just a wonderfully handsome man standing in the doorway. this is robert beaumont - 40, with an irresistable smile. we're in his office and the place reflects the man - clean, cold. there are maps and charts on the walls. he ushers patterson inside.
patterson, as he realizes beaumont is serious. beaumont turns sharply and moves to a large map.
the map. it covers a great deal of east africa with a very clear line that ends at lake victoria, a distance of some 600 miles.
a more detailed map. this one ends at "tsavo," 130 miles in.
a railway station, immediately after
helena patterson, hurrying through the crowd. early 20s, with the kind of serene beauty of jean simmons. she is still slim, has not begun to show. she spots him, puts a smile on, goes straight into his arms.
helena. she hates it, too.
the train, and thick clouds of steam-
nigel starling, running as best as he can alongside the train, trying to pull himself up onto the engine seat.
starling coughing like crazy, hands over his face which is caked with dust- he and patterson stare out at an absolutely dreary desert.
the two of them, bent over, arms covering their faces as the dust gets worse- a wind has kicked up.
the train, trying to make it up a steep grade. still later.
inside a railroad car, early evening.
patterson. waking in the car, rubbing his eyes. it's dawn.
something special- and what it is, of course, is patterson's first view of the africa of his imagination.
patterson and starling, back outside in the engine seat again. starling points-
what he's pointing at: some giraffes running along, their absurd shape suddenly graceful as they eat up the ground in incredibly long strides.
patterson and starling, staring out.
a family of hyenas. close by, loping in their scary way.
starling studying patterson. clearly, he didn't know that, either.
some hippos moving along. starling turns to patterson.
a bunch of impoverished-looking native women. they hold children who wave at the passing train. the children are more impoverished looking than their mothers.
patterson and starling as they step off the train.
patterson and samuel, starting to walk. they pass the water tower.
the railroad tracks as the camera pans along.
the river in the distance as they walk toward it.
the distance. nothing can be made out clearly but there are great clouds of dust.
patterson. close up. excited.
doctor david hawthorne. a tough, middle-aged cockney. and a heavy drinker. a man who hasn't been tactful in twenty years.
a nervous orderly who approaches them. he has been freshly bandaged across one shoulder.
patterson. listening. no emotion on his face.
hawthorne. he's kind of enjoying this. bearing down.
starling, sipping his tea and there's no hiding it, he's excited. but also a bit reluctant.
patterson, grabbing him.
starling, not pleased with this news. he massages his calf, tries to get comfortable, which is impossible. patterson just stares at the night.
patterson and starling standing on the high ground where the embankment will start. from here, there is a slope down to the river itself.
the river as they scramble down to it.
the slope they've come down- it's a long way back to the top.
the three men. it's a glorious morning.
singh. almost embarrassed.
singh. he smiles back, starts to reply. but his words stop, his smile dies. he just stares and we-
what he's staring at- the surrounding field of tall grass. nothing unusual about it.
patterson. he stares, too.
the field of tall grass- suddenly it begins to bend and sway in a fresh wind.
patterson. silent. as before. starling follows his glance.
singh. frozen.
the field. and now the field is making odd patterns- as if something unseen were moving through.
patterson. quiet. just the wind.
the field. nothing visible. but the odd pattern seems to be making its way across the field.
singh and starling. quiet. just the wind.
the field. the odd pattern seems to stop. around it, the wind makes different shapes of the grass.
patterson, as the wind continues to blow. he continues to stare at the spot where the pattern stopped.
singh. as before. except for one thing: suddenly, he begins to shiver, as if from cold.
tons of red rock- being shoved into the wooden skeleton to complete the embankments. as this goes on-
patterson and samuel in the river- the foundation pillar work is going very quickly.
several nandi tribesmen as they rise out of the grass, gesture to samuel who gestures back. the nandi are a tribe of powerful little men, primitive, with teeth that have been sharpened to points.
patterson and samuel watching them.
the nandi tribesmen, staring at patterson, shaking their heads.
the two embankments, as more and more red rock is shoved and pushed into shape.
the three foundation pillars- almost finished.
the roadbed. the same.
the near embankment as still more rock is forced in and
the far embankment done at last-
-and singh stands on the top of the near one while across the river, patterson pulls starling to the top of the other.
singh, going into his tent, lying down, breathing deep.
starling is in his tent, turning out his lamp, half asleep already.
patterson in his tent, closing his eyes.
singh, deep asleep in his tent-
singh. close up. screaming.
the other men in the tent, waking, staring around and
singh as he slides out of the tent into the night and his screams grow even louder as we
the other men in the tent and it's like a bomb just went off, they rise, spin, cry out, stare-
the night outside and singh's body sliding along the ground. it's pitch black, and he's going head first now, face upwards and he's going ast tremendous speed and whatever the hell it is that's making this happen is something we can't make out- because it's so dark and because it's on the far side of the man, and his body is in our way and
up ahead, some bushes and
singh, his body going faster than before and his cries are weakening-
up ahead now, a low clump of bushes.
singh's body, coming closer and
the bushes and as we get in on them we can tell they are thorn bushes and now-
singh, suddenly rising magically in the night, his body flying over the bushes and gone!
patterson and starling, early morning, their rifles held in front of them, racing along, suddenly stopping, staring down and
the ground. at first we can't make out much. then we can- a spot of red.
patterson and starling, hurrying on again.
thorn trees, and as they force their way through them-
a large vulture, wings spread wide as it floats slowly to earth-
patterson, cries out in shock and fury, fires his rifle, races forward.
the vultures screeching and screaming, taking off, and as we watch them soar into the morning sky-
abdullah in tears. where are we?
the flames; they continue to rise.
patterson, the middle of the night. he is alone, fifteen feet up in a tree near singh's tent. he holds his rifle, ready for anything. he cannot get comfortable.
the area- nothing, no movement.
singh's tent. as before.
the area. no sign of movement of any kind. dead.
the moon. lower in the sky. the night is growing to a lose but there is still darkness.
patterson. battling fatigue- but now, for a moment, losing- his eyes, against his will, start to close, and as they do-
two huge yellow eyes. that's all we see, just the eyes and they are near patterson's tree and they are staring up at him and-
patterson, startled, grabbing his rifle more tightly, staring down and-
the huge yellow eyes- only they're gone.
patterson, blowing on his hands, looking toward the sky.
the sun, rising, the night done.
patterson, wrinkled and weary, frustrated and sore, walking back toward his tent area. now he stops.
abdullah and a large group of workers- only they're not working. they smoke, play cards, sit around.
patterson, steaming, going up to abdullah.
patterson. rocked. he didn't know. behind him now, starling hurries up, samuel alongside.
a bunch of workmen, led by samuel, chopping down branches. they do it with care- these are claws-
-starling, in charge of another area, and he's not hanging back, he's taking less care than the others, hacking away with his machete, moving in between bushes and
one of the bushes, snapping back into starling, and starling taking the blow with his arms- the claws cut his clothing-
patterson, leaving his tent area, lost in thought, going toward the bridge. up ahead is a grassy area.
patterson. did he see it? we'll never know.
starling, in charge of a thorn fence that is halfway finished. his clothes are shredded. a worker has finished with a section and satisfied, moves on-
the sun. falling out of the sky.
the camp. the fires rise higher. no one moves.  hold.
starling in the main tent area. he is bathing his bloody hands. samuel is with him. both are exhausted.
starling. as good natured as ever.
patterson, the next morning, working with abdullah and some others at the bridge.
starling completing work on the fence from the day before. it's high and taut and he's done a terrific job.
patterson wading into the river- he stops as the sound of the chant comes distantly to him on the wind.
the workmen chanting louder. it's turning into a stunner of a day- glorious blue sky broken up by pale clouds.
starling. pauses briefly, listening to the sound of the men.
the men working and singing. as before.
the grassy field. as before-
the men working, singing on.
patterson waist deep in the river, listening to the sound of the men, of the birds. the sun is higher in the sky.
patterson wading out of the river as samuel comes into view. he holds an envelope.
starling, probing at the thorn fence, searching out any last weaknesses.
the singing men, getting more and more into it.
patterson, by the river, reading the letter.
helena, in their bedroom, moving across to the window, staring out. she now has a considerable stomach.
patterson by the river. he smiles, folds the letter. now-
the singing workmen at tsavo station- and they sense how good they sound, and they really concentrate on it, on making that sound even better-
patterson, turning his head sharply and
starling, doing the same and
the screaming workmen and they're running now, running and shrieking and that's all we see, the workmen-
a fat coolie running and running, glancing back, screaming louder, running on and on and
-a shadow in the grass- no telling what- but it's big and it's moving and
the fat coolie and this next goes so fast it could be a dream- or, more accurately, a nightmare-
patterson and samuel, as they race away from the river and
starling, running from the fenced area- he holds a rifle in his hands.
anoter part of the camp and a different bunch of workmen- they freeze as the screams reach them and
patterson, on the way to his tent area and
different workmen listening in fear and
patterson, racing to his tent, grabbing his rifle and cartridges and
starling, running toward the screaming and
patterson, as he charges ahead, loading his rifle on the fly and
samuel, carrying more ammunition, running behind patterson, keeping up and
tsavo station and nothing is visible now- the men are gone and from this angle, it looks deserted and
patterson, catching starling, leading him into the tsavo station area, samuel just behind them.
a rectangular shed, ahead of them. they move to it, slow-
patterson, checking his rifle.
starling, doing the same. samuel, holding the extra ammunition, moves close to patterson. now-
patterson as he suddenly steps away from the shed, rounding the corner and as he does-
the white lion, with the fat coolie- the lion is crunching at his feet-
patterson, moving out into clearer view, starling and samuel right with him. the lion is a good distance away.
the white lion, a low growl coming from him as he takes the coolie's body by the shoulder, begins backing away with it.
patterson, dropping to his knees for the shot and
starling, doing the same and
the white lion, growling louder and
patterson, taking aim and
samuel, crying out and pointing and suddenly we're into super slow motion-
the sun, blocked out as this dark thing moves across it, fully stretched, it seems to go on forever and
patterson, turning around to see and
starling, turning too, and we're coming back into regular motion now as we
this enormous black-maned lion diving into the three, sending them all sprawling and
the white maned lion roaring and
the black maned lion roaring, running to the other and
patterson, lying in pain, dazed, shoulder bleeding, trying to reach for his rifle and
the ghost and the darkness, the white and the black, as they move toward the field of tall grass, roaring and
samuel, lying in pain, his leg is bleeding and
patterson's rifle and
patterson, as he reaches it, manages to lift it and the roaring sounds are deafening now and
the two gigantic males, backing into the tall grass-
patterson, gun ready to fire but it's futile and he knows it as we
the tall grass and they're gone, the grass is full of moving patterns from the wind- that's all we see- just the grass blowing this way, that way-
patterson, staggering to his feet, staring at the grassy field.
samuel. dazed too. he points. patterson registers, turns and
starling, lying dead, his throat ripped open. hold briefly on the young man, then-
patterson, moving in on abdullah now-
abdullah. quiet, staring after patterson.
samuel. patterson has won. as the two of them exchange a quick glance-
beaumont standing in the door of a passenger car, handsome as ever. somehow his clothes are still pressed.
abdullah and his workmen, moving away from the train- they are singing the same song that the workmen sang just before the ghost and the darkness attacked- it's pretty- but it's also a little unnerving.
beaumont. listening a moment.
patterson. he and samuel share another glance.
beaumont; almost longingly looks back at the train.
patterson and samuel. they do not breathe.
beaumont. he really wants to leave and for a moment it looks like he just might.
beaumont. he takes a step inside the passenger car.
patterson and samuel. hoping.
beaumont. reluctantly returning. he has a large box.
beaumont. his eyes flick from one man to the other. it's over.
patterson. the jig is up. he gestures-
half a dozen natives carrying starling's coffin. they start to put it on the train and as they do-
beaumont. stunned. and furious! he storms off the train and we-
beaumont. a deadly look at them. he storms off.
hawthorne. doing his best.
something very odd:
the railroad car. there is, in fact, an open front door. patterson gestures for beaumont to follow him inside.
inside the car as they enter. it has been divided in half by thick metal bars from floor to ceiling. the bars are close together, only a few inches between them.
the two of them. they move outside. the tension between them is considerable. beaumont looks at patterson for too long a moment.
beaumont. blazing.
samuel. moving up to patterson. samuel has a bag.
the doorway. outside, something is moving.
patterson, rifle ready, holding his breath.
the doorway. silence. nothing moves now.
patterson. he rubs his eyes with his hands.
flickering shadows on the wall. it's later that night.
patterson. the man is bleary with fatigue. he sits in a corner of the car, writing a letter.
the flickering walls of the railway car. it's later still. patterson, finished writing, stares out at the night.
a flare, rising brightly toward the sky.
patterson, seeing the flare. the man is miserable.
another flare going off in another part of camp.
patterson, in a tree alone, in despair.
patterson moving high into a tree. he listens to the sound. lovely.
moonlight on the water. the men stand as before, singing softly. the river here is calm, no current to speak of. the men are safe-
the darkness swimming softly, his great jaws silently encircling the neck of the last man in line, pulling him silently away and as the others start to scream-
patterson, watching another flare rise, helplessly listening.
the three coolies, the brothers, in the contraption, two of them asleep, a flickering lamp the only illumination in the railroad car and
the door of the railroad car slamming loudly down and
the darkness, and this incredible roar comes from his throat, the kind of roar that can be heard five miles away in the night but this one in the enclosed room sounds even louder and more terrifying and
the darkness, throwing his huge body at the bars and
the bars and both his front claws are slashing through and
the three tough coolies and they retreat against the rear wall of the car.
the darkness, rage building, throwing its body at the bars again and
the coolies, pressed in fear against the far wall, unable to do anything but stare and
the claws, ripping at the air and
the darkness, leaping forward, smashing into the bars and
the ceiling where the bars are connected and the sheer power of his leap has made them jiggle just the least bit and
the coolies, staring up at the ceiling and
the darkness, and here he comes again, roaring and his body hits the bars and
the ceiling- and the bars shake-
the tough coolies, as they begin to realize this and
the darkness, clawing for them and
the darkness, raging and roaring on his side of the bars and
the first coolie, raising his gun and
the second coolie, his gun raised too and
the third coolie and he's ready and
the railroad car- and suddenly the lamp is knocked over-
the darkness at the bars-
the coolies staring up at this giant thing, and of course they're more terrified now than they've ever been in their lives- but these are tough men and they ignore the flames, ignore the deafening roars of the beast and
the darkness, standing there, going crazy on his side of the bars, trying to knock them down but they're holding and
the tough coolies, reloading and
the darkness, racing around the enclosed area now and he's trapped and the flames make him seem like something unalive and his eyes have never been so bright, his roars as deafening and
the three coolies, firing again and
the darkness, leaping at the bars again, and they shake, sure they shake, but they keep on holding and
the coolies, firing, reloading, firing, reloading and as they do, something's starting to come clear-
the darkness, whirling on his side, roaring and leaping and
the coolies and sure they fire, but they're still so goddam scared and
the door that slid down- it's held in place by some thick wooden bars-
the darkness, whirling, leaping at the bars and
the coolies firing and then-
the door as it flops open and just like that-
the darkness. out the door and gone. hold.
abdullah, simmering, moving straight to patterson as soon as he's out.
the bush just beyond- something is moving- an animal?- impossible to say.
abdullah. close up. his eyes widen.
abdullah, staring at redbeard. right now redbeard just could be.
redbeard, and now he does another surprising thing: embraces samuel.
samuel turning to redbeard and patterson.
samuel, who just breaks out laughing.
a masai village as they approach. redbeard walks ahead.
redbeard and patterson watching as samuel tells the chief.
the masai chief. he moves toward redbeard and patterson. as he speaks, samuel translates quietly. there is a sadness in the chief's tone.
patterson, watching as redbeard replies.
where we are- it's patterson's tent area. patterson, redbeard, hawthorne, and samuel sit around a fire.
redbeard. close up. he stares at the fire. then-
the campfire. silence for a moment except for the sound of the weapons being reassembled. redbeard's hands fly. his rifle is back together. he stands, nods, goes.
hawthorne, watching him.
the thicket again- alive with thorn trees. dark, filled with long dark shadows.
redbeard and patterson and samuel. a lot of tension.
the warriors as redbeard goes to them-
the warriors, spreading apart.
the sun. starting to appear more strongly on the horizon.
patterson, running like hell.
the warriors, moving quickly, silently.
patterson, ducking his head, blasting through.
the warriors, starting to cover the entire width of the thicket.
patterson, quickstepping over rocky terrain.
samuel staying close to redbeard. the fear is there.
redbeard, studying the position of the warriors, who are almost ready.
patterson, circling now, racing toward a clearing, picking up speed.
the warriors, spread out. they look to redbeard.
redbeard. not yet.
patterson, racing into the clearing, glances around- lots of anthills.
an anthill, eight feet high. it casts a long shadow.
patterson. holding hawthorne's marvelous rifle, he slips silently into the shadow.
samuel, screaming too and
the whole line of warriors, suddenly moving forward, all of them shouting and screaming and pounding on their drums and it is loud.
patterson in the shadow. the noise is faint- but he can hear it.
a dozen drummers, moving forward, banging away.
a dozen more drummers, even louder.
redbeard, moving forward, his eyes flicking ahead-
the thicket ahead. nothing. no movement. no lion.
patterson. just the least bit louder now.
the whole line of warriors, screaming and pounding and
samuel- the fear worse, dogging redbeard's steps.
redbeard. his eyes flicking ahead.
the thicket ahead. nothing. no movement. no lion.
patterson. it's a lot louder now. he's totally still. and he's ready.
the densest part of the thicket we've seen yet.
the warriors, slashing their way through, drumming and shouting and
redbeard, at their head, eyes, as always, flicking.
the thicket ahead. nothing. no movement. no lion.
redbeard- starting to suddenly get louder and point-
redbeard and the warriors and it's all going crazy now, and they're starting to move faster and
redbeard and the warriors and the movement up ahead is more distinct and the warriors are almost in a frenzy as we
a flash of the ghost in the thicket- eyes bright- it starts to move away from the sound-
redbeard. faster, screaming louder and
samuel and the fear starting to leave and he screams louder too and
patterson- he fingers the weapon.
the ghost, angrily retreating faster from the sound- and now instead of going straight back it begins to veer left and
redbeard, immediately spotting the shift, gesturingto the warriors to get left and
the warriors, shifting over as redbeard directed, blocking the ghost's intended path and
the ghost, shifting, trying to go the other way this time and
redbeard; he spots that too, gestures for the warriors to shift the other way and
the warriors, racing to thier new positions, blocking the animal's path again and
the ghost, rattled, upset, and now it starts retreating back in the original direction- toward patterson and
redbeard and the whole long line of men, and it's as if mass hysteria has gripped them, because their sound keeps building and sure, their throats must ache and yes, their arms must tire, but you couldn't tell that from what they're doing-
patterson. waiting by the anthill. waiting. then, at last-
the ghost, backing into view, staring back at the sound, unaware of patterson's existence behind him.
patterson. noiselessly he steps away from the anthill into the sunlight. he raises hawthorne's gun.
the ghost, backing toward patterson.
patterson, sighting along the glistening barrel.
the ghost, starting to turn.
patterson, ready to fire.
the ghost in close up, caught in the crosshairs of the rifle. and now its lips go back as it sees patterson.
patterson, close up, and this is it, this is the moment and as he squeezes the trigger-
patterson and the ghost, and a totally unexpected sound- a dull snap- hawthorne's rifle has misfired.
the ghost, unharmed and
patterson desperately workingthe rifle, trying to make it function and
the ghost. it stares at patterson.
patterson, and the goddamn gun won't work and he's a dead man and
redbeard as he hears it, breaking into a wild run-
patterson standing his ground as now the ghost takes a step toward him.
redbeard, firing, reloading on the move, and up ahead is the clearing and as he reaches it-
the ghost. its great head turns in the direction of redbeard and
redbeard's position- anthills block him from getting a clear shot at the animal- he curses, races for a better position and
the ghost. one final stare at patterson-
patterson. close up. rocked.
samuel, catching up to redbeard.
redbeard. trying for control.
redbeard. close up. for a moment it's impossible to tell what he's going to do. it seems that a homeric burst of fury is about to happen.
patterson. drained, he epects it. it's very quiet.
reedbeard, studying the younger man. and when he finally speaks, his voice is surprisingly quiet.
redbeard, checking security in the new hospital which is close to the center of camp. late afternoon, now.
patterson and redbeard. darker. they empty still more full buckets of blood. redbeard seems pleased.
samuel and hawthorne, hurrying toward their camp.
patterson and redbeard, leading masai cattle into the grounds of the old hospital.
the orderlies in the new hospital, firmly closing and locking the gate.
patterson and redbeard, just outside the fence of the old hospital- they carry many large chunks of raw meat, drop them as they move.
the sun. dying.  dying.
patterson and redbeard. they slip inside the deserted old hospital, pull the gate securely shut.
the cattle. they stand in the center of the old hospital, calling to each other.
the new hospital. full. clean. the men are exhausted. most are already asleep. the orderlies sit by a fire, alert for anything.
the old hospital. patterson and redbeard stand across from their fire, waiting. the cows are quiet.
hawthorne by his fire near his tent with samuel. nervously, they drink tea.
the moon. higher. an hour has passed. perhaps more.
redbeard. walking the fence perimeter.
patterson. the cows are edgy. he calms the cows.
outside the old hospital. the large chunks of meat are visible in the moonlight.
the new hospital. the orderlies are calm.
redbeard, still walking the perimeter.
patterson sitting by the fire, staring at the night. redbeard moves to him, speaks in a whisper.
the new hospital. the orderlies tend the sick. quietly.
the night and the moon. lovely.
redbeard. stalking the perimeter. no sound. the night is deadly quiet.
patterson. he stalks the perimeter now too, on the far side from redbeard- and suddenly a different and frightening sound- the ripping of flesh-
redbeard looks across the perimeter at patterson. whatever's going on, it's sure as hell odd.
the cattle- they are very upset suddenly- one of them kicks out violently against the night- the same gesture the cattle did just before the ghost walked through their pen and killed one-
patterson and redbeard tracking the sound-
the gate. more pressure against it- it could give way any moment.
redbeard and patterson and from the look on redbeard's face, this is it! patterson seees this, readies his rifle and we-
the cattle, going nuts and then-
the gate. all pressure gone.
patterson and redbeard. patterson is furious.
redbeard; he studies patterson who so clearly craves redemption.
the second orderly rounding a corner, seeing the violence; before he can scream-
the ghost and the darkness suddenly beside him, and their giant paws slap out so fast we can't follow and
the second orderly, dropping to the ground, and now we're starting to spin into madness and these next cuts go like lightning.
a tent full of sick men with malaria and
a paw flashing and
the darkness, lips pulling back and
a sick man, falling from his bed, blood pouring from his slashed face and
two more sick men, trying to rise and
the ghost, leaping on them and
the darkness, eyes narrow and brilliant and
a sick coolie, and he's terrified and he tries to scream-
the entire camp, night, with all the fires burning- and
patterson and redbeard, rifles ready- but no sound reaches them.
hawthorne, out of his tent, because he's close by and he heard it and he lights a torch, starts for the gate of the camp as samuel does his best to stop him-
a second tent, as it starts to collapse and
the medicine tent, as the ghost and the darkness enter and
medicine, flying across the tent and
glass, shattering and more medicine is destroyed and
a blizzard of cuts, of lions' claws and lions' teeth and those terrible bright blazing eyes and
a tent pole, being pulled out of the ground and
the ghost and the darkness and what they are doing is this: destroying the new hospital and
more tents collapsing and
the ghost and the darkness. close up. eyes crazed.
hawthorne alone in the night, scared shitless as he runs.
shadows, moving, as hawthorne's torch lights the surroundings and
hawthorne, heart pounding, looking around and then he gasps as we
the area nearby- two large eyes are staring at him.
hawthorne, panicked, stumbling, falling, getting up, staring around-
the area around him- the eys are gone-
redbeard and patterson, grabbing torches, throwing the gate open and they're off as we
hawthorne, running toward the new hospital just up ahead now.
patterson and redbeard, tearing through the night.
the new hospital. the tents are all down. the place is devastated.
inside the first tent. filled with the dead and the dying.
hawthorne. ashen. moving on.
hawthorne. he's crushed. his body sags. he takes a breath, his last.
patterson and redbeard as the roar reverberates- they glance at each other-
redbeard, close up, staring at the disaster.
patterson. and he does move. slowly. carefully. into the chaos.
the camp as patterson walks through. a ghost town now. only africans remain.
the contraption where the coolies missed the darkness. patterson looks at it a moment, walks on.
the anthill in the clearing where patterson misfired. patterson looks at it a moment, walks on. and now, at last-
patterson's tent area. one or two africans. samuel darts into his tent, emerges with something, holds it out to patterson.
the two of them as they make it over the cliff face. they stand, stare out.
what they see: the world. they move on.
a ravine. they are moving along the edge. it's tricky going- if you fell you wouldn't much like it. they are both concentrating on their movements, paying no attention to each other as redbeard starts to speak. they don't stop moving.
patterson and redbeard working their way up a steep ravine. it's hard going. they help each other.
patterson and redbeard, moving along the edge of the ravine now. slow. silent. redbeard stops, points-
a tangle in the bushes and thorns with one odd thing about it: there is a clearly defined archway, as if a buffalo or rhino used it as a regular passage.
the two of them at the archway. they look at each other, without a word move through it.
the other side. a small clearing. and at the end of the clearing: a cave.
the cave mouth. dark.
redbeard and patterson. they each check their guns, move toward it.
the cave mouth. closer. suddenly it's getting eerie.
redbeard, moving slowly, patterson right with him.
the cave mouth. they're by it- redbeard squints inside.
what he sees: it's dark and dangerous and there is a long low tunnel you have to half-crawl through.
redbeard and patterson, crouched low, moving through the tunnel. ahead there is light. they move on.
the end of the tunnel- they can see the cave beyond.
redbeard and patterson. they glance down. nothing much there- just a copper bracelet, the kind a native might wear.
patterson and redbeard, moving deeper into the cave. it's scary- dark with shafts of light coming from cracks in the rock. it's dank. it all feels as at any moment, the world could end.
redbeard. close up. thunderstruck-
the floor of the cave. more copper bracelets. and still more-
several tunnels, dark and ominous, leading from the cave-
redbeard and patterson as redbeard fires into the tunnel and the sound explodes-
redbeard and patterson. what the hell is it?
the tunnel- and here they come, screeching and angry-
patterson and redbeard, diving to the ground, lying there amidst the bangles and the bones and the skulls-
the bats. circling above them. screeching louder.
patterson and redbeard, lying very still, eyeless skulls all around, staring.
the bats. for a moment, it seems as if they might attack.
pattrson and redbeard. waiting, waiting. then-
the bats back into the tunnel and
patterson and redbeard, scrambling to their feet.
patterson and redbeard spin around, start back toward the entrance of the cave-
the low entrance tunnel as they scramble half-crawling through it.
outside as they make it, stand straight, look around-
thick bush beyond- another roar and sudden movement and
patterson and redbeard, entering the thick bush- but carefully, because they are vulnerable now and an attack could come from anywhere- there is the sound of water-
patterson and redbeard. they look around. nothing is there. but the spot is wide open, exposed.
the darkness- who knows where it is but it's there-
dusk. the sun quickly beginning its quick fall.
the water tower in the station area. samuel is with the remaining men who clamber up to the platform on top.
the donkey in the clearing. quiet.
the plank as patterson makes it, clambers off the ladder, manages to sit.
the view. nothing is around the machan. he is totally vulnerable.
redbeard, taking the ladder down. patterson tries to get comfortable. he can't.
patterson. this registers. finally, he nods. redbeard starts to leave.
patterson. he is alone now.
shadows. growing longer.
samuel. on top of the water tower. the remaining men are with him.
the donkey. it peers around.
patterson. his fingers move slowly along his rifle barrel-
the edge of the clearing, a good distance away. a bunch of trees. nothing unusual.
the sun. about to die.
patterson, trying to get comfortable. it's not possible.
the donkey, tethered, but able to move.
patterson, testing the machan- not a good idea- it trembles. he stops, stares out at the setting sun, the light hitting his skin, giving it color.
the sun and here's the thing about africa- the sun doesn't just set, it literally drops out of the sky. suddenly it's bright and in a blink it isn't. as it drops-
patterson. close up. it's madness that he's up here. and he knows it. and that shows.
the sky. no moon. just thick cloud.
the donkey. quiet.
patterson. on his precarious perch. he scans constantly ahead of him past the donkey.
the thick bush beyond the donkey. nothing moves-
patterson. he swallows, moistening his throat. he stares down at the donkey.
patterson sitting there twelve feet up as the silence extends, listening for something, anything-
the donkey. it lies still and quiet.
patterson, looking around- you get the feeling he'd like to scream.
the bushes around him. the mist is getting stronger.
redbeard in his tree, cursing, trying to see through the growing mist.
patterson, listening, listening-
the donkey, and it's eyes widen-
what patterson sees: just mist and vaguely, bushes.
what the ghost sees: the donkey. and camera begins to move closer as the ghost moves, just the barest few steps closer.
patterson. still no sound- but beyond the donkey there seems to be some movement in the bushes.
what the ghost sees: the donkey, very, very close-
patterson. squinting desperately at the area beyond the donkey but the mist is so thick, he can't make certain of anything.
what the ghost sees: the donkey.
patterson. involuntarily, a shiver.
what the ghost sees: patterson, but the angle shifts-
patterson, following the whispered sound of the bushes moving. he half turns the other way quickly, making sure that nothing is behind him.
what the ghost sees: patterson shifting as the angle continues to change.
patterson as the realization hits: the beast doesn't care about the donkey anymore, it's stalking him.
redbeard. in the tree. the mist obscures everything.
what the ghost sees: patterson. still circling, still closer.
patterson, and it's scary now, this thing circling and circling, always closer, never visible and his throat is dry and you know he's just dying to blast it with his weapon or scream for it to do anything but this constantly circling movement.
what the ghost sees: patterson, always the circling around.
patterson, trying to turn on his shaky plank, trying to never to let the animal's position out of his sight.
what the ghost sees: patterson. closer.
patterson, staring, staring at the goddamn mist, about to come apart now with the tension as it builds and builds and builds and
what the ghost sees: patterson. closer.
patterson, gripping his weapon tightly as his head keeps on turning.
what the ghost sees: patterson. closer.
patterson, suddenly yelling out loud as an owl lands on him- that's right, a goddamn owl landed on him, thinking he was a tree, almost knocking him off the plank and
what the ghost sees: patterson, starting to slip off the platform and
patterson, fighting the owl away, but his balance is going and he's trying not to fall and
what the ghost sees: patterson, beginning to topple off and
patterson, helpless, balance going, going-
the ghost, starting to charge forward and christ he can move and as he starts his leap-
redbeard, racing from the tree to the edge of the clearing, firing his rifle, firing again and
the ghost, as this incredible roar comes from him, and he spins, lands, and sure, he's been hit but he's gone, back into the bushes and the night has him and
sudden dawn and patterson and redbeard, running, stopping, staring at the ground-
the ground. blood.
patterson and redbeard, moving quickly forward again-
the ground. more blood and.
the two of them, starting to slow-
strange terrain- huge anthills all over, the tallest we've seen, some of them fifteen feet high, some even higher.
patterson and redbeard. they separate, take different paths through the anthills.
redbeard. alert. one step at a time.
patterson. the same. one step at at time.
the ghost. crouched high up behind one of the biggest anthills, staring down at them both.
redbeard. he gestures for them to stop. they do. for a moment they might be statues.
the rocky ground. spots of blood. redbeard kneels to examine them and as he does-
the ghost, launched in mid-air and
patterson, whirling, falling, firing and as the sound detonates-
the ghost, in mid-air, body twisted and-
samuel, walking into the shot-
the ghost- and now there's a flash of light as we
a photographer; loads of bulky equipment. patterson and redbeard stand behind him, watching him. we're in a lovely spot by the river. patterson and redbeard have definitely been drinking.
the mouth of the ghost- it is huge-
redbeard suddenly giving a loud imitation of a lion roaring and
beaumont, surprised and frightened-
the station master at tsavo station, working in his office. the
helena standing there in tsavo; she looks weary from travel, but still lovely. she holds their son in her arms. the kid is adorable.
patterson at the bridge- samuel hurries to him with the news- patterson takes off running and
tsavo station and helena; she holds the sleeping child, walks back and forth along the shaded front of the building, no sound at all but her heels.
patterson, running like crazy and up ahead now is the station area.
helena- and now, in the distance, she sees him and she leaves the building, walks out into the open, smiling and waving excitedly and
patterson, excitedly waving back and
the darkness, moving out of the grassy area behind helena and
patterson, suddenly screaming "get back- back-"
helena, and she's too far away- his words are lost on the wind- she smiles again, waves again and
patterson, screaming now, all he has, "get back" and
helena, and she still can't make out what he's saying but just the same, she stops and
the darkness, stalking silently, closing on the mother and child.
helena, and the baby wakes, smiles and
the darkness, starting to run and
patterson and now it shows on his face- he's not going to get there, he's never going to get there-
helena, and at last she knows something is terribly wrong and she turns-
the darkness, flying toward her now and
patterson, in agony.
the darkness, leaping on them, taking them to the ground and as helena cries out helplessly-
patterson, crying out helplessly and
outside. it's dawn. patterson, shaken, tries to rid himself of the dream. he looks around.
inside the tent. it's empty. patterson stares around-
patterson running wildly, rifle in hand and
samuel, carrying a weapon, hurrying to keep up and
patterson, flying across rough terrain and as he and samuel splash across a small river, he gestures for them to split and they do, widening the area of search and
samuel, veering off and
thorn trees, as patterson rips through them, unmindful of the damage to his clothes or his skin and
more thorns- he plunges wildly ahead and
a large anthill- it seems to be casting an unusual shadow- patterson slows, rifle ready, takes a breath, moves around it-
patterson, tracking the sound- samuel's voice cries out again, louder-
a field of white grass. so lovely.
samuel. in shock, in despair, call it what you want- he has seen something beyond imagination.
patterson, rushing across the field of white grass, rushing to where samuel stands in the patch of blood red grass- he looks down into the grass-
patterson and samuel as they reach the crane tower platform, fifteen feet from the baboon.
the large baboon, baring its enormous teeth, shrieking out into the darkness.
patterson and samuel on the platform. samuel tosses a pebble toward the baboon and the baboon cries out again, not in pain but irritation-
patterson, tense, on the platform. middle of the night.
the sky. the moon. peaceful- then it turns bright yellow and frightening black clouds gather and
patterson, blinking, coming hard back to reality because the sky is not yellow nor were there black clouds- he's starting to hallucinate.
the river, raging and black and lethal.
patterson, hallucinating again.
patterson. firing-
-the darkness, and it's hit and it roars and goes down and-
-patterson, turning, reaching for samuel's rifle, grabbing it, turning back, ready to fire again-
the darkness- gone.
patterson and samuel, blinking, looking around.
where he's pointing. the superstructure for the bridge- it goes several levels beneath the level where the railroad will run.
where they are. at the end of the bridge where they began construction. the bridge, two thirds finished, stretches away before them.
they begin to walk the incomplete bridge.  carefully.
samuel. terrified. holding his rifle extremely tightly.
patterson. ready for anything.
the bridge up ahead of them. there are some holes.
patterson and samuel slowing.
the holes. the nearest one is the largest.
patterson. he goes on tiptoe, trying to see what's in the hole.
the hole. it seems empty.
patterson and samuel. one step forward. another. they hold their breaths.
the hole. it seems empty.
a shot from below bridge level- the darkness is there.
patterson, firing.
the darkness, going down through another level of scaffolding.
pattrson and samuel, trying to track it.
the scaffolding. nothing is visible.
patterson and samuel- frozen. they listen-
patterson, looking around everywhere.
the hole. nothing.
the first level of scaffolding. nothing.
the second level of scaffolding. nothing.
samuel, looking this way, that way.
patterson, turning for samuel's rifle-
patterson and he turns, starts running too, running across the narrow half-completed bridge and it's a bitch to do it without slipping or falling and
the darkness, wounded, sure, but the mother can still run and it takes off after patterson and
samuel, making it to the end of the bridge and jumping for the nearest tree and
patterson running for his life across the bridge and
the darkness, closing the gap and ordinarily patterson would be a dead man but even though the darkness hasn't got its ordinary speed, it's still faster than patterson and
patterson, and he's never gone this fast in his life and
the tree he's headed for, a different one from samuel's and it's just up ahead and
the darkness, closing and
the tree, and
the darkness, springing into the air now and
patterson, diving for the lowest branch, grabbing hold with both hands, swinging his body up as we
the darkness, barely missing as patterson gets his body onto the branch and now comes this insane roar and
samuel with his rifle, as he climbs higher into his tree.
patterson in the next tree, climbing higher, until he's fifteen feet up.
the darkness, on the ground, circling the trunk of patterson's tree, raging with frustration.
patterson, exhausted but it's okay now, he's safe, and as he looks across at the next tree not far away where samuel is-
the darkness, as it does this incredible thing- it starts to climb the tree after patterson. lions are cats and when they want to climb, up they go and that's what the darkness is doing now, going up and
patterson, and it's terrifying- he reaches for the branch above, climbing higher and
the darkness, climbing higher too and the tree is sturdy but there is a four hundred pound thing rocking it now and
patterson, going still higher but the branches are getting thinner and the tree is shaking, and he could fall-
the darkness, climbing on, nothing can stop it-
patterson and the darkness, together in the tree, and there's no further patterson can go and it's harder for the darkness too, but slowly it moves in and
patterson, calling out-
samuel, and he takes the rifle between his two hands and
the darkness, steadily moving in and
samuel, tossing the rifle with great care and patterson's less than fifteen feet away and
patterson, hands out to catch it and
the rifle in mid-air and
patterson, both hands ready and
the rifle as it strikes a tree branch, spins away to the ground.
the darkness, almost on patterson now and
patterson, suddenly leaping out of the tree, and yes it's a long way and sure it's going to damage him but sometimes there aren't a lot of choices in this world and
samuel, staring as patterson falls and
patterson, crashing hard to earth, stunned, hurt, ribs broken, leg broken and
the darkness, and it's so big it's hard for it to get room to turn but it does and
patterson crawling for the rifle, and he's in terrible pain but he reaches the weapon, grabs for it and
the darkness, skittering down the tree and as it reaches the ground
patterson, forcing himself to his feet and
the darkness, a dozen feet away as with a roar it starts its charge.
patterson, aims, fires and
the darkness, hit again and down it goes again but up it comes again and
patterson, firing the final shot and
the darkness, hit again and it has to stop, it just has to-
patterson; all bullets gone, no place to hide.
the darkness. still moving forward.
patterson. he takes a step backward, falls backwards over a branch, lands hard and
the darkness, framed between patterson's legs. six feet away, now four, now-
patterson, helpless on the ground.
the darkness, and the eyes glow-
patterson. can't breathe.
the darkness, dead, its teeth still buried in the tree branch.
patterson. close up. and suddenly he just empties and tears pour down his face and he begins to cry out loud, his body wracked with sobs. he manages to get to his knees, moves next to the animal-
patterson and the darkness. just the sound of patterson's tears.
patterson. he looks wonderful again, vibrant and young. watching him, you might think he hadn't been through the nightmare as he stands there, holding the boy tightly.