Cry Wolf - Smith Wilbur - Страница 37
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into the sides of ravine and hillock, so that they were now honeycombed
with caves and tunnels.
It was as though nature had declared a peace upon the wells. Here man
and animal came together in wary truce that was seldom violated.
Amongst the grey-green thorn trees and dense scrub goat and camel
grazed in company with gazelle and gerenuk, oryx and greater kudu.
n In the hush of noo', the column of four armoured cars came in from
the east, and the hum of their engines carried at distance to the
multitude that awaited their arrival.
Jake led, as usual, followed by Vicky, then came Gregoritis with
Sara riding in the turret of his car and the white stallion trailing
them on a long lead rein. In the rear rode Gareth. Suddenly Sara
shrieked at such a high pitch that her voice carried over the engine
noise and she pointed ahead to the low valley filled with green scrub
and taller denser trees. Jake halted the column and climbed up into
the turret.
Through his binoculars he studied the open forest, and then.
started as he discerned a horde of moving figures coming headlong on
wings of fine pale dust.
"My God," he muttered aloud. "there must be hundreds of them," and he
felt a stab of uneasiness. They looked anything but friendly.
At that moment, he was distracted by the sound of galloping hooves
close by, and Sara came dashing past him.
She was mounted bareback on the white stallion, her robes streaming and
fluttering in the sun-bright wind. She was shouting with almost
hysterical excitement as she galloped to meet the oncoming riders and
her behaviour reassured Jake a little. He signalled the column forward
once again.
The first ranks came swiftly in dust clouds, on running camels and
galloping shaggy horses. Fierce, dark-faced men in billowing robes of
dirty white, and a motley of other colours. Urging forward their
mounts with wild cries, brandishing the small round bronze and iron
studded and bossed war shields, they came racing towards the column.
As they approached, they split into two wings and tore headlong past
the startled drivers in a solid wall of moving men and animals.
Most of the men were bearded, and here and there some warrior wore
proudly a great fluffy headdress of lion mane proclaiming his valour to
the world. The manes rippled and waved on the wind as the riders drove
by, urging on their mounts with the high "Looloo" ululations so
characteristic of the Ethiopians.
The weapons they carried amazed Gareth, who as a professional dealer
recognized twenty different types and makes, each one of them a
collector's piece from the long muzzle-loading Tower muskets with the
fancy hammers over percuss ion caps, through a range of Martini Henry
carbines, which fired a heavy lead bullet in a cloud of black powder
smoke, to a wide selection of Mousers; and Schneiders, Lee-Metfords,
and obsolete models from half the arms-manufacturers of the world.
As the riders swept by, they fired these weapons into the air,
long spurts of black powder against the evening sky, and the crackle of
musketry blended with the fierce ululations of welcome.
After the first wave of riders came another of those on mules and
donkeys moving more slowly but making as much noise and immediately
after them came a swarming mob of running, howling foot soldiers,
mingled with whom were women and shrieking children, and dozens of
yelping dogs, scrawny yellow curs with long whippy tails and ridges of
standing hair running down their skeletal backbones.
As the first rank of riders turned, still loolooing and firing into the
air, to complete the encirclement of the armoured column, they ran
headlong into the following rabble and the entire congregation became a
struggling mob of men and animals.
Jake saw a mother with a child under her arm go down under the hooves
of a running camel, the child flying from her grip and rolling in the
sandy earth. Then he was past, forging ahead through a narrow path in
the sea of humanity.
Sara was keeping the path open, leading them in, riding just ahead of
Jake's car, laying about her viciously with a long quirt of hippo hide
to hold back the mob, while around her wheeled the wildly excited
riders still firing their pieces into the air, and dozens of runners
pressed in closely, trying to climb aboard the moving cars.
Gradually the press of bodies and animals built up, until at last,
following Sara, they moved slowly through the open forest that
surrounded the wells into one of the shallow but steeply sided wadis in
the broken ground beyond.
Here any further forward movement became impossible.
The wadi was choked solidly with humanity, even the steep earthen sides
and the ledges above were crowded so closely that unfortunates,
pushed by those behind, could no longer keep their Position and came
tumbling down the sheer sides on to the heads of those in the wadi
below. The cries of protest were lost in the general hubbub.
From each of the turrets, the heads of the four drivers appeared
timidly, like gophers peering out of their holes.
They made helpless signs and expressions at each other, unable to
communicate in the uproar.
Sara leaped from the back of the stallion on to the sponson of Jake's
car and began raining blows and kicks on those who were still
attempting to climb aboard the vehicle. She was enjoying herself
immensely, Jake realized, as he noticed the battle lust in her eyes and
heard the crack of her whip and the yelps of her victims. He thought
of trying to restrain her and then discarded the idea as being highly
dangerous. Instead, he looked about distractedly for some other means
to subdue the boisterous welcome and noticed for the first time the
entrances to numerous caves in the sides of the wadi.
From a number of these dark openings now poured a body of men,
wearing a semblance of uniform jodhpurs and baggy khaki tunics, their
chests crossed with bandoliers of ammunition, put teed calves and bare
feet, high turbans bound around their heads and Mauser rifles swinging
heartily, the butts used as clubs. They were every bit as enthusiastic
as Sara, but considerably more successful in their attempts to quieten
the crowd.
"My grandfather's guards," Sara explained to Jake, still panting and
grinning happily from her recent exertions. "I am sorry, Jake, but
sometimes my people get excited."
"Yeah," said Jake. "So I noticed."
With gun butts rising and falling the guards cleared a space around the
four laden vehicles, and the noise dropped in volume until it was
equivalent to a medium-sized avalanche. The four drivers climbed
warily down and came together in a defensive group in the small stretch
of open ground before the caves. Vicky Camberwell placed herself
strategically between Jake and Gareth and behind the lanky robed figure
of Gregorius and she felt even more secure when Sara slipped up beside
her and took her hand.
"Please do not worry," she whispered. "We are all your friends."
"You could have fooled me, honey." Vicky smiled back at her, and
squeezed the slim brown hand. At that moment a procession emerged from
the caves, headed by four coal-black priests of the Coptic Christian
Church in their gaudy robes, chanting in Amharic, swinging incense and
carrying ornate, if crudely wrought bronze crosses.
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