“Scorpion!”  I slammed on the breaks and the beast (the car) came to a skidding halt.  Charl (who spotted the scorpion) and myself jumped out.  There he was, in the middle of the road with dust settling around him, heading straight for a road works camp about 50 meters away from the edge of the road.  He would either die on the road or be killed if any of the road works people found him.  We decided to catch him and take him to a valley in the dunes.

Rummaging around in the back of the car I found a petrol funnel (unused, no fumes) and ran back to where Charl was keeping the feisty guy busy.   We managed to persuade him that he would be better off coming with us.  With the scorpion in the funnel (not very far from the open top end) we continued our fifteen-minute drive. 

We made it all the way to the dunes, despite a bumpy road (which would cause the funnel to sway an bob dangerously at times, with the scorpion using its tail to jack itself up and peer over the edge).  Once in the valley, I readied the camera gear while Charl let our passenger explore his new home.  Needless to say he took off and did not stop for pictures.

I would have to run ahead, drop down and let him come straight at me (which he did).  I would take a few images, while shuffling backwards on my knees (its amazing how abrasive the dune sand is if you do this over a distance of about 200 to 300 meters).  Quite often I would not be fast enough and he would climb up on my lens, or brush past my exposed knee or elbow.  I just kept my finger on the shutter button and my eye glued to the viewfinder.