"Don't listen to that radical," Dad and Uncle John were told. "He's way out of the mainstream." Naturally, they sought him out. When they eventually got Tinley to Londolozi and walked out onto the land with him, he was able to show them how animals and the land were intricately interconnected. Drawing on his knowledge of the water courses and soil types, he could explain why a certain tree grew in a certain area. He was an artist of the landscape.
Tinley scoffed at the cheetah project, however: "The trouble with you guys is, all you want is to get your picture on the social page by doing these glamorous relocation projects. They're all a bunch of bullshit. You're not really into conservation. You're pseudoconservationists."
Dad and Uncle John rose to their full heights and said, "No, we're not!" Tinley harrumphed and walked them around Londolozi and said, "Look at the scrubland. Why do you think you've got that here?"
"Because that's how it is," Dad said.
Tinley frowned. "Follow me." He walked them to the lowest point of the land, where all the water would flow down to because the grass cover on the slopes was gone; cattle had overgrazed the grass and trampled it. Without grass, rain hit bare soil and ran off. Only deep-rooted shrubs could survive in that arid soil, so the animals that used to feed on the grass, and the animals that fed on those animals, including cheetahs, had left the area. "Cheetah hunt in open grassland. No matter how many you bring in, they'll simply bugger off," Tinley told them. "You've got to partner with the land." They needed to clear the scrub and stick some of the uprooted bushes into the knickpoints, blocking them like a plug stoppers a bathtub drain, to hold some of the water back. Once they fixed the water, the grass would grow back naturally. "Make nature your partner; follow her master plan. If you fix the land, the animals will come," Tinley promised them.