Cry Wolf - Smith Wilbur - Страница 35
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a time, they brought the other three cars down into the ravine, and
hitched them up to the vehicle on the far bank. Then with
Vicky driving, Gareth towing, and Jake and Gregorius shoving, they
hauled them up on to the level, sunbaked soil of Ethiopia. It was late
afternoon when at last they fell panting in the long shadow thrown by
Miss Wobbly's chassis, to rest and smoke and drink steaming mugs of
hastily brewed tea. Gregorius told them: "No more obstacles ahead of
us now. It's open ground all the way to the Wells," and then he smiled
at the three of them with white teeth in a smooth honey-coloured
face.
"Welcome to Ethiopia!"
"Quite frankly, old -chap, I'd much prefer to be sitting at Harry's Bar
in the rue Daunou," said Gareth soberly which is exactly what I will be
doing not long after Toffee Sagud presses a purse of gold into my
milk-white hand." Jake stood up suddenly and peered out into the
dancing heat waves that still poured from the hot earth like swirling
liquid. Then he ran quickly across to his own car and leapt up into
the turret, emerging seconds later with his binoculars.
The others stood up uneasily and watched him focus the glasses.
"Rider," said Jake.
"How many? "Gareth demanded.
"Just the one. Coming this way fast. "Gareth moved across to fetch
the Lee-Enfield and work a cartridge into the breech.
They saw him now, galloping through the dizzy heat mirage, so that at
one moment horse and rider seemed to float free of the earth, and then
sink back and swell miraculously, growing to elephantine proportions in
the heat-tortured air. Dust drifted behind the running horse and it
was only at close range that the rider came into crisp focus.
Gregorius let out a bellow like a rutting stag and raced out into the
sunshine to meet the newcomer. In a brilliant display of horsemanship
the rider reined in the big white stallion so abruptly that he plunged
and reared, cutting at the air with his fore hooves
With white robes billowing, he flung himself from the horse, and into
Gregorius's widespread arms.
The two figures joined together rapturously, the stranger suddenly
seeming small and delicate in Gregorius's arms, and the cries of
laughter and greeting high and birdlike.
Then hand in hand, looking into each other's faces, they came back to
the group that waited by the cars.
"My God, it's another girl," said Gareth with amazement, setting the
loaded rifle aside, and they all stared at the slim, dark-eyed child in
her late teens with a skin like dusky silk and immense dark eyes
fringed with long curling lashes.
"May I introduce Sara Sagud?" asked Gregorius. "She is my cousin, my
uncle's youngest daughter, and she is also without doubt the prettiest
lady in Ethiopia."
"I see what you mean," said Gareth. "Very decorative indeed." As
Gregorius, introduced each of them to her by name, the girl smiled at
them, and the long aristocratic face with the serenity of an Egyptian
princess, the delicate features and chiselled nose of a Nefertiti,
changed instantly to a sparkling childlike mischievousness.
"I knew you must cross the Awash here, it is the only place and
I came to meet you."
"She speaks English also," Gregorius pointed out proudly.
"My grandfather insists that all his children and his grand.
children learn to speak English. He is a great lover of the
English."
"You speak it well," Vicky congratulated Sara, although in fact her
English was heavily accented, and the girl turned to her,
smiling anew.
"The sisters at the convent of the Sacred Heart in Berbera taught me,"
she explained, and she examined Vicky with frank and unabashed
admiration. "You are very beautiful, Miss Camberwell, your hair is the
colour of the winter grass in the highlands," and Vicky's usual
composure was rocked.
She blushed faintly and laughed, but Sara's attention had flicked away
to the armoured cars.
"Ah, they also are beautiful nobody has spoken of anything else,
since they heard these were coming." She hoisted the skirts of her
robe up over her tight-fitting embroidered breeches, and hopped agilely
up on to the steel body of Miss Wobbly. "With these we shall throw
the
Italians back into the sea. Nothing can stand before the courage of
our warriors and these fine war machines." She flung her arms wide in
a dramatic gesture and then turned.
to Jake and Gareth. "I am honoured to be the first of all my people to
thank you."
"Don't mention it, my dear girl," Gareth murmured, "our pleasure, I
assure you." He refrained from asking if her father had remembered to
bring the cash with him, but asked instead,
"aAre your people waiting for us at the Wells?"
"my grandfather has come with my father and all my uncles. His
personal guard is with him, and many hundreds of others of the Harari,
together with their women and animals."
"My God," growled Jake "It sounds like a helluva reception committee."
They camped that last night of the journey on the bank of the Awash
under the spreading umbrella branches of a camel thorn tree, sitting
late and talking in the ruddy flickering glow of the fire, secure
within the square fort formed by the four hulking steel vehicles. At
last the talk died away into a weary but friendly silence, and Vicky
stood up.
"A short walk for me, and then bed." Sara stood with her. "I'll come
with you." Her fascination with and admiration for Vicky was
increasingly apparent, and she followed her out of the laager like a
faithful puppy.
Away from the camp, they squatted side by side in companionable fashion
under a night sky splendid with star shot, and Sara told Vicky
seriously, "They both desire you greatly Jake and Gareth." Vicky
laughed awkwardly again, once more discomposed by the girl's direct
manner.
"Oh, come now."
"Oh yes, when you come near them, they are like two dogs, all stiff and
walking around each other as though they will sniff each other up the
tail." Sara giggled, and Vicky had to smile with her.
"Which one will you choose, Miss Camberwell?" Sara demanded.
"Lardy, do I have to? "Vicky was still smiling.
"Oh no," Sara reassured her. "You can make love with both of them. I
would do so."
"You would? "Vicky asked.
"Yes, I would. What other way can you tell which one you like best?"
"That's true." Vicky was becoming breathless with suppressed laughter,
but fascinated by this bit of logic. The idea had a certain appeal,
she admitted to herself.
"I will make love with twenty men before I marry Gregorius. That way I
will be sure I have missed nothing, and I will not regret it when
I am old," declared the girl.
"Why twenty, Sara?" Vicky tried to keep her voice as serious as the
girl's. "Why not twenty-three or twenty-six?" Oh no," said Sara
primly. "I would not want people to think me a loose woman," and Vicky
could hold her laughter no longer.
"But you-" Sara returned to the immediate problem.
"Which of them will you try first?"
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