I am a wildlife photographer. All my life, I have been traveling the world in search of photos of rare and endangered animals. So it came as no suprise to those around me that when I was offered the chance to go to Africa to photograph the elusive monarch of the Savannah, the mighty lion, that I left with all haste for the airport.

My plane arrived in Nairobi, Kenya at about 3:00 p.m. Local. I was met by the minister of game and wildlife for the surrounding area. He was informed that I was arriving and was very glad to meet with me. Over coffee at his office in the central city, he told me that one of the local villages in the outlying area had been frequently attacked by a lion and the chances would be good for me to get a picture there. He also told me the villagers were sometimes beating the bush in an attempt to find it and kill it. This news came as no surprise, but at the same time very much distressed me.

At that, we left his office and he drove me to the hotel, where I would spend my first night in Kenya. It was a modest hotel in the center of the city. The room was small, dusty and hot. A ceiling fan ineffectively moved the air about the room, making no change in the temperature whatsoever. There was a small balcony with a table and two chairs outside the windows that overlooked the main street. The wind that blew in through them was hot and smelled of gasoline, cooking, and of human sweat. The only respite I got that night from the oppressive heat of the city was by taking a cold bath. This proved only to make me more aware of how hot it was once I was out of the water.

After drying myself and dressing, I headed downstairs to the hotel's restaurant. As I sat over dinner, I saw a group of locals drove by, the jeep loaded with people carrying what looked to be high powered rifles. Two tables over, there was an English (or so I guessed from his accent) gentleman, dressed in safari clothing, complete from the high shoes, khaki shorts and shirt to the wide brimmed hat with chin strap. Dressed as he was, he would not look out of place on top of an elephant, except that he had a physical build that spoke of too many rich meals coupled with years of work behind a desk. He was remarkably plump, and did not quite fit his clothing.

As I listened to him talk with his friends at his table, I overheard him boasting about going out hunting for lions.

Quickly finishing my dinner, I went back up to my room and composed a letter to the minister of game. After going through the front desk and dialing his fax number, I hooked the modem of my laptop into the phone line. Sending the fax about this marked "Extremely Urgent" to him, I then sat back and made the appropriate entries in my personal log on my computer. I hooked the phone back up, dialed the front desk and asked for an international line to the United States. The operator told me it would take about ten minutes to complete that connection, as they have been having trouble with the telesat connection, and he'd ring me when the connection was established. I hung up the phone and waited. I finished my log entry with descriptions of the individuals involved, what I had for dinner and a quick note to my housemate, who was watching over my "pet" lioness back home. I had adopted the lioness as a cub after her mother was brutally killed when some gang member broke into the zoo. He used a long knife tied to a pole and stabbed her 17 times in a bizarre "right of entry" ritual. She died of blood loss about three hours later, and was found by the zookeepers in the morning. Her cub was curled up by her side, licking her face.

A friend of mine who worked there called me immediately and informed me of the tragedy. He knew that I had the time and experience to care for her, and the zoo did not. So I adopted her, and she now lives with me on my property.

The phone rang. I picked it up and was told that my line was ready. Dialing the number to my home,I connected the phone line to the laptop's modem, logged into my server and uploaded the log file. My work has sometimes proved dangerous, and I like to leave details about where I am and the situation, should the end of my life come by foul means.

This almost happened to me when I was in Siberia. I was working with the government there to expose, through photographic evidence, a poaching ring that was killing Siberian tigers to fulfill the need for tiger parts. After tailing the subjects with the help of the KGB, we found the small camp that the poachers had set up, deep in the wilderness. Marking the position on a map, we made plans to come back closer to nighttime to get photos of their operation. We couldn't stop them unless we had photographic proof of their activities.

As night approached, we quietly walked in to the forest near the camp, all of us wearing military camouflage gear and kevlar vests. We weren't taking any chances. I set up my camera with my night lenses. We waited, drinking hot coffee to keep warm in the cold night hours.

A long time later after paritally drifting off, I came fully to my senses by a distant roar of a tiger and the sound of human voices. Alert and fully awake, I used a night vision device to spot the sources of the sounds. I saw nothing for long moments. Then, walking into the clearing were six men carrying a cage with a Siberian tigress and her cub inside. I knew this would be my chance to get them on film. I carefully checked my camera to make sure it wasn't frozen by the cold, and grabbed the remote trigger. Focusing on the center of their camp, where the most light was and the snow had been turned up from the trampling of booted feet, I waited.

As I expected, they set the cage down in the middle of the camp. Now there were eight of them, all dressed in winter camouflage as were the agents with me and myself. Long moments passed as they talked among themselves. One of the agents was using amplified recording equipment, while another was taking notes. I asked Alexi, the head of the team, what they were saying. He told me that they were talking about who they were going to deliver them to, how they were going to kill them and other odd details. I asked them if we had to wait until blood had been shed to stop them and he said hesitantly "yes, we must". He was as upset about it as I was. My finger automatically pressed the remote trigger and the camera started recording the events.

They opened the cage a few minutes later and got the cub out by the use of a cattle prod. It took two strong men to hold onto the 2X8 piece of lumber jammed through the cage to keep the tigress from getting out. The cub, approximately three months old, approached the men with curiosity. At that moment, I whispered to Alexi "We can't let this happen...we have to move now. Look at the cub! She is used to being handled and she's heading right to them. For god's sake we have to stop this!"

"I know, comrade." he said. He looked to his men "All right, lets get in there now and stop this. That cub is defenseless, and I will not stand by and watch this." He handed me an AK-47. "Do you know how to use this?" he asked. I nodded. "you may need to." With that he got up and approached the rest of his men. He signaled to them and we prepared to run, the adrenaline pumping wildly through my veins.

I checked to see that the camera was still rolling, and we made our rush. Too late for the cub...she was picked up by a big grinning bear of a man. He held her at face level. She looked at him and licked his face, and at that moment, his grin widened into a vicious grin. He plunged his long knife into her chest. Fortunately, the knife pierced her heart and she suffered little. The tigress seemed to know what had just happened and redoubled her efforts to escape, snarling and roaring in rage.

All weapons drawn and cocked, we ran into the camp, the agents yelling 'halt!' in Russian. The startled poachers dropped what they had in thier hands and made a run for it. Some of them began taking poorly aimed shots at us. I was struck in the shoulder, a slight wound. I didn't feel it until much later. I approached the man who killed the cub, as in his haste he tripped and fell to the ground. He stood up to stare into the barrel of my gun. I released the safety and my finger was involuntarily squeezing the trigger. I couldn't hear anything. The blood was pounding in my ears. Then a gentle hand grabbed my arm. "It's all over...the tigress is safe, and you can put the gun down now." Alexi's hand gently but firmly forced my machine gun down.

The man who I faced sneered at me. He spoke one word to me in Russian "Durak". He switched to perfect English and said "That means stupid. That's what you are..." My face tightened in a mask of contained rage and I yanked him up to stand on his feet. I looked him directly in the eye. His sneer widened and he spat in my face. I lost control. Bringing the AK-47 slowly up and reversing my grip on it, I slammed the butt of it into his jaw. He fell down and I hit him again on the forehead. At that, he passed out, the whites of his eyes showing. I didn't even check to see if he was still breathing...I didn't care.

After the tigress was sedated, I looked her over. She had a tag on her right ear that identified her as a circus animal. I was sick. I now realized that they had stole these animals and it was no harder for them than plucking a leaf off of a tree. I looked at the body of the cub lying in her own blood on the snow. I felt sicker. I ran to the edge of the camp and vomited.

In what seemed to be hours later, I felt hands on my shoulders and found myself sitting next to where I had threw up. "It's okay now, comrade. It's over. Several of them are now in the custody of the local authorities." A realization dawned on me. "Several of them?" I asked in a hoarse voice. "Yes...unfortunately two of them escaped." was all the answer I got.

Days after the incident, I was preparing to leave my hotel room for the airport and the plane that would take me back home. I had woken up an hour early with the urgent sensation to check my mail in the lobby. When I was heading back up the stairs with a cup of steaming coffee in my hands, I felt the building tremble and heard a dull thud. I thought that it might have been an earthquake, but as I topped the stairs to the floor where I was staying, the nagging feeling became a cold knot in the pit of my stomach. The floor was filled with smoke, and where the door to my room used to be now there was nothing but a blackened smoking hole. Calling the American consulate, I demanded immediate safe passage to the airport. I was picked up by a limousine a few minutes later and rushed me to the airport.

Back home, I was informed in a letter by Alexi that it had been an organized hit. Very professional. They had been noting my routine on a tip they had. The letter also said 'Watch your back. You've angered powerful people.'

So it was with some reservation that I took the assignment in Africa.

A button on the screen of my computer flashed. I came back from these distant memories with a start. The upload was complete and I had one file awaiting a download. It was a text file. I hit the button that began the procedure, stood up and stretched my legs, and poured myself some water from the pitcher on the nightstand. It was warm and tasted slightly alkaline. I came back over to my computer as the file finished it's transfer. I remotely sent my server to it's sleep mode, and terminated the connection.

I opened the file, it was from William. He said that all was going well, and that Lucy had been very easy to handle. He also told me that Lucy had not been eating regularly for a few days after my departure, and was losing a bit of weight, but it seemed to be nothing to be concerned about. Her diet had returned to normal a couple of days ago. William sent his love, and promised that he would be with me next time. He hated being alone, and missed my company. It seemed that Lucy missed me too, she spent every night sleeping on my bed next to William.

I saved the file to my personal directory and shut the computer off. It had been a long day, and I was tired. I looked at the wall clock. 11:47 p.m., 'What am I doing up so late?' I said aloud. Turning back the covers on the bed I prepared to get some sleep.

Sometime during that night, I dreamt of an African lion. Tall in the shoulder with a large mane. He approached me, looking directly into my eyes. Then he walked into me...straight through me until our forms became one. A deep rumbling voice gently said "This is who you are...". I walked over to a waterhole. Body didn't feel right. Senses slightly askew. I looked down to see the face of a male lion looking back up at me. I nosed the reflection and my nose got wet. I raised a paw. 'Now wait a minute' I thought to myself...'paw?' I looked at it. It was tawny colored and large. I inspected it and found the sharp claws.

I awoke with the sun beating in through the windows. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was trying to work it's way out of my chest. I stood up. Legs didn't feel right. I lost my balance and fell against the nighttable sending the water pitcher to the floor in a shower of pottery. I couldn't see right either...felt weird somehow. Mind didn't feel right. Strange disjointed thoughts. Lion's eyes looking at me from a mirror. Smells were stronger. I could hear someone whispering. I looked around the room; no one there. I could hear birds singing, the sound so loud in my ears it was painful.

Minutes later, after my senses returned to normal, I stood up. My legs supported me though I was still dizzy. I looked at the water pitcher. 'Musta been something in the water' I thought. The same deep voice that I heard in my dream spoke inside my head "No...it wasn't...you know better." Shaking my head to clear it I decided to see the local doctor and have myself checked for malaria. Malaria is the number one killer and I knew that the work I was doing was far more important than for me to risk being ill.

I called down to the front desk. The desk clerk gave me the number of two local doctors. I thanked him for his assistance and asked him to ring through to one of them, a Dr. M'Butu. The phone rang three times before it was answered. A husky female voice answered "Hello, Dr.M'Butu's office. How may I help you?" "Well, I need an appointment to see the doctor." I said, trying to hide the nerves in my voice "it may be an emergency. Can he see me today?" "Yes" the voice answered "be here in about an hour and the doctor will see you." After getting directions to the office, I headed downstairs to have some breakfast. My appetite was very good this morning. Which was odd for me as I usually skipped breakfast.

While I was sitting at my table, I saw the same English gentleman leaving the hotel. I followed him with my eyes. He was openly carrying a large caliber rifle, and he had his two friends from last night with him. He disappeared down the sidewalk. I was now very upset. I thought to myself that I couldn't afford any time away from my job, so it had better not be malaria!

The trip to the doctors proved it was not malaria, or any other disease. As a matter of fact I was in better health that day than I had been since the trip to the Soviet Union, two years prior. That unsettled me. What had happened to me? Why was I so disoriented when I woke up? This nagged at me for the rest of my stay in Africa, that is until I found the answer, and that blew me away more than anything had in my life.

Back at the hotel, I checked my mail with the desk clerk. I had two bills for long distance service, nothing more. After paying them I went back to my room to take a shower. That mornings events had shaken me up so bad that I had forgotten to.

The shower felt absolutely wonderful. As I indulged myself with the massager, spraying it on my shoulders and neck, a strange feeling came over me again. I felt tired. I closed my eyes and let the water wash over my face. I could feel the lion again, watching me from a corner of my mind. I heard him say "Relax...you are fighting it. This is who you are." A vision of an adult male lion, the same one I saw in my dream formed before my mental eye. He looked at me. Looked into me, and then the same thing happened. We became eachother.

I fell out of the shower with a thump. Again the disorientation. Again the heightened senses, and again the feeling that this body was clumsy, awkward. I tried to stand, but I had hit my head. As my vision went black, I saw that lion again. He was looking at me with great concern in his eyes.

In my unconscious state, I saw that again I was the lion. Standing at the waterhole I again lifted my right front paw and examined it. Sharp claws came out of thier sheaths when I flexed my muscles. I felt strong. I felt alive. I could feel the heat of the sun burning down on my heavily furred neck and head, and knew instinctively that I needed shade. Walking across the grass, I found a cool spot under an acacia tree.

I laid down and rolled on my side, panting in the heat. I could feel everything, and now I pondered my situation. Why was I here in the body of a lion? Where the hell was I anyway? What exactly was happening to me?

A noise behind me caused me to swivel my ears backward (oh how marvelous and sensitive these senses were!). My pridemates were walking up toward the tree to lay in the shade, I had heard them when they were very far away, and marvelled at the new senses that filled my mind with sounds and smells I'd not noticed before.

I slowly came back to conciousness. I was in my hotel room. My vision was blurred. My head hurt like someone had taken a jackhammer to it. I felt the back of my skull. My hair was all matted and sticky. I pulled at it and found dried blood in my hand. I felt my scalp for any large cracks but to my relief felt only a small cut. I tried to stand up, but my legs wouldn't work. I could feel water running over my feet and realized that I had been laying there for god knows how long. The backs of my knees on the edge of the tub cutting off the circulation. I pulled at my legs and managed to get them onto the floor.

What was happening to me? Was I going crazy? Was there some sort of untraceable strain of virus coursing through my veins? Have I been poisoned??

Rubbing feeling back into my legs, I sat up, my head feeling as if it weighed a ton. I massaged my temples in a vain effort to relieve the headache. When I could stand again, I walked slowly over to my computer on unsteady legs. I made the journal entries regarding these rather peculiar circumstances, saving them into a newly created directory : illness.

Certainly I had not felt ill until this morning. Maybe it was a slow working poison. Untraceable that would slowly rob me of all my senses and eventually kill me. I quickly shot these thoughts from my head. I called room service, ordered lunch and hung up the phone. I shut the water off in the bathroom.

Room service arrived. Taking my lunch and tipping the waiter, I closed the door and locked it. I had to sit down and figure all this out. What did it mean? I emailed my spirit brother about what was happening to me. I took a bite out of the sandwich, sipped at my herbal tea. I looked at the clock; 4:45 p.m. "My god, how could that be?" I said aloud. I had started my shower at 11:00...it was now late afternoon. Tomorrow I had to be out at the village checking with the people there. I didn't need to have these things happening to me now.

I checked my email and fax inbox to see if I had any messages waiting. There were two emails and a fax. The fax was from the minister of wildlife. He would be waiting in the hotel lobby at six in the morning to drive me to the village. Our lion had paid another visit and the people were about to hunt him down.

The two emails were from my spirit brother. I downloaded the mail files to my computer read them as I finished my lunch. The first had been written earlier this morning my time, late night for him. He asked how I was doing, told me of events in his life and wished me well. The second was his reply to my latest letter. I opened that one first and read it. He asked me what my totem told me about the experience, which set my mind thinking in the right direction about the experiences.