The Sky Witch - 1. Chapter 1 Beginnings...

“Let’s go Douw! Its morning and the hunters are in the Lapa, drinking coffee.”

I wake up with a jolt. Oh shit. I overslept.

‘I’m up! I’m up!’

My brother in law, Danny, has a long smirk on his face. “You had better hurry up, otherwise even the bottomless coffee will run out.”

“Ok, I’m up. I’ll be there in ten. Thanks bro.”

It’s been a hard week of hunting with no rain. The veldt is dry and void of life. Except for the river which is our life line in the dry winter season. Animals live near or in the reeds of the river. This is the worst drought we have experienced; a year has passed without a drop of water.

I climb off the bed, approach the mirror and gaze at my morning glory, thankful that Danny did not enter the room. Maybe I won’t be there in ten. Coffee be damned.

With a big grin on my face, I turn on the hot water.

Thirty minutes later I walk into the Lapa, a shelter made from wooden logs and a straw roof. I smile from ear to ear “good morning, gents.”

“Good morning, young man,” I cringe when Mister Denials refers to me as a young man. I do consider that our client is in his sixties and has a head dotted with enough platinum to match his beard, and wrinkles to scare away a timid Yorkshire terrier, or even an ugly pug. I restrain myself from giggling at the thought. When he places his glasses on his face, it seems they are the only thing keeping the wrinkles from covering his eyes. I do giggle. But it’s short-lived when I realize that Jimmy is not here. My gaze circles the Lapa, but I can’t find him.

“Sir, where is your son?”

“He will not be joining us this morning.”

“Oh! How come?” A tinge of disappointment melts away in my voice.

“He’s tired from the long walk yesterday. He’ll join us tomorrow.”

I force a grin, “Well, that’s good to hear.” I wish I could stay here and entertain him.

His son. In my mind I see a blonde shock of hair and the brightest smile I have ever seen. I pour myself a cup of white coffee, all the while berating myself for having a crush on the client. I know he is going to break my heart, and I know he is in all likelihood, straight, but no, I must daydream about him. A scowl takes up residence on my brow as I continue scolding myself for crushing on the hunk. I slip into a seat and another daydream of me and him in the…

“Hey! Sleepy head!” A voice shouts from behind me. I spill the coffee over the table.

“Shit!”I turn around in my seat to curse Danny, but he bursts into laughter and, not being one to stay mad for long, a giggle escapes my daydreaming stupidity.

“Morning, dumbass," I reach for a cloth to wipe the table.

“I see you have finally decided to join us.”

I nonchalantly scratch my eyebrow with my middle finger and launch into a big smile.

“Let's go, guys!” Danny announces.

***

The sun is above the horizon with the wind in my hair. After ten minutes of driving, we reach the spot where we had stumbled across the herd of buffaloes the night before; moving shadows and short grunts in the dry thickness of the African night.

The Land Cruiser rolls to a stop. Danny climbs out and hands me the video camera which had been riding in the front with him. Dust is everywhere, and the camera needs to be dust free for peak performance. I’m the best camera man, actually, I’m the best Man Friday there is. I get to do most of the work but keep my mouth shut for the sake of peace.

Our two faithful trackers, Justice and Faith, lead the way, followed by Danny, then Mister Denials. I bring up the rear with the camera.

Campfire memories flicker before me.

With drinks in hand, three hunters tell stories of hunts long past with wide, sweeping gestures. Good times. Terrible times. But one fact stands firm above all the rest. A wounded buffalo will double back on his tracks and wait, then unexpectedly ambush you from behind, and literally grind you into the dust. Lick the skin off your flesh.

Another memory flashes through my head sending shivers down my spine: The image of a woman who had been ground into dust. She and her friends made the fatal mistake of walking too close to the buffaloes in search of firewood, all the while singing and cracking jokes. A buffalo decided to charge…

I drift back to reality and discover I am falling behind and quicken my pace.

After four hours of walking we finally catch up with the buffs.

It’s midday and the sun is baking. Mister Denials is as red as a tomato, huffing and puffing like the proverbial big bad wolf.

The buffs are resting in the shade and it’s difficult to identify the old one, so we decide to take a nap until they start moving.Mister Denials rubs his abdomen. “Can’t we go back for lunch. I am famished.”

Danny is taken aback by this request, ‘I’m sorry, sir. We can’t risk leaving it here. They are heading to the border of the concession and we might lose them.”

“Ok then, me boy. I’ll tough it out then.”

I nearly burst out laughing at Danny’s facial expression, but I manage to control myself to only release a chuckle.

We settle down to rest a bit through the worst heat of the day. Mopani bees swarming around us. As small as ants and without a stinger, these critters are at their most annoying at this time of day. Rest is an impossible task when there are thousands of tiny pests trying to get at you. Swatting them makes it worse, for they release a pheromone that attracts more bees.

I hear someone slapping at the bees and a smile starts playing at my lips. One of our guides, Faith, sneaks over to the hive. How the hell he finds them dumbfounds me, and as tired as I am, I softly scramble to my feet and move to where he is busy breaking into the nest to find the sweetest honey on earth. I produce my knife and hold it out to him, knowing that I’ll get a share of that sweet nectar.

Creek creek creek. At the third attempt to break open the small hole, the stump gives way with a resounding CRACK!

Danny sits up. Scowls at us and sighs. Rolls his eyes, slides back, and replaces the bush hat on his face for protection from the bees.

A sweet reward for no work at all.I plop the first bit of honey into my mouth. It rolls over my tongue and slides down my throat effortlessly. Sighing with delight, I lay back and cover my head, relishing that sweet taste lingering in my mouth. Soon, I fall into sleep’s kind embrace.

I wake with a start as someone grabs my foot.

Reality hits me in the face. I jump up in a daze to find Danny falling over, giggling hysterically. I scowl and give him the middle finger as he rolls on the ground with laughter.

Good thing we backtracked away from the buffs or they would have busted us.

Everyone is awake now and soon we are trudging, in single file across the veldt, tracking the buffs. They too have begun to move. We approach them in a low stoop and Danny signals for me to crawl over to where he is kneeling.

“I see a big bull in there. Get your camera ready,” he whispers.

Yes! Finally no more walking for a few days.

Danny notices my sudden relief and looks at me with raised eyebrows.

Before he can say another word, a loud snort comes from behind us.

I spin around to find a buffalo cow glaring at us not twenty yards away.

She’s not looking at all pleased to see us.

She swings her head from side to side.

Snorts anger at us.

Drops her head and charges…

…Straight for me.

Two tonnes of flesh and bone is charging down on me.

They say that before death, your life flashes before your eyes.

All I see is a big hunk of death barreling down towards me…