MORNING GAME DRIVE.

Clare wants to see a lion and asks Jonathan to find her one. He laughs. The lion researcher, the defeated Shamus, has given us the sad statistics on the disappearing lions of Kenya.

We drive through the open plains, the tall grass disappearing under our wheels as if we are the sole people on earth. A tiny black cloud appears in the sky.

“What’s that?” asks Clare.

“Vultures,” says Jonathan pointing.

“I want to see,” says Clare.

As we draw near, we see the birds. Their wings span 8 feet and the shadows darken the ground. When they spread the tips of their wings it looks like fat fingers are tearing at the sky. They circle a spot below.

“What is it?” Clare whispers.

Without replying, Jonathan drives closer and stops. He turns to us.

“Take out your cameras now,” he says. “Once we get closer, the vultures will take off at the same time.”

He drives forward and dozens of huge birds reluctantly leave the ground with one flap of their wings.

There seems to be nothing where the buzzards were but swirling dust. Then a reddish spinal column emerges as the air clears. The ribs are stunted along the spine and completely disappear the further away they get from the column. There’s a head.

Jonathan, Pamela and Craig jump down from the jeep. Jonathan picks up the horns of the perfect head for us to see, the bloody spinal cord hanging to the ground.

“Grants gazelle,” he says. Clare and I look away.

Pamela tells Craig they should take the head back for the skull.

“In a few days, animals and ants will pick the skull clean,” she says.

Clare and I peek through our fingers. Jonathan has a machete at Pamela’s throat. Craig takes photos and everyone laughs.



I feel sick but can’t take my eyes off of the gazelle. Jonathan holds up the head with its light brown coat and black markings. Even the horns are intact. Only the hollow eyes tell you it’s dead. That and the skin of the neck hanging loose around the spine. It looks like two animals: the body eaten to nothing but bones and the head a fresh kill.

Jonathan starts hacking at the spinal column at the base of the head with the machete.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

“Ew. That’s disgusting,” says Clare. We both stand up and turn around. There is another jeep pulling up behind us. This is the big event on the game drive today. I wave and saw my hand over my neck pointing at the activity on the ground behind me.

It seems to take a long time to cut the head away from the bones that are left of the gazelle.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Pamela takes an empty box from the back of the jeep and Jonathan places the freed head into the box.

“You can’t put that in here,” says Clare.

“Ok,” says Pamela cheerfully. “We’ll put it in their jeep” and walks to the Range Rover behind ours and puts the box under the back seat.

“That was disgusting,” says Clare as Jonathan, Pamela and Craig step into our jeep and sit down.

“Do you still want to see a lion?” Pamela asks Clare.

“Yes!” says Clare.

“Be careful what you ask for,” I say.