by Jacqueline Seewald

I had a camera with me and resolved to get out and use it the following morning. So there I was up at the crack of dawn. I located the stable and asked for the least spirited horse available, since I was barely competent in the saddle. Luckily, the mare I got was old, gentle, and suited me perfectly.

It wasn't long before I started seeing animals roaming the range. I took pictures of boar, elk, buffalo, along with some exotic-looking species of deer and sheep. The sportsmen weren't in the area; probably these creatures were too tame for their tastes. I'd overheard one of the men the night before talking about hunting leopards.

I kept following along the trail, getting hotter and more tired by the minute. I was about to stop for a drag on my water bottle when I saw a party of riders just ahead. As I got in closer, I observed Lowell drawing a beat on a white leopard with a .35 caliber rifle. He shot the animal in the rump repeatedly. It quivered and red blood flowed across the white fur like good wine escaping a shattered decanter. I did my best not to upchuck my breakfast.

I recognize an endangered species when I see one. Definitely this was an illegal hunt and one I intended to report. That was a no-brainer.

All of a sudden, Chad's flunky was grabbing my reins.

"Let go, B.S.!"

"That's B.J., Ma'am."

"Yeah, well tell it to someone who cares." Try as hard as I might, I couldn't get free of him.

"Chad, we got trouble. She saw the kill go down."

Chad ignored both B.J. and me. "Shoot it through the heart," Chad told Lowell, disgust evident in his tone of voice. "You want to go for a clean kill."

"Wouldn't want the poor, dumb critter to suffer, would you, Chad?" Sometimes my mouth is bigger than my brain.

Chad gave me a cold, hard look. "I thought you were a smart gal. It appears I was wrong. The only thing smart about you is your mouth. I told you this was off-limits but you wouldn't listen. I figure you're as dumb as you are nosy."

I would have told him to bite me but I was afraid that he would. A butterfly screamed in the pit of my stomach. Chad and B.J. herded me away from the group of hunters who seemed a lot more interested in Lowell's kill than my fate.

"You ever hear of Langtry? It's between Del Rio and Alpine. Nice little town. Judge Roy Bean had his Jersey Lilly saloon and courtroom there. Now that was a man who knew how to dispense justice West Texas-style. Judge Roy was good at punishing criminals. I sure do admire him."

"I'm not the criminal here," I pointed out. "Look, I think you're over-reacting."

Chad looked at me as if I hadn't spoken. "Sometimes I get downright bored hunting these stupid animals. I'm thinking the best kind of animal to hunt is a semi-intelligent quarry. Haven't hunted a man in quite along time. Never have hunted a woman. Tell you what, just to make it sporting, I'll let you keep the horse. And I'll give you a fifteen-minute head start as a handicap. You go anywhere you please, darlin'; do what you like, but God help you when I catch you!"

"Hey, you obviously think you can live out the movies in real life, but this is totally sick!"

Chad ignored me and looked at his Rolex, studying the time. He'd obviously classified me as too-dumb-to-live.

I felt the blood thumping in my head. Terrified, I took off in a fright barely able to think. It was surreal. I felt as though I were a character in an action flick. Life was definitely imitating bad art. They were going to kill me! I was going to die! I couldn't catch my breath.

And then I saw it. The white rhino still had its one good horn. It was looking straight at me, its pink eyes glowing. It came toward me, sunlight glowing around its pure white fur. And I wasn't frightened anymore. I felt serene, safe, secure. I could think clearly again. Like Buddha beholding the Bo Tree, I had a sudden revelation.

I realized Chad expected me to panic and head right for those electrified gates, but I knew better than that. If I played his game I could only lose. I took off and rode as hard as I was able back to the lodge. When I reached my room, I locked the door. Then I went to the phone and called emergency, identifying myself as Chad's secretary and reporting a fire at the lodge. I extracted a promise that they'd be coming immediately.

By the time I got off the phone Chad was knocking at the door. "Come out," he ordered. "I thought you were at least going to give me a fight."

"I'm not going anywhere," I said, checking my watch. "You'll have to huff and puff and blow my door down."

He fiddled with the lock and cursed. I guess he was trying to figure out whether or not he wanted to break in the door and make a scene that could be witnessed by other people. Not everyone on the premises worked for him.

It appeared to be a Mexican standoff until I saw B.J. climbing up to the balcony by my window. Quickly, I located the two waste paper baskets in the room, filled them with all the toilet paper, tissues and stationary I could get together in a hurry and used a matchbox from my handbag to light them. By then I could hear the fire engines in the distance. Pretty soon the fire alarms were shrilling and the sprinklers were dumping water over everything in the room including me. As B. J. smashed through my window, I tossed the smoldering wastepaper baskets at his head causing him to fall backwards. Then I gave him a hard shove before he could regain his balance. He sailed backwards over the balcony, fell flat on his ass on the grass below and looked pretty darn foolish lying there groaning.

It wasn't long before two brawny firemen whisked me out of the lodge right under Chad Wainright's nose. Needless to say, this was one corrupt celebrity who wasn't going to run for politics after all. He was busted, totally screwed. So maybe I wouldn't get a Pulitzer, but it didn't matter.

Chad's ranch met with disaster as well. Apparently some large animal spooked the horse of one of the hunters who later claimed to be crippled for life. He sued Chad for millions on grounds of negligence and won. Chad, who was under-insured, ended up losing everything. A case of divine justice? I couldn't say for certain but I did think the albino rhino would have felt a sense of satisfaction, just as I did.

* * * THE END * * *