The Mystery of the Black Rhino (7 page)

“That sounds like a great idea,” Frank said.

“Well, this will let you see some of Kenya's wildlife
up close. The park is just a few miles outside the city. It won't take very long to get there, but it'll feel the same as if you were farther out in the bush. Your mother and I loved it there.”

“When do we leave?” Joe asked.

“Kind of early,” Mr. Hardy said. “You need to be at the hotel entrance at four—
A.M.
”

The Hardy boys groaned.

“Why so early?” Frank said.

“The earlier the better. You'll get to see the animals when they come to the watering holes,” Fenton Hardy said. “Actually, you're lucky. Normally the park doesn't open until six, but right now the Kenyan government is very interested in making you two feel very welcome, given that you saved one of their aircraft and quite a few of their citizens. When I asked about a tour for you, they insisted on going all out.”

Joe yawned. “Well, I guess I can catch up on my sleep when we get back to Bayport. This may be our only trip to Africa, so we better take advantage of every opportunity.”

“True,” Frank agreed reluctantly.

“That's the spirit,” Fenton Hardy said.

•   •   •

The telephone rang the next morning at three o'clock with their wake-up call. It was accompanied by the rumbling of thunder outside their window.

Joe was surprised at how easy it was to get up. Frank had a little more trouble. But the Hardy
boys made it to the lobby by four o'clock.

Their guide was already waiting for them. He recognized them immediately and introduced himself as Robert Namanga.

Robert held up a copy of a newspaper, the
Daily Nation.
There on the front page were pictures of the Hardy boys, taken at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport.

“I've been reading about you,” Robert said. “You're two of the most famous people in Kenya now.”

Joe took the newspaper and glanced at the article. “It takes up half the front page!” he said.

Robert nodded. “Yes. It gives a very detailed account of what happened,” he said. “It also mentions why your father is here in Nairobi, and all the cases you two have solved back in Bayport. It's very interesting.”

Frank got the newspaper from Joe and took a look. “Unfortunately, it may interest the wrong people,” he whispered to Joe.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Joe said.

“Well, are you ready to see some wild game? The Land Rover is parked outside and is running,” Robert said. “If we're lucky, we'll get to see most of the park before it rains.”

“We're ready!” the Hardy boys said.

At this time of morning there was almost no traffic on the streets of Nairobi, so they made good time. They left the city center and headed out on the
Mombasa Highway—it was the same route they had used the day before, coming in from the airport.

“We'll enter at the east gate. It's less traveled and has fewer roads, but that won't matter, as this vehicle can maneuver any terrain,” Robert said. “We have special permission to go anywhere in the park.”

They were at the east gate within twenty minutes.

“This part of the park is mostly savannah. Here's where you'll see zebra, buffalo, and antelope,” Robert said. “There are also some hippos where the Mbagathi and Athi Rivers meet a little farther on.”

“That's great,” Joe said.

“Does the park have any big cats?” Frank asked.

Robert nodded. “You should be able to see the lions and cheetahs in the western part of the park,” he said. “Rhinos, too. They're mostly in the forest glades.”

“Rhinos! Now that's what I want to see!” Joe said. “Aren't they really rare?”

Robert nodded sadly. “It's a terrible situation, boys, really terrible. Poachers have almost made them extinct.”

As they headed deeper into the park, sometimes using roads, sometimes not, the Hardy boys thought about the plight of the wild animals of the world. Somehow, they knew, human beings simply had to find a way to keep all of these animals alive and in their natural habitats. It would be such a tragedy if future generations were deprived of seeing them.

Three hours into the trip, the Hardy boys had seen everything that Robert Namanga had promised. Thankfully the rain had held off. The thunder and the brilliant flashes of lightning only enhanced the experience, making it even more dramatic.

When they reached the Hippo Pool, at the confluence of the Mbagathi and Athi Rivers, the skies finally opened up. The Hardys and Robert couldn't see more than a few feet in front of them.

“We'd better just stay where we are,” Robert said. “The rivers and streams will soon be flooded, and I don't want to take a chance of driving into one of them to become crocodile food!”

“I'm with you on that,” Joe agreed.

Frank nodded, smirking.

After a couple of hours, when the rain still hadn't let up at all, Robert said, “I'm beginning to change my mind. Let's chance it. Maybe we should try to get out while we still can.”

When Robert explained that the Mbagathi and Athi might flood enough to surround them with crocodile-infested water, the Hardy boys agreed that it might be a good idea after all to see if they could get out of the park.

They had gone only a couple of miles before the Land Rover stalled and became mired in mud up to its axles. Nothing Robert could think of would free it.

“Cheetah Gate is just a few miles from here,” Robert said. “Are you boys up for the walk?”

Joe took one look at the swirling water outside the Land Rover and said, “I don't think we have a choice. It doesn't take much for rushing water to move a vehicle. It won't be long until we're floating down the Mbagathi.”

“Grab those ponchos in the back. They'll help keep us dry,” Robert said. “I've got three bottles of water in my knapsack. That'll last us a while.”

“Well, that's one thing I don't think we have to worry about,” Joe joked. “If we run out, we can just hold the bottles up to the sky!”

The three of them put on the yellow ponchos, then exited the Land Rover. From where they were standing, Frank could see nothing but water. The rain was still coming down, although not as hard as before.

“Follow me,” Robert said, “and if you see a floating log, it's probably a crocodile.”

Frank and Joe looked at each other. They were both thinking the same thing. Whatever their friends back in Bayport were doing now, they were sure it didn't include wading in water full of crocodiles.

Fortunately Robert had a good sense of direction. Soon they were mostly out of the water, and on soggy land. He stopped for a minute to survey the area around them. Suddenly he felt his pocket. “I left my cell phone in the Land Rover!” He shook his head in disgust. “Oh, well, maybe we won't need it. The road to Cheetah Gate is mostly flooded, so
we'll have to use the higher ground around it. We're south of the river, so I think we can make it to safety without having to cross any more really deep water. Some of the terrain in the Mbagathi Gorge is pretty rugged, so be careful.”

“We can handle that,” Joe assured him. “We stay in pretty good shape year-round.”

“Coach requires quite a few hours in the weight room every week,” Frank added.

For the next hour they walked in a single line, with Robert in the lead. They stopped when the rain got really heavy because they were afraid they might step off into one of the deeper ravines. The deluges only lasted for a few minutes, though, so they could continue walking safely toward Cheetah Gate.

Suddenly Robert stopped. “Quick!” he whispered. “Get down!”

They squatted behind a fringe of yellow acacia trees and looked in the direction Robert was pointing. Through the veil of light rain, they saw three men in one of the ravines. Two of the men were carrying a pole to which a cheetah had been tied by its legs. The third man was Jackson!

“Poachers. They've killed one of the cheetahs!” Robert said. “Don't they care that there are only a few left in the wild?”

“I doubt if the man in the lead cares about much of anything,” Frank said.

Robert looked at him. “Do you know him?”

Joe explained their connection to Jackson. “We had a hunch he was going to do something like this,” he said.

“We can't let them get away. We have to stop them,” Robert said. “Are you boys up to a detour?”

“You can count on us!” Frank said.

“We'd like nothing better than to put an end to what that creep's up to,” Joe added.

Once they were out from behind the yellow acacia trees, Robert and the Hardy boys had no cover. But luck was with them as they made their way down the ravine—they weren't spotted and no one slipped. They finally made it to the floor, where they took cover behind the seasonal long grass.

“Those guys up ahead are not the only enemy,” Robert whispered to them as they crouched behind the long grass. “Remember that the big feral cats often use this grass for cover while they stalk their prey.”

“We won't forget,” Joe assured him.

Slowly they started toward the three men. Now sheets of heavy rain masked their movements through the grass. As they got closer, they could
hear voices—but Frank soon realized that they weren't speaking English.

“Do you understand them?” Joe whispered to Robert.

Robert nodded. “They're speaking Swahili.”

“I knew I should have brought my Swahili phrase book,” Frank said.

Robert grinned at him. “Well, it's not exactly tourist Swahili,” he said. “Some of those words probably aren't in most dictionaries.”

“What are they saying?” Frank asked.

Robert cupped his ears and tilted his head so it would be aimed in the direction of the voices. “They're saying that this cat will bring them a lot of money,” he said.

Frank could tell by the sound of the voices that they were getting closer. He could hardly wait to see the expression on Jackson's face.

“What's the plan, Robert?” Frank asked.

Robert opened his safari jacket and took out a gun. “This is the only language that most poachers understand,” he said. “When we get close enough, we'll try to take them by surprise. If we're lucky, they'll drop the cheetah and walk ahead of us until we reach Cheetah Gate.”

Joe didn't want to admit that this plan sounded kind of weak to him. Robert was the expert in matters relating to poachers in Africa, so Joe wasn't going to suggest an alternative. Still, he knew, it
would be best to be on guard for anything that could happen.

The Hardy boys and Robert were now just a few feet behind the three men. Through the tall grass the boys could see two of the men continue to chatter away in Swahili. The magnificent cheetah swung lazily back and forth on the wooden pole that the men were carrying on their shoulders.

What a waste!
Frank thought. He visualized the cheetah racing through the bush after its prey. It would have been a wonderful sight to behold.

Suddenly Robert stopped. “I think it's time we take them,” he whispered. “They've started to turn south, which will take them out of the park. That's probably where their cohorts are waiting for them.”

“We're ready,” the Hardy boys said.

“Let's go!” Robert whispered.

With Robert in the lead, his gun aimed at the men, the three of them raced through the tall grass.

When they were right behind the last man, Robert raised his pistol in the air and fired.

The two startled Africans dropped the pole with the cheetah and ran off into the bush.

Jackson turned and blinked in disbelief. He had a bloody
panga
—a large knife—in his hand. He waved it angrily at the two fleeing men and yelled something in Swahili. The men ignored him and within seconds had disappeared into the bush.

“They probably won't stop until they're in Tanzania,” Robert said under his breath. He kept walking toward the man, his gun pointed straight at him.

Suddenly Jackson threw his knife toward Robert. Before Robert could react, the panga sliced into his side, causing him to drop the gun.

In seconds Jackson was almost upon them.

With one glance at each other, the Hardy boys had already decided what they had to do. Joe grabbed the panga, which had fallen to the ground, and Frank grabbed Robert's gun.

Robert now had a large rock in his hands. He shouted, “Get the cheetah! Take it to Cheetah Gate!” right before Jackson slammed into his body. Jackson fell to the ground and looked like he was out cold.

Joe grabbed one end of the pole, and Frank grabbed the other. They started running.

Adrenaline carried them the first hundred yards. When they finally looked back, they saw Robert trying to get up. When Robert saw them looking, he motioned for them to go on.

“I hate to leave him here,” Frank said. “I know that panga cut him.”

“He just wants to make sure the poachers don't get this cheetah,” Joe said. “Even though it's dead, they won't have the satisfaction of selling the skin to some unscrupulous buyer.”

The Hardy boys started up the slope of the ravine. When they reached the top, they again stopped to
look down to the forest floor. Robert was moving slowly, bent over and holding his side. He had made some progress in their direction. Behind him, Jackson was still on the ground, also moving slowly.

“Change of plans,” Frank said. “I say we wait for Robert.”

“Yeah. It just occurred to me that once we reach the top of the ravine, I'll have no idea of where to go,” Joe said.

When Robert was almost to the top of the ravine, he saw the Hardy boys waiting for him. Initially he was clearly angry, but his anger soon dissipated, and a smile appeared on his face.