Eagle in the Sky - Smith Wilbur - Страница 59

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her temples. - the first week in September the morula trees down by your

pools will come into fruit, and my elephants are going to visit you. The

one thing they just can't resist is morula berries, and they are going

to flatten my fence to get at them.  Before I can repair it a lot of

other game are going to follow the jumbo over to your side.

You can lay any type of odds you like that our friend Akkers is oiling

his guns and drooling at the mouth right this minute.  He will know

within an hour when the fence goes.  'This time he may get a surprise.

'Let's hope so.  I think- David said softly - that we might run down to

Bandolier Hill tomorrow to have a look at this gentleman.  'One thing is

for sure, said Jane Berg indistinctly, a gentleman, he is not.

The road down to Bandolier Hill was heavily corrugated and thick with

white dust that rose in a banner behind the Land-Rover and hung in the

air long after they had passed.  The hill was rounded and thickly

timbered and stood over the main metalled highway.

The trading post was four or five hundred yards from the road junction,

set back amidst a grove of mango trees with their deep green and

glistening foliage.  It was a type found all over Africa, an unlovely

building of mud brick with a naked corrugated iron roof, the walls

plastered thickly with posters advertising goods from tea t o flashlight

batteries.

David parked the Land-Rover in the dusty yard beneath the raised stoop.

There was a faded sign above the front steps:

Bandolier Hill General Dealers.

At the side of the building was parked an old green Ford one-ton truck

with local licence plates.  In the shade of the stoop squatted a dozen

or so potential customers, African women from the tribal area, dressed

in long cotton print dresses, timeless in their patience and their

expressions showing no curiosity about the occupants of the Land-Rover.

One of the women was suckling her infant with an enormously elongated

breast that allowed the child to stand beside her and watch the

newcomers without removing the puckered black nipple from his mouth.

Set in the centre of the yard was a thick straight pole, fifteen feet

tall, and on top of the pole was a wooden structure like a dog kennel.

David exclaimed as from the kennel emerged a big brown furry animal.  it

descended the pole in one swift falling action, seemingly at lightly as

a bird, and the chain that was fastened to the pole at one end was, at

the other, buckled about the animal's waist by a thick leather strap.

It's one of the biggest old bull baboons I've ever seen.  Quickly he

described it to Debra, as the baboon moved out to the chain's limit, and

knuckled the ground as he made a leisurely circle about his pole, the

chain clinking as it swung behind him.  It was an arrogant display, and

he ruffled out the thick mane of hair upon his shoulders.

When he had completed the circle, he sat down facing the Land-Rover, in

a repellently humanoid attitude, and thrust out his lower jaw as he

regarded them through the small brown, close-set eyes.

A nasty beast, David told Debra.  He would weigh ninety pounds, with a

long dog-like muzzle and a jaw full of yellow fangs.  After the hyena,

he was the most hated animal of the veld, cunning, cruel and avaricious,

all the vices of man and none of his graces.  His stare was unblinking

and, every few seconds, he ducked his head in a quick aggressive

gesture.

While all David's attention was on the baboon, a man had come out of the

store and now leaned on one of the pillars of the veranda.

What can I do for you, Mr. Morgan?  he asked in a thick accent.  He was

tall and spare, dressed in slightly rumpled and not entirely clean khaki

slacks and openneck shirt, with heavy boots on his feet and braces

hooked into his pants, crossing his shoulders.

How did you know my name?  David looked up at him, and saw he was of

middle age with close-cropped greying hair over a domed skull.  His

teeth were badly fitting with bright pink plastic gums and his skin was

drawn over the bones of the cheeks, and his deep-set eyes gave him a

skull-like look.  He grinned at David's question.

Could only be you, scarred face and blind wife, you the new owner of

Jabulani.  Heard you built a new house and all set to live there now.

The man's hands were huge, out of proportion to the rest of his rangy

body, they were clearly very powerful and the lean muscles of his

forearms were as tough as rope.

He slouched easily against the pillar and took from his pocket a clasp

knife and a stick of black wind-dried meat, the jerky of North America,

boucan of the Caribbean, or the biltong of Africa, and he cut a slice as

though it were a plug of tobacco, popping it into his mouth.

Like I asked, what can we do for you?  he chewed noisily, his teeth

squelching at each bite.

I need nails and paint David climbed out of the Land-Rover.

Heard you did all your buying in Nelspruit Akkers looked him over with a

calculated insolence, studying David's ruined face with attention. David

saw that his deep-set eyes were a muddy green in colour.

I thought there was a law against caging or chaining wild animals.

Akkers had roused David's resentment almost immediately, and the needle

showed in his tone.

Akkers began to grin again easily, still chewing.  You a lawyer, are

you?  'Just asking.  'I got a permit, you want to see it?  David shook

his head, and turned to speak to Debra in Hebrew.  Quickly he described

the man.

I think he can guess why we are here, and he's looking for trouble.

'I'll stay by the car, said Debra.  Good.  David climbed the steps to

the veranda.

What about the nails and paint?  he asked Akkers.

Go on in, he was still grinning.  I got a nigger helper behind the

counter.  He will look after you.  David hesitated and then walked on

into the building.

it smelled of carbolic soap and kerosene and maize meal.

The shelves were loaded with cheap groceries, patent medicines, blankets

and bolts of printed cotton cloth.

From the roof hung bunches of army surplus boots and greatcoats,

axe-beads and storm lanterns.  The floor was stacked with tin trunks,

pick handles, bins of flour and maize meal and the hundreds of other

items that traditionally make up the stock of the country dealer.

David found the African assistant and began his purchase.

outside in the sunlight Debra climbed from the Land Rover and leaned

lightly against the door.  The labrador scrambled down after her and

began sniffing the concrete pillars of the veranda with interest where

other dogs before him had spurted jets of yellow urine against the

white-washed plaster.

Nice dog, said Akkers.

Thank you.  Debra nodded politely.

Akkers glanced quickly across at his pet baboon, and his expression was

suddenly cunning.  A flash of understanding passed between man and

animal.  The baboon ducked its head again in that nervous gesture, then

it rose from its haunches and drifted back to the pole.  With a leap and

bound it shot up the pole and disappeared into the opening of its

kennel.

Akkers grinned and carefully cut another slice of the black biltong.

You like it out at Jabulani?  he asked Debra, and at the same time he

offered the scrap of dried meat to the dog.

We are very happy there, Debra replied stiffly, not wanting to be drawn.

Zulu sniffed the proffered titbit, and his tail beat like a metronome.

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