The Angels Weep - Smith Wilbur - Страница 139

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"What is my name?" he asked-, and then he told them, "I am Comrade Tebe. What is my name?" "Comrade Tebe," they cried.

"Who is Comrade Tebe? Comrade Tebe is your friend and your leader." "Comrade Tebe is our friend and our leader." Question and answer repeated again and again. "Who is Comrade Tungata?" "Comrade Tungata is our friend and our leader." The children's voices took on a strident fervour, and there was a mesmeric glitter in their eyes.

"What is the revolution?" "The revolution is power to the people," they shrieked, like Western children of the same age at a pop concert.

"Who are the people?" "We are the people." "Who is the power?" "We are the power." They swayed in their seats, transported into a state of ecstasy. By this time most of the girls were crying with wild joy.

"Who is Comrade Inkunzi?" "Comrade Inkunzi is father of the revolution." "What is the revolution?" "The revolution is power to the people." The catechism began again, and impossibly they were carried even higher on the wings of political fanaticism. Tungata, himself strangely roused, wondered at the skill and ease with which it was orchestrated. Higher still and higher Tebe carried them, until Tungata found himself shrieking with them in a wonderful catharsis of the hatred and grief which had festered within him since Constance's murder. He was shaking like a man in fever, and when the bus lurched and threw Miriam's slim barely matured -body against him, he found himself instantly and painfully sexually aroused. It was strange, almost religious, madness that overwhelmed them all, and at the end Comrade Tebe gave them the song.

"This is the song which you will sing as you go into battle, it is the song of your glory, it is the song of the revolution." They sang it in their- sweet true children's voices, the girls harmonizing and clapping in spontaneous rhythm. "There are guns across the border And your murdered fathers stir. There are guns across the river And your slave-born children weep. There is a bloody moon arising How long will freedom sleep?" Now at last Tungata felt the tears break from his own eyes and pour in scalding streams down his face.

"There are guns in Angola And a whisper on the wind. There are guns in Maputo And a rich red crop to reap. There's a bloody moon arising How long will freedom sleep?" It left them stunned and exhausted, like the survivors of some terrible ordeal. Comrade Tebe spoke quietly to the bus-driver, and they turned off the main road onto a barely noticeable track into the forest. The bus was forced to slow down to a crawl, as it followed the serpentine track that jinked around the bigger trees and dipped through dry riverbeds. It was dark by the time they stopped. The track had petered out and most of the children were asleep. Tungata went down the bus waking them and moving them out.

The boys were sent to find firewood and the girls set to preparing a simple meal of maize meal and sweet tea. Tebe led Tungata aside and explained to him.

"We have entered the liberated area, the Rhodesians no longer patrol this strip of territory. From here we go on foot. It will be two days to the drifts. You will march in the rear of the column, be alert for deserters. Until we reach the river, there is always the danger from the faint-hearted. Now I will deal with the driver." Tebe led the subdued and terrified man away from the camp, with an arm around his shoulders. He returned alone twenty minutes later, by which time most of the children had eaten and had curled up like puppies on the bare earth beside the fires.

The girl Miriam came to them shyly with a bowl of maize cake and the two men sat close together while they ate. Tebe spoke with his mouth full. "You think them babes." He indicated the sleeping schoolchildren. "Yet they learn swiftly and believe what they are taught without question. They have no concept of death, therefore they know no fear. They obey, and when they die there is no loss of trained men who cannot be replaced. The Simbas used them in the Congo, the VietCong used them against the Americans, they are the perfect fodder on which the revolution is nurtured." He scraped out the bowl. "If any of the girls is to your liking, you may use her. That is one of their duties." Tebe stood up. "You will take the first watch. I will relieve you at midnight." Still chewing, he walked away. At the nearest fire he squatted down beside where Miriam lay 7and whispered something to her. She stood up immediately, and followed him trustingly out of the firelight.

Later, when Tungata patrolled the perimeter of the sleeping camp, he heard a strangled little wail of pain from the darkness where Tebe and the girl lay. Then there was a sound of a blow, and the cry choked off into gentle sobbing. Tungata moved around to the opposite side of the camp, where he did not have to listen.

Before dawn Tungata drove the bus to the brink of the steep watercourse, and then, yelling with delight, the boys pushed it over the edge. The girls helped them gather branches and heap them over the vehicle until it was hidden from even a low-flying helicopter.

They moved out northwards at first light. Tebe took the point, keeping half a kilo metre ahead of the column. The schoolmaster stayed with the children, enforcing the complete silence Tebe had ordered.

Before they had covered a mile, he was sweating through the back of his shirt and his spectacles were misted over. Tungata came up behind them, carrying the AK at the trail, avoiding the footpath, staying in the dappled forest shade, stopping every few minutes to listen, and once every hour doubling back to lie beside the path and make certain they were not followed.

None of the skills of the game-ranger had deserted him. He found himself completely at ease, and in a strange sort of way he was happy.

The future had taken care of itself. He was committed at last. There were no longer any doubts, no guilty sense of duty neglected, and the warrior blood of Gandang and Bazo flowed strongly in his veins.

At noon they rested for an hour. There were no fires and they ate cold maize cake and washed it down with muddy water from a water-hole in the mopani. The water tasted of the urine of the elephants who had bathed in it during the night. When Miriam brought his ration to Tungata, she could not look into his face, and when she walked away she moved carefully, as though favouring an injury.

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