The Boy and the Poacher's Moon. Pamela Newham
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the WILD2SAVE bus and Schalk’s large blue 4 x 4. He and Schalk walked towards the bakkie.
Billy watched as two rangers in SANParks uniforms got out of the bakkie. Karel’s brother, Piet, didn’t look much like him. He was thinner and taller. Thandi was also tall, with braids tied back in a ponytail. Billy thought she looked like someone who would be good at athletics.
Piet said something to Karel and Schalk, and by the expressions on their faces, Billy could see something was wrong. Deep in discussion, they started to walk towards the veranda.
Bokkie twitched her nose and called out, “What’s the problem?”
Schalk looked up. “It’s bad news. Another rhino. A cow close to Pretoriuskop.”
Bokkie put her hands over her mouth and gasped. “Oh no! That is terrible. I’m so sorry.” She hurried towards them and gave Thandi a quick hug.
Piet nodded towards Billy and the others. “Hi.” He pulled off his cap and wiped his forehead. “It’s the full moon. That’s the problem. The poacher’s moon, they call it. While it’s at its brightest, it makes it easier for them to track the rhinos.”
Karel put his hand on his brother’s shoulder, and Billy heard Schalk mutter, “Bliksems.”
Piet shook his head. “Well, I must be off. There’s an important anti-poaching meeting in Mbombela today, so I need to waai.”
Thandi slung a small backpack over her shoulder and turned to Piet. “Thanks for the lift. See you later.”
Piet started to walk towards the bakkie then stopped and turned around.
“We’re going to get them. This is one war we will win. It’s just a matter of time. No question about that.” He pulled his cap back on and climbed into the bakkie. As he tore off back down the driveway, Billy wondered if he really felt as confident as he sounded.
5
Billy gazed out of the bus window. Normally, he’d have enjoyed looking at the bushveld scenery and the many small villages they passed. But now, all he could think about was the dead rhino. And what Thandi had been telling them since they’d set off from the farm.
The mood in the bus had changed. Vusi had stopped his jokes and chatter, and Surina had put away her phone. It had been Vusi who had asked Thandi if she knew how many rhino had been poached in Kruger so far that year.
Thandi, who was sitting next to Jabu, sighed. “Yes, we do have statistics, and they’re pretty bad. In the first eight months of this year, poachers have already killed over six hundred rhinos. Who knows what the total will be by the end of the year.”
“That many!” Surina’s eyes had grown huge.
“And you heard Piet say it’s always worse when the moon is full. I’m willing to bet that last night, there were thirty or more groups of poachers, all heavily armed, in different areas of the park. And that tonight will be the same.” She paused. “Someone once described the Kruger Park as a huge supermarket for poachers.”
Surina asked, “But what makes them do it? It must be really dangerous coming into the reserve. Walking through it at night.”
Thandi nodded. “Extremely dangerous. Some poachers have been killed by lions and other animals. And they know they are constantly being tracked by our rangers. It’s all about money, of course. They say that for the people involved, the word ‘poaching’ means money and the word ‘rhino’ means nothing.”
“What kind of money are we talking about?” Billy asked.
“Well, let’s put it this way – horns sold on the black market are worth more per kilogramme than gold or platinum,” Thandi said.
Vusi whistled. “It’s mostly sold in the East – China, places like that, isn’t it? But what I don’t understand is how rhino horn can be so valuable. I mean, it’s just bone.”
“No,” said Jabu before Thandi had a chance to answer. “People think that it’s bone, but it’s not.” She picked up the wildlife magazine she’d had her nose in the entire trip. “It says here that horn’s made of a protein called keratin. Actually, that’s the same protein that makes up our hair and fingernails.”
Jabu tapped the magazine with her finger for emphasis and added, “It also says here that the horn smells so strongly that poachers have to try to mask the smell to get it past officials.”
“Yes,” Thandi nodded. “These days, most of the horns end up in Vietnam, where they are used as medicine. People believe they cure cancer and a whole lot of other diseases.”
Surina asked, “Do they?”
Thandi shook her head. “There has been research done, but so far, there’s no evidence that they cure anything.”
After that, they had all been quiet. Suddenly, rhino poaching seemed a lot more real, thought Billy.
Out of the bus window, he saw a raptor – maybe a snake eagle – swoop over the veld in a lazy circle. It was always difficult to be sure what type of raptor you were looking at, Billy thought.
He was still angry with himself. He shouldn’t have got rattled when Vusi had teased him earlier about only ever having seen wild animals on TV. The truth was that Billy knew a great deal about nature and wildlife. And he’d learnt it first hand from climbing mountains in and around Cape Town and going on long hikes with his Uncle Raymond. He should have told Vusi that. Stood up for himself.
Billy closed his eyes and thought about his uncle. He knew how lucky he was to have Uncle Raymond in his life. After his dad had died in a car crash when he was four, his mother’s brother had taken Billy under his wing. He was the one who had bought Billy books about nature. He’d taught him about the many types of fynbos and how to identify the birds and insects they came across on their hikes.
He had also been the one who’d encouraged Billy to enter the WILD2SAVE Eco Competition. And he had been the one who had spent hours helping him prepare for the quizzes and the essay he had had to write.
Earlier at the airport, when Billy’s flight had been called, Uncle Raymond had squeezed his shoulder and said, “I envy you, Billy. I really do. I’ve always wanted to go to the Kruger Park. You must make sure you take plenty of pictures, hey.”
Billy had nodded. When the time arrived to board the plane, he had suddenly felt really nervous.
His mother had been poking around in her handbag. “I baked some of my coconut cookies for you in case you get hungry,” she had said. “Don’t go spending your money if you don’t have to.”
Billy had nodded and quickly shoved the packet into the side pocket of his backpack. Then he had given his mother a kiss on the cheek and swallowed hard when he saw her eyes fill with tears. “No man, Ma. I’m not going forever. It’s just the weekend.”
Billy felt the sun on his face. He opened his eyes. They were passing a farm stall. A handwritten sign said “ORANGES, ICE, AVOS”. A small boy waved, and Billy waved back.
He really wanted to win that bursary. More than anything. He knew his ma couldn’t afford to send him to university, so it was up to him. She had been so proud when he had ended up the overall winner in the Western Cape. It wasn’t often good things happened in his ma’s life. And Billy knew how much she worried about him. It was the gangs that concerned her the most. She had seen how many of the boys in their neighbourhood had had their lives destroyed by the gangs. By the drug tik. But Billy knew that wasn’t going to happen to him. He might be shy, but he did know how to stand up for himself. Most of the time.
He reached down and pulled a packet out of his backpack.
“Anyone want a snack?” he asked. “Try one of these. My mother bakes the best coconut cookies in the whole of Cape Town.”
6
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