fortunately, we were alone in our hide, and were able to observe zebras drinking as well as several other species. Lisa was all smiles when we quietly stole away so as not to disturb remaining wildlife.

"The zebra foals are so beautiful, all legs and bright eyes, just as are the horse foals on father's estate. I could watch them for hours, and the birds that came to drink - such bright colors and there were so many."

I smiled.

"Water is life, so most animals must have it daily. Waterholes are like the nightclubs in London to the animals. One will see many different species gather there at the same time."

Lisa grinned.

"In some respects I believe you are correct. In others...I did not see any male zebras attempting to lure away a female as often happens in London clubs."

"Well, their purpose at the waterhole is to refresh themselves. As you saw before, stallions are more than adept at finding a willing mare under different conditions."

She grinned again.

"Yes, I remember, though their method is greatly different. I believe any man placing his nose anywhere near a woman's backside would be met with a firm slap to the face rather than the invitation of the mare I saw before."

I chuckled.

"Well, zebra's have many things with which to concern themselves, survival being the utmost. They have no time for lengthy courtships lest some lion or leopard end that courtship by making the suitor into a meal. It is seek and find a mate, then follow through."

Lisa smiled a rather wicked smile, I thought.

"At least the stallion makes his intentions known to the mare. I can not say the same for some of the men who have wooed me in London. They say many things, but their true goal is the same as the stallion's. A woman must be as careful in a London club as the zebra at a waterhole, that is, unless she is of like mind."

At the end of the week and a half, I had shown Lisa nearly all the wildlife of the grasslands. There were some species active only at night, so we were not able to see them as the moon was not full during that time. The morning of the tenth day, we upped-stakes and began the trek to a more densely forested area. There I hoped to find cape buffalo, giraffe, and rhino. All three species favor trees and brush as food as well as to hide themselves, though buffalo and rhino have no need to do so. They are large and strong enough few fall prey to lions unless aged and weak. Giraffe prefer the trees because they browse the thorny branches of the thorn tree for food.

Of the three, Lisa was impressed most by the cape buffalo, and she was not at all modest in her explanation.

We were at a safe distance from a small group of buffalo, "safe" meaning we were far enough away they could not easily see or smell us. Mjamba also continuously tested the breezes by dropping small amounts of fine dust and watching its path on the breeze. Our scent, though usually not detectable by humans, would have alarmed the beasts and caused them to either gallop away, or far worse, to become defensive. A cape buffalo on the defensive is no small matter that may be ignored. They have little to fear from any other animal and have no fear whatsoever of humans. They are heavy, powerful animals with pointed, hooked horns. Many times in my career I had come across the carcass of a lion that was gored by a buffalo. Those horns make frightful wounds.

Lisa stared at the herd for a while and then remarked, "The largest, there slightly away from the rest, is a bull is it not?"

"Yes. He is the dominant bull, and is the bull that will breed all the cows in the herd."

"He looks very virile. His...his...sack is so large and heavy."

I wondered then, as I had in the past, at Lisa's seeming fascination with the reproductive methods of the animals. She had immediately focused her attention on the bull's testicle sack and desired an explanation. I chose my words carefully for fear of causing Lisa some embarrassment.

"With all those cows to breed, he must be so. If he were not so large and strong, or if he could not manage to breed them all, another bull would drive him away. His sack, as you call it, ensures he has sufficient...that he can cover them all and produce calves the next spring."

Lisa giggled.

"I would wager he has not the slightest difficulty in accomplishing that feat."

We remained in the forested area for another week, then moved to a heavier forest. There, I would show Lisa the animals who prefer heavy cover such as the bongo and forest elephant. She marveled at the way both animals could hide only to appear as if by magic in some open area. At the end of that week, we began the walk back through the plains to my base camp. Once there, I would drive Lisa back to Nairobi in the lorry and then see her onto the train to Mombassa.

It was just afternoon on the first day of our trip back to my base camp that the large egyptian cobra reared up in front of us. It is relatively unusual to encounter snakes of any type, for they are secretive creatures who will usually slither away upon feeling the ground vibrations caused by walking nearby. Evidently, we had surprised this cobra and it resorted to its usual defense, that being rearing up to its maximum ability and spreading its hood to appear larger.

As I touched Lisa on the shoulder to stop her, I was thankful it was not one of the spitting cobra varieties sometimes encountered on the plains. I had seen natives permanently blinded by the twin spurts of venom these snakes can project to a distance of over six feet.

I needn't have stopped her. She had already frozen in place and was shaking in fear.

"Lisa, do not make any sudden movements, but back away very slowly."

At our first movement, the snake bobbed toward us slightly, and Lisa caught her breath. I gently squeezed her soft shoulder.

"Keep backing up. The snake is only telling us to leave it alone."

We had retreated about ten feet when the snake dropped back to the ground and moved off toward a termite mound a few yards away. I knew it would find a hole in the mound left by a foraging aardvark and hide until evening. I turned to Lisa.

"You can relax now. The cobra will not come back."

She was still shaking when she turned to face me.

"I was terrified and thought you would have to kill it before it bit one of us. They are deadly, are they not?"

"There was no reason to kill it. It was only giving us a warning. I'm surprised it was out in the open at this time of day because they usually stay hidden somewhere until the cool of the evening or morning. Yes, the bite of the cobra can cause death, but they don't kill as many people as other snakes in Africa, and they won't attack unless they can't get away. We weren't in any real danger unless we'd kept walking."

Lisa touched my arm.

"Thank you for saving me, even if there wasn't much danger."

My plan for the safari was to stop by a Maasai village on the way back to my base camp. Lisa wanted to see how the natives lived. On the last day of the safari, we walked around a small hill and spied the enkang of thorn tree branches that surrounded the village. Outside the enkang, we could see young boys herding the many cows that are the wealth of and furnish food for the Maasai people.

I had known this particular group of Maasai for years, and upon recognizing me, most of the village ran to greet us. Lisa was amazed by their appearance.

"The women have no hair, and neither do the children or older men, but the young men have very long hair. How odd."

I chuckled.

"The Maasai women shave their heads because hair is considered a mark of authority. The men with hair are warriors, and are the decision makers in Maasai society. They spend hours caring for and plaiting their hair."

Lisa grinned.

"I might have guessed men would run things. It's that way everywhere else I've been."

As the people got closer, they began to jabber away and point at Lisa, and when they were standing in front of us, a few of the women reached out to touch Lisa's long blonde hair. She looked at me with worry on her face.

"They're not thinking of shaving off my hair, are they?"

I laughed.

"No. They just rarely see a white woman and they're curious. They're a friendly bunch. Let me explain why we're here and you'll see that."

In the Maa language, I explained that Lisa wanted to see how the Maasai lived so she could tell other people about them. One of the men standing remarked that the enuto ceremonies were in progress, and the young men and women would dance that afternoon. He asked if we would like to stay to witness the dance.

I knew of this ceremony because I had seen it several times before. The enuto marked the transition from boy to man, and only after the ceremony could men marry. Since the number of legitimate children a man has is half the measure of his social worth - the other being the number of cattle he owns - it is very important for a man to marry. The dances done are actually mating dances designed to convey a man's physical prowess to the woman of the village, and to determine which men and women are interested in each other.

I relayed this information to Lisa who beamed.

"It is more than I hoped for. Perhaps the women would show me one of their houses and how they prepare for the dance."

I spoke again to the man who seemed to be in charge and asked Lisa's question. He smiled and spoke to the two older women nearest Lisa. They nodded and each grasped one of Lisa's hands. Lisa looked up at me.

"I will see you at the dance. We women have things to do."

The two women walked away with Lisa in tow while I and Mjamba spoke with the men of the village.

They had been plagued by a certain lion in the area and had lost several cows over the past few months. Their warriors had been able to track the lion and had managed to spear it once, but it had always escaped before they could surround it and finish the kill. They wished to know if I could kill the lion. I told them I would attempt to do so once I had escorted Lisa back to the train station in Nairobi.

Our conversation had turned to the more mundane subjects of weather and if there would be a drought this year when I heard a commotion behind me. When I turned, there was Lisa dressed in the same type of red sheet-dress worn by the Maasai women. Around her slender neck was a wide collar of beads. She grinned.