Pokémon: The Battle Ranch Chronicles

While Eva was introducing new trainers to their future life and David was battling the future champion of Orange Archipelago, Frank was out in the wilderness.

He and his trainee quietly moved through the wilderness, the younger man—whose name was Simon, a rookie ranger from Hoenn—was clearly filled with curiosity. He had come to Bohemia to gain more experience with the region's unique ecosystem and to learn from seasoned rangers. Frank, who hadn't seen his sister since the prince's departure, now found himself answering Simon's endless stream of questions as they stalked through the thick forest toward Donphan territory.

Simon had sandy-blond hair and a lean build, and his enthusiasm sometimes outpaced his experience. He asked about everything from tracking wild Pokémon to navigating the territory under the protection of the wild Donphan. His Pokéballs hung on his belt, but he hadn't yet called out any of his Pokémon, relying instead on Frank's more skilled team. Frank kept his three experienced Pokémon—Girafarig, Pyroar Deena, and Mightyena Summer—out of their Pokéballs, each playing a role in keeping their mission safe.

"How do you know where the herd's moving next?" Simon asked, his voice hushed, but eager.

Frank paused and pointed to the flattened grass ahead. "It's all about observation. Not just the tracks. There's more to it. Look at the broken twigs, the flattened patches. Donphan's herd moves in a straight line when they're migrating, but they slow near the rocky outcrops to the west."

Simon nodded, trying to follow Frank's lead, though he still struggled to see the signs as clearly.

They had been tracking for hours, and now they were perched behind a cluster of thick bushes, observing a herd of wild Sandslash and Sandshrew moving through the terrain. The creatures were rolling over the dirt, claws gleaming as they dug into the ground. Mightyena stood still, eyes locked on the herd, while Girafarig kept a watchful eye on their surroundings. Pyroar stayed close to Frank, her amber eyes scanning the area.

"So, what's the deal with Donphan's territory?" Simon whispered, looking around nervously.

"It's more about respect than control. Donphan doesn't tolerate intruders but lets the Pokémon in his domain do what they want, as long as they don't wander too far. When they do—like now—they cause trouble, which is why we're here."

"Did you ever battle that Donphan?" Simon asked, eyes wide.

Frank smirked. "Not me, but Donphan's battled with some other trainers in the past. Even Joe Lindenberg, who runs the Battle Ranch, was not able to defeat it with his Emboar."

"Wow, that must be some Donphan!" Simon gasped.

"Yeah, but it was a friendly match. The Donphan is quite friendly with people. But I'm afraid something is happening and I don't want to upset it."

The Sandslash herd moved steadily, their claws churning up the dirt as they fed, and Frank remained silent for a moment, watching. He knew he had to keep his attention sharp; even though he had been through this territory many times, the Pokémon were unpredictable.

Simon, ever curious, leaned closer. "What's the plan if they move toward the ranch?"

"Plan is to intercept. Keep them from crossing that boundary. If Donphan gets involved, we'll have to talk him down. He's a powerful creature, but we've got our own advantages."

Frank and Simon crouched low behind the bushes, quietly observing the herd of Sandshrew and Sandslash. At first glance, they seemed to be behaving normally—rolling through the dirt and digging into the ground as they usually would. But then Simon furrowed his brow, noticing something off.

"Hey, Frank," Simon whispered, "is it just me, or are they acting a bit strange?"

Frank's sharp eyes scanned the Pokémon. The normally coordinated movement of the Sandslash was sporadic, almost erratic. They seemed to be digging too aggressively, scratching at the earth as if something was wrong beneath the surface. A few Sandshrew were nervously twitching their ears, constantly on alert.

"You're right," Frank said, his voice low and tense. "Something's spooking them. They're normally more methodical, especially when they're this close to their grazing territory."

Simon glanced at Frank. "You think something's nearby?"

"Could be," Frank replied, standing up slowly. "Let's backtrack and see where they came from. Might give us some answers."

They moved quietly through the brush, tracking the Sandslash herd's path backward. Frank kept his team alert—Mightyena's keen senses could pick up on anything unusual, and Girafarig's tail twitched, its second head scanning the surroundings. Pyroar walked beside Frank, ready to defend her trainer if anything happened.

After a short hike, the forest thinned out, and they came upon a group of local lumberjacks working nearby, their large axes chopping at the trunks of sturdy trees. Beside them, a few Pokémon suited to woodworking tasks were hard at work. A Machoke hefted heavy logs, while a pair of Timburr carried smaller branches and debris. A Tangela hovered nearby, using its Vine Whip to bring the larger logs into neat piles.

Frank approached the group, nodding in greeting. "Morning, fellas."

The lumberjacks looked up, a few wiping sweat from their brows. The lead man, a burly fellow with a thick beard and a saw strapped to his back, smiled and waved. "Morning, Rangers. Everything alright?"

"We've been tracking a herd of Sandslash, but they've been acting a little off. You noticed anything strange around here?" Frank asked, glancing at the Pokémon helping with their work.

The lumberjacks exchanged glances, and one of them, a younger man, nodded. "Now that you mention it, yeah. The Sandslash have been skittish lately. I thought maybe it was the Donphan stirring things up again."

Another lumberjack chimed in, "There's been strange noises in the forest too. Could be Ghost-types, I reckon. We hear them all morning—crying, moaning sounds. Almost like they're trying to spook us."

Frank frowned, exchanging a glance with Simon. "Ghost-types, huh? Did you see anything?"

The bearded lumberjack shook his head. "No, we didn't see 'em. Just heard those strange cries. We thought it was the usual mischief. But maybe it's something else. Could be the Sandslash were scared by whatever was making that noise."

Frank's gut told him there was more going on. "How far back did you hear those cries?"

"Not too far, just a bit deeper in the woods, past that big oak tree over there," the younger lumberjack pointed. "Sounded like it was coming from around there."

Frank nodded. "Thanks. We'll check it out."

As Frank and Simon moved away from the lumberjacks, Simon looked over at him. "You think it's really Ghost-types messing with the Sandslash?"

Frank's expression was serious. "I don't know. But it doesn't sit right with me. We'll find out soon enough."

Frank gave a quick command, his voice low but firm. "Summer, Deena—search the area in the direction the lumberjacks mentioned. Girafarig, you stay on guard."

Summer, his Mightyena, with her sleek black fur and sharp eyes, took off with Deena, his Pyroar, right behind her. The lioness Pokémon moved with silent grace, her fiery mane barely disturbing the underbrush as they both caught the scent of something unusual. Simon trailed behind Frank, his nerves visibly heightened as they cautiously advanced.

The dense forest pressed in around them, thick with towering oaks and undergrowth. Frank and Simon followed Summer and Deena through the labyrinth of trees, making their way carefully. Frank's years of experience told him when to stop, when to crouch, and when to move forward, with the quiet assurance of someone who knew this territory inside and out. Simon, though a newbie, followed Frank's every move closely, learning as much from observation as he did from asking questions.

Along the way, they encountered several dangerous Pokémon, their presence lurking in the shadows. A pair of Ursaring grazed near a stream, their powerful claws slicing through the bark of trees. Frank held up a hand, signaling Simon to freeze. They waited, breath held, until the Ursaring lost interest in their surroundings and lumbered off deeper into the forest.

As they moved further, they noticed a large Rhydon slumbering near a large boulder, its tail flicking as it napped. Frank motioned to Simon to crouch lower, and they carefully navigated a path around the hulking creature, avoiding any sudden movements that might wake it.

After about an hour of weaving through the forest, with Summer and Deena leading the way, the gang approached a small clearing. Simon's ears perked up as they began to hear it—a strange noise, faint but unmistakable, drifting through the trees like a low, mournful cry. It wasn't quite natural. There was a rhythm to it, like something struggling or in pain.

Frank's eyes narrowed as they crept closer, moving through the final patch of dense brush. There, hanging from a tree in the middle of the clearing, was a sight that made Frank's blood boil. Suspended by ropes tied around its limbs was a shiny Sandslash—a rare, dazzling creature with glittering golden/red scales instead of the usual sandy brown. Its usually proud, spiked back was covered in dirt, and its bright, metallic claws hung limp. The Sandslash was clearly in distress, its claws twitching helplessly as it hung from the thick tree branch, swinging slightly in the breeze.

The shiny Sandslash was beautiful despite its dire condition, its brilliant golden body a stark contrast to the green canopy of the forest around it. Its glossy spines shimmered under the dappled sunlight, but its eyes were dull and panicked. The Pokémon was breathing heavily, letting out soft whimpering sounds—no doubt the source of the strange noise that had unnerved the herd of Sandshrew and Sandslash earlier.

Frank clenched his fists, fury rising within him. The scene was as cruel as it was calculated. "This is human work," he muttered under his breath, his voice tight with anger. "Someone used this Sandslash as bait, probably to lure in other rare Pokémon."

Simon's face was pale as he took in the sight. "That's why the others were so riled up, isn't it? They could hear this poor thing crying for help."

Frank nodded grimly. "Exactly. They were probably trying to get to it, but whoever did this made sure they couldn't. They've been driving the local Pokémon crazy."

The thought that someone had not only captured this rare Pokémon but strung it up like this infuriated Frank even more. His years of working with wild creatures had instilled in him a deep respect for Pokémon, and to see one treated this way was unacceptable.

"We'll need to be careful," Frank said, his tone low and controlled, despite his obvious rage. "Whoever did this could still be nearby. This is too deliberate to be random."

He signaled for Simon to stay close as they stealthily circled the clearing, moving from tree to tree, trying to assess the area without being seen. Summer and Deena moved alongside them, their ears pricked up and alert for any sign of danger. Frank's Girafarig stood at the edge of the treeline, keeping watch while they scoped out the surroundings.

As they moved silently around the clearing, Frank's mind raced. Whoever had done this was not just poaching—they were likely trying to capture something specific. The shiny Sandslash was rare and valuable, but the method felt more like a trap, designed to attract attention, perhaps to capture even larger prey.

Frank and Simon moved quietly, circling around the clearing where the tied-up shiny Sandslash hung helplessly. They crouched low, slipping through the thick underbrush, their movements slow and deliberate. Frank's years of experience showed in every step, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of human activity. Simon followed closely behind, his breathing steady but clearly tense, trying to stay as silent as possible.

Frank gestured to Deena, his Pyroar, with a sharp hand signal. He leaned close to her and whispered, "Odor Sleuth."

Pyroar

Level: 52 to 54

Name: Deena

Gender: Female

Type: Fire / Normal

Affinity: Normal (Full), Fire (Full), Grass (Beginner)

Moves: Tackle (49 to 50), Fire Fang (48), Echoed Voice (48), Flamethrower (45 to 49), Odor Sleuth (32 to 35), Crunch (31 to 32), Hyper Beam (20), Overheat (18), Protect (38), Solar Beam (42), Grass Knot (31 to 33), Snarl (30), Flame Charge (28), Wild Charge (20), Sunny Day (21), Will-O-Wisp (17), Yawn (15 to 25)

Abilities:

Rivalry – Deals more damage to the target of the same gender

Moxie – When Pyroar knocks out a target, it boosts its Attack

Weak to: Fighting, Rock, Water, (Ground)

Immune to: Ghost

Resistant to: Bug, Steel, Fire, Grass, Ice, Fairy

Weakness removed: Ground

The lioness Pokémon lowered her head and began sniffing the air, her sharp senses searching for any hidden threats—particularly ghost-types that might be lurking nearby, cloaked from view. Deena's eyes glowed faintly as her ability kicked in, attuned to even the most elusive presences. But no hidden danger was detected.

They continued to sneak around the clearing, moving through the large grass, which was tall enough to conceal them from view. The sound of the shiny Sandslash's whimpers grew fainter as they put distance between themselves and the clearing, their attention focused on finding any human presence. They had to be careful not to rustle the grass too much, avoiding the possibility of making noise.

After a few minutes of cautious movement, they came across another small clearing. This one was different. It wasn't just a natural opening in the forest—it had been used by humans. Boxes were stacked carelessly around the area, and several large cages stood in the middle, their doors hanging open. Some of the cages were empty, while others showed signs of recent use, with claw marks and tufts of fur still clinging to the bars. It was a clear sign that humans had been here, likely the same ones responsible for the shiny Sandslash's capture.

"Looks like a base camp," Simon whispered, his voice barely audible as he took in the sight.

Frank's face was grim. "Definitely. Poachers. They're capturing wild Pokémon here. This is bigger than I thought."

Just then, Summer, his Mightyena, gave a low growl, her sharp senses picking up something. Frank immediately tensed and placed a hand on Simon's shoulder, motioning him to stay low. Summer's keen nose had detected someone approaching. They needed to move quickly.

"We've got company," Frank muttered. "Back up, stay low."

They retreated a few steps, crouching even lower in the tall grass. Frank motioned to Deena and Summer to stay quiet as they moved into position. Just in time, too. A group of about ten people emerged from the opposite side of the clearing, their heavy boots crunching the ground beneath them as they dragged a knocked-out Pinsir behind them. The massive Bug-type's limp form was unceremoniously pulled across the dirt, its large pincers scraping the ground as the poachers shoved it toward one of the empty cages.

Frank's eyes narrowed as he watched the men work. They were rough and careless, treating the captured Pokémon like nothing more than cargo. One of the men—a large, broad-shouldered guy with a tattoo creeping up his neck—grunted as they forced the Pinsir into the cage. Another man, smaller and wiry, was laughing as he secured the cage door with a heavy lock.

"We got another one!" the wiry man called out to the others, clearly pleased with their haul.

"Yeah, they're gonna pay us good money for bug this strong!" another grunt replied.

Frank and Simon stayed hidden in the tall grass, watching the scene unfold. The poachers milled around the clearing, some checking the boxes while others set up what looked like equipment for capturing even more Pokémon. Frank's heart pounded in his chest as he realized how well-organized this group was. This wasn't just a few rogue hunters—this was a full-scale poaching operation.

"We need to figure out how many of them there are," Frank whispered to Simon, his voice tense but calm. "And then we need a plan. We can't take them head-on with just the two of us."

Simon nodded, his expression serious as he took in the situation. "What do we do?"

"We back up a little more, stay hidden. We need to get a clearer picture of what we're up against. But first, I want to get that shiny Sandslash down from that tree. It's drawing too much attention, and I don't want them using it as bait for something even worse."

They slowly retreated further into the undergrowth, away from the clearing filled with boxes and cages. As they moved, Frank's mind raced with potential strategies. This was no ordinary mission—these poachers were dangerous, and he had to tread carefully. But one thing was clear: he wasn't leaving without freeing that Sandslash.

Frank turned to Simon with a glint in his eye, a plan quickly forming. "Let's use their bait against them," he whispered, his voice firm but low. Simon glanced at him with a mixture of curiosity and tension, waiting for more instructions.

Frank wasted no time. He looked to his trusted Girafarig and gave a sharp nod. "Girafarig, prepare to Teleport all of us—back to the first clearing with the Sandslash. Stay quiet, and stay low."

Girafarig

Level: 59 to 60

Name: N/A

Type: Normal / Psychic

Affinity: Normal (Full), Psychic (Full)

Moves: Astonish (48), Rest (39 to 43), Gravity (55 to 56), Confusion (45 to 47), Teleport (59), Stomp (50), Agility (47), Double Hit (48), Crunch (54), Nasty Plot (43 to 44), Psychic (53), Low Kick (52), Trailblaze (45), Wild Charge (46), Swift (54 to 55), Store Power (43), Zen Headbutt (56), Body Slam (48), Reflect (56), Dazzling Gleam (31 to 37), Stomping Tantrum (34), Calm Mind (31), Earthquake (29 to 35), Future Sight (29 to 31), Ally Switch (43), Mean Look (41)

Abilities:

Inner Focus – Prevents Girafarig from flinching

Early Bird – Awakens quickly from sleep

Weak to: Bug, Dark

Immune to: Ghost

Resistant to: Psychic

Resistance Added: Steel

Girafarig bobbed its head in understanding. With two humans and two other Pokémon, the preparation for the teleport took nearly a full minute. The air around them seemed to shimmer as Girafarig's psychic energy enveloped the group. In an instant, they vanished, reappearing several hundred meters away, back at the clearing with the tied-up shiny Sandslash.

They materialized in the bushes, well-hidden with a clear view of the dangling Pokémon, which was still struggling, its metallic gold and silver body glinting in the faint light. The ropes binding it were taut, and it hung precariously from a high branch.

Frank surveyed the area quickly. "Girafarig, use Swift. But direct those stars to circle around the clearing first. Cut the rope from the far side, so no one suspects we're hiding here." Girafarig's eyes glowed softly, focusing its Normal-type energy. Slowly, small, glowing stars began to form and hover around its antlers, ready to be launched.

Frank crouched lower and addressed his other Pokémon. "Deena, Summer, get ready. Once Sandslash is freed, it's probably going to cause a commotion. If you sense anyone approaching, let me know immediately. If they surprise us, use Yawn. We'll put them to sleep before they know what hit them."

The Pyroar and Mightyena both growled softly in acknowledgment. Deena's fur bristled, her eyes sharp and focused, while Summer sniffed the air, ready to act at a moment's notice. They knew this was a critical moment.

Frank turned back to Girafarig, who had already fired several glowing stars into the air. The stars arced gracefully, circling around the clearing in a wide loop before descending toward the hanging Sandslash. They spun around the rope binding the Pokémon, severing it neatly from the opposite side, just as Frank had ordered.

"Now, use Confusion," Frank commanded quietly. Girafarig's antlers glowed with psychic energy as it gently caught the shiny Sandslash with its telekinetic hold. The Pokémon floated softly to the ground, unharmed but visibly weak and disoriented.

Frank could feel the tension rising. "Good job." he whispered, patting Girafarig's side. Then he turned to Mightyena.

"Summer, put it to sleep so it won't do anything unexpected."

The Pokémon released a large pink bubble from its nostrils, which then quickly levitated towards the confused Sandslash. As the bubble touched it and bursted, the Sandslash immediately fell asleep. 

"Now, Girafarig, be ready to Teleport us out if things go to shit. It's a lot to ask, buddy, but we need a quick escape if this gets messy."

Girafarig nodded, already preparing for a second round of Teleportation. Its dual minds worked in sync, always ready for whatever Frank needed.

Frank then turned to Simon, who was watching everything with wide eyes. "I've got a few more Pokémon with me, but in the heat of a fight, it's tough to focus on more than a couple at once," Frank admitted. "What about you? Who did you bring today?"

Simon blinked, realizing it was his turn. "Uh—right, I brought my Swellow. He's good for scouting and speed. And I've got a Breloom with me, strong fighter with some punches, and really good with Stun Spore and Mach Punch. But the poachers... this is way beyond what I expected."

Frank nodded approvingly. "A Breloom could come in handy if things turn to close combat. And Stun Spore can help stop the henchmen. Good choice." He glanced around the clearing, his senses on high alert. "Stay sharp, Simon. We don't know how long we have before they realize something's off."

Just then, Summer's ears perked up, her hair stood up, and she gave a low growl. Frank's eyes narrowed. The poachers were nearby—closer than before. The tension thickened in the air. Any second now, they might realize that their bait had been freed, and the rangers would have to decide whether to make a stand or vanish into the forest.

Frank whispered urgently to Girafarig, his voice barely above a breath. "Keep using Confusion and be ready to move the Sandslash back the way we came. Carefully. And make it look like it's going on its own, so they won't realize that something is off. We'll follow the poachers from here."

Girafarig's eyes glowed again, and the unconscious Sandslash gently hovered off the ground, moving slowly around the trees.

"Perfect, you've got its movements right. Get ready and make sure it looks like its fleeing when the poachers notice it."

Frank then turned to Simon, his voice calm but filled with tension. "Call out your Swellow. It can keep watch from above and swoop in if anything goes wrong."

Simon nodded, his fingers trembling slightly as he clicked the Pokéball and released his Swellow. The large bird-like Pokémon stretched its wings before quickly ascending into the air, perching high in the canopy to observe the situation below.

As the two rangers crouched low in the thick underbrush, Summer, Frank's Mightyena, tensed, her posture turning more aggressive. Frank knew it was a sign—the poachers were close.

"They're nearby," Simon whispered, his voice barely audible as the tension grew.

Frank didn't respond verbally. He pressed his finger to his lips, signaling for complete silence, while motioning his group to stay hidden. Everyone, including Deena, the Pyroar, and Girafarig, stayed utterly still.

The quiet was soon shattered by the loud stomping of boots and the unmistakable sounds of angry voices. Four thugs crashed into the clearing, their expressions twisted in frustration. Each one of them carried themselves with a careless, brutish swagger, dressed in tattered outdoor gear that had seen better days. They were rough-looking, with dirt-streaked faces and scars across their arms.

The leader, a tall man with a scruffy beard and a nasty sneer, shouted first. "Where the hell is that fucking Sandslash?!" He kicked a nearby rock in frustration, his voice loud and harsh.

Another thug, shorter but stockier, spat on the ground. "It was hanging right here! No fuckin' way it could've gotten far." He scratched his bald head, visibly annoyed. He had a dark tattoo of a clawed fist on his forearm, matching the others.

The third man, lanky with a snake-like smile, let out a cruel laugh. "Maybe it grew wings and flew away."

The last of the group, a woman with wild, untamed hair, cracked her knuckles. "Well, it ain't here. Boss ain't gonna like this shit."

Frank leaned in closer to Girafarig, whispering his next command. "Keep using Confusion on the Sandslash and make it look like it's running away—toward the lumberjacks. But give them a chance to spot it first."

Girafarig's glowing eyes flickered, and the body of the shiny Sandslash rose slightly, its red and gold form glinting in the light. The unconscious Pokémon hovered at the edge of the clearing, just far enough to catch the poachers' attention.

"Get ready to go after them," Frank murmured to Simon, his eyes never leaving the thugs.

Simon hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "Wait. What if we split up? I'll take care of these four going after the Sandslash, and you cover me from here. We don't want to be surprised by more of them."

Frank frowned, clearly not liking the idea. "I don't know, Simon. They're four, and you're just one."

"But if I take Breloom and Swellow, I can handle them," Simon insisted, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "We have the moment of surprise. Before they realize what's going on, they will all be asleep. And you cover me, so if anything goes wrong, you can step in."

Frank considered it for a moment, then looked at his Pokémon. "These types of poachers usually only carry one Pokémon each. Summer, Deena, can you confirm that?"

Summer and Deena sniffed the air, their sharp senses working to pick up the scent of any hidden Pokémon. After a tense minute, both of them gave a curt nod, confirming Frank's suspicion.

"Alright, but it's still risky," Frank muttered. "You take Breloom and Swellow. I'll lend you Summer. Both of you," he whispered to his Pokémon, "prepare to use Yawn if things get messy. Let's put them to sleep before they cause any real trouble."

Simon slowly withdrew his second Pokéball, summoning his Breloom, which appeared with a quick burst of energy. The mushroom-headed Pokémon flexed its powerful arms, ready for action.

"The best way is to put them to sleep one by one," Frank said quietly, his mind already racing through the next steps.

The thugs continued their angry search, still unaware of the rangers. They were getting closer, their frustration growing with every step. Frank leaned in toward Girafarig once more. "Lift the Sandslash a little higher. We need them to notice it and then convince them that it's fleeing."

Girafarig obeyed, raising the unconscious Sandslash slightly, making it look as though it was weakly trying to escape. The slight movement caught the eye of the tall thug.

"Hey! Over there!" he shouted, pointing at the shimmering Sandslash.

Without hesitation, all four of the poachers turned and began running toward the floating Pokémon.

"Now!" Frank hissed to Summer. The Mightyena, without missing a beat, released a large pink bubble from its mouth, sending it quietly through the air toward the closest thug.

The moment the bubble touched the thug, he let out a surprised grunt before collapsing to the ground, fast asleep. The other three poachers, too focused on chasing Sandslash, didn't notice their companion had fallen.

Frank's heart raced as he turned to Simon. "Go, now. Take them down before they get too far. And be careful."

Simon crouched low, silently moving through the underbrush, tracking the three poachers who were chasing after the floating Sandslash. He was careful with each step, his breath shallow as the excitement of the mission pumped through him.

Behind him, Girafarig trembled with fatigue, still focusing hard on using Confusion to control the shiny Sandslash. The further they moved from Frank, the more effort Girafarig had to exert to keep the Sandslash floating at a believable height. The Pokémon's discomfort became more apparent with each second, its large eyes flickering with strain. It let out a quiet, whinnying sound.

"Go with him!" Frank urged, giving Girafarig a quick nod. Girafarig snorted in relief, happy to get closer to the target, and trotted quietly after Simon.

"You too, Summer. Keep an eye on them and use Yawn if they get too close. If they call out some Pokémon, do whatever you need to do and stop them." Frank's command was soft but firm.

Summer nodded and then surprised Frank by licking his face before her muscular frame began slinking through the brush with feline-like grace. Her yellow eyes stayed locked on the poachers, ready to spring into action at the slightest signal.