“God damn it! Quick, get out!”
(I motion to Miles and Benga, “Stay alert, but lets move fast.”)
With a cloud of dust, I pull away from the waterhole and head up the road with Miles right on my tail.
“Makali, you and Benjamin watch. I’m going to focus on the road.”
“Yes, Bwana. Me have bad feeling,” Makali responded, looking at me.
“Yeah, me too, friend. Me too.”
For the next three or so minutes we are in a dense forest area of the ranch. This section of the road is very winding and in some places very narrow. Due to the recent rain, there are numerous eroded and muddy low spots. I should slow down and be more cautious. Miles is close enough behind me that his Rover is wearing some of consequences of my reckless driving. Coming around a sharp and fairly blind curve, I begin to fishtail out of control. Gaining control, I unwisely accelerate in a slick spot and slide sideways into a low bog under some trees. I shift again to four-wheel drive only to dig all tires hopelessly deep in the mud.
“God damn it! Quick, get out!” shouting as I jump out with my rifle. “You’ll have to carry us all, Miles,” pointing at Miles, who is stopped safely on the road. “We’ll use your winch to pull the mother out later.” Makali was already opening the back door. Benjamin is right behind. We climb in. I get in the back. “Go. Go.”