Pride of the Veld

with it before you stitch it closed. Pack in the used tea bags― three should do, and leave it for as long as it takes for him to finish drinking the rest of the cup. Lots of sugar, but only to drink, not in the tea used as a wash. Let Danie get it. He makes a proper cup… not like you, Geo. Your gifts lie elsewhere.” Geo rolled his eyes, biting his tongue. It was an old complaint.
    “Is it the same Andrea Conte?” Danie asked.
    “Of course!” the old man scoffed. “If he wasn’t, I’d have you open up the wound and toss him out of camp for the big cats to snack on!”
    Andrea looked like he was ready to bolt, so Geo started rubbing calming circles on his chest. “Really, Oupa? You went with cats? He thinks you’re serious while I’m trying to keep him from panicking and losing more blood.”
    “That’s what the tea’s for. The tannins help coagulate blood and decrease seepage when you finally stitch it.” Geo nodded as if his grandfather could see him. Andrea tensed as Danie ducked into the tent carrying two tin cups of tea.
    Handing the one containing four tea bags to Geo, Danie broke into the conversation, settling next to the injured photographer, holding the cup to the man’s lips.
    “George,” he said and then paused, urging Andrea to drink before continuing, “we don’t have the full story yet. We found Conte making his way into our camp, pretty beat up. Conte thought he’d been picked up by one of our guides. Apparently he’s been trying to get a spot on one of the reserve’s commercial tours for a few years; when his agent sent him an email about booking the guide, he just assumed it was authentic.
    “We have a photo he took of the man, and it’s Ronson. He’s back, calling himself David Botha, but it’s definitely the same man, and he’s got a couple of rough trade working with him. He’s out here looking for something more lucrative than illegal guide fees.
    “We need to notify the authorities and send out our security detail to track them from around the falls. It’s too dangerous to let them roam loose. You know Ronson, and the last I heard of him there was a bounty pending. He won’t hesitate to fight his way free if he’s cornered. I’ll feel better getting Geo out of the area as soon as possible. He wants to get Andrea back anyway, but he’ll freak out about leaving the birds if there’s a poacher around.” Geo stopped working long enough to frown at Danie, who ignored him.
    “Frankly I couldn’t give a crap about the damn birds at this moment,” Danie ground out. “I just want Geo out of Ronson’s path; one look and that bastard will be seeing gold. There’s no mistaking he’s your blood.”
    “Fine, Swart. You take care of my grandson by whatever means necessary. Consider Conte under my protection too. I guess Geo won’t let you do anything else if he’s already mothering the lad, eh Geo?”
    “What, Oupa?” Geo called over to the phone. “I’m not mothering him. I’m doing field repairs. It’s the opposite of mothering, since I keep causing him pain.” He was irritated by the direction the conversation had taken. He wasn’t a child, and Danie’s overprotective bullshit needed to stop.
    “How’s the arm look now?” His grandfather’s tone was placating, which annoyed Geo all the more.
    “Bleeding’s stopped again, thanks. I’m about to put in a couple of deep stitches. Thank Dr. Sigurdsson for kitting us out well; he put dissolvable sutures in here. Only topical numbing cream, though. We should fix that before anyone else heads out.” Geo trailed off, biting his lower lip to stop himself from rambling on.
    “Just take the stitch. Danie will hold him down, then you’ll be done in no time. You can do it, Geo. You’re a Christiansen, and these men are your responsibility.”
    “I thought we were Danie’s,” he mocked, laughing at the irritated noise his grandfather made.
    “I pay Swart to use a rifle when he needs to. You are born of the land, Geo. Even if your father made the mistake of getting you on an American, the land of your birth doesn’t mean as much as the land of your blood, and your blood is all Afrikaner. You’ve always made me proud, but today I can’t be there. Today you are the Christiansen.”
    “Oupa!” Geo felt like he was five again. He was going to whine, but then the iron voice was back.
    “Danie, should I send the plane out?” It was obvious George Christiansen had made his point and was moving on,