The Last Hunt
A work of fiction by Tsao Alexander
Waterton Publishing Company
No part of this book was created using Artificial Intelligence (AI).
This is a work of fiction. The events described are imaginary and the settings and characters are fictitious and not intended to represent actual places, companies, or persons.
Copyright © 2026 by Waterton Publishing Company. All Rights Reserved.
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THE LAST HUNT
CHAPTER 9
The search party separated into teams of two spreading out from the Roberts’ camp like the spokes of a wheel. Each team had a two-way radio. Clarence was with a native porter as were Kamau, Vince, and Jane. The other four porters made up two other teams, so there were six spokes on the wheel.
The dogs had never been used for tracking but they seemed to catch on instinctively. Each was allowed to sniff around the camp, with Tommy finding Heather Roberts’ suitcase, which was open, and dragging out all her clothes. He scattered them throughout her tent and then rolled in them. Mako soon joined Tommy and was sniffing through the English woman’s fancy underwear, shirts, pants, and hats. When the dogs were done absorbing the scent, Kamau and Clarence each selected a couple items of clothing to remind the dogs of their task.
Searchers were to be back at camp by sunset, which meant they could only go five or so kilometers before turning around. About an hour into the search, Clarence received a call from one of the porter teams. “We are in thick undergrowth on a damp trail,” the man said, “the trail that goes to the river, downstream from where the body was found and downstream from the main trail from the camp to the river.”
“Yes, go on,” Clarence replied.
“There are footprints going away from the river and back toward camp.” The man made some noises as if looking around. “They are a small foot in a boot with a rough sole. They are far apart and deeper in the heal as if the man or woman was running.”
“Can you follow them? Are there any other prints? An animal perhaps?” Clarence asked.
“I was just looking. This is a wet spot,” the man continued, “here in the deep growth, but when we get out of the growth the path is hard from drying after the rains. In this spot I see no other prints. We could try to go back toward camp. We did not see the prints until we got here to the wet trail.”
Clarence thought for a moment and then asked the man if he thought the prints were from the woman. “I do not know. It is only the white hunters that wears those kind of boots and it has rained every day since the dead man was found.”
“Yes,” Clarence interrupted, “so these prints may be more recent than the day he was killed.” Clarence thought some more. “If it is the woman,” he told the man, “she could have gone back to the camp.” ‘But why?’ Clarence thought. And then he realized he did not look for the two-way radio the English couple was given at the beginning of their safari.
“I want you to keep going away from the camp, toward the river,” Clarence told the porters, “and keep your eyes open, be careful, and let me know if there is anything else. We are going back to the camp and then out following you with Mako.”
Clarence, Azibo, and Mako ran back to camp. Clarence and Azibo searched every tent for the two-way radio. It was not there. Clarence adjusted the frequency on his radio and spoke into the microphone. Nothing. The radio was not anywhere nearby or the battery was dead. He kept pleading: “Can you hear me? This is Clarence. Can you hear me?”
Then suddenly there was a sound. It was Siyabonga, the porter who Clarence had been talking to earlier. “Chief! Chief! Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Siya,” replied Clarence; “Where did you find the radio?”
“It was near the trail. We are almost to the river. The radio was next to an ant mound, but it was still in the plastic bag. We heard you talking.” Siya waited for Clarence to say something.
But Clarence was thinking a strange thought. He told Siyabonga, “Okay, you two come back to camp once you reach the river. See if you can find any more tracks near the water. Go upstream a little ways. Then come back here. Thanks.”
Clarence was troubled by the radio. Nobody had called to report the Englishman’s demise, yet somebody had the radio. There was only one set of footprints. Probably, the woman. If she had been taken by man or animal, there would have been more prints. It looked like Heather Roberts had either lost the radio or discarded it on purpose.
The first scenario would mean she went on foot for help. The second scenario would mean she did not want to be found. “A beast in this country who does not wish to be found…,” Gabelo would later recite to Clarence. “Will not be found.”
Clarence and Azibo followed the route that Siyabonga and Zola took, keeping a close lookout for footprints in damp soil, those of a small boot with a rough sole. In a short while they came to a small stream where they found several sets of prints in the clay embankment. They were clearly those of the two searchers. Mako became quite agitated and began sniffing and walking upstream with his nose to the ground.
Azibo followed Mako up the stream for a few meters and sure enough spotted other prints that matched Siyabonga’s description of the small boot prints. Whoever had made them had left the trail to cross the stream where several rocks formed a natural bridge.
Clarence bent down to examine one of these prints more closely. He carefully prodded the dirt and found it moist and loose. He could tell that the print was recent and likely within the last two days. Stewart Roberts had probably died within the last three days based on the condition of his remains. If the tracks were those of Heather Roberts, she left the river by way of a less-used trail after her husband was killed.