Pride of the Veld

clean, hot water. He had finally decided to help him care for the injured man. He shrugged sheepishly at Geo’s smile― they’d gotten distracted earlier while preparing to make dinner, and they’d left a large pot of water to heat in the coals.
    “See if you can get him to drink that Danie.” Geo nodded to the open bottle in Danie’s other hand. The wound was oozing dark blood from the center. It was deep enough that Geo wished they were back at the compound where his grandfather kept a fully-stocked medical suite. All he had now was a standard bush kit. He could clean the wound and stitch it up, but he didn’t have antibiotics with him. They’d have to cut their trip short and head back in the morning.
    The kit’s gauze pads were large enough to use for cleaning out the wound. Closer inspection showed dirt and debris embedded throughout the wound. This wasn’t going to be pleasant. He poured a little water into a second bowl that Danie had found for him, washing his hands with some antiseptic soap from the kit, donning a pair of purple gloves. Danie watched him silently, tearing open the blue paper coverings for him as Geo went through half their stock of pads.
    “What’s your name? Do you speak English?” Geo asked, saturating another piece of gauze in antiseptic before carefully placing it on the man’s arm, soaking the wound to loosen the dried clots of blood and dirt. Danie had settled on the man’s other side, an arm around his shoulders, helping him take small, steady sips of warm Coke.
    The voice rasped “Andrea.” Geo glanced up; the man was looking at him, pain still reflected in his hazel eyes.
    “Good, that’s good Andrea. Danie here is going to keep you still, and as soon as I finish cleaning out this wound I’m going to have to stitch it together. We’re pretty far out; otherwise I’d just wrap it and take you back now. It’ll take us a few days to work our way around the falls, maybe four altogether to get back to the compound.”
    “Yesssss…” the Italian hissed, and Geo used that moment to start scrubbing out the wound with a clean piece of gauze. “I was heading there myself.”
    “Really?” Geo turned to Danie. “We didn’t have anyone scheduled. Did we get a call from an independent?” Danie shook his head.
    “Probably an indie that wanted to keep the conservation fees for himself,” Danie replied, forcing the bottle between Andrea’s lips and waiting for him to take several sips before pouncing on him with his questions.
    “Andrea, I think it’s time to tell us why you stumbled into our campsite without food, or water, or cloth…”
    “Danie, this is not the time.”
    “Geo! Now is the time! We have no idea what sort of trouble he’s…”
    “He’s no trouble.” Geo cringed as the words left his mouth, kept his eyes on his work so he wouldn’t have to see Danie’s arched brow. But he knew Danie had a point. “Fine,” he said after a pause. “You’re right. It’s stupid not to know.” And stupid out here gets you killed , he thought.
    Danie was gracious enough to keep his mouth shut. Geo watched him staring down at Andrea, still waiting for the other man to speak.
    “My name is Andrea Conte. I’m a professional photographer, mostly wildlife and nature shots. I have a regular freelance gig with some of the better magazines… though for this trip I’m working on my own project. I’m finishing a book of photographs from each continent.
    “I’ve been on Antarctica, shooting some of the animals and birds for the last month. It went better than expected, so when I got a call from my agent, I was able to hop an early transport to Sydney and fly over here immediately.
    “She finally wrangled permission from the Christiansen Reserve to photograph the falls― I’d been trying and trying for years to get the old man to agree to it. I’d even put off shooting the lower African continent because I’d pinned everything on these birds. When permission finally came… it meant I could finish my book. My editor has been threatening to pull the contract if I wasn’t done by Christmas…” Andrea trailed off, leaning back against Danie without realizing what he was doing. Geo watched a shadow slide across Andrea’s face, speaking volumes.
    “She lied to me.”
    Geo nodded. “Yeah, she lied… or someone else did. I’m Geo Christiansen, and the ‘Old Man’ is my Grandfather, George. He only allows tourists to visit twice a year in small