“Biltong!” he laughed. “It’s beef, treated with salt and spices. And it’s how they used to preserve meat out here before they invented fridges. It lasts for ages without going off, and it will replace the salt we’re losing through our sweat.” He held out a crumpled bag to her. “Here. It’s really tasty.”

Evie peered into the bag. The biltong looked like someone had cut up an old, dry leather belt into strips.

“Uh, I’m fine, thanks,” she said.

“Are you sure?” Bear rustled the bag. “We’ve got a long walk ahead, and the heat will drain the energy out of us.”

Evie tried hard to think of a reason not to eat the biltong.

“I’m not really sweating,” she said. “So maybe I’m not losing salt?”

Bear crouched down next to her. “In this heat we’re both definitely sweating, but out here it evaporates so quickly that we don’t have time to feel wet.” Bear put a piece of biltong into his mouth and chewed. “Mmm. Pretty good. Sure I can’t tempt you?”

Evie shook her head and Bear put the bag away.

They walked on, and Evie tried to ignore the hunger she felt. She was used to ignoring her groaning stomach. She the sun beating down on her. It was so hot, but at least it took her mind off her hunger.

“Vultures,” Bear said suddenly, pointing at some tiny black dots that were circling in the sky ahead of them. “Let’s see what they’ve got,” he said. “There might be something for us.”

Soon Evie could see a dead animal lying in the grass, or what was left of it. Lying on its side, the rhinoceros was as big as Evie. Its skeleton only had grey scraps of flesh left on the bones. It made her feel funny to look at it, so she concentrated on the four vultures that were feeding on it. They were big, black ugly birds with wings like torn umbrellas.

Bear was silent for a while. He just stared at the rhino. Evie couldn’t work out why. “This is why that elephant was right to fear humans,” Bear said softly. “See anything missing?”

Evie took a closer look and saw exactly what Bear meant.

“There’s no horn,” she said, feeling just as sad as Bear sounded.

A rhino should have a massive curved horn on its nose, but this one just had a ragged stump.

Bear nodded.

“Poachers shoot rhinos for their horns. People think it’s got special powers and pay lot of money for it. They put it into medicines.”

He held up his fingers.

“They might as well just chew their fingernails,” he told her, “because rhino horn is made of exactly the same stuff. Keratin.”

Evie could feel the anger growing inside her. This rhino had been killed for absolutely nothing, except someone’s greed.