The Leopard's Prey

by Suzanne Arruda

  He’ll be fine, she told herself. Probably never have another attack. But what then? Before, at the Thompsons’, he’d seemed upset and at least part of that emotion was directed at her. Was it simply a result of his illness, or because she’d danced with Anderson? Either way, she’d find out what this shauri was about. She’d do that just as soon as she cleared Sam’s name of those murder suspicions. And how do I do that when I’m stuck out here?

  Jade closed her eyes and drifted to sleep. Maybe it was a change in the predawn air or the faint whiff of tanned leather and ocher in the air, but Jade woke to the prickly sensation that she was being watched.

  She was surrounded by nine Maasai warriors.

  CHAPTER 14

  Mature warriors and junior elders, acting as mentors, live in the manyatta,

  where these “fire-stick elders” teach the warriors about Maasai customs.

  Joining them are the warriors’ mothers and a few girlfriends.

  No uninitiated boys may enter.

  —The Traveler

  THE NURSE MUST have slipped him some sort of sedative, for Sam didn’t wake up again until just before daybreak. Promptly at five a.m., Avery reappeared with his shaving kit, a mirror, and half a roasted chicken. The latter was tucked into a napkin in his kit.

  “Had to sneak it past the ward nurse. Quick, eat while she’s still at her desk.”

  Sam glanced at the nurse at the far end of the room. She sat hunched over some paperwork, writing. He devoured one leg quarter and a part of the breast without taking his eyes off her. As soon as Sam finished, Avery wrapped the remainder of the chicken in the napkin and shoved it back into the recesses of the leather kit. Then he whipped up some lather in a mug.

  “Can you do this, or shall I act as barber?” Avery asked.

  “I’ll do it,” said Sam. “If that doctor comes back round, I want to look fit enough to get out of here. You might take off half my mustache.”

  Avery held the mirror while Sam lathered up and then carefully swiped the thin blade over his face. He took extra care around his mustache, keeping it to a thin line. When he was through, he felt more tired, but less diseased.

  “Thanks, Avery. I feel like a new man.”

  “And you look as helpless as a newborn.”

  “Surprised the nurse hasn’t run you off yet. How did you get in this early? Did you bribe her?”

  Avery grinned. “Better. I held up a note from your doctor saying I had permission to act as your valet before your release.”

  “That was pretty decent of the doctor,” said Sam.

  Avery laughed. “The doctor knows nothing about it. But who can read their signatures anyway, right?”

  Sam smiled. “Avery, you old devil. You’re a forger.”

  “It’s a skill every lord should have. But it looks as though my luck might be running out.” He nodded to the corner, where the night nurse was showing her notes to the day nurse. “Looks like a changing of the guard and the end of my early visit.”

  “Stick it out, man,” said Sam. “If you leave, it’s just me and my gloomy thoughts.”

  Avery squirmed in the chair as though he felt as uncomfortable listening to a man’s confidences as his backside did sitting on the hard seat. “I say. None of that now. You’ll be out today and soon back in the saddle.” When he saw Sam’s frown, he crossed his legs and settled himself for the long haul. “Let’s have it. Best to spit it out.”

  “Jade never came back yesterday to see me.”

  “Is that all? Hell, Sam, she’s probably out roping more wild zebras or capturing an entire pride of lions. Or she came back and you were asleep.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right,” said Sam. “Although that’s part of what worries—” He stopped as a ruckus at the door attracted everyone’s attention.

  JADE PEERED OUT of the cockpit and saw shapes, cutout silhouettes tacked against a black sky and backlit by dim firelight. A ring of men surrounded her, each standing storklike on one leg, the sole of the other foot resting against the inside of the knee. Gradually, she realized that only one man faced her. The others looked out onto the grassland and rocks. The man facing her stepped into the dim firelight and looked up at her.

  She’d only known two Maasai before, Ruta and the old tracker and witch Memba Sasa. Ruta had been a handsome man with a proud carriage and a strength of mind and body. The man facing her reminded Jade of him. He wore his shoulder-length hair like thin ropes twisted with red ocher and animal fat. Most were pulled behind and held in some as yet unseen clasp. The top ropes, however, were directed forward as forelocks. They came together in a tight twist, making a triangle, the point falling between the eyebrows in a metal disk.

  The warrior wore an ocher-stained leather apron wrapped around his loins and a red cloth as a short toga across one shoulder. When the breeze ruffled his cloak, Jade glimpsed a well-muscled chest, bare except for a thin crisscross of beads, and an armlet of colorful beads bound his upper right arm. His legs were coated with pale pink earth with rippling stripes of skin showing through. Above the knee, he wore a thigh bell made from metal strips tied with leather thongs. At the moment, a thin shank of bone locked the strips into place and kept them from jangling. Jade knew that, on the hunt, the shank would be pulled, allowing the metal to clang together. The noise would confuse a lion, driving it where the warrior wanted the beast to go.

  Almost as striking in appearance as the man was his oval shield. Made of stretched hides, it was painted in bold white and red patterns, chevrons, rippling lines, and dots. To complete his regalia, he held a spear as long as himself and carried a bundle of wild sage leaves, clamped under one armpit as a deodorant. He grasped something that Jade couldn’t see in his left hand.

  “Maasai” meant “the speakers of Maa.” She knew some Maa, thanks to her studies, but had never gotten a chance to practice it outside of a book. Ruta never spoke to her or anyone else except Harry Hascombe. But for all of Ruta’s pretenses, she’d learned that he understood both Swahili and some English. She took a chance that this man might have had dealings with colonists before and could speak Swahili as well, in case her Maa failed her.

  “Jambo,” she greeted in Swahili, then added the traditional Maasai greeting, “Kesherian ingishu,” literally, “How are the cattle?”

  The man watching her didn’t move. Jade didn’t know if she should get out of the plane or not, but somehow it seemed cowardly to stay there and she knew the Maasai were not a cowardly people. They wouldn’t respect caution in others. She stood and lifted a leg over the side and found the stirrup, swung the other leg out, and jumped down. Then she went around the wing toward the propeller. The warrior walked forward, holding his spear erect, and stopped three paces from her. He extended his left hand and offered her a clump of green grass, a peace offering.

  “Jambo, Simba Jike,” he said, and proceeded in kitchen Swahili peppered with a few English words. “We welcome the slayer of evil, the friend of my brother.”

  “Ruta? Yes. I was friend to Ruta,” Jade said, taking the grass. The Maasai who had been Harry Hascombe’s gun bearer and the caretaker of Biscuit had been a brave man. She had always wondered why he was so far from his own land. This man looked younger by several years.

  “That man was my brother. He left the kraal the year after I became a warrior. I am Tajewo Ole Ndaskoi,” said the warrior, introducing himself as a son of Ndaskoi.

  How did he know that his brother was dead, or for that matter, who she was? Then it occurred to her that Harry Hascombe now led safaris. He’d probably come himself and related the brave death of a fellow warrior.

  “We saw this cloth tumaren land on the earth yesterday,” continued Tajewo, pointing to the Jenny.

  “Tumaren?” Jade was unfamiliar with the word and wondered if it were Maasai for “bird.”

  Tajewo looked around until he spied a dragonfly patrolling inland for food. “Tumaren,” he repeated as he pointed to the darting insect. “Tales have come to us of i
t and the man with the leg of wood that flies in its heart. We came to see this man for ourselves.”

  Jade couldn’t tell if he was disappointed that she was flying or not. She did find his description of the plane as a dragonfly remarkably accurate. Most people, in trying to explain the plane to a culture unfamiliar with mechanized flight, called it a bird. But with the two wings on each side and the delicate, long tail, it did more closely resemble the insect.

  “Bwana Mti Mguu taught me to fly the tumaren, the airplane,” she said, giving it the English word. “I came to find a young rhino, a kifaru toto. I found one whose mother was dead.” She pointed in the direction of the young rhino. “I would go back and tell some men, and they would come and save the toto. But someone has thrown dirt inside of the airplane and made it foul. It will not fly now and I tore the skin on the wing.” She pointed to the rip in the linen.

  Tajewo glanced at the tear, then peered at the motor and the propeller. “The . . . ar-plane is like the . . . ah-toe-mubeel?”

  “Yes,” said Jade. She pointed to the motor. “The motor makes it fly.”

  The warrior nodded, understanding now. He’d seen his share of land vehicles before: trucks and autos driven by Europeans on safari or government agents making certain the Maasai kept to their reserve. “We watched when the ar-plane stopped making its growl. We saw it come down. Then we saw the fires, and thought the Bwana was hurt or his ar-plane was broken. We kept guard during the night.”

  As he spoke, the sun rose and spilled golden light and long fingers of shadows across the dusty landscape. The grasses here grew sparsely and looked browner as the dry season stretched on. In the daylight, Jade again saw the fierce, volcanic pillars and cliffs to the south, a forbidding, harsh landscape. She knew she was lucky to have escaped with only a torn wing.

  “Thank you,” said Jade. “I am grateful. I need your help.” All this time, the other warriors did not turn around or approach the Jenny. Their discipline amazed her. Anytime she saw a plane, she wanted to touch it and peer up into the motor. And she’d seen plenty of them. “I must leave the airplane and walk back to Naivasha town. If I stay here, the men will find the kifaru toto too late, and it will die. If I leave the airplane, an animal will chew on it or scratch its back against it.”

  “And the man with the wood leg will beat you?” Tajewo didn’t wait for her answer to his rhetorical question. To him, it was obvious.

  Tajewo called to the men. They gathered in a clump, discussing the matter. She caught the occasional surreptitious look at the linen-and-wood contraption beside them and even more open stares at her. After a few minutes, three of the men set off at a trot to the east.

  “Three warriors will find the kifaru toto and bring it back here. If it is too young to eat grass, they will take it to the kraal and give it milk.” Tajewo pointed to the southwest. “It is a half day’s walk to the village. The rest will guard the ar-plane. In this, I can repay the one who killed my brother’s killer.”

  “Thank you,” said Jade. “Now I can find the farmhouse I saw and see if someone can help me go home.”

  “I will take you to that kraal,” he said, using the term for the “village.” “But I do not think anyone is there. It is filled with emptiness for many years. Then I will take you to Nai’posha,” he said, giving the town the original pronunciation.

  “That’s odd,” mumbled Jade more to herself. “I was sure I saw a truck there.” Well, perhaps it was too old and broken down to bother with anymore when the settlers gave up and left. Perhaps someone new had taken over the farm recently and Tajewo just didn’t know it yet. She gathered her few supplies from behind the cockpit seat, replaced Sam’s jacket, and fell into step beside the tall Maasai.

  “YOU CAN’T GO in now, sir,” said the night nurse. “Visiting hours have not begun yet.”

  “I have to see Mr. Featherstone. It’s most important.”

  “Mr. Featherstone is in need of his rest and . . . sir!” she shouted as Neville pushed past her. “Stop this instant!”

  “It’s all right, Nurse,” said the doctor, who’d just come in to make his morning rounds. “We can give him five minutes.”

  The nurse turned on her heel with a huffed “Well!” and went back to her desk. Neville didn’t wait for anyone to change their minds and hurried over to Sam’s bedside.

  “Good to see you alive and kicking,” said Neville. “Hello, Avery.” He fidgeted with his hat, as though nervous about something. Avery rose and nodded toward the chair, offering it to Neville.

  Sam shifted his stumpy leg under the sheet. “Only kicking with one foot right now, Neville. Thanks for bringing me here. I heard you brought Jade, too,” Sam said. He made the statement sound like a question, hoping for some information that would dispel his worry that she’d gone off on another wild escapade.

  Neville, still standing, nodded. “I think she stayed most of the night. Yesterday morning she came by the house to tell us they finally managed to get the quinine down you with some subterfuge. As I understand it, she made you think it was a lemonade.”

  Sam started. So that was where the memory of home had come from. “Is she in the waiting room or at the farm with Maddy?” he asked, his voice hopeful.

  Neville shook his head. “That’s why I needed to see you. She’s not back yet.”

  Something in his voice made Sam sit up straight. “Not back from where?”

  “I’m not sure,” said Neville. “Wherever you planned to go, I assume.”

  Sam’s bass voice dropped to a low rumble. “Are you telling me she went up in the plane?”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Avery. “What happened?”

  Neville looked from one man to the other. “Jade said that Sam told her to go up without him.” He looked directly at Sam as he finished. “She said you insisted on it, wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  Sam’s eyes opened wide and his face blanched. “And she’s not back yet? I didn’t ask her to go up alone.” He threw back the covers and began searching for his clothes. “Doctor!” he yelled. “Where’s my damn leg!”

  “Calm yourself, man,” said Avery. He pushed against Sam’s chest in a futile attempt to keep him in bed. “Neville, a hand here, if you please, and tell me what the deuce is going on.” Then to himself: “How can a sick man be so bloody strong?”

  The doctor raced over to them. “Mr. Featherstone, get back into bed this instant.”

  “Where’s my leg?” demanded Sam, still resisting Avery’s increasing pressure. “Neville, find my leg.”

  Neville straightened and peered around the room as if the leg would suddenly appear floating in front of him. “I don’t know—”

  “We’ll find your leg, Sam,” said Avery, “after you get hold of yourself and tell me what the blazes is going on.”

  Sam collapsed back against the pillow, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. His breath came in shallow pants. “My stars, I’m weak as a kitten,” he mumbled.

  “The hell,” muttered Avery.

  “That’s why you aren’t to be released yet,” declared the doctor. “There is no reason for—”

  “There is every reason in the world, Doctor,” growled Sam. His ebony eyes glared at the doctor. “Miss del Cameron has crashed somewhere, and I have to find her.”

  “What?” shouted Avery. A stern “Shush” and an equally harsh glare came from the nurse standing two beds over taking a patient’s pulse. Avery scowled, but dropped his voice. “What the hell is going on?”

  Sam held up one hand, indicating that he’d speak as soon as he got his breath back. “I was supposed to fly Monday morning for that zoo company. Scout for a rhino calf. It seems our Jade flew off alone in my place.”

  “She said you told her to. Begged her, in fact,” said Neville.

  “Well, I didn’t!” said Sam. “At least not consciously. I was probably raving or something.”

  “Has Jade soloed before?” asked Avery.

  Sam shook his he
ad. “She’s handled takeoffs and landings on her own and a complete flight once, but I’ve always been in the front seat, ready to take over if necessary.”

  “And was it ever necessary?” continued Avery. He poured a glass of water and held it out to Sam.

  “No. She’s good.” Sam stopped and took a drink. “She controls the plane smoothly, understands allowing for drift, and she knows how to scout for an emergency-landing site.”

  “So what’s the worry?” asked Avery. “She sounds like a competent pilot.”

  “The worry is that she’s not back yet. She should have been back two hours after takeoff. It’s been an entire day. Something’s happened.”

  “She probably stayed out too long and put down somewhere to refuel,” said Avery. He looked at Neville. “When did your man tell you that she hadn’t returned?”

  “An hour ago. I had machinery problems most of the day yesterday, and Maddy helped me. We didn’t get back to the house until dark. Kimathi kept watch from the fields all day and then all night by the hangar. When Jade didn’t return during the night, he hurried back to tell us.”

  Avery frowned. “It does sound as though she’s had some sort of trouble.”

  Sam pushed himself to a sitting position and steadied himself with both hands on the bed. “And there are places in the bush where you don’t want to be stranded. Now, if you’re all through mollycoddling me, I intend to go and find her.”

  “You really shouldn’t leave,” said the doctor, who had remained silent during the discussion.

  Sam took hold of Avery’s shoulder and hauled himself up. “I’m leaving, Doctor. Give me whatever pills I need to take, but I’m leaving. And bring me my leg!”