Conservation: Blood, Sweat and Tears
On the plains of Africa stands a tall man – well camouflaged in the dry grasslands – looking over a solemn landscape charred by the afternoon sun. He is backed by two of his colleagues who are looking as intently as he is. They are carrying loaded guns held cautiously over their shoulders, scanning the horizon. Sweat trickles down their brow as they stand motionless in the simmering fields. In the distance lays a wounded white rhinoceros, its leg crushed in a trap set up by poachers. Bleeding profusely, the rhinoceros has given up the struggle to set itself free. Only escape is death, which is unfortunate. The watchful guards have already called a veterinarian and a team of rescuers, as they scan the surrounding area for poachers, who as well are keeping an eye on the dying rhino. The poachers have no remorse. No pity. Their fears died long time ago, and there is no room for tears. It is a common event in the life of a forest guard in Africa, in India or elsewhere. A battle that is