Everyone has their own way of dealing with loss. At our age, the death of people you know becomes a more and more regular occurrence. Funerals are rare occasions until slowly, stealthily, they become more and more frequent and you develop a certain routine. Gerald was killed in the very fulfillment of his life’s work, doing what he loved doing. That ought to count for something, your final thought being that unicorns are real, or in Gerald’s case, chupacabras. I got Gerald home, as well as the beast that killed him. It’s now in the Natural History museum, stuffed, in a corner that also holds paintings of dodos, and a skeleton thought to belong to an Australian Bunyip. I go and look at it now and then, and wonder whether it was all worth it. When I figure it out, I’ll tell you.
— Prof. Margaret Enderby, “Proving the negative wrong”
Deep in the African jungle, beyond the gaze of Gods or Law, there is suffering the like of which I have never seen before. I like to think that people are generally good in nature, that they treat each other wth the same respect that they themselves would want to be treated. This chapter, from Prof. Enderby’s hand, allows a brief glimpse into a place where things are not what they ought to be. I wish there had been more that we could do, but as the report will show, we were lucky to escape with our lives.