again, heightened by Joe’s anxiety that the tiger might be taken away before he could even glimpse it. When his parents arrived at last, with Iona and a team of tiger experts, he couldn’t help but sob at the feared loss of his last opportunity to see a tiger in the wild. He begged to be allowed to watch while the tiger was sedated before being moved from the basement.
Binti was distraught and wanted him to go straight to hospital.
‘He’s been lying here in the freezing cold for hours while we searched high and low. Who knows what might have happened if Artem hadn’t found him when he did,’ she said.
Peter, however, thought a few more minutes wouldn’t do any harm. ‘Ever since we arrived in Russia, our son’s been obsessed with the idea of seeing a tiger. Let’s not deprive him when he’s so close to achieving his dream.’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ Binti reluctantly agreed.
Joe could tell that she was shocked at what had happened to him and was blaming herself for not keeping a closer eye on him. ‘I was following a raccoon dog,’ he attempted to explain. ‘I was about to turn back when I heard a noise coming from the basement . . .’
From his stretcher, he looked on anxiously as one of the tiger experts placed a ladder against the door of the basement and climbed up it, carrying a gun.
‘They’re going to tranquillise him,’ Peter told him. ‘Then your mother and the other vets will check him over before they take him away for treatment.’
Joe suddenly remembered his camera. ‘Where’s my camera, Dad?’ he cried. ‘Is my camera all right? I want to take a photo. Please let me take a photo.’
Artem handed Peter the camera case. ‘Tough,’ he said. ‘Like Joe.’
‘I hope so,’ said Peter. He checked the camera over and passed it to Joe. ‘I’ve got to hand it to you, Joe. I might have taken photos from some strange places, but this beats the lot!’
Joe smiled and felt a small glow of pride, then winced as the tranquilliser gun was fired.
Everyone waited quietly. After a few moments, when the all-clear was given, they opened the door and shone a light into the room. Joe raised his head and stared. There he was – the young Amur tiger he had unknowingly spent the last few hours with.
Joe was astonished at how big he was. When Artem had told him it was a cub, he had imagined something the size of a terrier. This young tiger was more the size of an Old English sheepdog.
‘He’s so handsome!’ Joe said. ‘Look how big his paws are!’
He propped himself up against his father, raised his camera and pressed the button.
‘Happy now?’ Binti asked, stroking his hair.
Joe nodded and relaxed, keeping his eyes on the sleeping cub.
‘He’s about nine months old, I should say,’ Iona told him. ‘One month for every year of your life. He has an injured leg too. He must have become separated from his mother for some reason and strayed into the village, so he’s had to fend for himself. He hasn’t managed very well by the look of it.’
‘Poor thing,’ said Joe. ‘What will happen to him now?’
‘We’ll take him to a rehabilitation centre, where he’ll be given a thorough check-up. Eventually, when he’s fit and strong again, he’ll be released back into the wild.’
‘A little bit like you then, Joe,’ joked his father.
‘You know it was Boris who saved us, don’t you?’ Joe told Iona. ‘He’s not as slow on the uptake as you thought.’
Chapter 17
Joe’s leg wasn’t badly broken and he was allowed to leave hospital two days later. He was quite proud of the cast that stretched from his knee to his foot. Several of the hospital staff had written on it in Russian, wishing him a speedy recovery. The fieldworkers at the park headquarters wrote on it too, requesting that he visit them again in the future because he had brought them good luck. One of them even drew a tiger on it.
‘We spend our lives tracking tigers and hoping for new ones to
Binti was distraught and wanted him to go straight to hospital.
‘He’s been lying here in the freezing cold for hours while we searched high and low. Who knows what might have happened if Artem hadn’t found him when he did,’ she said.
Peter, however, thought a few more minutes wouldn’t do any harm. ‘Ever since we arrived in Russia, our son’s been obsessed with the idea of seeing a tiger. Let’s not deprive him when he’s so close to achieving his dream.’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ Binti reluctantly agreed.
Joe could tell that she was shocked at what had happened to him and was blaming herself for not keeping a closer eye on him. ‘I was following a raccoon dog,’ he attempted to explain. ‘I was about to turn back when I heard a noise coming from the basement . . .’
From his stretcher, he looked on anxiously as one of the tiger experts placed a ladder against the door of the basement and climbed up it, carrying a gun.
‘They’re going to tranquillise him,’ Peter told him. ‘Then your mother and the other vets will check him over before they take him away for treatment.’
Joe suddenly remembered his camera. ‘Where’s my camera, Dad?’ he cried. ‘Is my camera all right? I want to take a photo. Please let me take a photo.’
Artem handed Peter the camera case. ‘Tough,’ he said. ‘Like Joe.’
‘I hope so,’ said Peter. He checked the camera over and passed it to Joe. ‘I’ve got to hand it to you, Joe. I might have taken photos from some strange places, but this beats the lot!’
Joe smiled and felt a small glow of pride, then winced as the tranquilliser gun was fired.
Everyone waited quietly. After a few moments, when the all-clear was given, they opened the door and shone a light into the room. Joe raised his head and stared. There he was – the young Amur tiger he had unknowingly spent the last few hours with.
Joe was astonished at how big he was. When Artem had told him it was a cub, he had imagined something the size of a terrier. This young tiger was more the size of an Old English sheepdog.
‘He’s so handsome!’ Joe said. ‘Look how big his paws are!’
He propped himself up against his father, raised his camera and pressed the button.
‘Happy now?’ Binti asked, stroking his hair.
Joe nodded and relaxed, keeping his eyes on the sleeping cub.
‘He’s about nine months old, I should say,’ Iona told him. ‘One month for every year of your life. He has an injured leg too. He must have become separated from his mother for some reason and strayed into the village, so he’s had to fend for himself. He hasn’t managed very well by the look of it.’
‘Poor thing,’ said Joe. ‘What will happen to him now?’
‘We’ll take him to a rehabilitation centre, where he’ll be given a thorough check-up. Eventually, when he’s fit and strong again, he’ll be released back into the wild.’
‘A little bit like you then, Joe,’ joked his father.
‘You know it was Boris who saved us, don’t you?’ Joe told Iona. ‘He’s not as slow on the uptake as you thought.’
Chapter 17
Joe’s leg wasn’t badly broken and he was allowed to leave hospital two days later. He was quite proud of the cast that stretched from his knee to his foot. Several of the hospital staff had written on it in Russian, wishing him a speedy recovery. The fieldworkers at the park headquarters wrote on it too, requesting that he visit them again in the future because he had brought them good luck. One of them even drew a tiger on it.
‘We spend our lives tracking tigers and hoping for new ones to
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