Tucker nodded. “You call it.”
“Understand, if they do not bolt, they will charge.”
“I’m ready.”
Anya said, “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Swallow it,” he warned.
Christopher turned to face the lioness to the left flank; Tucker did the same to the right. Kane stayed put, his gaze fixed to the beast in the center.
“Fire!”
Tucker lifted his rifle, propped the butt against his shoulder, and blasted over the lioness’s head. She jumped, then dropped low and slunk away, back through the line of scrub bushes. Christopher’s did the same as he fired.
The big lioness never budged, holding her ground as the others retreated. She stared at Kane for a few more seconds, let out another huffing grunt, then turned and walked after the other two. With a final backward glance, she disappeared from view.
Christopher wasted no time in leading them off. After putting a few hundred yards between them and the lionesses, they stopped for a water break under a rock ledge. Kane sat comfortably in the shade as though nothing unusual had happened.
No one spoke for a few minutes, then Anya said, “I’ve never been so terrified in my life. The look in those eyes . . . we were simply meat to them.”
“Essentially, yes,” Christopher said.
“I am not even sure I understand what happened.”
“Lions are to be feared, but they are not stupid. Given a choice between ambushing easy prey or engaging in a fight, they will always choose the former. It is a simple matter of practicality. An injured lion is a weak lion. Tucker’s dog was simply reminding them of that point. Plus it is just past the main rutting period, so plenty of young animals are around. They have abundant food. If prey had been scarce, our encounter back there would have ended badly.”
4:45 P.M.
Rehydrated and with nerves calmed, the group headed out again.
After another twenty minutes, Christopher stopped and pointed into the hills. “The ruins of Klipkoppie fort are over that ridge. Now we climb a bit.”
“How far?” asked Anya.
“Half a kilometer. As we go, stomp your feet occasionally so we do not surprise any snakes.”
Christopher led them up a shallow gully awash with boulders, scrub brush, and the occasional tree. The trees had wide trunks that narrowed to a cluster of leafless branches that ended in single star-shaped buds.
“Looks like broccoli,” Anya said.
“Kokerboom,” Christopher called over his shoulder. “Also called Quiver trees. The San people use the hollow branches as arrows.”
As the gully grew narrower, it eventually required hopping from boulder to boulder to continue the steep ascent. A few spots required Tucker to haul Kane up or assist Anya. Finally, clawing their way up the last few yards, they reached a half-crescent-shaped plateau overlooking Springbok.
They were all breathing heavily, gulping water, sweating.
“What a view,” said Anya, leaning over the edge.
A sheer cliff dropped away at her toes. Behind them climbed a steep-walled granite dome. Across the plateau, the stubbed ends of timbered pillars stuck up out of the ground. More sprouted across the curve of the dome.
Squinting his eyes, Tucker could almost make out the bases of old fortifications and the foundations of long-lost buildings.
“This is the Klipkoppie,” Christopher announced.
“Not much left of it,” he said.
“No. Time and erosion have done their job. A hundred twenty years ago, this was a massive fort. The watchtower sat atop the dome. From here, Boer soldiers could see the entire valley below. The only access was up that narrow ravine we climbed.”
“A natural choke point.”
“Exactly so.”
Tucker began to wander into the ruins, but a shout from Christopher halted him.
“Step carefully! This plateau is riddled with tunnels and old cellars.”
“Here?” Anya asked. “This looks like solid rock.”
Tucker knelt and probed the earth with his fingers. “Sandstone. Definitely workable. But it would’ve taken hard labor and patience to excavate here.”
Christopher nodded. “Two qualities the Boers were known for. The entrances are covered by old planks—probably very fragile by now. Below us are sleeping quarters and storage areas.”
Tucker called to Kane, who had wandered off to explore. “COME.”
The shepherd galloped over and skidded to a stop.
Kneeling, Tucker opened his canteen and filled his cupped hand. He rubbed the water over Kane’s snout and under his chin. He held his damp palm to his nose. “SEEK. EASY STEP.”
Nose to the ground, Kane padded off, following the edge of the plateau.
“What’s he doing?” asked Anya.
“Setting up a search parameter.”
Kane began working inward, crisscrossing the dirt with his nose to the ground. Occasionally he would stop suddenly and circle left or right before resuming course.
“Tunnel openings,” Tucker explained to Anya and Christopher.
“Remarkable,” Christopher murmured.
Kane suddenly stopped a quarter of the way across the plateau. He circled one spot, sniffing hard, stirring up dust eddies with his breath. Finally, he lay down and shifted around to face Tucker.
“He smells moisture there.”
The trio worked cautiously toward him. Christopher led the way, thumping his walking stick against the ground, testing each step.
Once they reached Kane, Tucker gave his partner a two-handed neck massage. “Atta boy.”
Christopher lifted his walking stick and drove the butt of it hard into the dirt, at the spot where Kane had been so vigorously sniffing.
There came a dull thunk.
“Impressive beast of yours!” Christopher said.
Unfolding the small spades in their packs, the trio dug and swept away the packed dirt until a square of planking was exposed. It looked like a trapdoor into the earth. Luckily, the rough-hewn wood was rotted, desiccated by a century of heat. Jamming their spades into crannies and splits, they slowly pried the planks free and set them aside, exposing a dark shaft, about a yard across.
Lying on his belly, Tucker pointed his flashlight down the throat of the tunnel. Kane crouched next to him, panting, sniffing at the hole.
“Looks to drop about eight feet,” he said, rising to his knees. “Then it branches off to the left.”
“Who goes first?” Anya asked.
As if understanding her, Kane gained his feet and danced around the hole, his tail whipping fast. He looked up at Tucker, then down at the shaft.