Shout at the Devil - Smith Wilbur - Страница 49
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simultaneously It was many long seconds before they realized that the tiny cleft was no deformity but very much as nature had intended it.
"It's a girl!" said Flynn in dismay.
"A girl!" echoed Sebastian, and quickly pulled down the shawl to preserve his daughter's modesty.
"It's a girl, Rosa smiled, wan and happy.
"It's a girl," cackled Nanny in triumph.
Maria Rosa Oldsmith had arrived without fuss and with the minimum of inconvenience to her mother, so that Rosa was on her feet again within twenty-four hours. All her other activities were conducted with the same consideration and dispatch. She cried once every four hours; a single angry howl which was cut off the instant the breast was thrust into her mouth. Her bowel movements were equally regular and of the correct volume and consistency, and the rest of her days and nights were devoted almost entirely to sleeping.
She was beautiful; without the parboiled, purple look of most new-barns; without the squashed-in pug features or the vague, squinty eyes.
From the curly cap of silk hair to the tips of her pink toes, she was perfection.
It took Flynn two days to recover from the disappointment of having been cheated out of a grandson. He sulked in the arsenal or sat solitary at the end of the veranda. On the second evening Rosa pitched her voice just high enough to carry the length of the veranda.
"Don't you think Maria looks just like Daddy the same mouth and nose? Look at her eyes."
Sebastian opened his mouth to deny the resemblance emphatically but closed it again, as Rosa kicked him painfully on the ankle.
"She is the image of him. There's no doubting who her grandfather is."
"Well, I suppose... If you look closely," Sebastian agreed unhappily.
At the end of the veranda, Flynn sat with his head cocked in an attitude of attention. Half an hour later Flynn had sidled up to the cradle and was studying the contents thoughtfully. By the following evening he had moved his chair alongside and was leading the discussion with such remarks as, "There is quite a strong family resemblance.
Look at those eyes no doubt who her Granddaddy is!"
He interspersed his observations with warnings and instructions, "Don't get so close, Bassie. You're breathing germs all over her."
"Rosa, this child needs another blanket.
When did she have her last feed?"
It was not long before he started bringing pressure to bear on Sebastian.
"You've got responsibilities now. Have you thought about that?"
"How do you mean, Flynn?"
"Just answer me this. What have you got in this world?"
"Rosa and Maria," Sebastian answered promptly.
"Fine. That's just great! And how are you going to feed them and clothe them and... and look after them?"
Sebastian expressed himself well satisfied with the existing arrangements.
"I bet you are! It isn't costing you a thing. But I reckon it's about time you got up off your bum and did something."
"Like what?"
"Like going and shooting some ivory."
Three days later, armed and equipped for a "
poaching expedition, Sebastian led a column of gun-boys and bearers down the valley towards the Rovuma river.
Fourteen hours later, in the dusk of evening, he led them back.
"What in the name of all that's holy, are you doing back here?" Flynn demanded.
"I had this premonition." Sebastian was sheepish.
"What premonition?"
"That I should come back, "muttered Sebastian.
He left again two days later. This time he actually crossed the Rovuma before the premonition overpowered him once more, and he came back to Rosa and Maria.
"Well," Flynn sighed with resignation. "I reckon I'll just have to go along with you and make sure you do it." He shook his head. "You've been a big disappointment to me, Bassie." The biggest disappointment being the fact that he had hoped to have his granddaughter to himself for a few weeks.
"Mohammed" he bellowed. "Get my gear packed."
Flynn sent his scouts across the river and when they reported back that the far bank was clear of German patrols, Flynn made the crossing.
This expedition was a far cry from Sebastian's amiable and aimless wandering in German territory. Flynn was a professional. They crossed in the night. They crossed in strictest silence and landed two miles downstream from M'tapa's village. There was no lingering on the beach, but an urgent night march that began immediately and went on in grim silence until an hour before dawn; a march that took them fifteen miles inland from the river, and ended in a grove of elephant thorn, carefully chosen for the kopjes and ravines around it that afforded multiple avenues of escape in each direction.
Sebastian was impressed by the elaborate precautions that Flynn took before going into camp; the jinking and counter-marching, the careful sweeping of their spoor with brushes of dry grass, and the placing of sentries on the kopje above the camp.
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