Dec. 17th, 2018

aggienaut: (Numbat)

   It wouldn't know what hit it. Don watched the rhinoceros through his binoculars, it was partially obscured amongst some bushes and at extreme rifle range, but it was there, and that's what counted. It had a beautiful horn on its nose. Don thought of the money he would get for it on the black market. He thought about his buyer, a smug bastard who had thought Don would never find a rhino in this area. In his confidence he had promised a really good price. who's the sucker now?? Don thought happily to himself. Don scanned the surrounding hills, golden yellow with dry grass, doted with scrubby thorn trees and the taller acacias. No sign of rangers or anyone else. He hadn't heard any ranger radio traffic on his scanner all day so he was pretty confident they weren't around. The rhino was disappearing behind a rise. The distance was long anyway. He looked around and came up with a plan. The rhinoceros was going that way, so he'd go this way, hide in the copse of trees over there, he should have a shot.

   He walked as quickly as he could under the hot savannah sun. High overhead some vultures circled. Don't worry you'll have a meal soon he thought towards them. As he walked he reached back to his small backpack to make sure he had the axe he'd use to remove the horn. It would be a frustratingly long walk back to the landcruiser to get it if he didn't have it with him. He entered the copse of tall trees, startling several warthogs. The shade was refreshing, though it was still steamy hot, and mosquitos buzzed around in the dim protection of the trees. He hurried through the leafy grove to the edge where he hoped to see the rhino around the hill. He quietly lay down on his belly with the gun resting on a root. He took a swig of water from his flask, the water was quite warm from the heat of the day but it was better than nothing.

   Don was beginning to worry the rhinoceros had changed directions behind the rise when he noticed an itchy sensation on his arm and realized a mosquito had been sucking his blood unnoticed already. He quickly punched down on it with an open-handed slap and was satisfied by the large smear of blood that resulted. Take that mothersucker! he thought to himself. He was just thinking about getting out his mosquito netting when he noticed some movement out by the rise. Sure enough the humped white back of the rhinoceros slowly emerged like a surfacing whale. Don switched from binoculars to the rifle scope and prepared for the shot. It wouldnt' do at all to merely wing it, and also it would be quite disasterous to accidentally hit the horn itself. He waited as slowly more of the great beast emerged from the tall grass obscuring it. He calculated the distance, centered the cross-hairs just high enough above the center of mass to account for the bullet-fall, braced himself for the terrific kick his high powered rifle would punch back into his arm.

   He never knew what hit him. The lion had expertly stalked its prey, making the final attack from a branch directly above him, pouncing, plummeting silently downward, a quarter-ton of lion impacting upon the prone hunter claws-first. By the time rangers finally came to investigate the nearby abandoned landcruiser they found only a damaged rifle, an axe, some scraps of clothing, and a large smear of blood.




Dedicated to these heroic lions who recently ate some poachers

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