(A Short Story: 5th of 8 Installments)

Dear Fellow Earthlings,

This is the fifth installment of an 8-installment story of how things will end up if we do not STOP killing elephants NOW!

The Last African Elephant page 5 of 8 pages

I know that they kill us for money. I see what money does: it substitutes for effort, for kindness, for strength, for cunning, for food -- and that apes who have enough of it can avoid working, can shun other creatures with impunity, can buy guns for strength, can employ researchers and politicians to take advantage of the intelligence and cunning of those types, and can exchange money for many things and pleasures (many of them unnecessary, such as cars, sound systems, and prostitutes).

I understand the talking apes more than they realize, but I am unable to protect myself or others of my kind. I am too big to hide, I do not have the ability to form words in my throat or on paper. Not having hands, I cannot fashion any tools -- weapons,

Oh, if only my ancestors had trampled the apes to death before they got guns…!

Perhaps it is the fact that I am hungry and lonely -- I haven’t seen others of my kind for over three years now -- but coming up from my subconscious is a “species memory”. In it are visions of my wooly-haired cousins, the mammoths, as they were methodically annihilated by the talking apes who appeared some 35,000 years ago in Europe and Asia. l Or of my low slung tusked cousins the mastodons as they were eliminated by native Americans.

But I am neither a mammoth nor a mastodon! The mammoth could be stampeded by poorly-armed spear throwers. The mastodon could be surrounded and bled to death by numberous spears.

Not so I!

I recall that early morning when the poachers were trying to run me toward a blind canyon. That one Land Rover crew got the surprise of their life when they got ambushed from behind. Thinking I was stupid cost those three men their lives. But indeed, I was blessed with higher-than-average intelligence and insight, considering I am “only” an elephant. After I slammed those three butchers into the ground, I then had to run for two straight days to get away from the other two Land Rovers. The operators of those machines finally had to give up chasing me for lack of fuel.

(continued in tomorrow’s installment)

Steve Walker

Earthsaver and Jingles Creator

© 2013 Steve Walker, The Jingles-The Japan Foundation for English Pronunciation, Summit Enterprises.