The Pursuit of the Ivory Poachers (5 page)

“Hello!” The man waved to Jack from his perch inside the balloon. Jack thought he sounded English.

“Hello!” he shouted again. His arms were flapping wildly as he tried to get control of the flying balloon. “I'm not very good with this thing!” he yelled as the balloon jolted up and down in the sky.

“I say,” the man said. “Is your name Jack?”

Jack took a quick look around. Since there wasn't anyone for miles, he figured it was all right to say his name out loud.

“Yes!” he shouted back.

“Jolly good!” the man replied. “I'd hate to have flown all this way to find out your name was Frank!” At this silly joke, the man started roaring with laughter.

Jack watched the man try to steer the balloon to just above where he was standing. With a pull of a cord, he slowly
lowered the craft. But instead of landing gently, the balloon's basket hit the ground and tipped over sideways.

“Ahhh!” the man screamed, tumbling out onto the dry grass.

“Are you OK?” asked Jack as he moved quickly to help the man. He was trying not to laugh, but the whole thing was
very
funny.

“Absolutely!” said the man, jumping to a standing position. He straightened his hat, quickly brushing the dirt from his trousers. “Just a bit more practice and I'll have this balloon-thing cracked!” he said.

“Where are my manners?” he exclaimed. “Trevor Dimbleby.” He thrust out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Trevor,” said Jack, shaking the pilot's hand. “What seems to be the problem?” he asked, anxious to hear the reason for his mission.

“Chief Abasi is the one who sent for you,” said Trevor. “He's the one with the problem.”

“Chief Abasi?” asked Jack, curious to know who he was.

“Chief Abasi,” Trevor explained, “is the chief of the local Maasai. He controls the bit of the Maasai Mara where my boss and I run a safari lodge.”

Jack knew that the Maasai Mara was one of the biggest safari parks in Kenya and that the Maasai were a group of tribal people who lived off the land.

“Why don't we get a move on?” said Trevor, glancing at his watch. “It's two o'clock and I told the chief that I'd have you back in half an hour.”

“Sure thing,” said Jack. “But how are we getting there?”

Trevor paused and smiled. Jack looked at the balloon.

“You're joking,” said Jack, not entirely confident with Trevor's piloting skills.

“Don't be a scaredy-cat,” said Trevor as he started walking towards the craft. “I'm pretty much of an expert in that thing!”

Knowing that he had a few gadgets to help him out, Jack joined Trevor. Trevor was adjusting the temperature of the air, so the balloon could lift off the ground.

“Climb in!” he said to Jack.

Jack grabbed the edge of the basket and pulled himself over the side. He found a space next to the propane gas tanks and watched as Trevor yanked on a
lever. A huge plume of flaming hot air shot up above Jack's head and they started to take off. Trevor tugged on the control again and the balloon began to rise even higher.

As they climbed into the sky, they caught a current of wind. The balloon flew upwards and to the east, taking Jack and Trevor to Chief Abasi and the mission ahead.

After about twenty minutes, Trevor nudged him and pointed to something on the ground. “See that homestead over there?” he said. “That's where we're heading.”

Jack lifted his Google Goggles once again, and surveyed the area around the village. There were five small homes made out of mud, a few small buildings, and three fenced-off pens for keeping cattle. Children were playing games, while the women were tending to chores. The entire
homestead was surrounded by a thorny fence. It looked quiet and calm; not the kind of place that needed the services of an international secret agent.

When they were close enough, Trevor pulled a string to open the parachute valve. The parachute valve was on top of the balloon. It worked to let the hot air out, so the balloon would drop slowly to the ground. This time when the basket hit the earth, it did so gently. As it tipped over, Jack rolled himself out and Trevor followed him.

“So, where to now?” asked Jack, standing up.

“Over there,” said Trevor, pointing to the gate. “Why don't you go ahead? I need to stay here and pack up the balloon.”

As Jack walked through the gate and into the enclosure, he saw an African man coming out of one of the huts. He was
wearing a red Maasai cloth around his shoulders, and some ornamental beads hung from his head and neck. With the use of a wooden walking stick, he slowly made his way over to Jack. Figuring this was Chief Abasi, Jack extended his hand to greet him.

“
Jambo
,” said Jack. Jack knew that ‘
jambo
' meant hello in Swahili. “
Jina langu ni
Jack Stalwart.”

The chief broke into an enormous smile. He was obviously pleased at Jack's attempt to speak the Kenyan language.

Although the Maasai had a language of their own, the man understood enough of what Jack said to respond.

“Welcome,” he said, “to my homestead and to my country. I am honored that you have come.” Jack was impressed by Chief Abasi's English. He was obviously a well-educated man.

Before Jack could ask, the man got to the point. “The reason I have called for you is that I have discovered a great problem on the Mara.”

“What's wrong?” Jack asked. He was wondering what could be so bad in such a peaceful place.

“Why don't we take a walk?” he said, motioning for Jack to follow him out of the homestead. “Walking helps to clear my head,” he added.

Jack paused, slightly confused. “OK,” said Jack, guessing that whatever the chief had to show him was on the walk.

“Why don't you lead the way?”

The chief used his walking stick to swing round and made his way over to the gate. When Jack reached the gate, he glanced over at Trevor, who was busy chatting on his cell phone. It sounded
like he was speaking in Swahili. Spying Jack, Trevor stopped talking and waved. Jack waved back, too. Then he picked up his pace and followed Chief Abasi, who was already ten paces ahead.

They were only minutes from the camp when Chief Abasi started to talk. “I am a great admirer of the GPF,” he said. “I have been following the organization's work.” The chief picked up his staff and stuck it into the ground.

Even though he lived in the middle of the African plain, Jack was amazed that Chief Abasi knew about the GPF. “How do you know about us?” asked Jack.

“I have my sources,” he replied.

“Despite our simple way of living, I manage to stay on top of world events. Do you have any family?” he asked. Jack was surprised by the sudden change in conversation.

Jack paused for a moment, thinking about home. “I do,” he said. “My mum, my dad, and my brother, Max.”

“How old is Max?” said the chief.

“He's eleven,” said Jack. In fact, his twelfth birthday was coming up. Jack thought about how happy he'd be if he could find Max and bring him home in time for his birthday celebration.

“So, where are we going?” asked Jack, deciding it was best to change the subject away from Max.

“I wanted to take you to the site of the problem, so you could see it with your own eyes,” said the chief. He continued to walk ahead through the tall, dry grass. Just to the left, Jack could see eight
elephants making their way across the savannah together.

Jack glanced at the temperature on his Watch Phone. It was 90°F. Feeling thirsty, he reached into the front pouch of his Book Bag and plucked out a clear plastic tube. Popping open the top, he shook out two pills and placed them onto the tip of his tongue. Within seconds, they dissolved into a concentrated burst of cool water. Instantly, Jack felt refreshed. These were the GPF's Hydro Pills – the only way a secret agent could stay hydrated in conditions like this.