“I guess this is it.” I said, looking at a small hut in front of me. The roof was falling apart, and the door was cracked, but I walked in. “Hello?” I called, but there was no reply. I searched around the hut, only finding three pieces of furniture, a bed, a small cooler, and a table. Lying on the table was a fresh sheet of paper, with my name at the top. 

Dear Cassie,
	 I see you have found the hut. I am sorry that it is such an old place, but it was the best I could do. There is a mountain not too far from here; I’ve heard there have been some recent sightings of the mountain zebra. I hope your research on these endangered animals goes well. There is a water pump in the back, and I have put some food in the cooler for you. The plane leaves from Tanzania on Friday at 5:00. 
									Good luck,
										Your boss 

	I got out my binoculars, and tied my long, blond hair back into a ponytail. 
“Well,” I sighed. “I guess I better get started.”  I left my hut, and headed out for the mountain. I was off to find the endangered mountain zebra. I put my binoculars in front of my eyes, and started searching for black and white stripes.

	I stomped through the tall wild grass, getting hotter and hotter, with no sign of the zebras. Finally, I decided to sit down under a shady tree. I pulled my canteen out of my pocket, and took a refreshing drink of water. Just as I was about to give up hope of seeing any zebras, I saw one dart behind a big rock. I pulled out my camera, just in time to get a quick picture, but was interrupted when I heard a noise like a trumpet in the distance.

	I stood up. Was that an elephant?  Trying to be silent, I walked closer to the direction where the noise was coming from. I was just about to turn back towards the hut, when I heard the sound again. The sound was followed by the sound of footsteps coming towards me. When I looked behind me, I was looking straight into the eyes of a baby elephant. 

	I slowly started to back away. “I-It’s okay,” I said aloud. “I-I’m just going to leave now.” I told the elephant. The baby elephant followed me. Uh oh. I thought. Please leave! The elephant kept following me. 

	I was starting to get worried. What if the mother wasn’t far behind? What would she think? After a while without seeing any sign of her family,  I began to think this baby might be an orphan. 

	I had reached the hut, but the elephant was still right next to me. 
	“You have to go,” I told it. It just moved closer to me. I sighed, and sat down, hoping the baby would go. It didn’t. It just stood there, swinging its trunk until I went inside. Then it started to walk away.

	“Finally.” I said, relived. I sat down on my bed, and looked at my picture of the zebra on my camera. It was blurry. I took my mosquito net out of my suitcase, and hung it around my bed. Just as I finished tying the last string to the windowsill, I heard a crash coming from the front of the hut. What was that?
	
	I ran to the front of the hut, looking around to see what had happened. I heard a high-pitched trumpeting noise, and turned to find that the baby elephant had returned. Its trunk was hanging over the side of the window, next to a pile of broken wood. The baby had broken the windowsill.

	 It was then that I realized - this baby wasn’t going to leave me alone. I went to the cooler, and opened the lid. Inside were a sack of rice, some lentils, some carrot sticks, and some other vegetables. I pulled out a big, fat carrot stick.

	“There you go,” I said to the baby, letting her wrap her trunk around the long carrot. She put it in her mouth, and chewed it. She looked up at me, and put her trunk on my shoulder. I couldn’t help but smile. I looked out the window. It was getting dark, and I didn’t know what to do about the elephant. “Goodnight.” I said to her, and then went to sleep.

	The next morning, it was foggy, so I knew I wouldn’t have much luck finding the zebras. Disappointed, I went outside to see if the elephant had left. As I suspected, she hadn’t. She was playing with the water pump, turning it on, and off, up, and down.

	“No!” I cried. “That’s my water!” I ran over to her, and turned off the water. She tried to turn it back on again, but I pushed her away.  “Look,” I said to her. “I’ll take you to the watering hole, but this is my water.”  I didn’t know where the watering hole was, or if there even was one, but I thought I could at least try to find one. “Come on,” I said to the baby. So we headed out into the hot grasslands to find water.

	We had been walking for hours, and I felt as if I were about to collapse. Just as I was about to stop to rest, we came to a small pool of water, about as big as a bathtub. I sat down in the tall grass, while my new friend drank her water. 

	“You need a name.” I told her. She splashed the water at me with her trunk, then went back to drinking the water. “What about … Tembo?” I said. “The name for elephant in Swahili.”  She trumpeted at the sound of the name, so I decided to call my new friend Tembo.

	Once Tembo had drank all the water she wanted, we headed back towards the hut. She walked by my side the whole time, occasionally stopping to look at me, as if to make sure I hadn’t left. 

	We were about halfway there when I saw a man with a giant gun, hiding behind a boulder. “Tembo.” I said, almost in a whisper. “Stay still.” She looked at me, but kept on walking. “Tembo!” I said, a little bit louder. “Don’t move!” But it was too late.

	  I heard a loud, sharp noise, and before she knew what was happening, Tembo fell to the ground.  “No!” I cried. I ran over to Tembo and saw a big bullet in the side of her leg. “Don’t move, girl.” I put one hand on her back to comfort her, and tried to get her to stand up. “I need to pull this out of your leg.”

	She struggled to get away, but eventually she let me touch the spot where the bullet had gone into her skin. When I first tried to pull it out, she tried to stand up, but fell over. She lay back down and I grabbed the end of the bullet, and tried to pull, but Tembo would kick, and try to get away. 

	“Stay still, Tembo!” She wouldn’t stop kicking. I tried pulling it out again. It was still stuck. I was starting to worry that it would be stuck in her leg forever. I pulled it one more time, hoping this time it would at least start to come out. I wiggled it loose. I pulled again, harder. It was almost out. I pulled it one last time. Finally, it came out. 

	Now Tembo was bleeding.  She tried to stand up, but I had to force her to stay down. I ripped off a piece of my pant leg, and tied it around her wound. It helped stopped the bleeding a little bit, but not much. 

	She had trouble standing up on to her leg at first. She would try many times to stand up, usually falling back to the ground. She was weak from loosing so much blood. Finally, she steeped up on to her leg, and tried to find her balance.   

	Once Tempo had gotten steady, we walked very slowly back to the hut. When we had arrived, I led her to the water pump, where I cleaned her wound with water. “There you go, Tembo.” I said, when it was all clean. I had wrapped gauze loosely over it.

	That evening, I made a pile of wild grass and straw for Tembo to sleep on, and to help heal her leg. While she rested by the hut, I went out to find information on the endangered mountain zebra. I packed up my camera and my binoculars, and I headed off into the grasslands, where I made some important zebra observations.

	When I got back from the mountains, the sun was setting, and it was almost dark. Tembo was curled up under a big tree, and she was sleeping. I slowly crept past her and went inside of the hut to go to sleep.

	Later the next morning, Tembo’s leg was starting to get better. I cleaned up the wound again, and covered it in more gauze. Tembo could walk on her leg again, but she was still acting sad, and I knew- 
 She needed a home. A real home. For elephants.

	It was Friday, and it was time to go back to my home in New York. I was sad to leave Tembo, and I knew she would miss me. When I had packed up my bags, and gathered all of my things, I got into my truck, and started the long drive to the airport in Tanzania.

	 Tembo followed close to the truck, not wanting to leave my side. She would usually stay right behind the truck, and she would wrap her trunk around the license plate, running to catch up with me like baby elephants hold on to their mother's tails.

	 Sometimes she would fall far behind the old truck, but she did catch up. We were just about halfway to the airport, when we came up to a big herd of elephants, crossing the plains. I smiled. This was Tembo’s chance to become a wild animal again. 

	“Tembo,” I said to my baby elephant. “You need to follow that herd, and be an elephant again.” She looked at me, as if she were about to cry. “Tembo,” I said, louder. “You need to leave.” I hugged the elephant, and pointed to the herd. As if she understood, she lifted her trunk, and put it out in front of me. I touched it with my hand, and with one trumpet, she ran off into the herd of elephants.