The Lion Who Stole My Arm Read Online Free PDF Page A

was slow. The road from Madune was close to the edge of the swollen river, and the flood had washed huge holes and ruts into it. The Land Rover kept getting stuck. Pedru helped John and Renaldo push it out of the mud while Beth drove. Pedru enjoyed feeling like part of their team, and after an hour or so of struggling together with the Land Rover, he felt comfortable enough to ask them questions.

    “Why do you and Beth and John study lions?” he asked Renaldo as the Land Rover’s wheels spun in yet another muddy pothole.
    Renaldo put his back to the Land Rover’s bumper and shoved. “There are lots of reasons,” he said, “but the biggest one is that knowing what lions do helps to keep people safe from them.”
    Pedru dug his heels into the mud and heaved. “But why not just hunt them all and kill them? And then people would always be safe.”
    “Because,” said John, “without lions to kill them, you’d have way more bush pigs after your crops.”
    “And,” said Renaldo, screwing up his eyes to push even harder, “one day soon, lions will bring tourists, and tourists will bring money. Lions could give our country so much.”
    “Anyway,” said John, looking sideways into Pedru’s face, “I don’t think you really want to kill lions, do you, Pedru?”
    Just then, the Land Rover shot forward, dropping them all into the mud. Pedru was glad, because it meant that he didn’t have to answer John’s question. He wasn’t sure what to say.
    The shadows were growing long by the time they reached the village, and everyone came out to see who the visitors were. No one could remember the last time a car had come to their village.
    Pedru felt very important as he stepped out of the Land Rover and introduced the lion researchers to Mr. Massingue and to Issa and Adalia. Beth asked him to watch over the Land Rover, while she, John, and Renaldo talked to the village elders.
    Pedru was a bit put out that he was not going to be included, but being allowed to sit in the driver’s seat, scolding any child who tried to climb onto the vehicle, soon made him feel better. He leaned out the window to explain to Enzi and Samuel, Adalia and his little sisters, all about ID pictures, whisker spots, radio collars, and how his drawing had identified the lion who stole his arm.
    It grew dark. Still the grown-ups talked. Pedru fell asleep leaning on the steering wheel, and he woke up to the sound of his father’s voice. “Pedru, wake up,” Issa said. “Get ready. We’re going on a lion hunt.”
    Pedru grabbed his bedroll and his spear from the hut. When he came out again, Issa, John, Renaldo, and Beth were leaning over a map spread on the hood of the Land Rover.
    “So,” John said, turning to Issa, “after it attacked Pedru, the lion headed west?”
    “For six miles. I tracked it and it didn’t stop,” Issa told them.
    “You must taste very bad,” Renaldo said to Pedru.
    “Pedru hit this lion hard on the head,” Issa told them proudly.
    “You stood up to the lion that was chewing on your arm?” said Beth.
    John shook his head. “You are something else, Pedru,” he said.
    “Where did you find the last tracks, Issa?” Beth asked.
    “Here,” Issa said. “But that was before the rains. He could have gone a long, long way since then.”
    “Well,” said Beth thoughtfully, “Anjani won’t go east to his mother’s old territory.”
    “And the land to the south is flooded from the rains,” Issa added, “and the north is rocky, with not much to eat.”
    “So, west is where we start to look,” said John. “OK, let’s get going. Operation Find Pedru’s Lion!”
    The Land Rover bumped slowly through the grassland and sparse trees, heading west to where Issa had last found any sign of Anjani. Every so often, they stopped to look for tracks or to climb a rock or hilltop to scan for lions sleeping in the shade of trees on the horizon.
    Issa told Pedru that the plan the villagers and researchers had agreed on was to