text: [Themes: modern]
  
  "I think I'll take my chances on my own!" You yell back.
  
  Eddie nods. "Sounds good! Where do you wanna be dropped off?"
  
  You glance through the windshield and stare forward at the grassy plain stretching out in front of you in an effort to look for a good spot to begin your hunt. There are a few trees scattered around the plain, and a large cluster of boulders ahead would make an ideal lookout for game.
  
  "Right up there." You say, pointing a finger.
  
  Eddie bobs his head in another nod, and the rim of his baseball cap slides down over his eyes. "Sounds good. I'll drop you here and continue on a bit further to our rendezvous site. Make sure you've got it tagged on your GPS."
  
  You check, and at Eddie's request, re-check the coordinates you have marked on your GPS, as well as on the map that is folded and tucked into your breast pocket. Then Eddie brings the jeep to a lurching halt, stirring up dust. You hop out of the jeep and sling your hunting rifle over one shoulder, and your pack over the other, checking once more that your handgun is secured in its belt holster. You cough loudly to clear dust from your throat before saying to Eddie, "Good luck."
  
  "Likewise."
  
  The jeep starts again and trundles off through the tall dry grass, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. You allow for a brief moment of celebration, and then it's down to business. Searching for tracks seems to be a good start, so you begin surveying the ground around you.
  
  If there were any tracks, the chances of them surviving after the jeep came through was dismal. After spraying yourself with scent-cover, you hoist your gun higher on your shoulder to a more comfortable position. There are several routes available for you to take. Going further south would mean you could possibly run into Eddie, and you have no desire to come across his trail when he is on the hunt. With that thought in mind, you can also go to your left, which is west of the boulders, or you can choose to go around them to the east. To the west you can see small rolling hills. You turn your head to the right and peer around the boulder by which you are standing, and you get a glimpse of a darker splotch in the distance that could mean a group of trees. You know game stays in the shade during the day.
  
  > go East
  You set off around the boulders toward the dark line, listening to the sounds of insects chirruping in the tall grass. The going is mildly easy, seeing as there are few hills to climb. Your energetic stride is quickly carrying you toward the trees, and a gentle breeze brings cool morning air swirling around your face. It is easy to forget to be on the lookout for predators. You stride carelessly beneath an acacia tree, not even thinking there was the chance a leopard could have dropped down on you and gained an easy meal. Silence drapes the savanna like a stifling blanket.
  
  You reach the trees at least half an hour later, and lean against one of the spindly trunks to catch your breath. Then you crouch down near the ground and edge forward, sliding your rifle off of your arm. Your finger remains poised and prepared near the trigger.
  
  The trees aren't terribly close to one another, so you'll have to rely on the tall grass to conceal your position. You inch steadily forward, placing each foot down lightly, afraid to even breathe for fear something will hear you. Then the sound of hoof-falls halts your breathing entirely.
  
  A large tannish-gray antelope with white legs steps into the sunlight. A black stripe runs from its chin, down its neck, along the bottom of its flanks and then onto its hind legs. You recognize it from the hunting catalogs, but you never thought you would ever see one this close. The gemsbok's horns are long and straight, at least thirty-five inches in length, and they taper to a dangerous point. You recognize it as a male, since the females' horns have more curvature. This may present a problem.
  
  The gemsbok hasn't seen you yet, but you know they're territorial animals. Those horns have been known to impale attacking lions in defense of young, and they are used in challenges against rival males. You continue to hold your breath, but eventually you are forced to take in a small amount of air through your nose. The gemsbok snorts irritably and paws a hoof at the ground. You're almost certain it can smell you.
  
  The antelope shakes its head and yawns, then trots out of your sight, though you can still hear its hooves against the hard ground as it withdraws. You breathe a sigh of overwhelming relief, feeling your heart pounding in your ears. It takes a moment to compose yourself, especially when you realize how close you came to becoming a human shish kabob. Then you get slowly to your feet and move along. You notice fresh animal droppings in the grass, and beside those a pile of drier feces, which appear to have a similar origin with the newer ones. Either the same antelope came through here earlier, or another one, perhaps a mate, came along beforehand in the morning hours.
  
  You set out again, this time keeping a wary eye out for signs of animals. You begin to notice more evidence, including a partial set of cloven hoof-prints in the dirt, even a few places where the gemsbok must have grazed prior to his entry into the trees. Chances are he had been resting in the shade just before you arrived.
  
  You've emerged out onto the open savanna again, and the sun has climbed higher into the sky, though the morning is still young. Up ahead you can see a place where the ground dips down sharply, making it impossible for you to see what is below. You walk forward a few more paces, and then return to a crouching position. When you reach the edge of the ridge, now crawling army style on your stomach, you can hardly believe your luck.
  
  A watering hole sits at the bottom. It's larger than you would have expected, at least twice the size of a public swimming pool, the edges of which are lined with darker mud. The mud is pockmarked with the occasional hoof-print from animals that have stopped off at this location to refresh themselves. Maybe it's a good place to set up shop, you think, and you locate a bunch of bushes and settle down amidst the sparse undergrowth.
  
  You take a small drink from the canteen in your pack, and refrain from the urge to tear open a package of jerky. The scent might make animals wary to approach, as well as make them aware of your presence in the bushes. You've positioned yourself in a prime spot, so as to have a clear view of the watering hole, and hopefully providing a clear shot at any visitors.
  
  A few animals stagger in to take a drink, including a trio of wildebeest with an older calf. Still, nothing of interest has come yet, and you're starting to feel restless. The prospect of taking a rhinoceros or elephant keeps your eyes on the water, but after a while boredom has set in. Maybe the animals never come for water during midday, you think in an attempt at reassuring yourself, but you have to admit that you're not getting anything done like this.
  
  You step out of the bushes and set off toward the camp, thinking maybe you'll find something worthwhile on the way there, but still, you see nothing but a small caracal cat, and unfortunately you have no tag to justify shooting it. Besides, the gun you brought is meant to take down larger game such as big cats, and if you try a shot at this house kitty, you may end up reducing your target to scraps. So you continue walking, checking your compass and GPS every so often to ensure you're still on the right path. It's a lot further away than you realized.
  
  When you finally stagger into camp, you see Eddie sitting on the ground, cleaning his gun. The sun is nearly finished with its descent, it's rim is barely touching the horizon. You slump down beside Eddie and he grins brightly.
  
  "No luck, huh?" He wonders, and you shake your head with half closed eyes. He continues. "Same here. There's a chance more animals will be out at night. Whaddaya think? You up to taking a little night hunt?"
  
  > Two Days Later
  It's been two days, and you still haven't had any luck whatsoever. You've decided to begin your hunt in the early morning, and as you glance at the dark sky, you can't help thinking this entire trip might have been a waste of time and money.
  
  You convinced Eddie to move your camp farther south. As you shoulder your rifle, ready to plunge into another day full of hiking and spotting, you utter a silent prayer that you'll find something, even if it is just a zebra. You told everyone back home that you wouldn't come home empty handed. Well, it had seemed like an achievable goal before you'd gotten on the plane to Africa.
  
  Eddie seems cheery as ever as you clamber into the jeep and drive out of camp. You hope that maybe his good mood might rub off on you during your hunt. You've decided that the chances of you getting anything are extremely narrow, that way if you happen to get something you'll be pleasantly surprised, and if you don't then you at least won't be disappointed.
  
  You grip the dashboard with white knuckles as Eddie rolls the jeep over a particularly large bump; the protein bar you ate before you left churns disagreeably in your stomach. Maybe, you think as you hold you nauseated abdomen, I'll get the stomach bug and Eddie'll have to take me home early. Eddie hasn't seemed to notice your discomfort so you grit your teeth and stare out at the passing terrain, feeling slightly green and completely opposite of the way you were feeling during your first day on the savanna.
  
  Eddie drives the jeep beneath a canopy of acacia trees. The shade is a nice contrast to the heat of the early sun. You're just starting to close your eyes in a state of relaxation when something heavy and mottled drops down from one of the trees into the back seat of your jeep. You turn around to see a leopard, looking slightly stunned from dropping into a moving vehicle, but looking hungry just the same.
  
  Eddie's still driving, but he looks panic stricken and you're coming close to screaming yourself. What are you supposed to do?
  
  > stomp on the Brakes
  "The brakes!" You find yourself screaming at Eddie. "Use the brakes!"
  
  Eddie slams both feet down on the brakes, and the leopard emits a startled howl as it flops head over heels right onto your lap. You scream out loud just before the cat rakes a paw across your cheek. You taste blood trickling between your lips from where its claws have broken the skin. Then you scrabble madly for the handgun in your belt.
  
  You aim at its forehead and squeeze the trigger. The leopard yowls and then goes silent as his brain is blown to smithereens by the point-blank shot. You shove the mangled carcass out of the jeep and Eddie continues driving.
  
  "Might wanna take care of that cut!" Eddie points out.
  
  You dig around in the backseat until you come up with the first-aid kit, and you tear open a package of gauze, holding the dressing against your bleeding cheek. The scratch wasn't too deep; the claws must have only grazed the skin, but it was enough to make you bleed. You keep up the pressure until the bleeding stops, and then apply antibiotic ointment onto the scratches before re-covering them. By now Eddie has brought the jeep to a full stop and you grab your gun from the backseat and hop out.
  
  > Continue
  Eddie hurries around the jeep to join you, and you grip your gun resolutely. With that, you move off out of the trees and toward the savanna, hiking earnestly. Maybe Eddie's mood really is rubbing off on you. He's still smiling, considering the close encounter you both just had with that unexpected visitor who decided to drop in. "We'll find something." He says as though he read your thoughts. "I can feel it. We're gonna find something."
  
  "I sure hope so." You say back.
  
  Eddie starts humming a song under his breath as he checks his gun. You feel a bit happier, and a bit more hopeful. You stay in the taller grass to avoid being seen by game, and both you and Eddie keep your eyes peeled for anything. Suddenly you go stock-still.
  
  Something large and round is ambling through the grass. You stand up a little straighter and immediately beckon Eddie to do the same. "Wow!" Eddie gasps.
  
  The hippopotamus looks just like the ones from the Disney movies: huge and barrel-shaped with stubby legs. You're confused for a moment, and cast your eyes around until you catch sight of the small lake nearly fifty yards from your position. You shift slightly and notice the sound of something squelching beneath the trodden grass, and wonder why you hadn't noticed it earlier. Now you think of it, seeing a hippopotamus isn't such a surprise anymore. But aside from your excitement you also feel suddenly anxious. Hippopotamuses aren't territorial on land, unless they're close to water. You once heard that they come out to feed at dusk and then make their way back to their water in the early morning.
  
  Suddenly you hear something splash loudly, and you turn around to see Eddie cursing. One of his legs is sunk into the mire up to his knee. You motion for him to shut up whilst trying to tug him out of the mud, but the hippo has already heard the commotion.
  
  You'd never think a hippo could move so fast. Both you and Eddie dive out of the way as the hippopotamus thunders toward you. You scrabble for your gun, and then roll over, pointing at its forehead. You let out a yell and hear Eddie shouting beside you as you squeeze the trigger, and the hippo falls forward onto the ground, less than three yards away. You fall back, laughing hoarsely with sheer relief. Then you glance over at Eddie.
  
  "I want to go home."
  
  The End