The mother elephant let out another low snort, her dark eyes searching Paul’s face. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. “Please,” he whispered, placing a hand on her arm. “Trust me. I’ll come back. I won’t let you fend for yourself, I promise.”
She seemed to hesitate, her heavy breathing steadying as she finally shifted her gaze away. Paul stood, his legs trembling. “I’ll come back,” he said again, more firmly this time, as though reassuring himself. He wiped his eyes quickly, steeling his resolve.
As Paul stepped away, the mother elephant didn’t follow, her gaze fixed on the waterhole below. Her restrained presence felt like a quiet acceptance, but it only deepened Paul’s guilt. Turning his back on her and the baby was the hardest thing he had ever done.
Paul begrudgingly made his way back, his steps heavy with guilt. He found Dr. Ndaba waiting with his equipment. Paul quickly explained the situation, his voice urgent. The doctor listened intently, then glanced at his medical bag. “We’ll use what we have to get the baby out,” he said.