The Blue Mountains of Kabuta Page 16

  I wasn't sure at first. I thought the difference in our ages was too great, but the more I know him, the more I . . . well, maybe this sounds odd coming from an oldie as I must seem to you, but I love him dearly and I think—in fact, I'm sure—we'll be very happy.'

  Oh, Mum, I'm so glad . . . for you,' Jon said, and

  kissed her, turning away quickly, afraid lest her mother see the tears in her eyes. Is it a secret or is the engagement going to be announced ? '

  ' A secret, of course. Please don't tell anyone at all, Jon. We plan a quiet wedding and if everyone knew . . . well, we'd have to ask everyone. So not a word.'

  ' Not a word,' Jon promised.

  Alone in her bedroom, she gazed in the mirror. Had she lost weight ? Her face looked thinner. Her mouth turned down at the corners. She looked exactly what she was—an idiot drowned in self-pity. She should be ashamed. Think of all the unhappy years her mother had known, the shock of losing a beloved husband so soon, the loneliness, the fact that she was growing older every day—surely she was entitled to happiness ? After all, Jon told herself, she was young. Only twenty-three. There would be years ahead of her.

  If only . . . She flung herself on the bed, hugging the pillow tightly, keeping her eyes shut. How could she bear it ? Would she be a bridesmaid ? Kissed by the bridegroom after the ceremony ? Laughing, wishing them happiness, watching them go, alone together and for always ? How could she do it ?

  CHAPTER XI

  One week later, Tim asked Jon to be his wife. Despite the gossip, Kirsty's advice and Alex's accusations, all the same it came as a surprise—perhaps because it had been such a strange day for Jon, a confused day, mixed with fear and reassurance, with love and hate.

  The day began with heavy rain, grey skies and the mountains hidden behind heavy mists. There was a surprising coldness in the air, a chill that seemed to penetrate the pale blue cardigan Jon wore over a thin white shirt. She was wearing denim jeans too because they might be warmer. The weather changed so fast — the day before had been so swelteringly hot, yet today . . . She shivered.

  The dogs were restless, so she played a game with them, throwing a small ball up and down the stoep. The floor was highly polished, so the dogs skidded as they tried to stop or leap after the ball. They loved the game and it was better than taking them out in the thick mud.

  Her mother was to be fetched by a neighbour for lunch and a bridge session.

  I always seem to be out these days, darling,' Ursula said, a little wistfully. Although they had not talked of her approaching wedding since that night of honesty, somehow they were much closer and Jon felt again that her mother loved her.

  ' By the way, Jon, why are you having the guest house painted ? '

  Jon grabbed hold of the rubber ball, ignoring the dogs' eager thrusts as they waited impatiently for the game to continue.

  Why, Mum, didn't I tell you that Alex told me to ? ' Alex ? Was it his idea ? '

  Yes. He said that after you had gone, Tim would have to sleep there.'

  Of course. I'd forgotten. Jon . . .' her mother hesitated for a moment, are you in love with Tim ? '

  Jon shrugged her shoulders. I'm fond of him, but love .. .' Suddenly she wondered if it might make it easier for her mother if she believed that Jon was in love with Tim and that one day they might be married. I'm not sure, Mum. I haven't known him long, and besides,' she smiled, he hasn't asked me.'

  A long grey car came into the drive. He will,' said Ursula. But be very sure before you say yes, darling. Tim is a dear boy, but . .

  I promise I won't rush into it, Mum. We'll be engaged for at least six months.'

  Good, darling. Somehow I thought . .

  The woman behind the driving wheel of the car gave an impatient hoot and Ursula laughed.

  Coming ! ' she called, and Jon held an umbrella over her as they ran to the car.

  Jon waved goodbye and walked back into the house slowly.

  The dogs came racing to meet her. Even old Jocky, who had taken so long to accept her, came now, wagging his tail. Throwing the ball, squeezing it out of the dogs' mouths if they refused to drop it, passed the time, Jon thought. Later she would study her language book and ask Dorcas if she was pronouncing the words correctly. Suddenly she wondered where Tim was. Probably out on the lands somewhere, though as a rule he stayed indoors when it rained hard, leaving it to the induna to cope.

  At that moment Dorcas jerked open the house door and stood, breathless and frightened.

  Jonah's cut his hand, missis. Very bad cut with much blood.'

  I'll come,' said Jon, leaving the dogs on the stoep as they would only jump about, barking and perhaps alarming Jonah, one of the farm hands.

  She took the first aid box and hurried through the kitchen. Jonah, a short thin man, was squatting on

  the small porch, sheltered from the worst of the rain, holding the damaged hand by the wrist and watching the blood dripping to the ground .. .

  At the same moment, a truck came round behind the house and drew up. Jon saw with mixed dismay and relief that it was Alex. He came striding through the rain, ankle deep in the mud. Would he stand and watch her cope, she wondered—or take over ?

  She might have known which he'd do ! ' I'll cope with this,' he said gruffly. Go and put on a mackintosh, Jon, and boots. Where on earth is this manager of yours ? '

  Out on the lands,' said Jon, standing back and watching Alex quickly wash his hands before coping with Jonah.

  More likely asleep in his bed,' Alex said sourly. Get going, Jon. We've no time to waste. Get your mackintosh, I've something to show you.'

  Jon hesitated. Mum's out.'

  I know that. Hurry, we've no time to spare.' Why . .

  Alex straightened. Look, Jon, do I have to spell it out ? Be quick about it ! ' he snapped.

  Jon turned and obeyed, thrusting her bare feet into the small wellington boots, pulling on her mackintosh and tying a scarf round her head and hurrying back to the kitchen, wondering what it was Alex wanted to show her. Was it something to do with Tim ?

  Alex was waiting impatiently, telling the girls something.

  I ought to leave a note . . .' Jon began.

  There isn't time. I've told them.' Alex's hand gripped her arm and he almost thrust her in front of him through the heavy rain and mud to the truck. Now she could see that two of Alex's workers were squatting in the back under a tarpaulin, and that each had a rifle.

  He almost pushed her into the truck, then ran round and climbed up into the driver's seat, switched on the ignition and drove over the squelching mud round the

  house and out through the gate.

  ' Where are we going ? ' Jon asked.

  Wait and see.'

  Alex didn't speak again for the first hour. Nor did Jon. She could see how angry he was, but with whom she didn't know. Was it with her ? With Tim ? Who ? She sat, hunched up, for it was cold as the truck swerved and jerked on the bad earth road, skidding, sliding perilously near the long drops as they climbed the mountains and slid down into the valleys again. The rain pelted down so that the windscreen wipers found it hard to work, and then, without warning, the rain stopped and she saw that they were driving into a dry area. It was even more strange when they began to send up clouds of dust behind them.

  They've had no rain here,' she said wonderingly.

  Alex didn't turn his head. ' Obviously,' he said.

  After that she stayed quiet for a long time. It was getting hotter and hotter as they went lower down in the huge valley. She struggled out of her mackintosh and pushed the scarf into one of the pockets. Then she wiped the dust off her face with an old tissue.

  Is it much farther ? ' she asked as the silence became unbearable.

  Not much.'

  Suddenly she could stand it no longer. What's wrong, Alex ? Why are you so mad about something ? ' I'm not mad. I'm furious.'

  Well, furious, then. Where are we going and why ? '

  He slowed up and she saw a high wire fence
with an entrance and someone who came out of a small but to unlock the gates.

  ' Is this a game reserve ? '

  Precisely,' he said curtly.

  They drove more slowly along the wide track, past trees and bushes, but she saw no animals.

  As if he could read her thoughts, he said: Too hot for them to be about. The early morning is the best time.'

  Then why have we come now ? '

  He turned to look at her and she had never seen such anger on his face before. We have come,' he said very slowly, to shoot a lion.'

  What ? You're going to . . . to shoot a lion ? ' Jon almost gasped.

  He smiled, a smile without amusement. You called me a murderer for money—or perhaps those were Caroline's words. I thought you might like to see what happens, only this time I don't get paid for it.'

  But . . . she began, then stopped, for they had gone into another wire surrounded area only this time, there was a small, single-storied house that was half hidden by purple bougainvillea flowers. Even as they stopped, the front door opened and a girl came out. She looked about twenty with red hair and a weary frightened face.

  Alex ! ' she said, almost tumbling down the steps to meet him. ' I don't know how to thank you. I've had to fight Mike to keep him in bed and his temperature is a hundred and five. Could you see him and make him realize . . .' Suddenly she must have seen Jon, for she looked startled. Would you like a cup of coffee ? '

  Jon nodded and slid down from the high truck. Alex had already vanished into the house and the two girls followed.

  I've just made us some coffee, so it's lucky,' the girl said, then laughed. Oh, dear, I don't know if I'm on my head or my heels ! My name is Nancy Kirkwood and my husband is a game warden, but he's ill with 'flu and he's a bit bronchitis-inclined, so I've got to look after him. Last year he had pneumonia . . . and there's an absolute epidemic here of 'flu and . . .' She rubbed a hand wearily over her face. So I phoned Alex. He never lets us down.'

  Jon, sipping the hot sweet coffee, began to speak. But why . . .' but she had no chance to finish the sentence, for Alex returned and took the cup out of

  her hand.

  ' We must get going. Mike sees sense, Nancy. I'm taking his guide to show me where the lion is.'

  ' Shouldn't she . . . I don't know your name .. . shouldn't she stay with me, Alex ? ' Nancy asked worriedly. ' Mike will never take me along.'

  ' This is different. Jon wants to see a kill,' Alex said, his voice grim.

  ' No, I . . .' Jon began, but again was given no chance as Alex pulled her along, forcing her outside and almost throwing her up into the truck as a short African jumped up in the back and spoke to the other two men and then the truck jerked forward.

  Jon felt sick as she sat still. How could Alex be so cruel ? She had no desire to see a poor lion slaughtered. Why must they kill him ? Why couldn't the lion go on living ? Wasn't that what game reserves were for ? she thought, but, glancing at Alex, she decided this was not the right moment to talk to him.

  They drove some distance along the main road but saw nothing, and then as the guide leaned over from the back and shouted at Alex, the truck left the road and jolted its way across what was little more than a track. Jon looked round her miserably, dreading what lay ahead. Even the sight of a group of monkeys squatting on the ground, staring at them, didn't ease her misery.

  Finally Alex swung the steering wheel round and stopped under a group of trees. He jumped down and came round to her side. His face was grim, his mouth a thin line. He had a rifle in his hand.

  Stay put,' he ordered curtly. Lions are not socially minded. Keep the window shut.'

  She watched him as he, the guide and one other man walked slowly through the thick yellow grass. Looking back, she saw that the other man was standing up in the truck, his rifle ready. Was he there to protect her ? she wondered.

  She shivered. Alex had said that lions were not

  socially minded. Neither were elephants. Suppose one walked out on to . .

  She caught her breath as fear went through her. Was Alex mad ? Anything could happen to him. Suppose the lion was hiding and then leapt . .

  She was so frightened for him that she began to wind down the window to shout at him, to get him to let the poor lion live, not to risk his life. Then she realized that she was getting hysterical, so she closed the window and buried her face in her hands, for she couldn't bear to watch Alex walking to . . . to, perhaps, his death.

  The sudden roar of an angry lion jerked up her head and opened her eyes. She could no longer see the three men, they had vanished, but suddenly Alex appeared from behind a bush, glancing back at the truck, lifted his hand to give the V-sign of victory, and strangely, her fear for him went. Suddenly she knew that he knew what he was doing . . . now it was the lion she felt sorry for.

  Another angry roar made her jump, made her glad the windows were closed, that someone in the truck was watching.

  There was a third roar. A strange sound, almost, she thought, a desperate sound. She leaned against the glass, gazing anxiously now towards the bushes where Alex was hiding.

  Suddenly she saw the lion—a great beast walking strangely as if limping. His tail was swinging, his head rolling from side to side, then as he came out of the long grass and she could see him plainly, she saw why he was hobbling. His fourth leg was being dragged helplessly as he made his way on three legs. He must have been hurt, she realized, and at that moment Alex stepped forward and she heard a shot .. .

  The lion gave a stifled roar, moved forward, falling over in the same moment, jerked his legs and then lay very still. Jon sat very still, fighting the sickness that filled her as she watched Alex move cautiously to the dead animal's side, bend down, then stand up and walk

  towards her.

  He jerked open the truck door. ' I want to show you something,' he said curtly.

  I don't want to . . . to see it . . .' she began, but Alex was not listening. He literally pulled her down and half carried her across the patch of dry earth to where the lion lay.

  No, Alex, I won't look ! ' she said, struggling.

  You will—if we have to stand here ten hours,' he said angrily.

  She knew he meant what he said and that in this mood all the arguments or tears would have no effect. But as she gazed at the dead lion, she cried out, clapping her hand to her mouth with horror. The damaged leg was terribly torn with deep cuts, covered with dried blood and ants and flies. The lion's mouth was badly torn, too, his jaw hanging down loosely.

  How did it happen ? she gasped, turning her head away, trying not to be sick.

  A poacher's trap,' Alex said, and he half carried her back to the truck, lifting her up and going round to sit by her side. Wire, Jon. He must have torn himself to bits trying to get free. He broke his jaw and couldn't run, so could find no animal he could kill. Desperate with pain and hunger, he must have forced his way into a kraal and found a small child playing in the dust.'

  Alex paused, looking at Jon's white face. Then he pulled a flask from the pocket at the side of the truck and a glass and filled it, giving it to her.

  Drink it slowly,' he ordered, and went on as she obeyed: You can guess what followed. He ate the child. It wasn't his fault . . . it's that . . .' Alex clamped his mouth as if afraid to let himself say what he wanted to. Feel better ? ' he asked abruptly.

  Jon nodded. The drink burned her throat but was warming her.

  Sorry . . . silly of me.'

  Nonsense.' For a moment he smiled. ' I thought you were going to black out. I didn't realize it would be such a shock.'

  She shivered. He must have been in agony.'

  I'm sure he was. That's why I came out. A wounded beast has to be shot quickly—not only to spare him further agony but to protect the children.' He sighed. When I think . . . It's the game warden's job, but when they're sick, I lend a hand.'

  Jon glanced across the bare patch and saw that the three Africans were slowly dragging the lion along the ground.r />
  What will they do with him ? '

  Alex smiled grimly. ' Eat him, of course. We'll get going as soon as they get him on the truck.'

  It was a slow business, for the animal was a heavy one. Jon tried not to look at that blood-covered face, not to think of his panic as he was trapped, the agony he suffered.

  At last they were able to get away and Alex drove back to the main road, stopping at a small clearing where there were a few thatched huts with a fence round them. Four or five women came running, with small children clinging to their skirts.

  They don't usually have lions down here, but there's been a long drought,' Alex explained as the lion was pulled off, hitting the ground with a heavy thump. And they've come in search of water. That's how he got caught in a cunningly-laid trap.'

  Gradually as Alex talked more and more, some of the nausea left Jon and she could relax and listen to what he said as he drove the truck. She had to sit close to him as otherwise he had to shout above the noise of the engine. She was fascinated by what he told her.

  Life as a game warden is exciting and interesting, but there are tough moments. If too many elephants are bred, they destroy the trees and, in this way, make life impossible for other animals, so we have to make a regular check on the number of elephants or else the reserve will become a dust-heap. It's the same with lions. We have to know how many there are because,

  of course, they live off the other animals and if the number gets out of hand .. .' He shrugged.

  And if there are too many ? ' she asked.

  ' We shoot them.' He glanced at her. ' It's a quick death, Jon, and better than letting them die starving or caught in a trap.'

  Later he talked about his sanctuary and his plans.

  That reminds me, Caroline said I organized safaris ? I thought so. The truth is I only went on one in my life. Certainly it was with Americans, wealthy all of them. I did go to shoot—but my weapon was a camera.' He chuckled as he looked at her face. Some time—if you won't be too bored—you must see my films '