A Lion by the Mane

by Edna Dawes

  Margaret came across Jan on the outskirts of the kraal where he watched the preparations while he smoked a cigarette beneath the shade of some trees. Her words of greeting startled him from a reverie, but when she asked only interested questions about life in a kraal he relaxed and answered to the best of his ability. No mention was made of things now past, and they chatted companionably with no indication that they were anything other than tourists to this part of Africa. She loved listening to his strangely accented words as he told her all he knew about native customs and lore. It could not be termed extensive knowledge, but it was recounted with such sincerity that Margaret found herself drawn to him even more.

  Already the comings and goings between huts had doubled, and Jan said there were probably neighbours and friends from other kraals visiting them for the evening highlights. The rough stalls containing sweetmeats were continously surrounded, and the kaffirbier was flowing freely. There seemed to be an endless supply of it and Jan gave his opinion that they would all be ‘sloshed’ by morning. ‘It’s not your sort of evening,’ he said with a smile which knocked her sideways. She marvelled at his recent addiction to smiling. He had never walked on thinner ice yet there was a calmness and sense of peace which had never been there before.

  Around late afternoon, Mtubu, the guerrilla leader, arrived back, and Van Heerdon sent Craig to demand Jan’s immediate presence.

  ‘He only wants you,’ said Craig pointedly and ambled off again.

  ‘Mmm,’ said Jan, looking after his retreating figure, ‘that fellow is very quiet today. Do you suppose Van Heerdon has been at him again?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ lied Margaret. ‘Perhaps he’s not feeling well.’

  ‘Maybe.’ He started to walk off.

  ‘Jan.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You are not really going through with this, are you?’

  ‘Yes.’ The barrier was back bearing the NO ENTRY sign.

  The day went from bad to worse after that, with Van Heerdon’s temper being severely strained and personalities beginning to clash. Mtubu had been delighted with the new plans, but regretted that nothing could be done about their departure until the following day. Indeed, he suggested it was far safer for the whole group to stay up in the arsenal until the celebrations were over because Mtubu couldn’t answer for what his people might do when the drink possessed them. It was not unknown for violence to break out during the latter stages of these affairs when old or imagined grievances were dragged to the fore on a tide of bier, and the following morning produced a flotsam of casualties. Mtubu made no secret of the fact that he was anxious to get out his festival outfit and join in the laughter and dancing himself.

  Van Heerdon sat moodily on his bed disinclined to speak, Craig was still absent – watching the bare bosoms of the dancing girls, Margaret guessed cynically – and Jan lay on his blanket smoking yet another cigarette. Margaret had occupied ten minutes by inspecting the stitches in Jan’s thigh and re-covering the tender flesh with a large dressing from the medical equipment available there. After that, she found time hanging heavily. It was an oppressive evening and the drums beating down in the kraal were beginning to bring back dreadful memories.

  An hour later, she could stand it no longer and stood up to leave the confines of the cave before she made a fool of herself.

  ‘Where are you going?’ asked Jan sharply.

  ‘I have to get some air. I won’t go far.’

  Van Heerdon made no attempt to stop her but watched her departure with a new gleam in his eye. It was possible to look down on the compound from a vantage point a few yards down the path, so Margaret made for the spot and leant back against a tree with a sigh. Out here in the vast night her fears receded and the drumming bothered her less. Soon, she became interested in the ritual below, which was as colourful and bizarre as anything she had ever seen. The women were dancing one behind the other in a long, long snake which undulated around the outside of the compound to the accompaniment of weird chanting and stamping of feet. At the same time, their menfolk, decked out with feathers and brief bead skirts, performed a maniacal dance in the centre. Their stamina was astounding! They had been at it since early evening and Margaret’s watch showed past midnight with no sign of their tiring. When the dancers needed refreshment they drank as they went, and the steps became noticeably more frenzied after each draught.

  The whole affair was becoming compulsive viewing. By the light of the many flaming torches the glistening black bodies in their vivid costumes bettered any spectacular produced at the West End, and the rhythmic beat of drum and feet brought a primitive response from any listener within range. Once again Margaret recognized the hypnotic power of this type of ceremonial. The night was filled with throbbing sounds which thrilled yet scared her, such was the design of that tribal music which grew louder and louder as the participants grew more frenzied.

  Suddenly, all music ceased with a silence louder than an explosive bang, and into the compound leapt the grotesque bird-figure of yesterday. Margaret gasped and drew back instinctively at the sight of the witch-doctor. A quick desire for company sent her hurrying back up the path, but just outside the cave a black figure loomed out of the darkness with hands outstretched. Her scream stopped him in his tracks, but even as Jan appeared through the opening in the wall of rock, Margaret recognized the man as one of the guards the previous evening and apologized for her reaction. Her words brought forth an indication that he understood that she hadn’t recognized him in his feathers. He had brought some bier and cakes for his white guests.

  ‘Hey!’ called a voice from above, and Craig dropped to the ground from his seat on the rocks above the cave’s entrance. ‘Count me in on this. You get a fantastic view of the compound from up there,’ he explained of his sudden appearance. ‘Why don’t you come up?’

  ‘Maybe I will,’ said Jan in view of Craig’s sudden affability. ‘It’s impossible to sleep through this row.’

  The black man took decorated containers from the top of the jug and poured the brew into the first one, which he gave to Jan. Jan passed it to Margaret automatically, but that didn’t please their host. He took it from her hands with a slight shake of his head and gave it back to Jan. It was men first according to his upbringing. Women had what was left over! Craig was served next, then Margaret. Jan quickly advised her not to refuse unless she wished to offend the man, so used to this at parties, she made a pretence at sipping until such time as she could tip it away. When the man had gone, Craig soon put a stop to what she had planned.

  ‘It’s criminal to pour that stuff away,’ he said, taking it from her. ‘You may need to keep your wits about you with three men breathing down your neck, but I plan to whoop it up tonight – and may the best man win!’

  That was a challenge which Jan chose to ignore as he slowly drank from his coloured pot. In the end, Margaret climbed on the rocks with the two men with some vague thought of acting as mediator should it be necessary, and also because it was a better alternative to staying in the cave where Jan said Van Heerdon was snoring loudly. Sitting up there looking into the clearing was rather like being on the business end of a spotlight operated from the gallery of a theatre, and as such, made the scene less real. With Jan beside her she felt no sinister fears of the bird-like witch-doctor, and even began to regard the whole thing as a musical extravaganza.

  Craig’s earlier chatter had lessened until he seemed to be as engrossed in it as the other two, so when his hand suddenly grabbed her arm it made Margaret jump.

  ‘What . . . Craig, what’s the matter?’ she asked when she turned and saw his face in the moonlight. It looked grotesque, a mask like those being worn by the Africans down in the kraal, with twisted features and bulging eyes.

  His fingers dug into her flesh until she gasped with the pain of it, but what she was watching caused more pain. The once-burly young man had grown aged and withered within minutes and his mouth was stretched back in a mirthless grin.

&nb
sp; ‘Jan!’ she cried in a strangled voice. ‘Look at him! Oh dear God, look at him!’

  There was no time to do anything. Before their horrified eyes Craig Barker twisted into a tortured position and, without uttering a sound, died of his agony ten seconds later.

  Chapter Ten

  Margaret sat with her face buried in Jan’s shoulder unwilling to believe the evidence of her own eyes. She had seen enough pets innocently killed by eating rat poison or gardening products to recognize the cause of Craig’s death, but the passing regret she felt for a small furry creature’s agony was nothing to the revulsion she experienced now. Death should be clean and dignified – anything which desecrated or maimed brought a crawling, choking sickness to her stomach. Craig Barker was an unlikeable lecher, but his body had been strong and young and attractive. It should never have become the unspeakable thing it was now!

  Jan seemed equally frozen with shock. They must have sat welded together for some time before either of them was able to think clearly. When they did, there was one conclusion they both reached without difficulty.

  ‘I had a feeling Craig would never reach Suez, but I didn’t think Van Heerdon would act so quickly. I would have tried to save him, you know.’

  Margaret nodded against him, her heart leaden.

  ‘Why did he do it now . . . why?’ continued Jan emphatically. ‘There was no reason.’

  ‘Yes, there was. I killed him as surely as if I had administered the stuff myself.’ She pulled away from him. ‘It was my presence here which hastened his death.’

  ‘I think you had better explain that remark.’ His voice was low and controlled, but there was a bite in it, nevertheless. ‘The time has come for you to put your cards on the table, Maggie. Just why did you follow me here instead of returning to headquarters, and why does Van Heerdon accept your presence so readily? There was nothing going on between you and Craig, was there? You didn’t arrange with him to wake me up that night so that he could give me a good hiding before he left? You made a pretty convincing effort to try to stop me following him.’

  ‘That’s unforgivable!’

  ‘Is it?’

  The pause went on long enough for the moment to cool a little then Margaret admitted, ‘I should have been completely honest before now, but there was no reason for you to say what you did. I had only known Craig for a few hours when he left Myala. He may have been a womanizer, but I don’t fall under the spell that quickly . . . as you should know!’

  ‘I’m sorry. Perhaps I was subconsciously confronting you with your own tactics. You have accused me of some pretty low tricks.’

  ‘Yes,’ was all she would trust herself to say. ‘But it’s too late for quarrelling, Jan. I’m frightened.’ She dug her fingers into the thick hair laying heavily against her scalp. ‘How do you think the poison was given to him?’

  ‘Not in the supper tonight – we all served ourselves from the same container. It must have been in the beer . . . at least, not in the beer but the pot he drank from. These tribal chiefs and witch-doctors are dab hands at poisons. It would be easy to put a little powder in the base of one of those drinking pots.’

  ‘Two of the drinking pots,’ she corrected.

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘If you remember, the first cup was given to you, but when you passed it to me in a rush of good manners, it was firmly given back to you because it was the only one which was safe to drink from.’

  ‘But that’s . . .’

  ‘You are the only person who knew I never take intoxicants, and when Craig gaily grabbed mine from me he was condemning himself to an agonizing death by swallowing twice the dose. I can’t swear to the ingredients of the poison, but a single dose would have probably ensured death some time during the night by a slow paralysis of the body which would leave him looking fairly normal by morning – would leave us looking fairly normal, I should say. One of my long list of virtues saved my life!’

  Jan grabbed her arm. ‘Maggie, you had better tell me why Van Heerdon suddenly wants you out of the way. If I am to get us away from here, I have to know everything.’

  ‘I think that goes for both of us. I admit I really believed you had accepted Van Heerdon’s terms until I heard you discussing details with him. Jan, you know it isn’t just a case of ousting Chris from Schroeder Freight. Your whole family has shares in it – Helen told me. Yet you have agreed to all Van Heerdon suggested. How long are you hoping to fool him?’

  He didn’t answer the question. ‘Leave me to do all the worrying and tell me why he wants you out of the way.’

  There was no alternative but to make a clean breast of everything.

  ‘I’m not as cold-blooded as you imagine, and the sight of you tied up in that compound while the people went about their daily routine was more than I could bear. I have seen unspeakable things done to animals, but I didn’t realize how I would feel when I saw a human suffering from a deliberate act of inhumanity. Van Heerdon was prepared to leave you there until you were on your knees, but I told him I could persuade you to change your mind if he cut you loose and left us alone for a while He gave me until sundown, but you took the decision yourself, not knowing it would strengthen his belief that I was your mistress. My apparent success must have persuaded him that you were deeply entangled with me and therefore I would be a useful ally in the future.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘This morning I made a stupid mistake. The inevitable happened and I lost my head. Craig said it would delight him to take your girl while your back was turned, and in the heat of the moment, I denied everything . . . said you couldn’t wait to see the last of me. Van Heerdon broke it up at that point. He humiliated Craig even further, and although he acted as though I were not there, I was afraid of how much he had heard before he stopped the attempted rape. An influential mistress for his star employee was one thing; an unwanted girl who knew too much was another. So there is your answer. I was too big a risk, and Craig was too big a nuisance!’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me of our supposed relationship? I could have given the game away at any time.’

  ‘I didn’t think it likely. You were being very careful to play it Van Heerdon’s way.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Apart from that, I didn’t want you to know it was I who gained your release; that I had been fighting your battles for you again.’

  ‘I see. Is that why you followed me across the border . . . to fight my battles?’

  ‘Not really,’ she lied. ‘I was scared of losing myself in that vast place. I meant it when I said I was hopeless at navigation.’

  ‘I offered to get a Ranger out to steer you back.’

  ‘I couldn’t let you get in touch with headquarters.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘You are not going to like what I tell you.’

  ‘That won’t be unusual!’

  ‘When I spoke to Chris on the radio-telephone he told me he intended flying up to Myala to take us back to Cape Town yesterday morning. Caught on the wrong foot, I pretended I couldn’t hear what he said and rang off. It seemed wiser not to say anything to you.’

  His temper, which had been carefully damped down recently, blazed up again at that news, making Margaret realize that putting her cards on the table didn’t mean she couldn’t have kept back the ace of spades. Jan left her in no doubt that he would have talked Chris out of making the journey had he known and stopped his brother from getting involved in any of this. Now, it was too late! Chris would have set all kinds of wheels in motion, making it pointless for Jan to continue his masquerade with Van Heerdon.

  ‘The police will be on to this already, so my chances of getting Chris off the hook are nil,’ he said bitterly. ‘I intended playing along until I had had time to obliterate any evidence that Chris had taken supplies to Myala in recent months Then I was going to let the organization make their first move towards pushing Chris out of Schroeder Freight, and that would have clinched his innocence well and truly. However, as I once told you, my brothers are all ver
y honest and upright, so the minute Chris arrives at Myala to find everyone gone and a dead Warden in the storehouse, he will contact all the correct authorities, little knowing what they will uncover. He will be turning the key in his own prison cell!’

  Margaret sat for several seconds while her spirits reached rock-bottom. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It’s too late to be sorry. Just never come back to Africa once you leave!’

  That remark hit her badly. Apart from its emotional implications it raised the awful doubt of being allowed to leave anywhere ever again. But for her teetotal habit, she would be in the hands of death now. Surely, her present safety was simply a postponement of the inevitable! Real paralysing fright beset her, casting aside all other considerations.

  ‘You won’t have to worry about my future,’ she cried. ‘He’ll never let me go. You must see that!’

  He took her arm and shook her. ‘Stop it! You are getting overdramatic. Why pick this moment to go all womanly? If ever I needed your cool, competent personality, it’s now. Don’t let me down!’

  He could not have known those last words would act like a charm – tact and insight were hardly strong points in his make-up – but she responded immediately.

  ‘I don’t see that there is anything I can do, but you know I’ll help you if I can.’

  ‘Thanks. We have to get back to Myala right away. I had hoped to give the police a tip which would allow them to move in and catch Van Heerdon red-handed. However, I have most of the information already, and although they may run the minute they know we have escaped, the law will catch up with them eventually. We can give them the arch villain, if nothing else.’