Tucker now appreciated the protruding cliff itself somewhat resembled a pig’s flattened snout—with the twin canyons forming its tusks.
Still, Tucker understood the doctor’s disenchantment. Somewhere buried in the back of his own head, he’d been picturing a magnificent granite boar’s skull spewing a glittering stream of water between its tusks, spilling its bounty into a roiling pool surrounded by blooming desert flowers.
The reality was much more mundane.
Yet still just as dangerous.
Tucker urged them to grab their packs and get moving again. He pointed to the two canyons in the rock face. “While we still have daylight, we should check both sides. Doctor Bukolov with me. Anya with Christopher. Everyone stay on the radio. Questions?”
There were none.
With Kane at his heels, Tucker and Bukolov headed for the ravine on the right. The other pair aimed for the cleft on the left.
Tucker hiked into the gorge first, trailed by Bukolov. It was about eight or nine feet wide, filled with sand and loose rock.
“How are we going to find water in here?” Bukolov asked.
“Kane.”
The shepherd pushed to his side. Dropping to a knee, Tucker tipped his canteen over his cupped palm and brought the water to Kane’s nose.
“SEEK.”
Kane turned away, his nose sniffing high.
You did it before, my friend. Do it again.
As if reading his mind, Kane looked up at Tucker and sprinted away, deeper down the ravine.
“He’s onto something. C’mon.”
The two men followed the shepherd, going slower, having to pick themselves over rubble and around boulders. They discovered Kane squatted before a section of rock wall on the left. When Tucker appeared, Kane let out a single bark. The dog jumped up, planting his front paws against the wall.
“Does that mean he’s found something?” Bukolov asked.
“Let’s find out.”
Tucker shrugged off his pack—then pulled out and unfolded a small shovel. Crossing to the wall, he jammed in the spade’s tip and gouged out a chunk of sandstone. He kept digging until he’d chipped a hole about six inches deep. It took some time and effort—but he was rewarded when he noted the change in color of the stone. Reaching in, he fingered some of the darker reddish-brown sand. The granules clung together a bit.
“It’s damp back here.”
“What does that mean?” Bukolov asked.
He placed his hand on the wall. “There must be a source of water somewhere behind here.”
“Like a cave.”
“Maybe.”
Bukolov frowned. “But this wall is clearly not De Klerk’s waterfall.”
“No. But there is a water source close by here.” He patted his dog’s side. “Good boy, Kane.”
The shepherd resisted his praise. He sniffed at Tucker’s sandy fingertips, barked three times rapidly, then jumped back on the wall.
“Shh!” Tucker said.
Kane obeyed, going silent, but he stayed with his forepaws braced on the rock face, his nose pointed up.
What are you trying to tell me?
Tucker backed away from the cliff face, shaded his eyes with a hand, and looked up.
From behind them, Christopher called, “What’s happening?”
Anya was with him. “Our canyon came to a dead end. Then we heard the barking.”
As they closed the distance, Christopher clearly hobbled on his left leg. “Twisted my ankle on some loose shale,” he explained. “Hurts but I’m fine.”
Anya stared over at Kane. “What’s he found?”
“I don’t—”
Then he understood.
Craning his neck, he continued down the ravine. He soon discovered what he was looking for: a jumble of boulders piled against the left side of the gorge.
“I should be able to climb that.”
“Why? What the devil is going on?” Bukolov asked, dragging everyone with him.
Tucker faced them. “I’m climbing up. Something on top of the plateau has Kane all hot and bothered.”
“Then I’m coming, too,” Anya said.
He eyed her cast.
“I can manage. If I could climb to the top of Klipkoppie fort, I can scale this.”
Christopher hung back, plainly compromised by his leg.
“Stay with Doctor Bukolov,” Tucker instructed him. “We’ll scout it out first.”
Not knowing what was up there, Tucker wanted an extra set of eyes and ears. Bending down, he hauled Kane over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry and started up the steps. It was a precarious climb in spots, but they reached the top.
Boulders littered the summit, a veritable broken maze. They had succeeded in mounting the section of cliff between the two tusk-shaped canyons. To their right, the plateau ended at the pig’s snout. To the left, a pair of higher plateaus abutted against this one, like the raised shoulders of a monstrous beast.
“We’re standing atop the Boar’s Head,” he realized aloud.
It had to be significant.
Tucker returned Kane to his feet with the instruction “SEEK.”
Without hesitation, the shepherd sprinted in the direction of the taller mesas, dodging around boulders. Tucker and Anya followed, and after a few twists and turns, they found Kane sitting beside a pool of water. On the far side, a sparkling cascade poured into it, flowing along a series of cataracts from the neighboring, higher lands.
His tail wagged happily, as if to say: This is what I was talking about.
“What on earth . . .” Anya whispered and stared at the dancing flow of water over rock. “Is that De Klerk’s waterfall? If so, where’s the cave?”
“I don’t know.”
Tucker took a moment to orient himself. Something was wrong with this picture. The pool next to Kane was kidney shaped, about twenty feet across. He stared at the stream flowing into it—as it likely had all season long. The pool seemed too tiny to capture all that flow.
So why hasn’t this pool overflowed by now?
Then he knew the answer.
36
March 21, 4:38 P.M.
Groot Karas Mountains, Namibia
Tucker knelt at the pool’s edge with Kane. With his head cocked to the side, he stared across the surface, watching the gentle ruffle of ripples spread outward from the cascade on the far side.
“What are you looking for?” Anya asked.
“There!” He pointed near the center of the pond, where the flow of ripples slightly churned in on themselves. “See that swirl.”
“Yes, I see it, but what does it mean?”