The rhino is targeted by a posse of pick-ups. The lead vehicle accelerates across the grassland, the driver slews to a halt and, standing in the back, I watch as a silver gun barrel pokes through the open window on the passenger side.
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The elephant urinated in a firehose gush and his mahout (driver/keeper) cheered. ‘See?’ he said in Lao, pointing at the torrent of water darkening the red-earth road. ‘It’s clear!’ The relief was infectious.
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The trail bike kicked up a plume of dust as it approached across the high desert steppe of south-west Mongolia. Orjan Johansson dismounted, unclipping the body protectors that made him look like the action hero of a computer game.
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