Elephant Song

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 For my wife and cherished companion, Danielle Antoinette This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

      Elephant Song by Wilbur Smith

It was a windowless thatched building of dressed sandstone blocks, that Daniel Armstrong had built with his own hands almost ten years ago.  At the time he had been a junior game ranger in the National Parks administration.  Since then the building had been converted into a veritable treasure house.

Johnny Nzou slipped his key into the heavy padlock, and swung open the double doors of hewn native teak.  Johnny was chief warden of Chiwewe National Park.  Back in the old days, he had been Daniel's tracker and gunbearer, a bright young Matabele whom Daniel had taught to read, write and speak fluent English by the light of a thousand campfires.

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